Blindman’s Bluff

EIGHTEEN

THE RANCH WAS a contrast between nature and nurture. The back area was raw land with high desert chaparral, sage, cactus and other wild succulents, and a lot of dirt and gravel. The acreage in front had been controlled and manipulated, turned into garden rooms with towering trees, fountains, flowers, herbs, and beds of roses, their colors glistening in the noonday sun.

As Decker twisted through the driveway, he spotted a man stooped over yellow and orange marigolds set into emerald boxwood squares. He wore a long-sleeved khaki uniform and a big floppy hat tied under his chin. Decker pulled the car over and parked, leaving just enough room for any other vehicles to pass around his unmarked. He got out and walked through a knot garden. The area was in full sun, and the afternoon heat was relentless.

Paco Albanez turned when he heard shoes scruff against the loose rock and when he saw Decker, he slowly unfolded upward, his left gloved hand grabbing his hip as he arched his spine backward. His face was tanned and lined. He dropped his hands to his sides as Decker came closer and gave him the courtesy of a nod.

“Buenas tardes,” Decker said. “Está caliente hoy.” “El verano es caliente.”

“Verdad.” When Decker told him how beautiful the flowers looked, Albanez smiled. Beyond that, the face remained a cipher. “If you have a moment, I’d like to talk to you about the other night,” Decker told him in Spanish.

Albanez wiped his damp forehead with the back of his glove, leaving a streak of dirt. Dark eyes looked down at his shoes. “I have nothing new to say.”

Decker slipped out his notebook. “Just need a few more details.”

Albanez’s gaze fell somewhere over Decker’s shoulder. “I’m trying to forget the details.” He bent down and pulled out a weed. “Terrible to remember.”

“Could you just”-Decker swatted a fly from his face-“go over that night one more time?” When Paco was silent, Decker said, “Maybe it’s time for a break. Someplace with shade possibly?”

With reluctance, Albanez left his post and took Decker into a glade of Agonis trees, where there were several stone benches. Decker sat on one side and the groundskeeper took up the other. He stared straight ahead, his face sweating profusely.

Decker said, “Just go over the night one more time.”

Albanez’s recitation was mechanical. Señor Riley woke him up. It must have been around two in the morning and Señor Riley was very upset. He couldn’t understand Señor Riley because he was talking too fast. Finally, Paco realized that something happened to Señor and Señora Kaffey. Señor Riley took him back to his bungalow. Ana was already there, crying and shaking. She told him what happened, that Señor and Señora Kaffey were dead. There was blood was everywhere…that it was horrible. The two of them waited in Señor Riley’s bungalow until he came back with the police. Then the police took them into the main house and separated them.

The smell was horrible inside. Several times, he had to go back outside to get some fresh air. He wanted to go back to his bungalow, but the policeman told him to wait until the boss came.

“Then you came and talked to me and finally I get to go back to my house.”

His memory squared with Ana’s account. Still, Decker didn’t quite get why Ana went to Riley’s bungalow before she went to see Paco. Although it was true that Riley’s place was closer than Paco’s, Decker had seen the physical layout. The two bungalows weren’t all that far apart and because Ana was primarily Spanish speaking, Decker would have thought that she would have taken the extra steps.

Then again, the woman was panicked.

Paco’s recitation had turned him a shade paler. Decker said, “Did you know that Gil Kaffey was still alive?”

“No.” Albanez licked his lips.

Decker looked him in the eye. “What do you think happened?”

“Me?” Deep furrows sat between his eyes as he wrinkled his forehead. “I don’t know. It was horrible.”

“Why do you think Gil wasn’t killed?”

“Suerte.”

Luck.

“Has anyone talked to you about the future of your job?” When Paco shook his head no, Decker said, “You’re still working here.”

“The garden still grows.”

“Who is paying you?”

His eyes narrowed. “Señor Gil will pay me.”

“How do you know? Did he tell you he’d pay you?”

“No, but he is alive.” His voice was resolute. “He will pay me to keep the garden.”

“How do you know he won’t sell the ranch?”

Albanez looked confused. “Why would he do that?”

“For money.”

“Then what about his plans?”

Decker hoped he kept his face flat and his voice casual. “Tell me about the plans.”

“Growing the grapes for the winery. It is why Señor Kaffey bought the land. He and Señor Gil have been working on it for over a year. They draw many designs. I’ve seen them.”

Keep your voice calm. “They wanted to build a winery?”

“Yes. Señor Gil and Señor Kaffey talk a lot about wine.”

Decker thought of Grant Kaffey, about how anxious he was to sell the ranch to help pay estate taxes. He said, “I heard that the ranch was going up for sale.”

Albanez looked at the ground. “If so, I will find work somewhere else.”

“Do you think now that Señor Kaffey is gone, that Señor Gil will continue with the plans?” All Decker got was a shrug of the shoulders. “Was he here a lot? Señor Gil?”

“He was here, yes. But he doesn’t live here.”

“Do you think that he might want to live here now that Señor Kaffey is gone?”

“I don’t know, Señor. To him, it has bad memories.”

“But you think he will continue on with the plans?”

“I hope so. I like him very much. I like this job very much.” He lowered his head. “I liked Señor Kaffey very much. He had a big mouth, but also a big heart.”

“I heard that he often raised his voice. Did he yell at you a lot?”

A small smile played on his lips. “Yes, he yelled. “Why is this dying? There are too many weeds. Trim this, cut that. You are lazy. You are crazy.’” Another smile. “The next moment, he would give me money for no purpose. Twenty dollars every time he yelled. One time he gave me a hundred-dollar bill. He’d say, ‘Here, Paco. Take out a girl for a nice dinner.’”

“What about Señora Kaffey?”

“We speak very little. She only talks to say, ‘plant zinnias or plant cosmos or plant tulips.’ But she wasn’t a mean woman. She loved her horses and her dogs. I take her dogs in the back for exercise when Señor Riley was too busy. She talks a lot to Señor Riley. And she always served lemonade and cookies at four in the afternoon for everyone. Very good cookies.”

“I want to talk just a moment about Señor Riley.” When he didn’t get a response, he said, “Did you know that we found one of the guards on the property buried in the horse grave?”

“Yes, I know. You were here digging for many hours.”

“Señor Riley dug the hole for the horses, but he said that he had help. Did you help him dig the hole?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone else besides you help Señor Riley?”

Again the eyes narrowed, more in concentration than in suspicion. “I think one or two maybe helped. Maybe Bernardo, maybe José.”

“Could you give me their last names, please?”

“Bernardo…I don’t know. José…he is Joe Pine. I think he helped us.”

“How well did you know Joe Pine?”

“He is young, I am old. I don’t know him well.”

“But he helped you and Karns dig the horse grave.”

Albanez just shrugged. “He says dig here, I dig here. His uniform is clean, mine is dirty.”

The underlying message was that Albanez didn’t like him. Decker moved on. “Did Señor Gil ever talk to you about the winery?”

“They both talk to me about the winery. They say, ‘Paco, you will be busy for years.’ But now you say they sell the ranch so maybe not.” Albanez got up from the bench. “I need to go back to my work.”

“Thank you for talking to me. Did they tell you what kind of grapes they wanted to grow?”

“Chardonnay and cabernet. They have special men come to the ranch to talk to them about it. How to plant the grapes, how to care for the grapes, how to harvest the grapes. That’s even before they make the wine.”

“Wine making is complicated.”

Albanez shrugged and started walking back to the flower beds. Decker said, “Thanks again for taking the time to talk to me.”

“It’s okay but no more. I don’t know who alive is a good person and who is a bad man. If bad person is watching me, I don’t want them to know that I talked to the police.”

He was correct in his assessment. Still, Decker had a job to do. “I have one more question. You told me that Señor Kaffey bought the ranch to make wine. I was told that he bought the ranch for Señora Kaffey’s horses.”

There was silence. Then Albanez stopped and regarded the landscape. “I think, Señor, there is enough room for both.”

MARGE GRABBED HIM as soon as he walked into his office. She was kind enough to bring a fresh cup of coffee with her and set it on his desk. The woman knew the best way to a lieutenant’s heart was a good, black cup of joe. She shut the door. “I got a fix on one of Rina’s IDs. Fredrico Ortez, known as Rico.”

“That was fast.”

“Computers are wonderful things. Unfortunately, he’s in jail and has been for the last three months.”

“Cross him off the list. What about the other one? Alejandro Brand?”

“Checked him out as well. No record as an adult. He’s nineteen and lives in Pacoima.”

“So what was he doing in the mug book?”

“Probably was put in there by CRASH when they did a gang sweep.”

“Isn’t Joe Pine from Pacoima?”

“Yes, he is. Pine’s older than Brand, but not by much. I’ll look into him as well.”

“Any idea what nationality Brand is?”

“No idea.”

“Let’s see if we can get something on Brand. Haul him in and have Harriman listen to his voice. Maybe something will click. Before you leave for Ponceville, get hold of Oscar Vitalez. We’ll set up a phony interview with Oscar and get Harriman in here to see how he reacts to Vitalez’s voice.”

“I’ll do that today.”

“Are you all set for tomorrow’s excursion?”

“Yep. Willy took care of everything. My only reservation is flying with Oliver and listening to him kvetch the entire time. What are you up to, Pete?”

“I just got back from Coyote Ranch.” He recapped his conversation with Paco Albanez. “I wanted to see if he admitted knowing about the horse grave, and I came away finding out that Guy and Gil were planning to build a winery.”

“I thought you said that Grant was planning on selling the ranch.”

“That’s what Grant told me. Maybe Grant didn’t know about Gil’s plans.”

Marge said, “Or he does know and Gil doesn’t want it anymore after what happened.”

“Or that Grant is speaking for Gil.” Decker paused. “You know Oliver said something interesting at the meeting this morning. About if he were Gil, he’d move away and surround himself with his own bodyguards. The fact that he isn’t doing that makes me wonder.”

“About what?”

“Shouldn’t Gil be more concerned about his safety?”

“Or it could be that he’s too out of it to make proper decisions. He’s still in the hospital, Pete. Maybe once he gets out, he’ll realize that he needs more than a nurse and an ex-boyfriend. Speaking of which, shouldn’t we talk to the ex?”

“Already done. His name is Antoine Resseur and we’re meeting tonight at eight at his apartment in West Hollywood.”

“Why don’t you meet at the Abby? I hear the food is terrific.”

“Being kosher, it would be wasted on me anyway. By the way, I offered to talk to him at a public place of his choosing, but I suspect that he doesn’t want people seeing him talk to the police.”

“Or maybe you’re not his type.”

Decker smiled. “He hasn’t seen me yet. How would he know that?”

“There’s a stereotype that goes along with being a cop. You may just be too macho for his blood.”

“Then he’d be prejudiced,” Decker announced. “And that would be too bad for him because he’d never get to know my sensitive side.”