The Big Thaw - Donald Harstad [101]
I leaned back in my chair. “What about Florida, and the call? More detail?”
“I do that one,” said Davies. “Remember,” he cautioned, “we have him on a solid aiding and abetting of a double murder. We don’t want to forget that.”
“By the way,” said Volont, “you do know his real name is Jacob Henry Nieuhauser?”
“Nieuhauser?” asked Davies.
“Gabriel … his full name is Jacob Henry Nieuhauser.”
Davies wrote it down.
Cletus and Gunston entered the kitchen, guided by Lamar, who backed out, locking the door behind him. Our defendant and his attorney sat down at the long, old table. As far from the three of us as they could get.
We got off to a really good start, what with Blitek having been Exhibit A and all. Until Gunston said, “You have no direct evidence that Mr. Blitek was shooting at my client, here. He could well have been attempting to facilitate my client’s escape, instead.”
Weak. Stupid, really. Last try.
“He just told us his assignment was to kill Cletus, here.” Davies grinned across the kitchen table. “That would be your client. Make no mistake.” He looked at his yellow tablet. “If your client can tell us some things about Jacob Henry Nieuhauser,” he said, slowly, “we may have an offer we can put on the table.”
“We’ll entertain an offer,” said Gunston. “Even though my client has done nothing wrong. But, if as you say, he was the target this morning, then you must guarantee him protection.”
“We may make an offer, depending on what your client is willing to share with us,” said Volont. “As for protection, we think he’s safe in this building for now. If we move him at some date, you must understand that you will only be informed after the fact.”
Gunston, still aggressively defending, looked at Volont. “And just who might you be?”
I love it when this happens. Especially with somebody like Volont, who can place a 600 lb. badge on the table.
“Special Agent in Charge Volont, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Counterintelligence Unit.” I don’t know, it just sounded so good. Gunston looked startled. Cletus looked like somebody had reached into his chest and grabbed his heart.
Gunston, who deserved much credit, managed to say, “I didn’t know the FBI had jurisdiction in this kind of case.”
“It’s not the murder that particularly concerns him,” said Davies, also obviously pleased to have Volont at the table. “It’s what you might call collateral matters. Very large collateral matters.”
Cletus didn’t vomit. I was relieved. His face began to redden, though, as he looked at each of us in turn. His gaze kept moving back to Volont, and he finally said, “What do you want from me?”
“We should confer …” was about all Gunston got out.
“No!” Cletus was scared silly, and getting pissed off that his attorney seemed to be dragging his feet at his salvation. “Just promise me protection. That son of a bitch is a professional killer!”
We quickly completed what Davies later said was the “fastest, strangest” deal and information exchange he’d ever done.
Mercifully, it was also vomit-free.
Cletus was given federal protection, and his charge of two counts of Conspiracy to Commit Murder was reduced to Obstruction of Justice, to which he would enter a plea of guilty. Quite a deal, indeed. Until you consider that, if tried in Nation County, he probably would have gotten at least as good a result.
In exchange, he gave us Gabriel on a platter. Well, as far as I was concerned.
Jacob Henry Nieuhauser, whom he had known for several years, had come to him for a place to stay while he scouted “five handy little banks” that he intended to take off. These banks apparently had been part of his original plan back in June of 1996, when events in our county had conspired to thwart him.
What banks? Cletus didn’t know. But the number five had been mentioned.
He’d let Nieuhauser, a.k.a. Gabriel, use his home, while Cletus and his wife were wintering in Florida. Low-profile, no problem. He’d received the phone call, all right. From Gabriel, who had told him that he’d become aware that he was under surveillance by