Bombshell Part 24

"All right. You've heard of the Transnational Threat Alliance? It involves collaboration at all levels of law enforcement, even international, to bring down criminal organizations moving drugs across borders.

"Our own National Drug Intelligence Center picked up on a flood of marijuana and very pure cocaine comin' into the D.C. metro area startin' last summer. And not only D.C., but other cities in the area-Baltimore, Richmond, even Philadelphia.

"We traced its source to this general area with a new technology I'm sure you know about, the National License Plate Reader program. Customs and Border Patrol have installed handheld license plate readers at all our land ports of entry. They can't catch everythin' because there's a lot of commerce and travel they can't disrupt. You're heard how the cartels started concealin' drugs in car transmissions, truck manifolds, gas tanks, even produce, and it's tough for them. But they record all the license plates.

"We've expanded that program with established fixed locations inside the U.S. police cruisers, munic.i.p.alities-even private companies-now have automated readers. We mine that data and cross-reference it with known and suspected gang members and drug traffickers. You want to hear the kicker? Turns out there was simply too much of that kind of traffic in and out of this area for it to be a coincidence."

Griffin nodded. "And since Maestro is only an hour away from I-95, it makes a good drop-off and distribution center? Is that what you think is happening? In the perfect cover of a peaceful small town?"

"That's right. But there's more. The drug trade within a few hundred miles of here has some new players. The Mara Salvatrucha, a gang of mostly Central Americans, was always a threat, but they were mostly a loose aggregate of local gangs, more of an a.s.sociation than an organized cartel. You probably know them better as MS-13. Now they've established a major smugglin' center in Mexico, and they've become major local players in drugs, money launderin', even arms dealin' into and out of Mexico. Someone is makin' them into a force in this area, someone with the money, muscle, and guile to do it."

"And that person is here in Maestro?"

"We think so. We think that person is Rafael Salazar."

Griffin felt the shock of surprise. Surely not possible. But-"We'll get into that in a minute. Start at the beginning again. What do you know about him?"

"We heard last summer from the Spanish National Police-the Cuerpo National de Policia-that Rafael Salazar was a person of interest to them. He's part of a powerful Salvadoran family, the Lozanos, involved in guns and the drug trade. They spread their business into Spain, primarily through North Africa some two generations back, and now they could be branching into the U.S. The Spanish police alerted us Salazar was on his way here, to Stanislaus, for at least a year. That jibed closely with our own investigation, and it rang big alarm bells."

"You thought that Salazar's coming to Stanislaus meant the Lozano family was widening their influence to the local Maras?"

She nodded. "And the establishment of new sources for them from Mexico and South America."

Griffin was shaking his head. "Salazar is a world-famous cla.s.sical guitarist. You believe he's a drug trafficker, too? It sounds nuts. Why would he do it? It makes him a criminal, and surely he's got to realize if caught he'd be playing guitar to prisoners for the rest of his natural life. No more fame, adoration from fans, no more money in his pockets. You're saying he's also involved with his family in drugs? He's the one running organization MS-13 here at Stanislaus? I can't get my brain around it."

"Neither could I, at least for a while, but our information was solid. Salazar's mother, Maria Rosa, belongs to the Lozano crime family, originally out of San Salvador, as I said. At least three generations of extortion, weapons, drugs, prost.i.tution, you name it. Several of the cousins are high up in the Mara Salvatrucha in El Salvador. The Spanish police told us they didn't believe Maria Rosa had any involvement with the criminal part of the family enterprise, and that like her sons, she was a fine musician.

"But Salazar-we discovered he spent a good deal of his time with his mother's brother, Mercado Lozano, when he was growing up. His mother sent him there every summer from Spain. Mercado is now the kingpin of the Lozano operation in El Salvador. So the Spanish police have watched him for years now. But nothin' has stuck yet."

"I understand Salazar's brother invited him here," Griffin said. "Is Hayman involved, too?"

She shook her head. "To the best of our knowledge, Dr. Hayman has never dealt with the Lozano family, except, of course, his mother, Maria Rosa. She seems to have kept him out of the family business. Don't forget, he never lived with his mother, has never met any of his relatives in San Salvador, so far as we know."

Griffin nodded. "Twins, separated as boys. Look what happened to the two of them."

"Very different upbringings, but the same deep well of talent."

"Don't you think it's strange Dr. Hayman has no clue who and what his twin brother is? And his mother?"

"Yes, I agree with you, and so do my bosses. I've been keeping an eye on Dr. Hayman, but in six months I've seen nothing suspicious at all, and his name hasn't appeared anywhere it shouldn't. And so, Griffin, this is why I was sent here undercover. No one outside the DEA knew I was here, not even local law enforcement."

Griffin spoke his fear aloud. "Anna, he wants Delsey very badly."

"It bothered me as well until I realized she was probably only his obsession du jour. Since his arrival in September I've seen him focus on other graduate students, and after a while, he moves on."

He prayed she was right. "How did the DEA get Stanislaus to let you in?"

"Three of us agents applied, with the help of some imaginative letters of recommendation supplied by the Agency, but I was the only one to pa.s.s the audition."

He gave her a long look, nodded slowly. "What were you supposed to do exactly, search Salazar's house, his office? Or lie low and listen?"

"Maurie's Diner is gossip central, the perfect place to pick up random information and news. I know about every extramarital affair in Maestro. Now, as for Salazar's house, he's got a state-of-the-art alarm system, no gettin' around that, and I did try. But I did have occasional access, since he invites students to his house. But I could rarely look around alone; he'd have noticed.

"Finally in December I got into his office long enough to find a hidden drawer in his desk with records of large foreign bank transactions, and this was enough to get a federal warrant for electronic surveillance.

"Then about a week ago we got word from an informant in Baltimore that the MS-13 gang there was expectin' a large shipment from this area. With the federal warrant, we were set to move, so Arnie was sent in to set up surveillance in Salazar's house. He took a job with the Golden Goose Catering Company in Henderson because we knew Salazar would call them for the party Friday night. It gave him the opportunity to set up during the party."

"You never saw him after that," he said. It wasn't a question.

She shook her head, misery shining out of her eyes. "Someone got onto him, I don't know who. It's the only thing that makes sense." She swallowed. "When I didn't hear from Arnie Sat.u.r.day morning, I called him on his throwaway cell phone several times, but there was no answer. I called the Golden Goose, and they told me he hadn't helped with the clean-up at the party; they were really angry about it. That's when I knew for sure somethin' had happened to him. I went to his apartment house in Henderson and waited for Mrs. Simpson to go out so she wouldn't see me. I went to his apartment and cleaned it out before someone else did. I took his files and his computer but left his clothes."

Griffin said, "And that's why there were only the basics there by the time Dix's people arrived at his apartment. At least you got the stuff out before the drug dealers did."

"A good thing, since I was in those files. They would have found me."

Monk meowed, pressed his face against her leg. She reached down and picked him up. He was a behemoth, at least twenty pounds, and she had to brace herself. Then she stood rocking the cat, shifting from one foot to the other. He could hear Monk's manic purrs from six feet. She pressed her face against his thick black fur.

"What do you think happened Friday night?"

"Arnie called me that night, about six o'clock, as usual, told me he'd arrived with the other caterers at Salazar's house. I remember he told me how easy it would be, said since he was one of the crew he'd be able to move easily around the house without bein' noticed. He said the house would soon be filled with people, so he'd have all the cover he needed.

"I remember when I told him to be careful, I swear I could see his smile over the phone. He told me it was a b.u.mmer I'd had to be here for six months with nothing more to do than serve hamburgers and play my fiddle. I could tell from his voice how wired he was." She swallowed, looked at the wisp of smoke drifting out of the fireplace. "But it didn't work out that way." She paused. "I never spoke to him again."

"But even if Salazar or someone who works for him caught Arnie wiring the place," Griffin said, "why would Salazar have a federal officer killed? They had to know it would bring the wrath of G.o.d down on them. How was that worth it?"

"If Mac Brannon had thought Arnie's life was at risk, he'd have never sent him in there. The gang-MS-13-most of them are anything but smart; they're street thugs. One of them might have panicked, or gone into a rage. Or Arnie might have seen something or someone that was too threatening to let him go. We don't know yet."

"So why not pull the trigger? Bust in there, clap the handcuffs on Salazar, interview all the guests and caterers to see if someone saw something?"

"That's what I wanted to do on Sat.u.r.day as soon as I saw that sketch of Arnie," she said. "Mr. Brannon was hot to do it, too, but he got orders to lay back and keep me undercover. We could have arrested Salazar and all the gang members within three counties, but we'd have had nothing firm to hold them on, and you can bet we'd never have found where they stashed the drugs. And since Arnie wasn't killed in Salazar's house, there wouldn't be any trace evidence there, nothing to tie him to Arnie's murder.

"I wanted to tell you everything I knew, but there was too much riding on taking down Salazar entirely. Mr. Brannon told me to lie low and wait. We all know there has to be panic, even chaos, behind that scene Salazar staged for you at his house on Sat.u.r.day. They have to know we'll be there at any minute, and people who are panicked make mistakes.

"Everyone in our local office is out in the field. If Salazar and the gang make the mistake of trying to move the drugs away too soon, the chances are good we'll get them."

"And what's to keep Salazar from getting on a plane back to Madrid?"

"If either Salazar or Dr. Hayman, for that matter, buys a plane ticket or tries to leave the country, we'll know, and we'll arrest him."

"How does Delsey fit in?"

He saw her flinch, saw a flash of guilt in her eyes. "All right, I realized Salazar was interested in her, not his obsessive sort of interest, and I thought it would be smart to get close to her. But listen, that was only at the start. I really came to care for Delsey, and she for me. I didn't want to use her, all I ever wanted to do was protect her.

"When Professor Salazar guilted her into coming to his party, it never occurred to me there'd be any problem, and there shouldn't have been. Who knew Dr. Hayman's margaritas would make her sick and she'd leave early?"