Chapter 48
STILWELL NEEDED TO know more about the connection between Bessemer and Lambert.
He had linked them together simply because of the familiarity he’d heard in Bessemer’s tone when he mistakenly thought he was speaking to Lambert.
They knew each other. Stilwell was sure of that.
Bessemer’s biography on his company’s website revealed the connecting points of the Marine Corps and Fallujah. But there had to be more.
Since his days in the homicide unit, Stilwell had a LinkedIn account under a false name that he used for investigative purposes.
He pulled up Bessemer’s profile and found additional details, potential connections to Lambert that could not be ignored.
According to LinkedIn, Bessemer had also grown up in Riverside and joined Blackwater after serving in the Marines.
The profile said he’d founded MIPCO with funding from the private security firm and contracted to provide munitions for Blackwater.
Stilwell was interrupted by a call on his cell. But it wasn’t Akins calling him back. It was Carol Najera, the prosecutor.
“You won’t be testifying against Allen after all,” she said.
“What?” Stilwell said. “The judge reversed her ruling?”
“No. You won’t testify because there won’t be a trial. Allen is going to take a deal.”
“And plead to what?”
“A single count of bribery. He’ll probably do four years.”
“Is that enough for what he did over here?”
“I’m not handling the negotiation. I’m a trial attorney. His offering to take a plea bumped it over to a negotiations team. So, to answer your question, no, it’s not enough. But it’s not my call.”
“Shit.”
“I know what they’re doing—avoiding the risk of going to trial. They’re getting something instead of rolling the dice and maybe getting nothing.”
“Is he pleading guilty or no contest?”
“No contest.”
“So he doesn’t even have to admit guilt. This is fucked up. We should go to trial and nail him to the wall.”
“We should, but we’re not. This deal has been signed off on by the DA herself. It avoids a costly trial that was by no means a slam dunk. At least he’ll be going away for a while.”
“When is the sentencing?”
“It hasn’t been set. Once he goes into court and enters the plea, the judge will put it on the calendar.”
Stilwell’s phone buzzed with another call.
“Look, I’m not happy about this,” he said. “But I need to go. When does he go to court to enter the plea?”
“Probably Friday,” Najera said. “I’ll let you know. You should be there.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you before then.”
“Look, it’s a conviction. That’s all that matters. And he’ll never hold office again.”
“Right.”
He disconnected and immediately connected to the other call. It was Dave Akins.
“Listen, I’m here and the boat’s not in its slip,” he said.
“Anybody there know when it left?” Stilwell asked.
“Yeah, just a few hours ago. The guys here saw two people on it, Bessemer and a second guy they didn’t know.”
“Will they let you look at video?”
“They’re bringing it up for me right now.”
“Good.”
“Hang on.”
Stilwell overheard Akins talking with somebody, but the sound was muffled and he couldn’t make out what was said. Akins came back to the call.
“Okay, I’m looking at it,” he said.
Stilwell waited.
“It’s two guys,” Akins said. “They’re getting on the boat and getting it ready to go out.”
“Did they bring anything on board?” Stilwell asked.
“Uh, one has a backpack.”
“How big?”
“Just standard size. The one that had the backpack just got the lines and pushed off. The other’s in the helm driving. They’re heading to the channel.”
“Can you take a photo of them and text it to me?”
“Stand by.”
This time Stilwell heard Akins tell someone to back up the video, then freeze it. A few seconds later his phone dinged with a text and he took it away from his ear to look at the photo Akins had sent.
The photo was grainy, which was to be expected, and appeared to be from a camera that was at least a hundred feet away from the boat.
It showed two men standing on a dock next to a boat with Bullet painted in script across the stern.
Stilwell used his thumb and forefinger to expand the shot and get a closer look at the two men.
One of them was facing the camera. It was Lambert.
A stab of fear went through Stilwell’s chest. Not fear for himself, even though he instinctively knew that they were coming for him.
“Hey, isn’t that one guy with us?” Akins said. “He’s in narcotics, I think.”
“That’s him,” Stilwell said. “But he’s not with us. Not anymore.”
“What’s going on, Stil?”
“I’ll tell you when I can. What time was that on the video? When they left. The time code is blurred on this.”
“Uh… the time code shows three ten.”
“Then they’re already here.”
“Where? Catalina? How do you know they were going—”
“Because I made a mistake and now they’re coming for me.”
“What mistake?”
“I made a call I shouldn’t have made. I need to go, but can you ask them to show you video from two Mondays ago? I want to see when that boat left and when it came back.”
“Two Mondays ago, you got it. But are you sure I—”
“Call me back. Thanks.”
Stilwell disconnected and immediately called Tash. He knew he might be overreacting. There was nothing suggesting that Tash was under threat. But he had missed signs last year when one of his investigations put her in danger. He was not going to make that mistake again.
She didn’t pick up right away.
“Come on, come on, come on,” he said.
He was getting ready to leave the sub and run down the pier to the tower when she answered.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Uh, are you wrapping up early today?”
“Thinking about it. The harbor’s empty and there’s not much to do.”
“Okay, Tash, I need you to trust me and do what I ask. Can you do that?”
“Is something wrong?”
“Yeah, it might be. So I want you to stay in the tower. Lock the door and stay there until you hear from me.”
“What’s going on, Stil?”
“I can’t get into it right now. I just need to know that you will lock the door and wait there for me. It’s important, Tash.”
“Okay, okay, but is someone coming here or—”
“You’re safe there. You just can’t go home. You understand? Not till you hear from me.”
“They’re coming for you?”
“Look, Tash, I have to go. I’ll explain everything later. Just stay there. Okay?”
“All right, I’m staying right here. And I’ll lock the doors.”
“Good. I love you.”
“Stil—”
He disconnected. Lambert believed he had the element of surprise on his side. But he was wrong. He also thought that Corum and the cameras would give him the advantage in the sub, so this was where he would come. But he was wrong again.
Stilwell quickly came up with a plan of action that used the sub to his advantage.
He then stepped out into the squad room to show himself to the cameras.
As he’d expected, the room was empty. Mercy had gone home for the night and the second-shift deputies were out on patrol.
He went to his locker in the bunk room and got the two extra ammo magazines he kept there.
He stuffed them into a back pocket, then pulled his Glock from its holster, racked the slide, and chambered a round. He was ready.
He went back into his office, closing the door behind him. He set up the desktop computer and pulled up the sub’s cameras on his cell phone. Then he opened the office window, removed the screen, and climbed out into the dark.