“We better get Zal,” I said, and took off on my bike. I didn’t answer any of the questions CC called at me, just yelled back, “I’ll tell you there.”
She was steamed by the time we got to Zal’s. He was in the garage, flicking cards at a Styrofoam board. When he got it right, they’d stick in like ninja stars. Most were on the concrete floor. “What did you find?” he asked.
“Tell him,” I ordered CC.
She scowled at me and told. “I got a picture of the passport,” she finished. “It’s not very good because the old guy came in just as I was taking it.”
She pulled out her phone and showed us. CC was right. Her hand holding the passport open had gotten in the way as she tried to show two pages at once. Most of the photo was chopped off: from the nose down, it could have been a clean-shaven, short-haired Marty, or not.
“Lamar Del Ray,” Zal said slowly. “I know that name from somewhere.”
I shook my head. “Doubt it. He’s a guy who works at Aurora B with my Aunt Jenn. He has a beard and moustache too. That picture might be either one of them, shaved.”
“The picture looked like Marty,” CC insisted. “Sort of. I only got a glimpse.”
Zal said, “So Marty Raymond either has this Lamar guy’s passport or a fake one with his own picture in it. But why? What’s it got to do with the Bandit?”
I sighed. “I don’t know, but I can tell you this much. My Aunt Jenn knows Marty from way back. She says he’s trouble, and I’m not supposed to see him. I don’t know the connection to Lamar Del Ray. I only met him once, when he delivered to our building. I didn’t like him. Aunt Jenn said she felt sorry for him.”
I leaned in close. “But here’s the thing: Remember you said how Marty Raymond showed up late the day we caught the caiman? And there was a bank robbery right before? Well, I saw Lamar Del Ray the same day. He zoomed into the park in Aunt Jenn’s car, and later I saw Aunt Jenn driving it out of the park. She said he borrowed it for a job interview. But what if he didn’t go for a job interview? What if …”
“He robbed a bank,” CC finished for me. “And met Marty. Or Marty handed off to him. He’s got a beard and moustache?”
I nodded. “And he has, like, a leather cowboy hat. Wide brim.”
Zal whistled. “The Bandit Brothers.”
“The Twin Thieves,” CC put in. “No, the Thief Twins.”
“They don’t look that much alike,” I corrected. I had kind of hoped telling about Lamar Del Ray would somehow help to clear Marty Raymond.
“Either way,” Zal said, “we have another suspect. We have to find out about this guy and how he connects to Gator Aid. Does your Aunt Jenn know where he lives?”
I shrugged. “She gave him a lift partway home once.”
“You guys,” CC snorted. “That’s why I tried to photograph two pages of the passport. The other has an address.”
We huddled over her phone. CC fiddled with it. “Three sixteen Pacific Avenue,” Zal read out. A quick check told us it was the other side of Oakwood Park. We got permission to go ride the Trails. We told ourselves that straying a block or two past the other side wasn’t going to make much difference.
“What’ll we do if he’s there?” I wondered as we pedalled.
“Nothing yet,” said CC. “We just need to know where he is so we can tail him if we have to. If he’s not, maybe we could search the place.”
“What?”
“Can’t you guys ride any faster?”