Counterfeit Road (34 page)

But Coe didn’t call and the road was hard and fairly smooth so they made good time. Or at least they did until hitting a patch of sand before the mountains. On the mountain the road got rockier and narrowed.

‘We’re looking for two faded orange tents. The superintendent told me it’s about a half mile up and behind a rock outcrop that blocks the sun, but also makes it possible to drive past it without noticing. He said at the half mile mark start watching.’

‘And we’re doing this because the biologists didn’t answer their cell phones?’

‘We’re doing it to be certain. They don’t always answer their phones. They didn’t stop and check in with the superintendent before leaving.’

‘But now they’re out on the highway and the FBI is following them, right?’

‘That’s what Coe said.’

‘You don’t think that’s happening?’

‘It’s probably happening.’

‘They can get pulled over and asked for ID.’

‘They’ll have ID no matter what and we’re almost here.’

But they weren’t. It was closer to a mile and they were midway up the mountain before they spotted the tents.

‘Remind me never to loan you my car,’ la Rosa said, as they got there.

‘If we don’t find anything we’ll drive back much more slowly. We’ll enjoy the morning. We’ll go get coffee at the golf course and fly home.’

It was desert beautiful this morning, the winter sky blue and clear, a line of dry brown mountains etched at the horizon. The Ivanpah lakebed below was white, almost silvered in this light. They started at the first tent and didn’t have to go any farther. Raveneau didn’t even unzip the mosquito netting flies were trying to get through. Bright morning sunlight hitting the tent fabric illuminated the interior and he and la Rosa looked in at dark dried blood on the floor of the tent. He saw multiple bullet holes on the tent floor and realized they were shot from where he was standing leaning over looking in.

It took them a few minutes to get their heads around it, and then Raveneau guessed they were shot while they slept and then dragged and buried somewhere around here.

‘But we can’t look for them. It’s why they weren’t answering their phones. It’s why the two men didn’t stop. The superintendent wouldn’t have recognized them and realized something was up. And I really screwed up. I should have asked the superintendent for a radio. We’ve got to get back into cell range fast.’

La Rosa kept trying her cell phone and Raveneau drove very hard. He slid through the dry switchbacks ignoring la Rosa’s frightened gasps. He hoped someone would see dust rising and put it together. He hoped they were in time. By now the President was on the ground and in a car. By now he was close. He fishtailed through the bad sand and then pushed the truck as they dropped down the alluvial plain toward the solar sites and the highway.

La Rosa got a ring, but the call dropped. She tried again and as she got through Raveneau slowed so she could hear Coe.

‘We found dried blood and bullet holes. Inspector Raveneau and I believe something very violent happened and firearms were involved. The biologists may have been murdered. Someone needs to stop the Wildlife Heritage vehicle and stop the President’s tour right now.’

Raveneau spotted vehicles and knew the tour was already underway. He turned to la Rosa. ‘Describe this truck to Coe. He needs to tell the Secret Service not to shoot us.’

But now he doubted there would even be time for that. They were almost back to the project and as the agents had warned, the road was blocked. And he could see the President’s entourage below and starting to turn up this direction. There wasn’t going to be time to explain anything to anyone. They skidded to a stop where the road was blocked and the two agents had their guns out as Raveneau yelled at them.

‘Stop the President’s car! Get him out of here now! There may be bombs buried in the roadbed. We’re going around you to block them from coming up.’

He didn’t wait for their answer and gunned the truck. One of the Secret Service agents swung his gun and got ready to shoot. Raveneau registered that out of the corner of his eye but didn’t stop. They slid around the nose of the Suburban and bounced hard through a drainage ditch and back on to the road. Now he drove as hard as he could straight at the vehicles coming up the road. As soon as they started to react he hit the brakes hard. He turned the truck sideways and yelled at la Rosa, ‘Run toward them.’

They ran toward the vehicles and then there was a flash of light and a roar and more light as the view in front of him bent and wavered. He felt a slamming blow on his back and was off his feet tumbling forward. One moment he was looking at the vehicles and a Secret Service agent ordering them to stop, and then he was looking at a blue sky and couldn’t hear anything. He looked for la Rosa and saw her sitting, bleeding from her right cheek. He tried to speak to her and his voice was faraway as he got to his feet calling to her.

He looked up at a column of black smoke and the billowing cloud of dust. The superintendent’s truck was sheared in half, part of it burning in the sage, the cab pointing nose up at the sky. The black Suburban up the road was lying on its side and all but one of the vehicles below had turned around and were driving hard away.

Raveneau focused on walking to la Rosa. He got his balance back though his ears rang with a high-pitched whine. He helped la Rosa to her feet and then someone helped them. She’s OK, he thought, and ran a hand over the knot on his head. Blood ran from his elbow and he knew his right shoulder had road rash and his shirt was wet and torn. La Rosa could barely put weight on her right knee. He put an arm around her to help support her and someone restrained him, saying, ‘We’ve got her. We’re getting an ambulance. You need to sit.’

But Raveneau didn’t sit. He walked up and looked at the craters the bombs left. He saw where they joined. When he walked back down he found his phone and the battery lying on the road. He put it back together and it rang almost immediately. Raveneau had to turn the sound all the way up to hear Coe.

‘They told me you’re both fine. Are you?’

‘Oh, never better. Elizabeth’s knee is a little sore and we’ve cleaned up the blood. The blast threw us forward, but we were far enough away.’

‘We’ve got one man and we’re looking for the other.’

‘I thought agents followed them back to Primm.’

‘They did and what I’m hearing is one went out the back door of a restaurant and left in another vehicle. This isn’t confirmed, but a man was seen out on a fairway of the golf course which might be close enough. They’re saying the bomb detonation was probably by a radio or cell signal. It may have had a built in delay of thirty to sixty seconds, or maybe when he realized what you were doing he went ahead and blew them anyway to minimize evidence.’

‘And the other man is in Primm?’

‘Yes. Can you get there and get a look at him?’

‘I’m on my way.’

SIXTY-ONE

L
a Rosa’s knee was bad enough to where she couldn’t come with him. She was already on her way to a Vegas hospital when Raveneau got in the rental car and drove to Primm. He spotted the Heritage Wildlife vehicle first, and then the FBI car with a man sitting alone in the back. They were parked out in a big lot and he counted eight Fed cars. The man claimed to be Mark Davis, a Heritage Wildlife employee, but Raveneau knew Davis’s body would be found up on the mountain. His and that of the other biologist buried just deep enough to avoid attracting vultures or coyotes.

He talked with the Las Vegas FBI agents and then walked up to the car with two agents. The man sat in the back seat, his wrists held by constraints. The agents were clearly ready to take him on into Las Vegas to start questioning him. They were tolerant but anxious to get on with it, but if Raveneau recognized him he was going to get wanted time with him first.

After the car doors were unlocked, Raveneau got in the back seat with the man. He knew immediately but didn’t say anything until he’d eased down on to the seat. He left the door open. His back would be very stiff in an hour. But he was OK sitting without moving on the seat. The breeze was warmer now and the sun on him felt good. The ringing in his ears was mostly gone.

‘That was quite an explosion,’ Raveneau said.

‘I wasn’t there. We broke camp about forty-five minutes before. I don’t know why I’m being detained.’

‘What’s the hurry, Colin? Where would you go? Where would you hide?’

With that Greiston turned his head. He didn’t say anything but he was waiting and attentive.

‘You can let the Mark Davis alias go now. We went up to the camp. We saw what happened. When they find the bodies there, you’ll be charged with those murders too. But that’s not the one I’m here about. It’s an old one and I’ve got something I want to show you. I’ve got some questions and then the FBI is going to take you on into Vegas.’

Raveneau had the lone one hundred dollar bill he’d kept in the same clear plastic wrap the Secret Service used. With his hands behind him Greiston couldn’t hold the bill, so Raveneau held it for him. He held it up in front of him for several long seconds.

‘Who are you?’

‘Ben Raveneau, a homicide inspector from San Francisco. I work cold cases. I’ve got a couple of questions. Are you OK with that?’

‘What would you know to ask?’

‘My first question is do you think Thomas Casey is still alive?’

For several minutes, maybe longer, Greiston didn’t answer and that was fine. Raveneau was glad just to sit in the sun and be. All of his back hurt but particularly lower back. The road rash on his elbow hurt. It was deep and would take awhile to heal. Blood had soaked through the gauze he got before driving here. He rested that arm on his thigh, careful not to let the raw part get any pressure. It was a close call.

He turned and looked at Greiston. He knew the FBI was sure Casey didn’t leave the Big Island on a plane and now doubted their boat theory. Coe told him they thought he was hiding somewhere on the island.

‘He could kill himself,’ Greiston said, and added, ‘I hope he does. He has a grandiose image of himself. He sees himself as a founder on par with Thomas Jefferson. You met him, what do you think?’

‘He was very conflicted when I last saw him.’

‘He is how you got here.’

‘No, he isn’t. How much money did he contribute over the years?’

‘What does it matter to you?’

In the front seat the two agents stirred and Raveneau got it. This conversation should be videotaped. If Greiston was going to talk this easily they needed to get him in as soon as possible.

‘What was Jim Frank’s role?’

‘Captain Frank? Wow, what time machine did you walk out of?’

‘Was he ever a part of it?’

‘No.’

‘Alan Krueger?’

‘He wasn’t either but Casey said too much to him after we started using his counterfeit money. Casey thought he could bring him in. But Krueger didn’t want anything to do with it and we couldn’t risk him talking to anyone.’

‘So you killed him.’

‘Nice try, Inspector, but I’ve never harmed anybody. Neither is my association with Casey or others illegal.’

‘Casey kept the Glock in a glass case in his lanai. We tested it and the ballistics matched. Why would he keep it in a glass case?’

When Greiston didn’t answer, Raveneau said, ‘My theory is he never got over providing you the gun you killed Alan Krueger with. He kept supplying money to the organization you were slowly building, but he never forgave himself for betraying his friend. What do you think of that idea?’

‘I think you can go fuck yourself. I didn’t kill Alan Krueger or anyone.’

Raveneau let long minutes go by. He closed his eyes and felt the desert breeze across his face. The venom in Greiston’s voice affected him. He couldn’t say why but it affected him in a peculiar way today. Maybe because Greiston, despite acknowledging he was caught, still acted as if somehow he was on the right side. When Raveneau spoke again his voice was harder.

‘In January we were FedExed a videotape of the shooting. I opened it and took it down to our Criminal Investigation Unit. You and Krueger are in the video, in fact, you and Krueger are the video, shooter and victim. It starts before you crossed the lot under the old Embarcadero Freeway. It’s how we tracked you down. We’re going to charge you with the murder of Alan Krueger.’

‘I guarantee that you don’t want to do that.’

Raveneau waited a few more minutes, then eased himself out of the car. He nodded to the other FBI agents as he approached them.

‘It’s him.’

And that was how it ended, or almost. Garner in Utah, and an Army general in Kentucky were arrested and charged, as was an officer inside the Pentagon. Coe told Raveneau a week later that the general held out for three days before cutting a deal and was talking. Several more arrests were made but the group was much smaller than Coe had believed. Still, they were recruiting and Coe believed they had raised tens of millions of dollars, much of which he didn’t think they would ever be able to trace.

‘It started in Hawaii long ago,’ Coe said, ‘and they did use a large stash of counterfeit supernotes they knew where to look for after killing Krueger. Greiston double-crossed Krueger and when Krueger figured it out he killed him. Greiston has laid all the blame he can on Casey.’

‘And Casey is dead.’

‘Very dead. His body was found by a K-9 unit after a helicopter spotted his car out on a remote dirt track part way up a flank of Mauna Loa. Dogs found him. In Hawaii they’re saying he put a gun in his mouth and shot himself. A handgun was found nearby. The bullet exited the top of his skull.’

‘How sure are they that is how it happened?’

‘I don’t know. They do things a little differently in Hawaii. But to go on, Greiston claimed the initial plan was to finance operations for years with the counterfeit money. What scares me is how much money they’ve raised in the last five years and how recruitment has picked up.’

‘To what end?’

‘To save America, and each one we’ve interviewed has got the same rap, the great Republic in danger from within. They see what they’re doing as noble, if you can believe that.’