Bullington said, “So what’s the drill?”
Ms. Webb replied, “He’ll be indicted for capital murder along with the rest of the gang. That indictment will be set aside while we see how hard he’s willing to work. If he delivers, he’ll eventually plead to first degree and we’ll lobby hard for a light sentence. If he does something stupid like run away or blow his cover, we lower the boom and he goes away for life.”
“That’s what I thought. Mr. Westbay?”
Clyde gently threw up his hands in defeat and offered a goofy laugh. “Do I really have a choice?”
34
It had never been clear, at least not to Clyde, whether Vonn Dubose was a real name or an alias. Clyde was not one of the five “Cousins,” the nickname of the gang’s ruling membership. None of the other four used the surname Dubose. Vonn’s younger brother had been shot and killed in a bad drug deal in Coral Gables in 1990, and his name was Nash Kinney. According to the FBI’s research, Nash Kinney had been born in Louisiana in 1951 and had no brothers.
Clyde admitted that most of what he had learned about the gang’s history had come along in snippets and was unreliable. The boys didn’t sit around the poker table and talk about the glory days. He’d actually spent very little time with the Cousins. He wasn’t even sure they were related by blood. Clyde had been on the payroll for two years before he met all five.
Vonn Dubose had no address, driver’s license, Social Security number, taxpayer ID number, passport, bank accounts, or credit cards. This had been verified by the FBI, which had developed the theory the name was an alias that had been created and carefully protected over the years. There was no record of an income tax return ever being filed by such a person. According to Greg Myers, Dubose had been married and divorced more than once. However, the FBI had found no evidence of marriage licenses or divorce decrees.
Henry Skoley was the first Cousin they needed to figure out. He went by Hank and was supposed to be Vonn’s nephew, the son of the brother who was shot and killed. But if there was no brother, then who the hell was Hank? The story was already breaking down.
Hank was about forty years old and worked as Vonn’s driver, bodyguard, golfing companion, drinking buddy, you name it. Everything Vonn wanted or needed was in Hank’s name. If Vonn wanted a new car, Hank was sent to buy one in his name. If Vonn wanted to go to Vegas for a weekend of fun, Hank arranged the airplane, the limo, the hotel rooms, the hookers, and of course went along to sweat the details. Most important, Hank passed along Vonn’s commands to the others. Vonn did not use phones or e-mails, not for his dirty work anyway.
Clyde handed over both of his cell phones, gave the pass codes, and watched as two agents began downloading his data. There were two numbers for Hank Skoley, but the FBI already knew this.
Clyde did not know where Vonn lived at the present time. He moved around a lot, spending a few months here and there in new condos he’d built along the Florida Panhandle. Nor did he know if Dubose lived alone.