THE CAMERA FEED FROM THE LAPD interrogation room is a little grainy. A glum and handcuffed Miguel Fuentes and his lawyer sit on one side of a conference table, Betsy Takahashi and an assistant DA sit across from them. Erica is in her office with the door shut, riveted to her computer screen.
“Miguel, we’re glad that you’ve decided to accept our plea deal,” the DA says. “What we would like you to do is walk us through everything that you know about the murders of Kay Barrish and Arturo Yanez.”
“I don’t know anything about the murder of Kay Barrish.”
“You know that Arturo Yanez was paid to murder her?”
Fuentes nods.
“So you do know something about Barrish’s murder. The more open and honest you can be with us, the easier this will be for all of us. Did you make the original contact with Yanez?”
“No.”
“Do you know who did?”
Fuentes hesitates before saying glumly, “Ricky Martinez.” Sweat breaks out on his brow. He may have just signed his death warrant.
“Is Martinez a member of Nortenos?”
“Yes. He is above me.”
“Have you done jobs with him before?”
“Yes.”
The DA turns to Takahashi. “Get a warrant and an APB out on Martinez.”
Takahashi leaves the room, and everyone waits silently until she returns about ninety seconds later.
The DA continues. “Was Martinez in the car with you when you picked up Yanez at the bus stop on Santa Monica Boulevard?”
“Yes. I was driving.”
“How did Martinez find Yanez?”
“They are both from Juarez. From the same street. Ricky knew that Arturo’s mother was sick and that he needed money bad.”
“After you picked Yanez up, did you drive straight out to the desert?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you kill him?”
“I did not kill him!”
“So Martinez fired the shot?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In the desert.”
“And what did he do with the gun?”
“He buried it in the desert.”
“At the spot where you dumped his body?”
Fuentes slumps forward, a look of self-pitying regret on his face. “Yes.”
“So you drove into the desert, Martinez opened the trunk, shot Yanez, and buried the gun?”
Fuentes puts his head in his hands, looks like he might throw up.
“Answer the question.”
“Yes.”
“And then you drove back to Covina and abandoned the car?”
“Yes.”
“Who stole the car from the beach parking lot?”
“I did.”
“All right, Miguel. Thank you for your cooperation. Now I want to ask you a very important question. And I want you to think before you answer. Will you do that?” the DA asks.
Miguel nods.
“Do you know who contacted Ricky Martinez to find Yanez in the first place?”
Erica leans forward, studies Fuentes’s face.
“I don’t know . . .” Fuentes says, and it’s obvious he’s lying.
“Think hard, Miguel.”
“I don’t know,” he says in exasperation, looking like he might start to cry.
His lawyer leans in and whispers in his ear. Fuentes takes a deep breath. “All I know is a man came from the East, from New York, he met with Ricky, he knows Ricky. That is all I know.”
The DA waits. Lets him sweat. The seconds tick by.
Finally: “They will kill me, even in prison they will kill me. They are the hardest of all.” Now Fuentes looks afraid, very afraid.
“Who are?” the DA asks. Again no answer. The DA waits. And waits. Finally he says, “We can arrange for protection for you in prison. Put you in a segregated unit. But you have to tell us everything you know.”
More waiting. More sweating. More seconds ticking by. “He has money. Lots of money. He gives everyone money. He gets what he wants.”
“Who is he?!” the DA barks.
“I never met him! His name is Leonard Gorf or something! I don’t know! All I know is—he is fat and rich and Russian and he lives in New York!”
For a moment Erica feels like the world has stopped. Then she feels a jolt of pure adrenaline rock her body. One more layer of the onion has been peeled back—and there is Leonid Gorev. The Devil’s Brotherhood.
On-screen, the Los Angeles interrogation ends. Erica immediately calls Detective George Samuels. “Can we find out if a Leonid Gorev flew out to Los Angeles anytime in the month before May second, the day Barrish was killed?”
“We can try.”
“Can you meet me tomorrow? I want to go over an idea I have.”
“I hope it’s a good one.”
“How about at Mark’s room at Rusk Rehab? We can check on his progress. And see if he’s made any headway in locating the source of the ferry hacking.”
Erica hangs up. Her thoughts are racing. “They will kill me, even in prison they will kill me.” They killed Kay Barrish and Arturo Yanez. They almost killed Mark. And they may kill Fuentes. Would they think twice about killing Erica Sparks? Erica hugs herself and thinks of Jenny.