Prey

Chapter Twenty-Four

Wednesday June 5th

Walter Crane, chief investigator for the firm of Little, Warren, Nobles and Kole, waited until Albert Bloom, Lisa Abercombie, Dr. Reston Wolfe, and the other five members of the ICER Committee were seated around the teak-and- rosewood table in the quiet, luxurious, and tightly secured conference room.

Then he picked up the crisp manila file folder containing his summary notes, glanced through the first page briefly, and discreetly cleared his throat.

"This is an interesting case," he began, showing the lack of discernible emotion that most of his audiences seemed to find comforting.

"If I were to summarize all of the facts in one brief statement, I would say that our clients apparently stumbled into a federal undercover investigation being conducted by a team of special agents from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service's Division of Law Enforcement.

"The team, which seems to be comprised of six special agents operating under the code designation 'Bravo,' is a part of the Special Operations Branch based out of the central Washington, D.C., office.

"I should note here," Crane said, pausing to look up at his audience, "that the Special Operations Branch is authorized to conduct undercover operations throughout the United States. There is no question of illegal or improper jurisdiction on the part of these agents. Or," he added significantly, "at least none that we are aware of at the moment."

"At any rate," he went on when there were no comments from anyone around the table, "the essence of the case is that on or about June the second of this year-which is to say, last Sunday afternoon-three brothers, named Alex, Butch, and Sonny Chareaux, took a Mr. Henry Allen Lightner, and of course our clients," Crane added without the slightest suggestion of sarcasm in his voice, "out on a guided hunt that turned out to be illegal."

"In what sense?" one of the ICER Committee members asked.

"Illegal in the sense that several protected, threatened or endangered animals-specifically, two grizzly bears, at least four elk, three whitetail deer, one peregrine falcon, one red- tailed hawk, and two golden eagles-were illegally killed, transported, and or possessed within or near the boundaries of Yellowstone National Park," Crane explained.

"But can they prove that all of these animals were taken by our clients?" the same man asked.

"That may be the relevant question," Crane nodded. "Right now I can tell you that some of these animals were subsequently found in the possession of Alex and Butch Chareaux at a local Montana taxidermist shop owned and operated by a Mr. Roberto Jacall. We also know that federal agents and state wardens spent several hours in the supposed hunting area taking photographs and collecting evidence. We are still waiting to receive copies of these crime-scene reports. Also, as far as we are aware, none of the individuals involved in the hunt had any hunting licenses, tags or permits that might have allowed them to take or possess these animals legally."

"But this is a federal case, and not state?" Albert Bloom interrupted, his normally tanned face looking pale.

"It is predominantly a federal case, although I would expect the state of Montana to be involved at some level, if for no other reason than a desire for mutual cooperation among federal and state agencies," Crane explained. "The initial arrests were made by Montana State Fish and Game officers, based upon the observations of two Stillwater County sheriffs deputies who responded to Mr. Lightner's nine-one-one call. The case was then transferred in fairly quick order to the local federal agent, who appears to have gotten into immediate contact with members of the Bravo Team."

"Which suggests that these federal undercover agents were almost certainly involved in all of this from the start," Bloom said, favoring Reston Wolfe with an ominous glare.

"Yes, it does," Crane nodded, "although I would caution all of you to keep in mind that it is still early in the process and that not all of the facts are in a format to be discoverable."

"What exactly does that mean?" another of the ICER Committee members demanded.

"While the case has been filed with the U.S. Attorney," Crane explained, "not all of the follow-up reports have been completed. At least two of the agents involved in the investigation are recovering from rather severe injuries and have not yet been able to put together all of their supplemental reports.

"But I should warn you," Crane added, "that while the investigative efforts of these agents have been summarized in detail by their supervisor-and there is no reason to think that any new information will be revealed in their final reports-there is always the possibility that additional charges could be filed as a result of these reports."

"When will we know about that?" the Committee member asked.

"That's difficult to tell," Crane shrugged. "Considering the nature of the injuries sustained by these officers, I would expect the judge to be very lenient in approving requests for continuances."

"One interesting aspect of this case, however," Crane went on, "is the readily apparent fact that there would have been no seizure of evidence, and certainly no arrests, at either the state or the federal level," he emphasized, "had it not been for a series of accidental events.

"These being," Crane raised three fingers in succession, "the very severe wounds sustained by Mr. Henry Allen Lightner during the hunt itself. The subsequent accident in which Mr. Butch Chareaux was seriously injured during the process of unloading the carcasses at Mr. Jacall's taxidermy establishment. And the fact that one of the responding deputies-whose brother happens to be a Montana State Fish and Game officer, and is therefore somewhat familiar with hunting regulations- found himself in a position to notice the carcasses in the back of Mr. Chareaux's truck."

"Incredible!" Albert Bloom shook his head.

"An unfortunate series of events at best," the chief investigator nodded.

"What charges have been brought so far?" another ICER Committee member asked.

Crane turned to the seventh typed page of his summary notes.

"So far," he said, "Alex, Butch, and Sonny Chareaux have been charged with a total of seventeen felony and five misdemeanor counts. These include assault on a federal officer, resisting arrest, and violations of the Endangered Species Act, the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, the Lacey Act, and the Airborne Hunting Act.

"In addition," Crane said after pausing for effect, "there are indications that other charges, such as kidnapping and the placing of an explosive device on a passenger airplane, may also be filed against one or more of these individuals at a later date."

"Jesus Christ!" some member of the committee whispered under his breath.

"Based upon our initial contacts with the U.S. Attorney's office, I think we can expect the court to set a bail of at least five hundred thousand dollars for each until a decision has been reached on the additional charges."

"Money is not the issue here," Albert Bloom said calmly. "What about the other charges?"

"Roberto Jacall and Henry Allen Lightner," Crane went on, "have been charged with two felony and one misdemeanor counts each, which include possession of untagged hunting trophies and unauthorized possession of a weapon in a national park.

"Mr. Jacall is likely to be charged with additional counts, depending on the lab analysis of hides and furs collected at what appears to be a hidden and illegal taxidermy operation located on his property. Bail is expected to be set at approximately one hundred thousand dollars.

"Mr. Lightner is currently hospitalized in federal custody. He may or may not be charged with the hunting and possession violations, depending upon the lab analysis of the bullets removed from the seized carcasses, footprints at the scenes, and the blood and hair on his clothing. His bail is expected to be set at approximately fifty thousand dollars.

"I should note here that based on our extensive interviews with Dr. Wolfe and Miss Abercombie, there seems to be some question as to the extent of Mr. Lightner's actual involvement in the hunt. Apparently he was scheduled to hunt that day, but then agreed to allow our clients to take his place at the last moment as a result of some financial arrangements.

"While Mr. Lightner certainly did take an active part in the hunt, it is not clear whether he actually shot at or killed any of these animals. Nor is it clear that he could be charged with transportation or possession, since he was apparently unconscious at the time.

"In essence," Crane explained, "it is our considered opinion that of all the subjects involved in this case, Mr. Lightner is the least vulnerable in terms of substantive charges, and therefore, the one most likely to consider a plea agreement with the U.S. Attorney's office."

"You mean testifying for the prosecution in exchange for a lesser sentence?" an ICER member asked.

"Or possibly he will face no prosecution at all," Crane nodded. "One thing we need to keep in mind about Mr. Lightner is that the majority of his injuries were apparently caused by misdirected gunfire

… that is to say, bullets fired by our clients."

Albert Bloom closed his eyes and shook his head slowly in disbelief.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen," Crane said quietly, "is the sum of all charges filed in this case to date. Are there any questions?"

"That's all?" Albert Bloom blinked.

"Yes, sir," Crane nodded. "As best we are able to tell so far, and-" he gestured toward the thick pile of documents that he and his highly paid team of private investigators had managed to collect during the previous twelve hours-"I would emphasize that we have only begun to sort things out. The focus of the federal investigation seems to have been on Alex Chareaux and his brothers. At this point, there is no indication that Dr. Wolfe or Miss Abercombie were ever targets of this undercover operation.

"In fact," Crane said as he carefully replaced his summary notes in the crisp manila file folder, "as far as we can tell, there is no indication that the federal officials are even aware that Mr. Wolfe and Miss Abercombie were ever involved in that hunt.

"But then, of course," he added, "so far, none of the individuals in custody have chosen to cooperate with the investigators by making a statement. Obviously, that could change at any time."

"What are we doing about that?" Bloom asked.

"As you know, we are currently representing the Chareaux brothers as their legal counsel; and we have, of course, advised them in the strongest possible terms to make no statements whatsoever. And as you directed, we have also offered our services to Mr. Jacall and to Mr. Lightner, making it clear that all costs will be borne by the Chareaux family… the very least that they could do under the circumstances."

"And their response?"

"It is our understanding that Mr. Jacall will accept our offer and sign the necessary papers this afternoon. We have been unable to reach Mr. Lightner in the hospital; however, we have been in contact with his family attorney, and the initial indications are that he will accept Mr. Chareaux's offer on behalf of his client," Crane said with an absolutely straight face. "Apparently this attorney has some limited experience with criminal law and is thus very impressed with the number and quality of the resources-trial attorneys and support staff-that we are willing to put to work in his client's defense. And it seems that he is perfectly willing to accept an appropriate retainer to act as co-counsel in this matter. I have been instructed, by the way, to tell you that Mr. Kole considers the terms of your contract to be exceptionally generous. As we discussed previously, the contingency provisions should cover any unexpected situation. And in any case, Mr. Kole feels that the bonus clause will certainly compensate us for any foreseeable overage costs at our end."

"Keeping in mind that the bonus clause applies only when and if you win," Bloom reminded.

"Yes, of course," Walter Crane nodded, actually smiling as he did so.

"Are there any other questions that I can answer for anyone at this time?" Crane asked politely.

"No, Walter. Thank you for coming," Albert Bloom said, getting up and shaking the chief investigator's hand as he led him over to the door.

After closing the door, Bloom walked back to his chair, sat down, and then stared down the full length of the teak- and-rosewood table at the two people whose inconceivable stupidity had triggered this multimillion-dollar coverup.

"Do either of you have a sense, any sense at all, of the damage that you may have caused with this, this… hunt?" he asked, his voice nearly choked with rage.

Lisa Abercombie knew Bloom well enough to keep her mouth tightly shut. But Reston Wolfe still viewed himself as a high-level government bureaucrat, one who would therefore have some degree of leverage over a mere captain of industry.

"I think you're overreacting, Mr. Bloom," Wolfe started in. "There was no reason at all for any of us to think that-"

But Albert Bloom cut him off in mid-sentence.

"No, don't you see, Mr. Wolfe, that is exactly the point," Bloom said emphatically. "There was every reason why you should have been thinking. Every reason in the goddamn world."

"But-"

"You repeatedly assured me that there were no federal investigations of any sort being run near the Whitehorse Cabin Training Center and that you had everything under control," Bloom rasped. "But there were investigations being conducted, and you didn't have everything under control, because you stepped right into the middle of a major covert investigation like it was a pile of horse shit lying there right in front of your goddamn eyes!"

Bloom paused as if determined to maintain some semblance of self-control.

"You may think that this is all just a sort of game, Mr. Wolfe," he said in a soft, menacing voice that barely carried across to the other end of the table. "But I want you to understand, very clearly, as clear as I can possibly make it, that Operation Counter Wrench is not a game. And it is not one of your infantile government projects where you can simply step back and blame one of your subordinates when something goes wrong."

"But-"

"Operation Counter Wrench, Mr. Wolfe," Bloom went on forcefully, ignoring his executive director's feeble protests, "is the most important and crucial project that you will ever be involved with in your life. And if you have caused it to falter-or, God forbid, to fail-because you couldn't resist the opportunity to go out in the woods and kill things with a goddamn gun…"

Bloom's face was red, his hands were extended out like claws, and he seemed to be temporarily incapable of doing anything other than shaking his head slowly in pure, incredulous disbelief.

"Mr. Bloom," Wolfe said after a few moments, using every bit of willpower he possessed to maintain what remained of his dignity, "I was assured by people high up in the Interior Department that there were no such investigations being conducted anywhere near Yellowstone National Park."

Wolfe paused, sighed deeply, then went on.

"I have no justifiable excuse for my behavior in this matter; however, I do believe that we may be able to take advantage of a procedural loophole to derail this investigation completely."

The word "derail" seemed to get Albert Bloom's attention. He blinked and then stared at Wolfe.

"Yes, go on," he growled.

"All major covert investigations conducted by our Fish and Wildlife Service officers must be approved at a higher level," Wolfe explained. "We insist on that to make certain that overzealous agents don't cause Interior undue embarrassment by conducting investigations that are, shall we say, politically inconvenient."

"You think that you can block this investigation on the basis that it might embarrass you?" Bloom whispered incredulously, finding it difficult to comprehend the arrogance and the stupidity of the man sitting before him.

"Oh no, of course not," Wolfe smiled. "What I'm talking about is a procedural issue. Or more to the point, a failure of procedure."

"Yes, go on," Bloom said, motioning with one hand impatiently.

"As best we can tell," Wolfe said with growing confidence, "this investigation was not approved at a higher level. At least there are no approval forms on record, which would suggest that the agents conducted the investigation on their own. Basically, a failure to follow proper administrative procedures. It happens occasionally. Not necessarily the fault of the agents, of course." Wolfe smiled. "As we all know, they are a very dedicated group of men and women. But occasionally their dedication and their enthusiasm will carry them a little too far. And when that happens, the courts have no option but to drop the case."

Albert Bloom still wasn't smiling, but his face was more composed now, and he was starting to nod slowly in understanding.

"It's a shame," Wolfe went on, "especially when career criminals like the Chareaux brothers occasionally get off. But I believe the public understands that our system of justice is far too precious to be undermined by failures of procedure, well intentioned as they may be."

"Do you seriously believe that you can, as you put it, derail this investigation without attracting any suspicion to yourself or anyone else associated with ICER?" Bloom asked skeptically.

"Yes, I do," Wolfe said calmly. "In fact, I'm absolutely certain of it."

"Well, I'm not," Bloom responded, but the anger in his voice had clearly receded.

"Albert," Lisa Abercombie finally said in an uncharacteristically subdued voice, sensing her opportunity, "Reston and I realize that we have made a horrible and unforgivable mistake, but we are absolutely certain that we can recover."

"How, by invoking 'failure of procedures'?" Bloom demanded.

"That, and by making absolutely sure that no one can connect us to that hunt," Abercombie nodded.

"And how do you intend to do that?"

"Only three people can testify that they actually saw us hunting illegally," she said. "Alex Chareaux, his brother Butch, and this man Lightner. You have already made arrangements for their defense. We will simply add whatever incentives are necessary to insure their silence in the future."

"Will that work?"

"I'm convinced it will," Abercombie nodded. "We understand that the Chareaux brothers have had some previous difficulties with the law in Louisiana. Something about two game wardens being tortured and killed. Under the circumstances, they might even be agreeable to a complete relocation out of the country. As a matter of fact, South Africa strikes me as the perfect solution. A place where they could hunt and guide to their heart's content.

"And in the meantime," she went on, encouraged by Albert Bloom's grudging nod, "we will see to it that every one of the items that could possibly link Reston and me to that scene-vehicles, guns, everything- are immediately destroyed."

"Now wait a minute!" Wolfe started to protest. "I spent a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars on that rifle, and I'll be damned-"

"You will destroy it, immediately," Bloom snarled. "The rifle, and the paperwork or photographs or anything else that would indicate that you ever possessed such a weapon."

Then he shifted his gaze back to Lisa Abercombie.

"And what about this man Lightner?"

"Don't worry about that either," Lisa Abercombie said, her voice as cold and determined as always. "I will see to it personally that Mr. Lightner is taken care of."

"Are you still mad at me?" Lisa Abercombie whispered as she used her trembling arms to push herself away from Albert Bloom's amazingly hairy and muscular chest.

It was late, and they had argued some more over dinner, but Lisa Abercombie was patient because she knew that once they were back in Bloom's penthouse suite, she would have the advantage.

They had deliberately left the window open, and the hot, humid Washington, D.C., air had immediately filled the darkened and luxurious master bedroom, providing a continuous source of sweat that allowed their well-toned bodies to slide smoothly against each other.

Albert Bloom slowly slid his fingers up along Abercombie's sweaty torso until her slick and swollen breasts were resting in the palms of his hands.

"No, I'm not mad, I'm worried about you," he finally said in a soft whisper. "I know that you like to take risks, and I love you because of that, but you must never let it get out of control." Then he slid his thumbs across her hard nipples.

Lisa Abercombie moaned softly and brought her lips down against his ear.

"You know," she whispered in a silky-smooth voice, "that I never allow things to get out of control."