The Big Thaw - Donald Harstad [84]
Cletus had other ideas. “Just stay with me, here, will ya, Ray? I gotta explain here. I gotta.”
“Be careful,” said Blitek. “Think about what you say. I can’t caution you strongly enough … be careful.”
An attorney who got $25.00 an hour probably would have said it wasn’t worth it. Ray Gunston, who was closer to $2,500.00 an hour, let the clock run.
Cletus did the only thing he could, as far as trying to exculpate himself. He told us that he’d been snookered in, was afraid of Gabriel, and didn’t know how to get out of the matter. He also explained something that had been making me wonder ever since we did the crime scene.
“He wanted to use the computers in the house while we were gone,” he said. “He calls it ‘distributed computation,’ or something.”
“‘Distributed computing,’” I said. “Sure. Put a bunch of little computers on big problem. Use their time, then put it together at the end.”
“Yeah. Tied in with a bunch of other equipment. All over the country.”
“For what?” I was curious.
“You’ll see,” he said. Right. I got the solid impression that he didn’t know, either. I stopped with that line right there. Distributed computing was all we’d need to know to get some smarter cops on it. But I really wanted to get hold of those computers.
Cletus said that he just thought that Gabriel would use the house while they were gone. Then be out of there before they got back. No problems. No troubles. No complications except a bit of an electric bill.
Mostly true, I thought. Easy to make up, hard to disprove. He was only telling us what was supposedly in his own mind. No way to prove it either way. Then he interjected something into the rather standard tale of woe that led me to believe him.
“I thought they had to be cops, too. Feds. I thought he was right. I thought you were all lying to cover up the Feds.”
Let me tell you just how glad I was that Volont wasn’t in the room.
“Gabe’s well known, and wanted around here,” I said. “He’s been involved in other killings, you know.”
“He’s a hero around here,” said Cletus.
“You wouldn’t think so if you’d been there, Cletus,” I said.
Davies had let me converse with Cletus for long enough. “So, Cletus,” he said, “where is he?”
Cletus just looked at him with a firmly closed mouth.
“Ray, here, will tell you that what I’m about to say is the truth. Your only chance is to cooperate. Saying you’re sorry ain’t gonna cut it. Neither is ‘I was afraid of this man’ when you so clearly cooperated with him.”
“You offering a deal?” asked Gunston.
“I’m offering a chance,” said Davies.
“My client will never cross the BAR,” said Blitek.
“Pardon me,” said Davies, “but what is that supposed to mean?”
“Common law applies on the lands, lakes, and the rivers. The law of the sea only applies on seawater. Salt and fresh water cannot be mixed, because God did not make salt water potable. This is the basic contradiction between the law of the land and the law of the sea. Cletus G. Borglan is a citizen under maritime law, and the laws of the land are not his. Where salt and fresh water meet is the BAR, and we will not cross it.” Blitek paused for breath.
“What’s your position on piss?” asked Davies.
Blitek opened his mouth, but Gunston put a hand on his shoulder. “Not now.” Simple, nearly sotto voice, but it shut Blitek up as if you’d closed switch. Interesting. Obviously didn’t have much time for the man, but was in complete control of him.
I’d also noticed that, all during the time Cletus had been talking about Gabriel, Gunston hadn’t batted an eye. I made a note. I really didn’t want to forget that.
Gunston asked to talk with Cletus in private, so we took them to a little jail conference room, with a tough plastic window, and shut the door. I didn’t lock it, although I was authorized to do so. I didn’t feel they’d pose much of an escape risk. Blitek stood outside, looking forlorn.
I showed my note to Davies. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.” He then gave me an elbow in the ribs. “Good job,” he said, just like W. C. Fields. “Made