The Big Thaw - Donald Harstad [77]
I stopped.
Volont didn’t bat an eye, but I swear I could almost hear relays popping in his head.
“Where,” he asked, quietly, “did the call to the Borglans’ Florida home originate?”
“Just a second,” said Lamar. He picked up his phone. “Where’s Mike? No shit? Bring it in, will you?” He looked at Volont. “Tell you in a few seconds,” he said. He addressed me. “Mike got here a few minutes ago, and dropped off our letter …”
There was a knock on the door, and Judy stuck her head in, and held out an envelope. “Mike dropped this off a few minutes ago,” she said. “I didn’t want to bother you …”
Being closest to the door, I reached up and took the envelope from her. It was sealed, but it had the phone company logo on it. “That’s okay, Mike should have said something…”
“Thanks, Judy,” said Lamar. After the door had closed, he said, “Go ahead, Carl.”
I carefully opened the envelope and removed the single sheet of paper. It was Cletus Borglan’s telephone records, as requested by our court order. And there it was.
LONG DISTANCE
1. 1-11 ORLANDO FL 407-555-3344 1047 P.M. 8.5 DDD NGT 2.87
One call. 10:47 P.M. Central time. Make it 11:47 Florida time. Eight and a half minutes. Direct Distance Dial. Nighttime rates applied. Two dollars and eighty-seven cents. That was it. One single call. But that was plenty.
“Just a sec,” I said, reaching for the phone. Sally answered at dispatch. “Sally,” I said, as evenly as I could, “what’s the Florida number that the Borglans left for us … for contacting them if anything was wrong while they were on vacation?”
She sounded a bit stressed. “You need that right away?”
“Faster than that,” I said. I could hear her muttering something to herself as I held my hand over the phone. “Just a second … I think we might have it…”
“Carl, that number is 407-555-3344. Orlando, Florida.”
“Yee hah!” I startled her, but I just couldn’t help myself. “I’ll be damned.”
“You guys must have lots of fun back there,” said Sally. “Need anything else?”
“No, sorry about the yelling, just good news. Thanks!” I put down the phone.
“So?” said Lamar.
“So. So, the telephone company record here,” and I held up the sheet of paper, “tells me that a call was placed from Borglan’s residence here in Nation County … the murder scene … at about ten forty-seven our time … to a number in Orlando, Florida. The same number that the Borglans left with us on their residence check form. And,” I added, “with the time difference, the call would have been received in Florida at about a quarter to midnight.” I looked at Lamar. “Just when your source said it was.” I was grinning all over myself.
“Well, bingo,” said Lamar. “Just like we thought. Looks like our boy’s been holdin’ out on us. He’s gotta know who it was that he talked to …”
“‘Source’?” asked Volont.
I looked at Lamar, and he nodded. “We have a source who was with Cletus Borglan when he received the call from Iowa,” I said. Being as matter-of-fact as I could.
It was time to bring Cletus in. I said I wanted an arrest warrant.
“Let me contact Davies.” For Volont’s benefit, I added, “Iowa Attorney General’s office. He’s got this case.” I spoke toward Lamar. “You can damned well bet Cletus Borglan knows where he is. And that phone bill should be enough to charge Cletus as an accessory in a double homicide. Let’s just see how far his loyalty to these murderers extends.”
“Even so,” said Volont, “there will be arms, and people to use them, around him, too. Perhaps even the killers themselves. You may well need a TAC team, either way. It would be best to wait…”
I smiled. “Nope. I don’t think so. I just have to have a warrant for his arrest…”
You have to know who you’re dealing with. It always comes down to that. I got Davies on the phone, and did just exactly what he told me to do. I sat down, typed a complaint and affidavit against Cletus Borglan, affirming in part that he “received a confirmatory call