At that point, I could have just said no, and let it go at that. Maybe I should have. What I did instead was say, “You think maybe we should stake out the farm where Rudy Cueva was taken before he was killed? And Rudy and Linda’s apartment? Just in case somebody rabbits on the arrest teams, and might come here.”
There was a long pause at the other end of the conversation. “Well, sure. Yes. I mean, that’s a pretty good idea.” He sounded surprised. Not at the suggestion itself, but at the fact that I’d been the one to make it.
“You might also want to touch base with the Johnson County folks” I said. “Hell, if they don’t reassemble here, I’d suspect Odeh’s apartment in Coralville.”
“That’s been arranged,” said Volont testily. “Would you notify Conception County for us?” he asked. “Special watch on Linda’s and Skripkin’s cells, and the jail in general. Just in case.”
“Well, sure,” I said. “How late you think we ought to maintain surveillance?”
“Until eleven tomorrow morning,” said Volont, taking charge again. “Either that, or you can call it off if we contact you before that. Sorry.” I could hear the grin in his voice.
“Got it,” I said. I couldn’t resist. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“Just let me talk to George,” he said. I relinquished the phone and told Hester the gist of what he’d said.
“You’re kidding,” said Hester. “Driving time from Nebraska is what? Eight hours, maybe? The Task Force goes in at eleven or a little later tonight. That’s seven A.M. any suspect can be here, at the earliest. On the off damned chance that they would ever in a million years come back this way.” She smiled and sighed. “Way to go, Houseman.”
“Well,” I said, “they might…oh, charter a plane…”
She laughed. “Around here, that would take longer. Did they happen to say just when they want us to begin? “she asked.
“As soon as possible, so we can be in place and completely hidden before four this afternoon.”
Me and my big mouth.
I had to tell Lamar, of course. He was pretty enthusiastic and thought we should have four or five people at each location.
“That’s gonna be a little difficult,” I said. “Isn’t it?” Lamar had something up his sleeve.
“Tell you what, why don’t you and Hester and George do the farm. Hell, Sally’s a certified reserve. Take her, too.”
“Okay. So, then, who does the apartment?”
“Me,” he said. “I can’t do outside stuff with my Goddamned leg, but I can stay in an apartment or in a car someplace. Just so I don’t get too cold. I’ll take Mike and a reserve and Martha with me.” Martha was a fairly experienced dispatcher, in her early sixties. Lamar was going to be in with the second team.
“Why don’t we split it a different way?” I asked. “Maybe Hester and Sally with you, and…”
“Nope. If these bastards come back, they ain’t gonna go to the apartment. Too many witnesses. I want the most experience out there on that farm.”
That was that.
I knew we wouldn’t be able to have our cars at the old Dodd place. We’d either have to be dropped off or park a long way away and walk in. With the manpower allocations going the way they were, I suspected we’d park somewhere and hump our stuff in. Either way, that meant no heat.
“How cold’s it supposed to get tonight?”
“Oh, I dunno,” said Lamar. “Probably in the twenties, like last night. Hell, you been in colder places than that. Just dress warm.”
This was Lamar’s idea of a good time.
George and Hester weren’t too excited about the idea, but I thought it was because we’d be spending a night in the cold, not the actual assignment. Sally, on the other hand, thought it would be great fun.
“If we set up in the barn,” I said to Hester, “we’ll be out of the wind. Maybe a couple of us in one of the sheds? How about me and George in the biggest shed, and you and Sally in the barn, then.”
“What kinds of night-vision equipment do you have here?” asked George.
“About a dozen flashlights,” I answered. “That’s all that works, anyway.”
We’d mail-ordered a surplus Soviet night scope several years back. It was a first-generation outfit we thought was called a TBC-4, but we weren’t sure of the Cyrillic characters. The department joke maintained that the letters stood for “To Be Charged.” At any rate, it came with one rechargeable battery that had been left in the charger for so many years it had drained to a five-minute “memory,” rendering it useless outside the office. Nobody in the States manufactured a battery that would fit the thing. It had been a bargain, though.
“We can use the time,” said Hester, “to chat about the cases. Sit in the dark and tell scary stories about supervisors, paperwork, and court. How about we all meet back here in half an hour. If I’m going to this slumber party, I want to get my warmest stuff.”
That was an excellent idea.
We left singly, spaced a few minutes apart, so we wouldn’t tip off the media.
I hit the house like a herd of buffalo. I kissed Sue as I passed her on the way up the stairs.
“What’s going on? I thought the case was over.”
“It is,” I said from the top of the stairs “This is a wrap-up stakeout. We gotta be out all night, but all the action is way far away.”
I heard Sue coming up the steps as I fished out my thermal underwear and thermal socks.
“You must be going to be outside,” she said.
“Well, part of the time. And if somebody tries to get away, it’ll be a good idea to be wearing warm clothes.” I sat down on the bed to put my socks on over the thermal long johns.
“I thought nothing was supposed to happen,” she said, pulling my Gore-Tex boots out of the closet.
“You always gotta be ready,” I said as she handed me the boots. “Thanks.”
“Sure. You need anything else?”
“Well, if I can remember where I put that big thermos, I’d like to fill it with hot soup. Just a couple of cans of minestrone will do. Could you put,” I said, lacing the boots, “maybe a couple of cans in the mike? Make sure they boil, and I’ll look for the thermos when I get downstairs…”
As she left, I slipped my thermal knit undershirt on over my head, then a short-sleeved sweatshirt, and my green woolly-pully sweater. Perfect. I clipped my gun and holster to my right hip and put two extra magazines in my back pocket. Handcuffs in the other back pocket. Badge case and ID in the left front. Always on that side, since if you stuck your gun in somebody’s face, you really didn’t want to have to put the thing down to get your badge out of the right-hand pocket. My Canadian Army parka was in the trunk of my car, equipped with Gore-Tex gloves, a woolen muffler, and a stocking cap. My rifle, an AR-15, was there, too, along with three extra magazines. Now for the important stuff…I headed downstairs to the kitchen.
I thought I remembered where I put the big thermos. I bent down to open the lower cupboard door.
“What are you looking for?” said Sue, over the hum of the microwave.
“The thermos…”
“I’ve got it right here,” she said. She was washing it out at the sink.
“Oh. Okay. Good. We got any crackers?”
We did. A whole box. A new pack of string cheese, a small bag of pretzels, and six half-liter bottles of water, and I was ready to go.
I gave Sue a kiss. “See you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She took a step back and looked me up and down. “Carl goes to camp,” she said.
“Well, yeah. Sort of.”
She handed me the thermos of soup. “Stay warm,” she said, and kissed me again.
I opened the overhead garage door, to have enough room to stash my stuff in the trunk, and almost stepped on KNUG’s very own Judy Mercer.
“Going somewhere?”
“Well, yes, actually.” Damn. We’d promised to tell her when things started to go, and here she was.
“Mind if we,” she said, indicating her cameraman, who was stepping around the back of their four-wheel- drive with his camera at his shoulder, “tag along?”
“Actually, yes,” I said. “Kill the camera.”
