2019-10-04 - Clandestine Meetings

It's just starting to get evening in Gray Harbor, which combined with the drizzle, has sent most of the people who might otherwise be enjoying the early autumn weather home for the evening. Which might be why Alexander texted this particular time of the day. And the place as well: it's a covered picnic table near the pond, on the far side close to the looming shadows of the forest. He's there, sitting at one side of the picnic table, his back to the forest and his eyes scanning the park with a twitchy sort of hypervigilance. He's thinner than he should be; he has that look of someone who has lost too much weight too quickly, likely from the flu he said he had, and which has waylaid a lot of the population.

His dress is casual almost to the point of insulting - a simple sweat suit with an Addington High logo emblazoned on the front - it's damp through, and there's no sign the man has carried an umbrella. Or has a car, since there's none in the lot except what the cops bring.

What the cops bring in seems to be, at least for Charlie, her personal vehicle. Which is an early 2000s model Nissan Sentra, looking a little busted and worn down. But it's still driving, which is what matters in the end. When she climbs out of the car she tucks her keys into the pocket of her jeans, then tucks her hands into the pocket of her dark members only jacket to scan the area. When she spots Alexander at the picnic table she starts to make her way in that direction, not waving, or in any other way calling attention to things.

Alexander recognizes the woman - he spends far too much time hanging around cops (whether they want him to or not) to not recognize one of the detectives on the force. He doesn't stand up or wave back to her, though, just watches her with a fixed intensity until she gets within conversational range. "Detective Morgan." His voice is still a little rough, a pleasant and soft baritone made scratchy and a touch hoarse by the recent illness. "I hope you're well. No death plague, yet?" A glance behind her, as if expecting someone to be with her. Rather than ask, he just raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

"He'll be here soon, but when I left he was on the phone with a very talkative 'witness'." The way she says that last word, well. He's probably been talked about in much the same way before by others. "So I thought I'd make the meeting on time, so you didn't think we were ignoring you." She settles at the table across from him, shaking her head, "No death plague yet, at least. You're feeling better?"

Alexander laughs, low and brief and rusty. "You never know what a 'witness' might bring to you, Detective. But hopefully he'll be able to come by soon, because," he gives a pleased smile, "I have something of interest for you." A blink of surprise at the inquiry, but he nods. A bit cautious. "Yes. I don't think I'm contagious anymore, at the least. Fever broke, appetite returned, steadily feeling stronger. It's a bit of a mixed blessing. But still." He pulls out his phone. "Let me share."

He unlocks the phone, then sends her several images - They look like photos of notes written down on yellow legal paper. Most of it is impossible to read although the handwriting matches that of Karl Kruger after his stroke, when his writing became almost illegible, but a few things are legible: mainly, that he had a date for him and Pam to meet with a few lawyers downtown the day AFTER he was shot. A cursory Google search will allow Alexander to deduce that the lawyers Pam & Karl intended to meet were corporate lawyers, one of which was an environmental lawyer.

"Environmental?" Charlie looks up at that bit of information, "You think this is actually connected to the fish? I figured that was some sort of threat, or backwards way of saying that Felix didn't do anything, and the fish was...more guilty." Something seems to click, even if it might be clicking into the wrong place, so far. "So, maybe a fish was responsible." She saves the pictures, then sends them to her work email for later. "That's really good...Do I want to know where you found these notes?"

"Elise Kruger," Alexander says. "Although I'd thank you to keep that quiet, Detective. But I might be able to get her to look for something more specific in her parents' records if we have a more specific sort of lead." He leans forward to prop his elbow on the table and his chin on his fist. "If she's not scared off." Eyebrows rise. "But yeah. I think this has to do with the fish. The cutthroat trout is apparently a kind of fish that starts out in freshwater, then goes to seawater - or, in this case, goes back and forth. Sort of like salmon. There's some legal controversy about its classification as endangered, but honestly, you'd need more than Google to make sense of that. I'm looking into local development projects, but I can't imagine these lawyers would give me the time of day." A wave towards her. "Badges are useful."

"Badges are useful, yeah." Charlie drums her fingers on the picnic table, "I'll reach out, see if they are aware of anything that is going on, and I won't mention to anyone that she gave you these notes. Wouldn't want someone popping up and demanding more information from her, only to lock her down entirely. Her lawyer had her buttoned up pretty tight..." She stops the finger drumming after a moment, "Thank you, Clayton. This has been...huge, actually."

Alexander smiles, looking rather ridiculously pleased at the thanks. "Glad you think it's useful, Detective," he says, looking away and clearing his throat. He stares out at the rain for a long moment. "It makes it less likely that Monaghan had anything to do with this, though. He had too tight of a hold on the Krugers to fear them blocking any sort of development project that he might be involved in. I'm checking to see if they might have been involved in any local environmental groups, conservation actions, or the like. It might..." he frowns. "Are you familiar with Ms. Robbins? The Historical Society chair? It might be worth seeing if anyone's been trying to access coastal maps of spawning grounds, or - she might even be aware of recent permits filed for development. Maybe." He shrugs.

"Afraid that I don't know Ms. Robbins, not off the top of my head, at least. I might recognize her if I saw her, though." Bane of a big-small town, right? Charlie leans forward, resting her forearms on the table, hands folding together around her phone, "She might be, but it's easier to track permits in the departments they'll get filed in, which I'll also check into. But talking to her wouldn't be a bad idea, either. I'll do that..." Which, as a reminder, Charlie unlocks her phone again to make notes of everything. "No, I'm becoming increasingly aware that Monaghan is unlikely to be involved...it doesn't make sense, and in fact, it seems too careless for him."

"You probably would," Alexander says, a bit dry, "she was investigated in the death of her husband not so long ago." He leans forward and confides in a stage whisper, "I don't think she likes cops, after that." Then he smiles, a brief and ghostly thing, as he sits back again. "Of course, that just means that there's someone else out there who is ruthless enough to execute two old people in their place of business and cover their tracks decently well." He tilts his head to one side. "I don't suppose you brought the package?"

"I did." Charlie replies, reaching into the inner pocket of her jacket, pulling out the folded envelope where it's been tucked into a plastic evidence bag, sliding it towards him, "There are probably plenty of ruthless people in this world willing to do that...which is a frightening and sad thought." She tucks her phone into her pocket, now that she's no longer using it. "I'm sure reaching out to her as a cop'll thrill her."

"Certainly. But around here, most of them work for Monaghan. Two tigers don't exist well on the same hill," Alexander points out with a grimace. "Has anyone other than the lawyer tried to shut you down?" Witnesses don't count, of course - from the way he's watching her, he's talking about pressure from above in the hierarchy. He does hold a hand out for the evidence bag and takes it when she slides it to him. They're sitting in the drizzling rain, at twilight, at a covered picnic table near the woods. It's very spy chic.

"No one." Charlie shakes her head at the question, "In fact, so far everyone is pushing to get this solved from higher up...So." So, indeed. It seems like she's not clueless to the idea that Monaghan has people in the department, and what it might mean that no one is trying to stonewall the case from inside.

"We couldn't have those this any place inside?" Gabriel is asking as he is putting his phone in his pocket, making his way over to the interview with Alexander. But he arches an eyebrow at Charlie and the other man, not chiming in just yet. Instead he just introduces himself: "Detective Quintanilla."

"So." Alexander says, a sense of dry agreement with Charlie's acknowledgement of intradepartmental dynamics. "That does provide a resource, though." There's a pause, and he admits, "Someone already made clear their intent to tell Monaghan I was looking into the matter. No one's," a pause, "followed up on that, yet." Tried to kill him or beat the crap out of him, he means. "So." Again.

His attention shifts to Gabriel as the other man approaches, staring at him without blinking. "Sorry. My fault, Detective. I'm not really supposed to be around people at the moment, this is quiet. Not many people. Hope you're well?" A pause. "Alexander Clayton."

"Right...if he was trying to steer people away.." There are just some things that don't need to be said, this being one of them. Alexander knows. Gabe probably can put the pieces together. Charlie has. She glances up towards the other detective, then tilts her head towards the bench next to her, "Relax, stay awhile. We're just discussing how sloppy this would be for Monaghan to have done. Or stupid. Which he's not."

Gabe moves to take a seat on the other side of Alexander, to subtly place him between the two detectives. One of the easiest cop tricks in the box. "Yeah. That's what I am thinking. He is a pro. And this was a pro hit. Why sic a pro on two people who are up on payments?" He shakes his head. "But what does our friend know?"

Alexander isn't unaware of the trick. His lips twitch upwards, but he doesn't actually comment on it. Instead, he rubs at his face with one hand and says, "It looks like the Krugers might have had a meeting with corporate lawyers, including an environmental lawyer, or an appointment for that meeting, on the day after they were murdered. The package that Detective Morgan received referred to the Coastal Cutthroat Trout, a particular sort of fish whose territory spans across both fresh and sea water. My suspicion is that this might have something with land development." A glance towards Charlie.

"Which is a lead we're going to follow up on, from an anonymous source." There is a stress on that, making sure that Gabe is aware that when Charlie files this she's not listing who tipped them off. "So, we'll go poke at those shadows, see if anything happens to fall out of them."

"Do we know who this lawyer is?" It, in a way, makes sense. "So they are looking to sell the motel or maybe expand. They need environmental permits to make that happen, but there is some trout in the way or something? And then --" Gabe isn't sure about the 'and then.' But he has some feeling that this might be a narrative that makes sense.

"Detective Morgan has photos of the Krugers' notes," Alexander says, with a shrug. "If you can read them, more power to you. But there can't be that many corporate lawyers in Gray Harbor, so even if the name is hard to make out, it shouldn't be that hard to narrow it down." He shakes his head, though, at Gabriel's theory. "I don't...think so. They don't seem like the aggressive type. I could be wrong, though. If they've filed for any permits, that should be on record." He looks down at the grain. "I'd also suggest checking to see if anyone has been making noises about purchasing the hotel, or any other land they may own. They may have been looking for the lawyers to protect their land from development, as much as to develop it themselves."

"From what I gathered from the daughter, the parents were pretty happy owning the motel. So I can't imagine they were looking to sell it, and in fact might have been looking for ways to keep it from development. I'd also check to see if anyone was filing eminent domain, maybe they were being forced out by the state."

"Yeah. I was about to say, if they didn't want to sell it, they didn't need to sell it. But then again, maybe if they didn't want to sell it --" Gabe's voice trails off again, as he works to put together the pieces. "Maybe someone had hoped that the daughter who inherits would be more willing to part with the motel."

Alexander makes a surprised grunt. "That...is a very good point, Detective," he says, with a nod towards Gabriel. "Which means that Miss Kruger could be under some threat." A pause. "Theoretically, at least. That could be interesting." He rubs at his jaw. "Assuming that the murderers aren't aware of certain local realities, anyway. But...I'm still leaning towards a possibility that the murderer knew well the Krugers' connection to Monaghan, and this is, or may be, something of a probe."

"Might as well keep our eyes open, options on the table." Charlie agrees, although she is watching Gabe thoughtfully for a moment, "We can put someone on the daughter, but I feel she might be safe enough. But..." She tucks that thought away to be dealt with later.

Gabriel nods his head in agreement. "Perhaps," he says, to Alexander. "Perhaps. As you say. All theories on the table. Some of which might become more or less likely when some other leads pan out." A pause. "Or don't." He purses his lips together, turning this all around in his head.

Alexander makes a considering noise, but matters of police protection aren't really any of his concern. And for once in his life, he doesn't venture in to offer an opinion on it, anyway. He studies each of the detectives in turn. "So, that's what I have so far, and the sense that I can make of it. Is there anything else I can do for you? Anything you'd like me to look into, or questions I might be able to address?" It's not sardonic, although it's clear that he expects the offer to be turned down.

"Talk to Ms. Robbins, if you can." Charlie decides after a moment, "If she's as jumpy around us as you say, she might be more willing to open up to you." She starts to get to her feet, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jacket, "But that's it, honestly. Thank you for your help."

"Yeah. Thanks. It's a help. At least explains some of what might be going on here." Gabriel also pushes to his feet, relieving Alexander from the two cops impinging on him. Even if this is a friendly interview. "We'll be in touch if anything else comes up."

Alexander's eyebrows go up. "You want...me? To speak to Clarissa Robbins?" A blink. "All right. I don't know if she'll talk to me. I'm not exactly...reputable. But I'll give it a shot. It may be a few days, though. I have some things I need to attend to. But," a brief smile at them both, "you're quite welcome. You have my number." He also stands, carefully, and steps back and away from them as if he's worried someone might pounce on him. "Uh. Have a nice day. I guess." Then he turns and starts trudging away through the drizzle, heading for the woods rather than the parking lot.

"We'll see if he turns up anything else.." Charlie informs Gabe after Alexander has headed off, then she shakes her head, "Anyways, I've got to go before the babysitter starts charging me double. I'll write this all up tomorrow, yeah?"