The bureau theory, outlined in a supplemental report to LaGrossa’s statement, was that Kenyon’s silent partner either was taking no chances and eliminated Kenyon or he eliminated Kenyon after specifically learning that his partner was planning to cooperate with government investigators. The supplemental report noted that federal agents and prosecutors had not yet been approached by the Kenyon camp with the overture of cooperation. That meant that if there was a leak to the silent partner, it came from Kenyon’s people, possibly even LaGrossa himself.
McCaleb got up and poured a glass of orange juice, emptying one of the half-gallon cartons he had bought on Saturday morning. As he drank, he thought about what all of the Kenyon information meant to the investigation. It clouded things for sure. Despite the early jolt of adrenaline, he now realized he was basically back to ground zero, no closer to knowing who killed Gloria Torres and why than he was when he opened the package mailed from Carruthers.
As he rinsed out the glass, he noticed two men coming down the main gangway to the docks. They were dressed in almost matching blue suits. Anybody in a suit stood out on the docks-usually, it was a bank loan officer come to chain down a boat for repossession. But McCaleb knew better this time. He recognized the demeanor. They were coming for him. Vernon Carruthers must have been found out.
Quickly, McCaleb went to the table and gathered up the bureau documents. He then split off the sheaf of pages that listed the names, addresses and other information about the savings and loan collapse. He put that thick packet in one of the overhead cabinets in the kitchen. The rest of the documents he shoved into his leather bag, which he then put into the cabinet under the chart table.
He slid the salon door open and stepped out into the cockpit to greet the two agents. He closed and locked the door behind him.
“Mr. McCaleb?” the younger one said. He had a mustache, daring by bureau standards.
“Let me guess, Nevins and Uhlig.”
They didn’t look happy about being identified. “Can we come aboard?”
“Sure.”
The younger one was introduced as Nevins. Uhlig, the senior agent, did most of the talking.
“If you know who we are, then you know why we are here. We don’t want this to get any messier than it has to be. Especially taking into account your service to the bureau. So if you give us the stolen files, it can all end right here.”
“Whoa,” McCaleb said, holding his hands up. “Stolen files?”
“Mr. McCaleb,” Uhlig said. “It has come to our attention that you are in the possession of confidential FBI files. You are no longer an agent. You should not be in possession of these files. As I just said, if you want to make this a problem for you, we can make it a problem for you. But all we really want is the files back.”
McCaleb stepped over and sat on the gunwale. He was trying to think about how they knew and it came back to Carruthers. It was the only way. Vernon must have gotten jammed up in Washington and had to give McCaleb up. But it was unlike his old friend to do that, no matter what pressure they put on him.
He decided to trust his instincts and call the bluff. Nevins and Uhlig knew Carruthers had run the ballistics laser comparison at McCaleb’s request. That was no secret. They must have then assumed that Carruthers would have forwarded him copies oaf the computer files.
“Forget it, guys,” he finally said. “I don’t have any files, stolen or otherwise. You got bad info.”
“Then how’d you know who we were?” Nevins asked.
“Easy. I found out today when you guys went to the sheriff’s office and told them to keep me out of the case.”
McCaleb folded his arms and looked past the two agents to Buddy Lockridge’s boat. Buddy was sitting in the cockpit, sipping from a can of beer and watching the scene with the two suits on
“Well, we’re going to have to take a look around, then, to make sure,” Uhlig said.
“Not without a warrant and I doubt you’ve got a warrant.”
“We didn’t need one after you gave us permission to enter and search.”
Nevins stepped over to the salon door and tried to slide it open. He found it was locked. McCaleb smiled.
“Only way you’re getting in there is to break it, Nevins. And that won’t look much like permission granted, you ask me. Besides, you don’t want to do that with an uninvolved witness watching.”
Both agents started looking around the marina. Finally, they spotted Lockridge, who held his beer can up as a greeting. McCaleb watched as anger turned Uhlig’s jaw rigid.
“Okay, McCaleb,” the senior agent said. “Keep the files. But I’m telling you right now, smart guy, don’t get in the way. The bureau’s in the process of taking over the case and the last thing we need is some tin man amateur without a badge or his own heart fucking things up for us.”
McCaleb could feel his own jaw drawing tight.
“Get the fuck off my boat.”
“Sure. We’re going.”
