The Castro Diamonds, part 3

(...continued from The Castro Diamonds: Death By Chocolate)

Will was late to the field office the next morning, having spent the prior evening in the barn’s loft space looking through crates of his deceased mother’s old belongings. Never before being terribly interested in the old clothes that smelled faintly of elderly woman, or the bits of furniture and housewares that had accompanied her to The Retirement Village at Greenlawn, he had shoved everything up into the second-floor space to be dealt with later. It was later now, he supposed. Increasingly curious about this burgeoning mystery, and with a stomach mildly turning from anticipation, or possibly too much chocolate cake, Will plodded through packing containers of the aforementioned old lady stuff; two plastic crates of loose pictures awaiting placement in an album; and an old steamer trunk filled with knickknacks and various lifetime debris hidden beneath a musty brown mink stole that made him jump for safety upon opening the vintage kit. The steamer also held a suspicious package wrapped in brown paper. It was this small cardboard box that would occupy Will’s attention over the mostly sleepless night.

When he showed up at the building that housed the FBI’s Monterey Field Office at 10 a.m. the next morning, Davis and Stella were already there waiting, standing at the steps of the entrance. Stella had her arms crossed impatiently and Davis tapped the watch on his arm when they saw Will shuffle into view from the parking lot. Stella rolled her eyes skyward and sighed loudly. She threw her arms to her side, turned, and began up the stairs without even so much as a “Good Morning.”

“What happened to ‘first thing’?” Davis asked Will as his disheveled friend drew close. He noticed Will had the same clothes on from yesterday and shook his head empathetically.

“I found something, D. Last night. In Mom’s old things.” Will held out the now unwrapped cardboard box, which was roughly the size of an average cereal box.

“The junk in the barn? What’s in it?” Davis asked.

“Letters. Some newspaper clippings about bank robberies…” Will was wide-eyed and unblinking, looking at his friend for a reaction. “…and about diamonds!”

“Wha- You’re kidding?”

“Nope.”

“My word! You have to tell Stella. C’mon.” Davis turned and jogged up the stairs after his wife. Will followed.

“She upset that I’m late?”

“Yep.”

“She upset about the cake?”

“Yep.”

“Did you have to sleep on the couch?”

“Nope.”

They reached the top landing and Will stopped. “You told her I ate it all, didn’t you?”

“Yep.” Davis entered the building. Will sighed a little and after a beat, followed him in.

The three sat in a vague and undecorated debriefing room perfectly fitting for a government building. Will had the box on his lap and sat to Stella’s left with Davis in between.

They had been waiting for thirty minutes beyond the point that Will had tried to smooth over his lateness with Stella.

“These folks move at the speed of government anyway,” Will offered with a little chuckle. Stella answered by tightening the corners of her mouth and looking the other way.

While they were waiting, Will presented the box and its contents to his friends. He was understandably excited, as was Davis. Stella studied the letters and newspaper clippings silently and remained very economical with her words to the pair. Still, she was visibly intrigued enough to nearly forget about the cake injustice. Nearly.

“I advise you to let me do the talking,” she said.

“Absolutely,” Will replied with submissiveness.

“Did you make a copy of these?”

“Yes. Last night at…”

“Good.” She cut him off, and they waited in silence.

Not long after, the door opened. Agent Conrad strolled in with another agent.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said as he took a place behind the metal table facing the visitors. Will smiled and eyed Stella.

“This is Agent Mark Kessler. He’s assisting this investigation.” Agent Kessler held out his identification and stood to the side, saying nothing.

Conrad directed his attention to Stella. “And you are?”

“Stella Reedy,” she said.

“My attorney,” offered Will.

“For the time being,” added Stella, sarcastically.

Will looked around Davis at Stella, who did not return his gaze.

“Ah, Ms. Reedy.” Conrad looked at Davis and back at Stella. “Are you two related?”

“Married,” offered Davis.

“For the time being,” added Stella, sarcastically again.

“Ah,” said Conrad, clearly disinterested and looking through a sheaf of papers he had with him. “Well, let’s get to it, shall we?” he said with a two-cent government smile.

Over the next three hours, Will and Davis witnessed a strenuous tennis match of legal jargon and maneuvering between Stella and Conrad as each vied to steer the discussion. Conrad performed inexhaustibly like a man who knew the government, if not the law, was on his side. Stella dodged and parried like an épée fencer, looking for an opening.

At the end of it, the three left the agents and exited the building clearly depleted. The good thing for Will was that Stella hated Conrad enough now to forget that she was mad at him. Lost in thought as they walked down the stairs, she asked “And you’re sure that was everything?”

“Everything,” Will lied.

“Alright, Will,” she said. Bring those copies over to the house today. I want to go through them again.”

“Are you still my lawyer, then?” he asked.

“For the time being,” she replied and walked off in the direction of the parking lot. Davis gave Will a quick thumbs up and followed his wife, leaving him standing alone in front of the building.

Will remained thoughtful for a moment, then pulled a pocket watch out of the front pocket of his jeans. He knew he would have to tell Stella and Davis about it. But not here. Not near the agents. Anyway, it was just an old pocket watch. It didn’t even work anymore. Sure, it was in the box, but it probably belonged to his father or grandfather, and Will did not want to surrender it to the FBI. He might never see it again, and that thought made him a little melancholy. He didn’t know why, but it did.

He re-pocketed the watch and made his own way toward the parking lot, deep in thought.

To Be Continued...