“Do you mind if we walk outside?” she asked. “I could use the air.”
I nodded and we walked out through the crowded front lobby and into the cool midday air, sitting down on the steps facing Broadway.
“When did Peter hire you?” she asked, folding her hands in her lap.
“Last week,” I said, realizing it felt more like a month.
“I assume you know what happened to Peter?”
I thought about seeing him in his house and lying next to him in the canyon. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
She took a deep breath and stared at the street. “Peter was a good kid. I mean, he wasn’t a kid, but that’s how I thought of him.”
“You were his aunt?”
She nodded. “His father was my brother. And he wasn’t much of a father.” She paused. “Peter figured it out early on, but I don’t think Linc ever did.”
I didn’t say anything.
“You know that their mother died?” she said.
“Peter told me she had cancer and died two years ago. He mentioned a small trust fund that Linc was living off of.”
Marie nodded. “Her family had a little bit of money and her parents left it to the boys. Nothing to make them rich, but enough for them to be alright.” She leaned forward and rested her forearms on her knees. “Their grandparents just wanted to make sure that their father didn’t get his hands on it.”
A group of Japanese tourists stopped across the street and pointed their cameras at the police building. I couldn’t imagine who told them that it was something to photograph. They smiled at one another and moved on.
“Was your brother still in contact with the boys?” I asked.
“Peter shut him out and he stopped trying,” she said, looking at me. “But he was still talking with Linc when he was killed.”
“Killed?”
“Stabbed in a fight,” she said, her voice void of emotion.
“I’m sorry.”
She smiled. “Don’t be. He probably deserved it.”
The Pluto family just kept getting stranger.
We watched the afternoon traffic move by on Broadway for a few moments, the din of the taxis and cars filling the awkward silence. The fog was finally dissipating and the smell of wet concrete drifted in the air.
“If you would, I’d like you to keep looking for Linc,” she said. “I’ll pay you.”
I nodded, that tiny, self-centered devil on my shoulder applauding. “I’d be happy to keep looking.”
“Thank you.”
It wasn’t just about the money for me, though. Being attacked and shot at had given me my own incentive to find Linc and figure out how it all meshed together.
“Anything you can tell me about Linc that might help?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Not that I can think of. He withdrew from pretty much everyone after his mom died. I kept tabs on him through Peter.” She paused. “He was going to San Diego State, but I’m assuming you already know that.”
I nodded. “I do. I’ve learned a few things, but I’m not sure how they all fit together.”
“Such as?”
“I believe he was selling guns primarily to gang members.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
I told her what I’d found in Linc’s apartment and about the connections with Wizard Matellion and Deacon Moreno.
She stared at me like I’d told her that San Diego was in Arizona. “Good Lord.”
“And I think he had something to do with a hate group, too,” I said. “It looks like he was using his connections to both groups. Selling guns for the skinheads to the gang members.”
“Oh, Linc,” she said, clearly frustrated by her nephew’s actions.
“Can you tell me anything about his involvement with the hate group?”
She was quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Have you ever heard of National Nation?”
“No.”
She shook her head. “My brother, their father, was a member. Very involved. He held some kind of office or something.”
She paused, the anger forming on her face.
“We all were disgusted by it,” she said, her voice rising a little, gathering steam. “And ashamed. And embarrassed. Peter, of course, knew what it was immediately and wanted no part of it.” The lines around her mouth drew tighter. “But Linc didn’t. And then Linc decided he kind of liked it.”
Marie sighed. “As I said, my brother, Anthony, was some sort of leader in it. It took over his life and he died because of it. Went after some black kid and got stabbed.” She shook her head. “I wanted to feel bad about his death, but I couldn’t. The world was a better place.”
“Linc stayed involved?”
“I’m not sure to what extent,” she answered. “But I know he was still doing things for them. I caught him handing out literature with their slogan on it.”
The afternoon sun surfaced in the sky and beat down on my face, my skin tightening against the heat.
“White is right,” I said.
She turned to me, surprised. “Yes. That’s their slogan. So you have heard of them?”
I had.
Twenty-three
I thanked Marie Pluto for her time after we exchanged phone numbers and she wrote me a check to retain my services. I told her I would keep her informed and headed off to find Wellton, my mind buzzing.
Linc had put himself in a horrendously dangerous position. I’d already figured out that he was selling the skinheads’ guns to the gang members. I wondered about the extent of his involvement with National Nation, though. I had a hard time believing that someone devoted to purifying the white race would have any dealings with African-Americans, even if there was money involved. Just like everyone else, bigots had their limits.
And above everything else, what would be worth putting yourself in such a dangerous spot?
I found Wellton in his cramped office. I slid into the chair across from him.
“Anything?” he asked, pushing back from the desk.
“No,” I said. “But I need to come clean with something.”
“Oh, shit,” Wellton said, rolling his eyes. “Here we go.”
“There are guns in Linc Pluto’s apartment,” I said, knowing I couldn’t keep it from him any longer. “I didn’t tell you at first because I didn’t think it was related to Rachel’s shooting.”
“‘Didn’t think’ is the key phrase there,” Wellton said, irritated.
“Whatever. I’m still not sure it’s tied to Rachel. But I think they are tied to Linc’s disappearing act and Peter’s death not to mention the beating I took.”
Wellton gritted his teeth. “Why in the fuck would you not tell me that before?”
“When Peter came to me, he knew Linc was in trouble. He was trying to find his brother and keep him from making a mistake. I was doing as my client asked,” I said. “And like I said, I’m still not sure it’s relevant to the shooting at the apartments.”
“Would’ve been nice to know there was a room full of guns next door to the vic’s apartment,” Wellton grumbled.
“Hey. There could be guns on the other side of that apartment, too. You saw the place.”
Wellton stared at me. “Are the guns still there?”
