John Kaiser clears his throat and turns his gaze on Ozan. “Just what do you think did happen out there, Captain?”
Ozan smirks, emboldened by his successful intimidation of Kaiser earlier tonight. “Well, I’ll tell you, Agent Kaiser. We’ve got one of Mr. Royal’s security personnel lying dead out by Mr. Royal’s driveway, his throat cut. Then we’ve got an elderly African-American gentleman gunned down outside the house. The firemen just dragged two more bodies clear of the wreckage, one of whom has a massive shotgun wound. And then there’s the basement, which appears to contain the remains of three people—one of whom might be Brody Royal. It’s still too hot to get down there to get a positive ID. But however you slice it, that’s a multiple-homicide scene, and Barney Fife here hasn’t got the experience or the budget to properly investigate it.”
Kaiser looks sharply at Sheriff Dennis, hoping to stop him from doing something that could cost him his job. “Captain, under what authority are you taking over Sheriff Dennis’s jurisdiction?”
Ozan barks out an incredulous laugh, then hooks his thumbs in his trousers and turns to give Kaiser his full attention. “I thought we’d straightened this out back at the hospital. Murder’s a state crime, and that’s the end of it. You didn’t argue then, and I don’t expect any lip now.”
To my amazement, Kaiser’s face remains calm. In fact, I see what looks like a trace of anticipatory pleasure in his eyes.
“I’m going to have to take exception with your opinion, Captain,” he says in a tone of mild regret.
Ozan draws back his head, squinting. “Exception to what? You federal boys ain’t got a damn thing to do with murder, unless you’re invited in by local authorities. Even then you’re only there to advise. We say who comes and goes from that crime scene. We handle all the evidence. And we make the arrests. By the way, I’m gonna be detaining both Mayor Cage and his girlfriend for questioning right now. Questioning as suspects.”
“What?” Caitlin cries, her face going red.
Kaiser holds up a restraining hand.
“I’ll use one of the sheriff’s rooms to start,” Ozan continues, “but if necessary, I’ll have them transported to Baton Rouge.”
Everyone in the hallway is watching Kaiser, wondering if he’ll keep playing out the milquetoast role he began at Mercy Hospital. For a moment he purses his lips as though considering Ozan’s argument. Then he steps squarely into the state trooper’s space and speaks with the calm authority of a military officer addressing a subordinate.
“In conventional situations, Captain, you’d be correct. But as Ms. Masters informed you earlier this evening, the murder of Henry Sexton was a hate crime. That gives the FBI automatic jurisdiction over that case. As for Mayor Cage and Ms. Masters, they were victims of a kidnapping and attempted murder tonight. That kidnapping was instigated by Brody Royal and Randall Regan. While they were hostages, Mayor Cage and Ms. Masters heard Royal confess his involvement with the Double Eagle group dating back to 1964. They also witnessed Mr. Royal murder the black man you mentioned, whose name is Marshall Johnston, Junior, nickname ‘Sleepy.’”
While Ozan blinks at the flood of details coming from Kaiser’s mouth, the FBI agent says, “You may not know it yet, but the Double Eagle group has been designated a domestic terror organization under Title Eight of the USA PATRIOT Act. Under the provisions of that act, the FBI has assumed full primacy of authority over any and all investigations pertaining to that group. Tonight’s events fall directly under that umbrella. The Royal house on Lake Concordia is now a federal crime scene. Should you choose to interfere with our investigation, you will find yourself subject to severe disciplinary measures, beginning with immediate incarceration at the facility of my choosing, without due process. Right now, I’m thinking Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.”
Ozan’s face has gone even darker than the sheriff’s did. He’s spitting mad, but Kaiser presses on relentlessly.
“Further, under Title Eight of the Patriot Act, kidnapping in connection with terrorism has been reclassified as a terrorist act. The Bureau will be taking the lead on that investigation as well. It might also interest you to know that under last year’s Intelligence Reform and Terrorism Prevention Act, special anti-methamphetamine initiatives were passed into law, and those will be vigorously pursued in relation to any and all members of the Double Eagle group, their families, and criminal co-conspirators.”
Now Ozan’s face is losing color.
“Title Five of the Patriot Act,” Kaiser continues, “stipulates fifteen-year prison terms for any public official found to have taken a bribe. Any offender’s personal assets can be seized under this act. In that connection, under a Title Five National Security Letter, the Bureau’s New Orleans SAC has already requested that all state police telephone, wireless, personnel, and computer records on both you and Forrest Knox be delivered to me by four P.M. tomorrow.” Kaiser looks purposefully at his wristwatch. “Correction, that’s four P.M. today. While I’m not legally required to inform you of this, I’d like you to pass the information to your boss at the earliest opportunity.” Kaiser let his words hang for a couple of seconds. “Just so we’re all clear on where we stand.”
After gaping dumbly like a punch-drunk boxer, Ozan shuts his mouth and starts working himself up for a fight, but at the last second his judgment gets the better of his hormones, and he confines himself to a low growl. “You ain’t heard the last of this, Jack. This is a states’ rights issue.”