reception area. 'Why the interest in Norvell?'
'I'm told you don't like him.'
'Don't trust him would be a better way to put it.'
'Why is that?' Kerney asked.
'Are you going to tell me why you're investigating Norvell?'
'No,' Kerney said with an apologetic smile.
'Then it's probably best for me to keep my thoughts to myself,' Shuler said. 'I make my living in the political world, Chief Kerney, and while it's public knowledge that I'm not a member of Senator Norvell's fan club, I keep my personal opinions to myself.'
'I'll do the same with what you tell me,' Kerney said. 'You went to college with Norvell. What kind of person was he back then?'
Shuler found his way to his desk chair and settled in. 'Are you familiar with F. Scott Fitzgerald's work?'
'I read The Great Gatsby in college.'
'Norvell was like Gatsby, always full of subterfuges, superficially charming, good at keeping up appearances, but basically unscrupulous. He was quickwitted, ambitious, and smart enough to align himself with people who would help him socially. By the time he entered law school, he'd transformed himself from just another college student who was scraping along into a big man on campus.'
'How did he do that?' Kerney asked, as he pushed an office chair to the front of Shuler's desk and sat.
'He joined the right clubs, hung out with the right people, especially the popular jocks, and got involved in campus politics-member of the student senate, student rep on an activities planning committee. That kind of thing.'
'So, he played the angles,' Kerney said. 'How was he unscrupulous?'
'Drugs, women, and gambling,' Shuler answered. 'While the campus cops and narcs were busting the longhairs and student radicals for using, Norvell and his pals were allegedly selling drugs to frat boys, sorority girls, and students living off campus. He supplied women for bachelor parties, took bets on sporting events, even organized spring vacation gambling jaunts to Denver.'
'You know all this as fact?' Kerney asked.
'I got some information from an anonymous informant while I was editor of the college newspaper, but I couldn't confirm it. I spent a lot of time trying to corroborate the story through other sources. All I got was second- and third-hand rumors and gossip.'
'What stood in your way?'
'I was the longhair liberal running the college newspaper. The enemy, so to speak. Norvell's customers were the kids who saw themselves as the elite. They were well-off, clannish, spoiled brats. Socially, they kept to themselves and partied pretty much out of sight. They'd rent a suite of rooms in a nice hotel, gather at private houses away from the campus, or go out of town for their big bashes.'
'How did the anonymous information come to you?' Kerney asked.
'By letter. Two of them.'
'Did you happen to save them?'
'You bet I did,' Shuler replied. 'I kept hoping someone would come forward and give me something tangible that I could verify and print.'
'Were they typed or handwritten?' Kerney asked.
'Handwritten.'
'I need to see those letters,' Kerney said.
'They prove nothing.'
'I still need to see them.'
Shuler rummaged around in a file cabinet, pulled out a folder, and handed two sheets of paper to Kerney. They were note size, no dates, with writing on one side only. The first letter read: Tyler Norvell is supplying drugs to a young friend of mine and taking advantage of her. He has parties at his house and gets her high on drugs. She tells me that she sometimes wakes up in the morning in bed at his house with a boy or a man she doesn't know, and can't remember what happened. She says there are lots of girls at his parties who have had the same experiences. I think he and his friends are drugging these girls and then raping them. My friend also tells me that Tyler and his friends take some girls to Denver on weekends once a month and the girls come back with expensive gifts. Something very bad is going on. If a student who is supposedly a campus leader is doing these kinds of things, I think it should be made public knowledge.
The second letter read: I wrote you before about the illegal things Tyler Norvell is doing. Now my friend is addicted to cocaine and says that Tyler loves her and wants her to enter a treatment program in Denver, which he will pay for. I think he just wants to get her out of town. She's planning to drop out of school and move to Denver. I've talked to a psychologist and have tried to use his advice to help her, but it hasn't changed her mind about going. Can't you expose this criminal in your paper? All students should know about the terrible things he does.
'When did you receive these letters?' Kerney asked.
Shuler checked his file and read off dates that corresponded with Anna Marie's cousin Belinda Louise Nieto's time in Albuquerque.
'Whoever the person was,' Shuler added, 'I don't know why they didn't go to the police.'
Kerney knew the answer to Shuler's question. There were millions of reasons why people shied away from talking to cops. It didn't matter if they were friends, family, relatives, or total strangers. He'd seen women protect abusers; parents lie on behalf of felonious teenagers; people confirm false alibis for friends; and witnesses deny they'd seen a crime occur. The rationales for either lying to or avoiding the police were endless.
If the author of the letters had been Anna Marie Montoya-and Kerney was virtually convinced that she was-he would never know why she had chosen to deal with her cousin's situation so obliquely. At this point it didn't really matter.
'Who were Norvell's pals in this enterprise?' he asked.
'Luis Rojas, a football jock from El Paso; Adam Tully, a high school buddy from Lincoln County; and Gene Barrett and Leo Silva, both from Albuquerque. Tully was part of the campus brat pack. That's how Norvell and the others got accepted into the clique.'
'Barrett and Silva are state legislators, right?'
'That's right,' Shuler replied.
'I heard they got behind Norvell's political ambitions big-time after he moved back from Colorado.'
'Right again.'
'Any old rumors about them?'
'Just what I've already told you,' Shuler replied. 'They were rarely on campus, except to attend classes. I don't really know how large a role they played in what went on.'
'How do they make their money?'
'Silva has a successful law practice, and Barrett owns a management consulting and CPA firm.'
'What about Cassie Bedlow, Norvell's sister?'
'I never heard anything bad about her. She had her own circle of friends, mostly sorority types and fine-arts majors.'
'And Rojas?'
'A lady's man who cut a wide swath. But not your average dumb jock. Along with Tully, he was Norvell's off- campus roommate. They shared a large house in the North Valley. People thought that maybe some rich alum was subsidizing Rojas. He dressed nice, drove a new car, always had money to spend.'
Kerney held up the handwritten notes. 'I'm going to need to hold on to these for a while.'
'Just as long as I get them back,' Shuler said.
Kerney nodded. 'Of course. You've been very helpful.'
'Maybe I'll read something about this in the newspaper someday,' Shuler said with a slight smile.
'Maybe you will.'
Kerney found George Montoya outside, planting bare-root rosebushes in a flower bed. He wanted to know why Kerney needed a sample of his Anna Marie's handwriting. Trying not to raise false hopes, Kerney explained that he'd been given some letters which might have been written by Anna Marie. But he wouldn't be sure until he could
