The Infiltrators (22 page)

I saw her take note of the chief’s stare. Her lips grew tight and narrow. She’d know, of course, that it wasn’t that Chief Cordoba didn’t see lots of women in jeans, tight and loose, clean and dirty; in fact it seemed likely that a large percentage of the females he encountered in the line of business were jean-clad ladies. But he was obviously recalling the well-groomed young professional woman whom, almost a decade ago, he’d undoubtedly met in the course of his normal police duties.

I said, “You may remember Mrs. Ellershaw, Chief Cordoba.”

He nodded. “I remember.”

I said, “Having served her full sentence, Mrs. Ellershaw is not required to report to the authorities, but we thought it best to let you know she was in town.”

He nodded. “We were notified of her release from the Federal Correctional Institution at Fort Ames. That was a couple of months ago, wasn’t it? I thought she must have decided not to come back to Santa Fe after… what happened here. But since all formalities have been complied with, it is, as you say, no official concern of mine as long as her presence creates no law-enforcement problems here.”

It wasn’t exactly a gracious welcome, and I felt Madeleine draw a sharp breath, preparing to speak; but I forestalled her.

“That’s just the trouble, Chief,” I said. “Somebody’s trying to kill her; presumably somebody who apparently feels more strongly than you do about having her come home.” I touched the sling supporting my right arm. “I stopped one bullet aimed at her the hard way, but there’s no telling where the next one will go.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you wish from me?”

“Nothing,” I said. I looked at him hard. “I mean that literally, Chief.”

He studied me for quite a long time. “I remember you, too, of course, Mr. Helm,” he said at last. “You used to live here. We try to keep track of our more prominent citizens.”

“I wasn’t very prominent,” I said. “Just another camera snapper and typewriter pounder. The town is full of them, along with the artists and craftsmen who seem to gravitate here.”

He said, “That may be, but at one time you gained a certain prominence in our records, Mr. Helm. You may not remember me, but when I was a younger officer there was a kidnapping here. A small child, not yet walking, snatched from her crib. Name: Elizabeth Margaret Helm. Parents: Elizabeth and Matthew Helm. There were also two people killed at this time. A man was found shot several times with a certain .22 pistol. He was quite dead. The weapon was found beside a woman who’d been very badly abused, also dead. Quite coincidental, of course; nothing to do with the abduction case. It was officially announced that, although she’d received injuries that were crippling and disfiguring, the woman had somehow managed to reach a gun and shoot up the insanely jealous lover who had hurt her so badly. He had staggered away to die. She had then, unwilling to live with what she had done, and what had been done to her, turned the gun upon herself. That is what appeared in the newspapers.”

I was aware that Madeleine had glanced at me sharply; she was now listening very carefully.

I said, “But the papers were wrong.”

Chief Cordoba nodded. “We had been asked to cooperate by disposing of the case in this manner. The request had come from Washington.” He shrugged. “The kidnapping of a small child is an inexcusable crime; we were willing to overlook a few… irregularities in the recovery procedure. Actually the man, one of the kidnappers, had been deliberately shot to death by a certain individual to keep him from interfering in what was to happen or endangering the kidnapped child. The woman, his female accomplice—I believe the woman was in fact the brains of the operation; the man merely served as muscle—had then been skillfully and ruthlessly interrogated by the same, er, mysterious individual. Shortly, we got a telephone call asking that police officers with personal knowledge of a certain barrio should go there circumspectly and free the little girl from a certain address. I was one of those officers.”

I said, “I remember, Chief. And my wife and I were very grateful for your efficiency, and still are. At least I know I am, and I’m sure she is, although I haven’t seen her lately.”

He nodded. “I did understand that Mrs. Helm was no longer, er, Mrs. Helm. In fact, she left Santa Fe within the year, with the children, did she not? And the agency in Washington that had requested our cooperation was one with which you had formerly been connected, wasn’t it? It is my understanding that, after your divorce, you rejoined that organization and now reside in Washington, although you still spend your vacations here from time to time.”

“It is a pleasant city,” I said. “And you are well informed.”

“And you ask me to do nothing to protect Mrs. Ellershaw?”

Abruptly, we were back in the present, after a tour through the painful past.

“That’s right,” I said. “Protection has already been arranged. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation, Chief, in case anything happens. I’m carrying, and so are some agents who are working with me on this. I’d like to be sure that your officers don’t get, well, officious, if there’s any trouble. Here.” I took a card from my shirt pocket left-handed and laid it on the desk. “If you want confirmation from Washington, call that number, please.”

He didn’t touch the card. “Do I gather that there’s more involved here than the threat to Mrs. Ellershaw?”

“That’s a question I’m not permitted to answer,” I said. “Officially, I’m here on behalf of the United States government to investigate the possibility that the lady’s civil rights may have been very seriously violated; that she may even be innocent of the crime against her country of which she was convicted. The attempts on her life—there have been others—tend to support this hypothesis. It seems possible, now, that somebody had reason to want her put out of circulation for a long time and took steps to arrange for her false arrest and conviction; somebody who, now that she’s free again, is still afraid of her and wants her silenced permanently.”

Cordoba hesitated. “As a policeman I must point out—you will excuse me, Mrs. Ellershaw—that there could be other, less favorable, explanations.”

Madeleine spoke for the first time since entering the office. Her voice was harsh: “I know! If there’s an innocent explanation and a guilty one, I know damn well which one a fucking copper will go for every time! God, don’t I know!”

Chief Cordoba’s eyes narrowed again, as much with surprise as her coarse way of speaking as with anger. I put my hand on Madeleine’s arm.

“Easy, easy!” I spoke to the chief: “I must ask you to excuse her. She’s under considerable strain; it’s tough on her, coming home like this after being… away for so many years.”

Madeleine said, “Damn you, Helm, don’t talk about me like I was a nut in a shrink’s office! I’m a damn sight saner, particularly about cops, than back when I was an innocent career girl entertaining this weird notion that the law and the people with badges had been put there to protect
me.
God, what a laugh! If I hadn’t been so fucking naive, I might not have let the bastards rob me of eight years of my life.”

I said sharply, “Mrs. Ellershaw, the chief and his department had nothing whatever to do with what happened to you. Don’t take it out on him.”

Chief Cordoba said quietly, “It is all right. I understand. But I do think the… lady should remember that it was a federal case from start to finish. We were never involved.”

Madeleine said, more quietly now, quite softly in fact, “That’s perfectly true, Chief. God, how true it is! My husband was lured from our house right here in your town, kidnapped, and murdered; and you and your department were never a bit concerned, never a bit involved. If you had been, if you’d solved that crime as you should have, I’d never have gone to prison, would I? So don’t try to pass the whole buck to the feds; and don’t expect me to love and respect you, any of you, after the way you let Roy’s murderers go free. But I bet you’re hell on kids smoking pot.”

That stung him. “The rumor was very carefully investigated and nothing was ever found to substantiate it!”

I said quickly, “We’re wasting your time with ancient history, Chief. But there’s one more thing I’d like to bring to your attention before we go.”

When he spoke, after a little pause, his voice was stiff and resentful: “What is that, Mr. Helm?”

“I must advise you that we’re not the only federal agency involved.”

“I see.”

I went on: “Naturally, the organization that investigated Mrs. Ellershaw’s alleged crime, and supplied the evidence on the basis of which she was prosecuted, isn’t going to be pleased when it learns of our activities. They have, shall we say, a vested interest in Mrs. Ellershaw’s guilt. They may ask for your cooperation in, well, making the investigation tough for us. That will put you on a fairly awkward spot. May I suggest a policy of benevolent neutrality? Let us feds fight it out, and keep your own department from getting mixed up in it. That’s what I meant when I said I’d like you to do nothing.”

He said, “Go on, Mr. Helm. I’m listening.”

“The Office of Federal Security is a fairly big agency these days,” I said. “It seems to have considerable clout, so there may be some pressure. I hope you will resist it. There will be no pressure from me, from us. However, if you call that phone number, you’ll find that my instructions come from fairly high up, I think high enough to satisfy you that your best bet is to play this one strictly hands-off.” I took Madeleine’s arm and started to turn away.

“Mr. Helm.”

I looked back. “Yes, Chief.”

“One question. Is Mrs. Ellershaw… carrying?”

I said, poker-faced, “Heavens, Chief Cordoba, for her to have a gun, just out of the pen, would be very illegal, wouldn’t it?” I shook my head. “No, she doesn’t have one and wouldn’t know how to use it if she did; her parents had very strong feelings about firearms. I can shoot pretty well left-handed if I have to, and as I said, I have some agents around to help me keep her safe. Anything else?”

“Yes.” He looked at me for a long moment. When he spoke again, the formal Hispano act they like to pull on the dumb Anglo was gone. “How much of this crap do you expect me to believe, friend?”

I gave him a slow grin. “I hope you don’t believe any of it. If you believed it, that would make you pretty stupid, and I’d like to think you’re an intelligent man.”

He stared at me unsmiling, and said, “I never heard that civil rights were the concern of your rather, if you’ll excuse me, obscure agency.”

I said carefully, “What you mean is, you’d like to know what’s really going on. Join the club, Chief. I’d like to know too. All I’m doing is following instructions. Nobody’s bothered to tell me what it’s all about either.” I gave him another grin. “Let’s just say I’ve been ordered to set off a few firecrackers in the zoo. The people who sent me are very interested in learning which of the big local carnivores are gun-shy, and how high they’ll jump. I hope you’ll see your way clear to simply watching the show without interfering.”

Outside, the sunshine was very bright after the gloom of the little office, but the breeze was chilly. Hot, summery Arizona seemed a long way off, up here in the high Sangre de Christo foothills. Madeleine shivered and zipped up her bright quilted jacket as we stood for a moment on the sidewalk outside the police station. I waited. At last she threw me a sharp glance, as if expecting some kind of an unfavorable comment, and started to walk in the opposite direction from which we’d come. I strode along beside her without speaking.

“That bastard!” she said after a little. “Offers to protect me, more or less, but makes damn sure I’m not carrying a gun to protect myself.”

I said, “You did fine. Shook him up a bit without, I hope, really making an enemy of him.”

“Matt, did she really divorce you because of
that
?”

“Cut it out, Ellershaw,” I said. “Irrelevant, incompetent, and immaterial, I think you lawyers say.”

She spoke quietly: “You can’t have it both ways, my dear. You know practically everything there is to know about me; don’t shut me out when I try to learn a little about you. That was you, wasn’t it, that certain mysterious individual who shot that man to death and then… interrogated that woman to find out where the little girl was being held. Your little girl.”

I cleared your throat. “Okay. Fair is fair, I guess. Yes. They were trying to force me, through my kid, to do something for them, but we don’t play that game, ever. Which you might remember if you’re ever dumb enough to let yourself be taken hostage. Well do our best to blast you loose, but we’ll make no deals.”

“I’ll certainly keep it in mind,” she said. “And you’re stalling.”

“The woman’s name, the name I used to know her by, was Tina,” I said. “She was in the business, our business; she was pretty tough; and I had to get very rough before she’d give up the address.”

“And for that, your wife left you? For saving your child,
her
child? My God, what kind of a woman was she?”

“A very nice woman,” I said. “A very nice, sensitive woman who’d never been told what kind of work I’d done before we met—security was very tight back then and I wasn’t allowed to tell anybody, not even my wife—and who suddenly discovered she was married to a man she didn’t know, a violent stranger whose touch made her want to throw up. She walked in on it, you see, although I’d asked her to stay home and wait. It was pretty gory, and she’d never encountered anything remotely like it in her sheltered New England life. I told you once: a gentle and nonviolent girl.”

“Would she rather have seen her baby dead?” Madeleine asked contemptuously.

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. Intellectually, Beth could accept what I’d done as necessary for our kid’s survival; but emotionally…” I shrugged. “And before you pass such a quick and arrogant judgment on her, remember that you’re appraising her from the viewpoint of a hardened graduate of Fort Ames Penitentiary, not to mention that other place where you’ve just been learning how to cut people’s throats. The young lady I took out to dinner twelve years ago might not have been quite so ready to accept a man with blood on his hands.”