Clint Faraday Collection C: Murder in Motion Collector's Edition (17 page)

“
There’s
reason to go around with this one, I’d say. I want to find who’s
the killer in the bunch. I’ll probably arrange for them to go home
just before I get the information for a deal with the FBI with him
to take his brother down to protect certain people. He’ll have to
squeal on whoever’s his hit here to get the deal.”

“
Oh.
He’ll put all his crooked shit on Arno. That happens among the
type. He would know they can put him away for life for his
pedophilia so will make any deal he can.

“
Arno
wouldn’t turn on his brother for any reason. Gino will turn on him
or anyone else in a flash and they all know it.”

“
So they
have to prevent that. Gino was blackmailing them so they have
reason.”

“
You can
make it work.”

They talked about new information. There was
damned little of it.

Clint went into town to talk with Sergio,
then found Franconi and chatted with him. He said his boss was
about to go down very hard so get whatever’s owed right away.
Franconi thanked him and laughed.

“
I don’t
know what it’s about, but my boss, who you found out is not Arno,
is a pervert if I ever saw one. He got caught with the wrong person
in a perverted situation, as they say?”

“
Uh-huh.
That bunch out there found him in the wrong place at the wrong time
with the wrong person. People, considering all of them.”

“
Now I
have to wonder if he’ll turn on me.”

“
A risk
of the business.”

He nodded. They talked a few more minutes,
then Clint went home, got his boat and headed for Bastimentos. He
was just in time to find Catherine and Lucerne in one of the
gazebos. They were below eye level and he didn’t see them until he
was passing four feet away. They didn’t see him.

He started thinking about things. Some things
began to click. At the house Dickerson was watching wrestling on
the TV. He said he didn’t know where any of the others were. This
time of day his wife was locked in her room for her beauty nap,
Lucerne went fishing, probably Frieda was with him.

“
I mainly
dropped in to tell you to stop telling people we’re friends. You’re
just someone I’m investigating – and to tell you your meal ticket’s
about to expire. Gino’s ass is in a crack and the only way to save
it will probably be to claim the bunch of you were blackmailing him
and that he paid one of you to start knocking off the others. You
should all check your proof because Danny lost his and died, then
Julia let the wrong person know how to find her proof and she
died.

“
Gino’s
gonna tell us who to save his own hide. It will take a week or so
to wear him down, then at least one of you goes down the hard
way.

“
We don’t
want you here. I’ll try to arrange for you to get out in a way that
lets the police off the hook for letting you escape. It’ll have to
be very damned fast so let me know within the hour if you’re
willing to take the chance.”

He said he’d take any chance he could find to
get out of Panamá. He didn’t doubt that Gino would crack. He was a
total wimp!

Clint went back home. It was now up to them.
Dickerson would call him as soon as they were ready to leave. If
anyone wanted to stay he didn’t have any say in that. He and
Catherine would get out as fast as they could!

The phone buzzed half an hour after Clint got
home. Dickerson said they were ready to leave. It wouldn’t take
them ten minutes to get their stuff because they had it packed
since the first time they wanted to get out.

“
Go load
the stuff on your boat. I’ll have the cop there instructed to let
you go because you’re going to Bocas and the police boat’ll watch
your every least move. The police boat’s gonna receive a sudden
emergency message to help locate a drug runner and will go toward
Zapatillias. Go north to Costa Rica, pay someone fifty bucks to
stamp your passports, then go to the states or wherever. You
shouldn’t have any trouble disappearing for a month or so there.
It’ll be over by then. Nobody’s going to try to catch a child
molester’s blackmailers too hard. They’ll say he deserved it and
worse and be glad he’s caught and is going to be put away for
life.

“
He’ll
throw you to the dogs in a blink. They won’t act on that. It’s the
only way to make a deal for fifteen to twenty instead of life
without. He’ll try to throw his brother to them too. The one part
of this deal you have to make with me is that you’ll tell the
truth. Arno had nothing to do with it.”

They agreed to that in a flash. Clint said to
wait five minutes, then get to the dock and get on that boat as
fast as they can. He’ll give them a call the second the police
boat’s been dispatched to the Zapatillas.

“
One of
you is going to have to be able to disappear completely. He’s going
to have to give whichever one of you who’s acting as a hired killer
here up. That’s the only deal they’ll make to give him anything to
hang onto.

“
That’s
fine with me! They’re going to start the pressure right away and
figure he’ll crack in a week or less. I want you out of here. You
fend for yourself after you’re in international waters.”

He waited four minutes then told them to go.
It would take the police boat six minutes to get to the Zapatillas
and about six to get back when they found the drug runner had been
caught just as they arrived. That made just twelve minutes for them
to get out of sight toward the north. They should have enough of a
head start to be in Costa Rican waters before the police boat could
intercept them. Then they were on their own.

He waited. Sergio called to say he didn’t
believe that bunch could move so damned fast. They were running
like their asses were on fire. Clint said he would come to town
later to get the reports on where they went. Their boat had a
transponder on it that gave the GPS readings on it every ten
minutes. They went to northern Costa Rica, stayed less than an
hour, then went on to Yucatan and then to Galveston. Manny had them
watched. Dickerson went directly to Ohio, Lucerne went to
Louisiana, Herman went to Colorado. Catherine went to LA. Just what
Clint thought she’d do.

“
See,
everybody else had air-tights for Bianco’s murder. Hers was
Dickerson, his was her. He sleeps like a log, as they say where he
came from. He drinks six or eight beers, then sacks out. He’s
really out!

“
She’s
screwing anybody with the time and energy, I’d say. She’s very used
to sneaking away at night, but she was doing it during the day,
too. She was locked in her room for her beauty nap so far as
Dickerson knew, but was in that gazebo with Lucerne. You can bet it
was a long number from the first time.”

“
That
one, you pegged,” Manny agreed. “She’s a type. You find three of
her in every redneck bar in the world! Anyhow, let’s see what
transpires.”

They talked for a few more minutes, then
Clint decided he could use a beauty nap. Trouble was, he couldn’t
sleep during the day anytime.

So he went fishing.

Finally Home

“
Hi! I’m
finally home!” Judi greeted. “Did you learn anything in
California?”

“
I
learned that Arno Napoli had nothing to do with it past financing
the moving of those scum on Bastimentos. I didn’t figure who killed
them until I was back.”

“
It was
that Frank character, right?”

“
No.
Catherine.”

“
Really?”

“
Dead
certain.”

“
You let
them go? Sergio said you and he made a plan to get them out of here
for good. Panamá doesn’t need the headaches and expense of
prosecuting them.”

“
Uh-huh.
It’s better to have them back in the states with their redneck
friends than here in jail.”

“
I’m
beginning to see your point about that with some of these ...
people who come here.”

“
It’s
about being pragmatic.”

“
I guess.
Want to come to the Nine Degrees for dinner? I don’t want to cook
tonight. I’m tired.

“
Oh! Serg
said to tell you Franconi left within minutes of that bunch sailing
into the sun ... rise. We’re east.”

“
I
figured he would. Let’s go get some of Rick’s cooking!”

“
...
reported that he was the brother of the very esteemed personage in
Fallendale, Arno Napoli. The police report says it appeared to be
an attempted robbery that went wrong. He was stabbed seven
times.

“
Services
will be held at the Fallendale Mother of Mercy Hospital chapel
tomorrow. It is to be a closed private ceremony as Mr. Arno Napoli
states that the circumstances and the wishes of the family are for
such arrangements. In other news, there were two more
drive-by....”

Clint turned off the cable TV tuned to LA
CBS, shook his head and wondered. Did Franconi get him and make it
look like the MO of Catherine? Did Catherine get him? Did Manny
have it done?

He might never know the real story. He wasn’t
sure he wanted to. Now, today. Fishing?

No. Maybe to Tierra Oscura where Dave was
doing his research. He liked that.

Or ..........

Clint Faraday Mysteries #13

The Body In the Bay

© 2011 by C. D. Moulton

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances
to persons, living or dead, or events is purely incidental unless
otherwise indicated.

A woman’s body is found in the bay near
Tierra Oscura. The first theory is that she drowned when she got
tangled in the mangrove roots while snorkeling.

Why would anyone be in that bay snorkeling –
plus the fact that no one could get tangled in those roots at that
spot.

Who were the men with her when she went
out?

Contents

A Body

Small Clues

Follow That Cab!

Veraguas

Treasure
Located

Identifying the
Treasure

Sheik Schmuck

Too Far!

Very Small Deal

So! That’s What It’s
About!

Not Our
Problem

The Body In the Bay

A
Body

Clint Faraday, retired PI from Florida,
brought his boat into his bay deck. He and Judi Lum, the attractive
Taiwanese nextdoor neighbor, climbed out and tied the boat. Clint
handed her the gear and smaller items, then he put the chest of
fish on the deck, followed by the other paraphernalia they took on
their fishing jaunts.

“
It was
nice all day today,” Judi said. “We got enough for both our
freezers and a few for Ben. It was too bad he couldn’t
come.”

Ben was Ben Longstreet, a neighbor. He was
gay, which was a big “So what?” in Bocas del Toro, Panamá.

Silvio Lopez, an Indio friend, came by in his
cayuca and greeted them, “Coin dere!” They returned the greeting.
Both of them spoke some of the Ngobe Bugle language (Ngoberé).
Clint was becoming fluent. Most of his closer friends were
Indios.

Judi brought a deep pan from the kitchen and
sorted the fish. She left two large ones in the chest and told
Clint she’d borrowed the chest from Ben so he could carry it back
with the fish.

Clint grinned and helped her take her gear
and fish home, then returned and cleaned the fish. He put Ben’s in
the ice and carried the chest to Ben’s house. Earl, Ben’s newest
love, took the fish inside and said Ben would be home from work in
half an hour. He’d cook up one of the fish for dinner. He was a
gourmet chef so the meal would be between great and fantastic.

“
They’re
big so I’ll expect you and Jude around six thirty. No excuses. I
have a good almondine sauce I make, old-fashioned hush-puppies,
garden salad and mustard greens from Volcan. We were in Cerro Punta
last week and I brought a lot of them back. They’re a weed up there
and nobody eats them. I cooked up enough for a month or two and
froze them for your freezer. I know you like them as much as we do.
There’s nothing better with fish.”

Clint said he’d be there. He called Judi and
she said that would be perfect. She was planning to cook some fish
herself, but she couldn’t hope to compete with Earl in the cooking
area.

Clint went back home to check out his comp
and calls, answered a few e-mails and deleted twenty some-odd spam
messages, then cleaned up and laid around until a few minutes after
six. He took a bottle of good Chianti, called Judi to say, “Let’s
go!” and went to meet her at his gate and to walk the two blocks
(if they’d had blocks there) to Ben’s. They spent a pleasant
evening there and went home at about eleven. Judi decided to go to
a friend’s house, but Clint was tired. He sacked out.

In the morning Clint went into town and
talked with the regulars at the Golden Grill, then to the market
for a few things, then back to his house. He got a call from a
friend at Punta Robalo and took his boat around to his place, about
an hour and a half by boat. They solved the problem, a non-issue
type of thing about who owned what. The Indios have no ownership in
that sense in their culture. It was a simple misunderstanding that
could have grown into something more, but probably wouldn’t
have.