Death Roe (11 page)

21

Tuesday, November 2, 2004

LANSING, INGHAM COUNTY

They shipped the evidence by 8 a.m., grabbed a greasy breakfast sandwich at the drive-through BK Lounge, and delivered Denninger to her vehicle in Alpena County.

“You did good,” he said.

“Anytime you need a partner, yell,” she said, heading for her truck. Last summer he had worked briefly with her and had had the impression she was too cynical for someone so early in her career, but this time she had shown none of that. He was impressed.

He was just west of Alpena when his cell phone buzzed.

“I see you on the AVL,” Chief O'Driscoll said. “I need to see you in Lansing ASAP.”

“For what?”

“I'll explain when you get here.”

It wasn't like the chief to be so mysterious. Service immediately called Miars on his cell. “The chief wants me in Lansing.”

“Me too,” Miars said.

“Any idea what's going down?”

“I smell a shitstorm,” his sergeant said.

“See you there.”

The two officers went into the chief's office together and were told to sit.

“You raided the Piscova plant last night?” Lorne O'Driscoll asked.

“I wouldn't call it a raid,” Service said as he outlined the chain of events.

“Did you have a warrant?” the chief asked.

“We saw an illegal egg buy and saw the eggs handed off to an individual who took them into Piscova, and he was working on the caviar line. There were New York eggs being mixed with ours.”

Service suddenly wondered why DeKoening had given the eggs to Veatch and not taken them directly to the plant herself. O'Driscoll offered Service and Miars coffee from his thermos.

“Our department's assistant general counsel for law enforcement just told us you may be a little into the gray area on this one,” said O'Driscoll.

“Will it stand up?” Service asked.

“According to our lawyer, it might and it might not.”

“What's going on, Chief?” Service asked.

“Piscova filed suit this morning, claiming illegal seizure, violation of civil rights, the usual litany of wah-wah. The judge has already granted an interim restraining order, which means the seized evidence is to be placed in the court's custody until this gets settled. There will be a full hearing in about ten days.”

“The evidence is en route to New York,” Service said. “It'll be there tomorrow. Who's the judge?”

The chief remained composed. “Valakos, one of Bozian's golfing pals. Call New York and have them hold the eggs until the court decides what it wants to do.”

“This is bullshit, Chief,” Service said.

“I know, but Teeny has blown his stack,” the chief said. “He's ordering reprimands and all sorts of crap for the both of you. I told him there's nothing I can do.”

Service looked at the chief. “I don't understand.”

“I knew this was going to blow up,” the chief said. “It's just happening sooner than I'd anticipated. Two days ago I talked to the U.S. Attorney in Grand Rapids. Effective October thirtieth, you are reporting to one of his assistants here in Lansing. This way nobody inside the department can touch you. When your investigation is complete, you'll be transferred back. With the IRS involved and apparent Lacey violations, this is appropriately a federal case.”

The Lacey Act laid out a wide-reaching law governing the trade and treatment of animal and plant life in the U.S. It had been signed into law in 1900 and amended numerous times over the intervening century. It was the legal linchpin in both federal and state efforts to manage certain natural resources.

“What about Denninger?” Service asked. “Sergeant Miars wasn't with me.”

The chief chewed his lip for a moment. “Miars stays where he is. If Teeny can't get at you, he'll come down on Denninger. I'll call her this morning and assign her for the duration of the case.”

“You can do this?” Miars asked.

“Our lawyer says it's unusual but entirely legal—there's precedent in other states—and in this case, it's probably appropriate. She doesn't like Teeny or her boss, and she's always been good to law enforcement, even when she has had reasons not to be. The U.S. Attorney is Anniejo Couch. She's been with the Justice Department a long time and is in a preretirement slide. Give her a bump, go see her, and get your marching orders and rules of engagement. She's good people, and won't get in your way.”

“What about her boss?” Service asked.

The chief frowned. “Riley Endicott is a card-carrying neocon, and definitely not a wave-maker. But Couch will provide a wall to let you proceed with your investigation. All we can do is gather the facts and present the case.”

“Grady's not part of the DNR?” Miars asked.

“Spiritually, yes; technically and administratively, no. When the job is done, we'll bring him home.”

The two officers took the elevator downstairs and bumped into Eino Teeny in the lobby. “I've been looking for you,” the director said.

Service raised his eyebrows. “Me?” The last time he'd seen Teeny he had been with Governor Sam Bozian.

“You will report to my office immediately.”

Service looked at the man. “You're the director of the DNR, right?”

“You bloody well know I am,” Teeny snapped.

“Yeah, well, here's the thing, sir: I don't work for the DNR,” Service said, and though he knew he was on safe ground, the words felt awful and sent a chill down his spine.

The two officers left the director standing there with his mouth open.

When they got outside Service stopped and lit a cigarette. “This feels pretty weird,” he said, holding the pack out to his sergeant.

“
I
still work for the DNR,” Miars said. “And I've got twenty years in.”

“You could've gone with Teeny if you feel so strongly about it. Do you trust the chief to run interference for us?”

Miars nodded.

“Me too,” Service said. “Let's not worry about political stuff and get after these assholes.”

Miars said, “I guess you're gonna call on the U.S. Attorney.”

Service looked at his sergeant and admitted, “I'm nervous, too.”

“Did you ship the evidence right away because you smelled this coming down?”

“I shipped it because it's perishable, and the FDA in New York has a DNA test that will help us determine what we have.”

The sergeant nodded as Service headed for his vehicle.

Okay then,
Service thought.
Your ass is way out there this time
.

22

Tuesday, November 2, 2004

GRAND RAPIDS, KENT COUNTY

Assistant U.S. Attorney Anniejo Couch looked to be in her early fifties, had hair the color and consistency of dry straw, stood no more than five feet tall, and was squarely built and muscled like a pint-sized linebacker. She wore a baggy pantsuit and square-toed shoes with no heels.

“So, you're my new operative,” she greeted Service, leading him into a small conference room off her office and nodding for him to sit.

“Lorne and I go back a long way,” she began. “He said you poked your dick into a hornet's nest, which tells me you like pain. Hell,” she added, “I like pain too. If I had a dick, I'd probably stick mine in the hornet's nest and stir it like pancake batter.”

Grady Service stared at the woman and had no idea what to say.

“The way this will work is you will build your case and charge all expenses to my budget.” She handed him a stack of folders. “Forms, procedures, account numbers, and details are in there. When the case is over we'll either tack the expenses onto costs at trial, or the feds will eat them. The state's broke, so they can't handle it. Lorne called a few minutes ago and said there'll be a second officer with you.”

“Denninger,” Service said.

“Right, the female. You two gonna operate out of your own places, or do you need a place to stay?”

“We haven't gotten that far,” Service said. “We just learned about this a couple of hours ago.”

Couch said, “If you need somewhere to crash down this way, my brother has a place over by Saranac. It's empty, it's free, and you can use it whenever and for as long as you need it.” She went out to her office and came back with a key on a ring. “Make extras if you want, or hide this where you can find it. It's a pretty basic place. My brother bought it to develop as a cross-country skiing lodge, but that lasted one winter. My brother's not good at sticking to anything except my sister-in-law because she has the money. The good news is that there's a sauna and it's got hot and cold running water, a stove, cable, computer line, fridge, and all that good stuff. You'll be about halfway between Lansing and Grand Rapids, with easy access onto I–96. That will help make your life a little easier.” She put her elbows on the desk and stared at him. “Lorne briefed me on the case, but I'd like to hear it from you.”

Service laid out the case for her.

“Piscova and Quint Fagan,” she said, shaking her head and grinning. “You met Fagan yet?”

Service shook his head.

“Total asshole,” Couch said. “You got a forensic accountant on your team yet?”

“No,” Service said.

“That IRS agent you mentioned, Leukonovich? I've heard of her. Supposed to be good, but you'll also need somebody from state.” She scribbled a name on a piece of paper and slid it across the table. “Emma Jornstadt's a little arrogant and weird for my tastes, but she's good at her job. You want me to call her, or do you want to do it?”

“You can,” Service said.

“A lot of people think I'm a bitch and just waiting to retire,” she said, grinning. “They're half right. I love this work, and I've got no time for anything but ballbusters and hard chargers. You need anything, call. Use initiative and creativity and don't back off Fagan. I'd like a briefing every week or so to keep me in the loop.”

23

Tuesday, November 2, 2004

SARANAC, IONIA COUNTY

Service found the property on Jackson Road, off Riverside Drive. A line of cotton-woods formed a ragged natural fence along a creek bank behind the house.

He had stopped at a grocery store in Saranac and done some basic shopping for supplies. After a quick tour around the place he decided he liked what he saw. Not fancy at all, but pretty well equipped, and private. The main building was a sort of Dutch colonial A-frame with a sleeping loft that contained two double beds. There was a woodstove downstairs and a stack of wood on the back deck. There were woods twenty yards away and he could see a lot of deadfalls cluttering the creek bottom. A pole barn next to the house would hide their trucks.

Denninger pulled in around the time he was getting ready to grill pork chops on a Weber grill on the deck that extended toward the creek. The young officer walked in and threw a couple of bags on the floor. “Beer in the fridge,” Service said. “Pork chops work for you?”

“What the
hell
is going on?” she asked, opening the refrigerator. “Am I in trouble?”

“You didn't ask any questions about our visit to Elk Rapids, but now that you're part of it, you need to know what we're up against.”

Denninger popped the tab on her beer, took a swig, and listened intently. When Service finished she asked, “Does this mean I'm gonna have a short career?”

“Hell, no,” he said. “You're gonna have an interesting career, but all interesting careers have some major bumps along the way.”

“What about my area? Deer season is coming up,” she said.

“The chief will take care of it,” Service said. He wondered how she was going to handle missing deer season, the highlight of most officers' work year.
Better than me,
he hoped.

“He told me to just get my butt over here, and not to talk to my sergeant or my lieutenant.”

“The fewer people who know what we're doing, the better,” Service said, accepting a can of beer from her. “There's potato salad and pea-and-peanut salad in the fridge. You want to set the table?”

“I don't like domestic work,” she said.

“Me neither,” he said.

She smiled. “Great. We'll be Oscar and Oscar.”

They talked about the case while they ate, and Service began to lay out the next steps from his perspective.

“Our people on the take?” she asked in an incredulous voice.

“Assumed until we rule it out.”

“We're in thin air, aren't we?”

She shook her head.

“Very.”

“The first thing we need to do is call Rogers in New York and tell him to impound the eggs,” she said.

“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow to make sure he has them.”

“First thing?”

“I was thinking more like midday.”

She recoiled. “The evidence could be in testing by then.”

“Yeah, that
could
happen,” Service said, deadpan. “I think we should attend the hearing,” he added. “If anything goes south, it's on my shoulders.”

“When is it?”

He answered with a shrug. “Ten days or so. I also have the name of a forensic accountant who will join us.”

“You talked to Roxy Lafleur a second time?” she asked.

“Not since Miars and I were up there,” Service said. “At some point I want to talk to Alma DeKoening and try to get a bead on where she is with her job and Fagan. We saw her drop the eggs with Veatch and go on to the plant. I don't get why she didn't just take them there herself.”

Denninger rolled her eyes. “She wanted to get laid.”

Probably true, but this didn't explain why she'd left the eggs with Veatch. “I also think we should dig around and look at all allegations of all people on the take. We know from Roxy Lafleur that Langford Horn got a boat. We ought to see it, take photos. We also ought to look at the allegation of women and vacations and all that, one at a time, try to pinpoint who got what, when and where, if anything. We also need to talk to as many former employees as we can find to explore what they might know about the caviar operation.”

“And coordinate everything with New York?” Denninger added.

“I'll be the primary with Rogers and New York for now. We need to go to New York at some point and see if we can interview Piscova's customers.”

“Can't New York handle that on their own?”

“Good question.” He had a feeling he needed to meet with Rogers to work out the coordination and a sense of how he saw the case. “The bottom line is that New York has the case, but they also had no clue about what they had until we stepped in and gave them direction. As far as I'm concerned, that makes it
our
case.”

“How long has this been going on?” Denninger asked.

“Miars and Zins had it for eighteen months. Me, less than three weeks.”

“Teeny actually stopped you in the Mason lobby?”

“Very unhappy man. I ignored him. I'm guessing he'll soon be out of it.”

“You ever get this kind of blowback before?”

“Nothing so blatant. When you piss off people you're more likely to get passive-aggressive crap and a lot of cold stares. I've gotten a whole lot of cold stares about my cases over the years,” he added. “Unless they turn out all right. Then everybody's your pal.”

“I heard,” she said, looking at the paper bags on the counter. “There's not enough real food here. We need to seriously shop. You cook, I'll do dishes. I get the shower first in the morning. I don't wake up fast and I sleep like I'm dead. Where's my bedroom?”

“
Our
bedroom is upstairs. We each get a double bed. There's a sauna out back on the riverbank.”

She rubbed her face. “I've been told I snore.”

“You cool with this?” he asked.

“I'm pachydermatous,” she said.

“What?”

“Oblivious to reactions I create in others.”

He laughed. “That's makes two of us.”

First thing the next morning Service limped through an hour-long run along the river, came back, and made a pot of coffee and breakfast as Denninger struggled downstairs in flannel PJs and wool socks, trying to will the sleep out of her eyes. Her breakfast was the same as his: one egg, one piece of dry rye toast, one small yogurt, and eight ounces of orange juice.

“Combat rations?” she asked. “I eat
real
food.”

“Pretty much.”

After eating he called Anniejo Couch. “We'll need some equipment here. Pencils, pens, a computer, a laser printer, a few reams of paper, couple of file cabinets, file folders, three or four white boards, markers, CDs, erasers, paper clips, cassette tapes, several cots and folding chairs . . . the drill. Is there a form to fill out?”

“Next time. I wrote it all down and will make sure you get what you need. I think I can get the stuff there tomorrow afternoon. That work?”

“Thanks.”

“Your colleague there yet?” the assistant U.S. attorney asked.

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“Not for now.”

His next call went to Roxanne Lafleur, who sounded tired.

“Grady Service here. You up to talking?”

“I'm sorry, but it will have to be tomorrow morning, early. I have to see the doctor tomorrow afternoon.”

Service looked at his watch. It was 10 a.m. If he left now he could be at Slippery Creek tonight and spend the night before driving up to the Hurons tomorrow morning. “What time is good for you?” he asked.

“I'm an early riser. How about eight?”

“See you then.”

He called Candi McCants on her cell phone. “You on patrol?”

“Blasting off in a few.”

“I'm going to head for Slippery Creek, be there tonight. You want to drop the animals?”

“How long will you be here?”

“Just tonight.”

“Why don't you just stay at my place,” she said. “It'll be open. Let yourself in.”

His next call was to Karylanne Pengelly.

“Hello?” she answered.

“It's Grady. How're you feeling?”

“Beat. This is a lot harder than I anticipated. Are you coming over?”

“I'm downstate.”

“Oh,” she said.

He heard the disappointment in her silence. “What's tomorrow afternoon look like?”

“Class till four.”

“I'll meet you at your place at four-thirty.”

“Are you sure?”

“You bet. You want me to cook?”

“Thanks, but I'll take care of that. It gets my nose out of the books.”

When he hung up the phone he found Denninger eyeballing him. “
What?
” he asked.

“Do I wear a uniform while we're doing this work?”

“It's your choice.”

She came downstairs a while later in corduroys and a sweater. He made more coffee and they sat down at the table together.

“I ordered supplies. They'll be delivered tomorrow. I'm heading up to the U.P. to interview Roxy Lafleur again. Be back the day after tomorrow. I've got some cassette tapes. I want to record every interview and create transcripts. We'll share the typing. I'll type yours, you type mine. Fair enough?”

She nodded. He handed her the cassettes from his first Lafleur interview and his meeting with Andriaitis, and a list of Piscova's former employees. “We're getting a computer and a printer, but you can use your laptop; we'll transfer it to disk and later move it all onto the new computer. Call the former employees, see if their phones are valid. Tell them you're with the phone company and doing a routine line check. Questions?”

“Did you get up and run this morning?”

“Every morning I can,” he said.

“Get me up, too.”

“Okay.”

“Do we find out who the area officer is and let them know we're in the area?”

He thought about this for a second. “No. We don't tell anyone where we are for now.”

“Because?”

“You really want an answer?”

She shook her head.

“Is what it is,” he said. “We've got Miars, the chief, and each other. Everybody else is suspect until we determine they're not.”

“This is sort of creeping me out.”

“Me too. You okay holding down the fort?”

“I don't care for that term. How about we call it the resort?”

“Your choice.”

“Have you got a plan in mind?”

“Very rough at this point.”

She took a pen out of her pocket and grabbed a tablet of paper. “Start talking and I'll start writing. I'll transfer what we have to notepads. If some of my friends call on my cell, what do I tell them?”

“Be creative,” he said. “Just don't tell them the truth.”

“Sick irony,” she said.

“Okay,” he said, taking a gulp of coffee. “Ready?”

Dani Denninger nodded and he began to talk through what he knew and didn't know and what he thought they ought to do and in what sequence.

When he was done he went out to his Tahoe and headed north, making a mental checklist of clothes to pack at his place. He would stop briefly at Slippery Creek, spend the night with McCants and the animals, see Lafleur in the morning, and drive to Houghton in the afternoon to see Karylanne. Pulling onto I-96 he sucked in a deep breath and tried to conjure a good travel mind-set.