A Long December

CHAPTER 06

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 19, 2001 10:51

I took a mental inventory of our evidence. Determining how somebody was killed is usually pretty easy. Most killers are in a heightened state and are frequently in a hurry. That often means the method is pretty obvious. It sure as hell was here. Check number one.

Determining just where somebody was killed is sometimes more difficult, but at least a general idea can be gotten very quickly. As in, “not where we found him.” Here, again, that was absolutely no problem. Eyewitnesses coupled with debris are about as good as it gets. Check number two.

The identity of the victim is very important, because that can lead to just why he was killed. Check number three.

Knowing when the victim is killed is critical in being able to place the suspect at the scene. When was a piece of cake in this one, with an eyewitness, and an uninvolved one at that. Check number four.

We were ahead of the game already. At that point, I was willing to bet that we’d have our suspect nailed down within twenty-four hours, and an arrest warrant issued soon after. I was in a pretty good mood.

The next step was for the autopsy to be conducted. Hester stayed for that, and I went back to our office with Terri and the grieving Linda, to obtain some background information on the now positively identified Jesus Ramon Cueva. We just needed some confirmatory stuff, like date and place of birth, relatives, that sort of thing. And, incidentally, are you sure you don’t know of any reason somebody would want to kill him?

At the office, Linda said Jesus Ramon Cueva, aka Rudy, was from Los Angeles. His family was there, and she knew of no relatives any closer than that, but had his mother’s address at home. She said he ‘d been born on July 22,1970. She wasn’t certain where, but she assumed it was in the Los Angeles area somewhere.

“I’ve got his birth certificate at home, and some of his employment papers and stuff.” She was retreating into that dull state that comes after a big shock. I was glad to see that, since I always suspect everybody until I can rule them out. Grief might be faked, but the dullness afterward seldom occurs to the actors. She was genuine, as far as I could tell.

“We’ll need to see that,” I said. “Also his Social Security number.”

“Sure.”

“And a photo, if you have one you can let us take for a while and get it photocopied.” It was going to be a lot easier to ask possible witnesses if they’d seen the deceased if we had a photograph. I cleared my throat. “Fairly recent, if you can.”

“Sure. Okay.”

“Now, Linda, we have to talk about who killed him, and why.”

“I don’t know. I can’t think of anybody. Really,” she said, beseechingly. “I don’t know…”

“Okay,” I said. I hated to ask the next question. “You two have any kids?”

“No.”

“I’m asking, because you may be in as much danger as he was.” I leaned forward, toward her side of the desk. “I’m very serious. You, or people related to you, or friends of yours, may be at risk.”

“Oh, come on, Houseman,” said Terri.

“It’s true,” I said. “Until we know for sure why he was killed and who killed him, we have to assume relatives and associates might also be targets. It’s the only safe way to go about this.”

Terri didn’t seem to buy it.

Linda looked up at Terri and said, “He wasn’t into dope. I know you think he was, but he wasn’t.” That squelched Terri more effectively that I ever could. Then she turned to me. “You want to search our apartment? You can if you want to. I don’t care.”

“How about we just go back with you and get a copy of his birth certificate and the photograph? Maybe look around at some of his stuff, but that’s not really too necessary.” I hate to turn down an offer to search, but we really didn’t have any grounds to even do a consent search of her premises.

“Fine.”

“Now, we didn’t find any ID of any sort on him. None. No billfold. Did he carry a billfold?”

“Yes. Always.”

“Do you know if he had it with him yesterday?”

“I didn’t see, you know? I mean, I didn’t watch him put it in his pocket. It’s not around the house, or I would have seen it.” She looked at Terri. “We have to call the funeral people. I know there’s lots of stuff to do.”

“We have to call his mother first,” said Terri. That was certainly true. The mother was the only true next of kin we had. One of the problems with living together. You may be the person in the world who is closest to them, but you have damned little legal standing.

Linda’s attention was going to hell. I sure didn’t blame her. “Just a couple more questions for now, Linda. Did he have any credit cards? A driver’s license? Things like that?”

“Yes. He did.” She was trying.

“We’ll need the numbers from his credit cards,” I said. “Since we can’t rule out a robbery motive, we need to check if there’s any activity on them in the next couple of weeks.”

“Sure.”

“Then…”

“You’ll have to have her permission to do that,” said Terri, interrupting.

“All you have to do, Linda,” I said, “is look over your statements and make sure there aren’t any charges you haven’t put there yourself.” I looked up at Terri. She seemed satisfied. I really didn’t need her getting all overprotective on us. I looked back to Linda. “What state was his driver’s license in? Do you know?”

“Iowa.”

That caught me by surprise. “You sure?” I was assuming he still had a California license, since our record search indicated that all the Cuevas in Iowa who had a DL were female. “When did he get it?”

“After we moved in together. About five months ago.”

“So, he had, like, a California one before that?”

“No,” said Linda. “No, he never had one before, as far as I know.”

Interesting. “Did he drive, though? Before he got his license?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you two meet?” I needed to establish more background on Cueva, if possible.

“The plant. I used to work there.”

“Okay, so, when was that? About how long ago?”

“About six months ago… early August, this year.”

I’m always surprised at just how fast some people dive into a relationship. “So you’ve known him for a good six months, then?”

“Yeah,” she said, and started to cry again.

Linda, who’d started in a bad state for an interview, was losing ground fast. I felt sorry for her, but… well, I really needed her in a frame of mind where she’d be able to focus, so I asked Terri to take her home to Battenberg and I’d be there after lunch.

“I’ll take you to the clinic first,” Terri told her. “You’re going to need something…”

Linda just nodded.

I wasn’t happy about the clinic, but Terri was right. Since Linda wasn’t a suspect, we’d be able to talk again even though she may have had a mild sedative. Interviewing any witness who’s in an induced state is a pretty slippery slope, but I really didn’t see a problem with this one.

Hester and Dr. Steven Peters met me at the office for lunch. They had grabbed some burgers, but I was sticking to my new diet and had put rice and low-fat sausage patties in the microwave in the jail kitchen. To make the stuff palatable, I’d bought a bottle of Uncle Bob’s Hickory Smoke Flavor, which I sprinkled liberally on the “food” in the plastic bowl before I nuked it. It hadn’t tasted too bad the other times I’d had it, but the odor took a bit of getting used to.

“Is there something burning?” asked Hester.

“No, it’s my lunch.”

“You sure? “she asked.

“Yep.”

“It does smell like smoke,” said Dr. Peters. “Really.”

I went to the cupboard and showed them the bottle. “Want some? It tastes better than it smells.”

“Hard to believe,” said Hester dryly. “No thanks. Besides, the smell’s already affecting my taste.”

“Suit yourself,” I said. “So, I hope there was nothing unexpected about the cause of death?”

“The cause of death,” said Dr. Peters, “was remarkably easy to determine, if that’s what you mean. GSW, head. Massive trauma. More the effect of the gas pressure than the shot pellets,” he said. He took a swig of pop from the can. “Toxicology will be back in a day or two, but I don’t expect anything out of the ordinary.” He grinned. “Anything toxic would have to work very, very quickly to beat the gunshot wound in this one.”

“That’s a lot to be thankful for,” I said. “The simpler the better. You knew, didn’t you, that we have a new county attorney?”

“No! Really? What happened?”

Hester laughed, but said nothing. Dr. Peters looked questioningly at her. “Better if he tells it,” she said, nodding toward me.

“The old one developed a skin irritation, or an allergy or something. Really. They said it was the pollen, maybe herbicides, maybe mold spores. So he moved.”

“Really? “Dr. Peters looked quizzically at Hester.

“That’s not the funny part,” she said.

“Nobody wanted the job,” I said. That was quite true. The county considered it a part-time job, so they paid whoever it was about thirty thousand bucks a year. Nation County was lucky to get any lawyer at that rate, and what they ended up with was often an attorney who had to have a full-time regular practice on the side just to make ends meet. When they did that, they’d occasionally find themselves being asked to prosecute their own clients. Not good. Nobody who’d made it through law school wanted those hassles, with one general exception. Newbies.

“So you don’t have one, currently?”

Hester laughed again. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“We have one,” I said. “Named Carson Hilgenberg. He passed the bar last July. This is his first job.”

Hester couldn’t let it drop. “Tell him the rest of it, Houseman.”

I looked at Dr. Peters. Hell, he had to know, if for no other reason than to be able to anticipate what he might have to face with the courts. “He’s the nephew of the chairman of the Board of Supervisors.”

“Does that complicate things?” asked Dr. Peters. “It isn’t really nepotism if he’s elected.”

“Carson didn’t actually run for office. The Board appointed him. That’s not the problem. Even his uncle can’t stand him and was hoping he wouldn’t pass the bar. The problem is, there were no other applicants. That and he literally couldn’t find a job anywhere else.” I cleared my throat. “He’s kind of an idiot.”

“Oh,” said Dr. Peters. “What’s he like in court?”

“Never seen him there,” I said. “He even bargains traffic tickets. Far as I know, he’s never tried a case even in magistrate’s court.”

“I guess we get really specific for him, then,” said Dr. Peters.

“Pictures,” said Hester. “I’d suggest lots and lots of pictures.”