Daiquiri Dock Murder (20 page)

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Authors: Dorothy Francis

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BOOK: Daiquiri Dock Murder
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“So I’m asking both of you on bended knee—but remember. I own the trap set.” He knelt to emphasize his words. “May I play with the combo tonight?”

“Si. Si.” Mama G looked at me. “He be welcome, right?”

“Of course Mama G and I want you to play, Pablo. Will your presence be a steady thing from now on?”

Pablo hesitated only a moment before he nodded. “Yes. From now on a steady thing. Count on me. You can tell Dolly you won’t need her on drums any time soon. Right now I plan to check over my trap set—see what she may have done to it.”

“Dolly Jass take good care of drums,” Mama G said. “No need you worry about that. She be a careful person.”

Ignoring Mama G’s words, Pablo took a step toward his trap set as he patted his shirt pocket. “Need to see if the drum heads are in good condition. I’ve brought my tuning key in case the heads need to be tightened.”

“Good idea,” I said. “I don’t know much about drum heads, but let me know if you think I can help.”

“Thanks, Rafa.”

As Pablo stepped onto the bandstand and began tapping on the drum heads, tightening them, and then checking the contents of his music folder, I heard Brick and Threnody arriving in the elevator down the hall. I began planning the questions I’d ask Brick concerning my encounter with Adrian Diaz at the graveyard. But before Brick and Threnody reached the dance floor, Mama G began blowing on her conch shell. No time now to ask anyone anything.

How could she do this to us! I needed to change into evening clothes. Couldn’t she see that we wouldn’t be ready for guests for an hour or more? Nobody had lit the patio torches, and the sandwiches hadn’t been made and arranged on serving plates. We weren’t ready to admit patrons. Pablo stepped down from the bandstand, shaking his head and smiling for a change.

“She doesn’t get any better, does she?” He nodded toward Mama G whose face had grown crimson from her blowing efforts. “She says her first number’s always “Row, Row, Row Your Boat,” but she could fool me.”

With effort, I kept a straight face. “I don’t recognize the tune, either, but I guess recognition doesn’t matter. It’s the wailing noise that helps draw a crowd.” I nodded toward the hallway outside The Frangi entrance. Couples, some in poolside cover-ups and others in evening finery were beginning to arrive. Two women peeked through the entryway, curious to see the source of the weird noise, eager to know what was happening or what was about to happen next.

“I’ll light the torches,” Brick shouted, barely making himself heard above the eerie clamor of Mama G’s conch shell. Pablo stepped back on the bandstand and rechecked his trap set, tightening a couple more snare drum heads before he stepped onto the dance floor and turned to help Brick. No time to talk with Brick now. I wanted his undivided attention when I instigated our conversation. I seized the moment to rush to my suite, change into my hostess attire, and rush back to the dance floor.

By the time I returned, torch flames like giant-size party candles undulated toward the sky and for a few moments the smell of lighter fluid hung in the air. Dolly left the kitchenette and her sandwich preparation, but when she saw the flames, she backed away, perhaps remembering last night’s fiasco in extinguishing the torches.

Due to The Frangi’s impromptu opening and our rush to make sandwiches, greet patrons and serve refreshments, almost two hours passed before I found a quiet moment to talk to Brick between combo numbers. Was it my imagination, or had he been avoiding me?

“Threnody tells me she and Pablo made the necessary arrangements for Diego’s service at Bayview tomorrow afternoon.”

Brick nodded and paused while a patron stepped between us to pay for a sandwich and a soda. “I’ve been checking on things at the chandlery. Jessie’s preparing it for a small reception following the service. Had some of the dock hands shove motors and reels of line aside so he could set up chairs and a refreshment table. Don’t know how many people might plan on attending.”

“How thoughtful of you to offer your place of business. Pablo must be most appreciative.”

“Yes. He is. I’ve also asked one of the dock masters to serve coffee, and Mama G will be supplying sandwiches—pulled pork. I spoke to her and insisted on nothing more exotic. She and I have an agreement about that. No escargot. No pickled conch with capers. Just sandwiches suitable for a quiet and dignified funeral reception.”

“Brick, I’m concerned. Kane and I walked to the graveyard this afternoon.” I forced myself not to shudder at the memory of the egrets wandering among the vaults. “I talked to Mr. Adrian Diaz, the man in charge of the place. He said nobody made any arrangements with him for Diego’s burial plot. What happened to our morning’s plan? Did you have a problem?”

“Well, you could see how crowded the graveyard is, Rafa. Mr. Diaz told me there were no plots available at this time.”

“You mean the graveyard is totally full? What will the grieving families do in the future?”

“It’s only full temporarily,” Brick said. “At least they couldn’t get a spot ready as soon as tomorrow afternoon.”

“What did Pablo and Threnody have to say about that?”

Brick looked across the room at Pablo’s trap set, then paused a moment. “I haven’t given him that news yet. But not to worry. I talked to Mr. Tisdale at the mortuary. He said they will hold the urn, the ashes, until we decide on the proper place for them. It’s a service Tisdale’s offer free of charge.”

“Then I’ll stop worrying. It’s something we can take care of later. Glad there’s no problem.”

Maybe no problem with the funeral service and reception, but I had a problem with Brick’s lies. Adrian had said there were plenty of open plots. He said he hadn’t talked with Brick Vexton.

Chapter 24

The evening at The Frangi passed smoothly. Threnody sang “Harbor Lights,” the signature opening number before the combo took over, playing sets of 5 tunes, and then taking a brief break. During one of their intermissions, Pablo motioned me aside—a poor time for me since the break minutes were times customers wanted to chat with me and ask questions about the hotel and Key West. But Dolly stepped forward to relieve me and Pablo stood aside, letting me lead the way.

When we reached a far corner of the room, he pulled out a chair for me. I sighed, relieved to sit and relax for a few minutes, but Pablo’s straight-as-a-fly-rod posture put me on edge.

“What is it, Pablo? Got a problem with your drums?”

“No problem there. I need to talk to you about Brick—and Dad.”

“What about them?” I felt wary of anything he might say.

“They were at odds, you know.”

I knew Kane’s version of the future hotel-management disagreement between Brick and Diego, but I wanted to hear Pablo’s version, too. People seldom saw things in exactly the same way.

“Brick wanted to expand the Vexton business.” Pablo squirmed a bit, but didn’t relax his rigid posture. “He owns some land behind the chandlery, and he wanted to build a hotel—probably still wants to.”

“Seems that could be a good idea,” I said. “Key West is growing. There’s probably a demand for more tourist rooms—especially for big events like Fantasy Fest and Hemingway Days. Brick may be wise to be looking to the future.”

“Brick felt sure that another hotel would do a good business, the problem lay with Dad.”

“Diego tried to tell Brick what to do?”

“More like what not to do. Dad’s position on the council, gave him subtle ways of influencing other council members in matters concerning the ROGO.”

“The building permits.”

“Right. It can be very difficult to get any kind of a building permit in the Keys unless the council agrees to it. I heard talk about a guy who had to wait several months just to get a permit to build a pine housing for his air conditioner. Got no way of knowing whether that’s true, but Brick felt Dad was causing a delay in Brick’s name moving up on the ROGO. Brick wanted Jessie to manage the hotel once it was built. Dad wanted to be named manager. That was the problem.”

“And you think Brick’s feelings may have escalated into a disagreement that led to Diego’s murder.”

“It’s a possibility, Rafa. I wanted you to know this because I’m aware that you’re investigating Dad’s death and…”

“Hold it right there. What makes you think I’m investigating?”

“Don’t look so surprised. You’re not going to deny it, are you? You, as well as several of Dad’s friends are ‘persons of interest’ to the police. I see you as the kind of woman who wants to fight crime as well as one who doesn’t want to feel the finger of guilt pointed in her direction.”

Pablo’s words rang with more truth than I wanted to admit. Sometimes the best defense in this case would be an offence—especially in view of Brick’s lie. I gave it a try.

“You could be right about bad blood between Diego and Brick over the ROGO and a new hotel, but you must have shared your dad’s feelings. A new hotel with Diego in charge would have a trickle-down effect. One day it might drop more dollars into your pocket, right? Perhaps you and Brick also were at odds. Instead of working up a case against Brick, you’d better be watching your own back.”

Pablo stood abruptly. Without mentioning any weakness in my logic, he strode back to the bandstand and picked up his drumsticks as Mama G sounded a piano glissando, her signal to start the music again.

To all outward appearances, the rest of the evening passed smoothly. I could only guess at what might be going on in Pablo’s mind. Dolly made no offer to help Brick extinguish the patio torches. Pablo and Kane pushed tables and chairs into place before leaving for the night. Of course, Kane had seen Pablo and me talking during an intermission. I knew he must be curious about our conversation, but he asked no questions. I offered no explanation.

The next morning I blinked sleep from my eyes and reached for the ringing telephone on my bedside table.

“It’s in, Rafa! It’s in!” I recognized Threnody’s voice but not the importance of her message.

“What’s up, Threnody? Something wrong?”

“Sorry it’s so early, but I knew you’d want to know. Diego’s funeral notice made it into today’s
Citizen.
In addition to that, Brick called the local radio station and we heard the announcer break into the morning news to make a special report on the time and place for the service and the reception this afternoon.”

“Tisdale Mortuary is taking care of all the details?”

“Right. They’ll have plenty of folding chairs set up, a dais and mike for the minister, and an electric piano for background music.”

“It might have been nice to have asked Mama G to play.”

“The mortuary furnishes a pianist, but I plan to sing
a capella.
I think that’s most effective for an outdoor service, and it eliminates the problem of finding time to rehearse with an accompanist.”

“Hope they’ve assigned us a place where traffic sounds won’t drown out your voice.”

“They have. I checked it out yesterday afternoon. No problem there. All Brick and I have to do is to be there a half hour or so early to greet the mourners as they arrive. You’re welcome to help us with that duty if you care to.”

“What will you wear? For once, Dolly’s poet’s outfit will fit the occasion. But I’m stumped. I seldom wear daytime dresses. Don’t think I have any that would be suitable—just casual pants and tees.”

“Nothing wrong with casual. Just add a silk scarf and some subtle jewelry.”

“Could be okay,” I agreed, “but my hotel evening clothes won’t do. That’s for sure.” I sighed. “I won’t even consider borrowing a daytime dress from Cherie’s collection of Dior’s and Prada’s. No matter what my choice from her closet might be, she’d never let me forget how tasteless it was once she found out. And she’d make it a point to find out. I suppose I could wear something black—maybe a pants suit. I have a couple of those.”

Threnody laughed. “Don’t get in such a dither. Why don’t you come over to my place and we’ll choose something in my closet. I’ll be glad to lend you an appropriate dress if you decide against a black pants suit.”

“You’re very kind.”

“Sometimes I’m invited to sing at club meeting. I have some daytime dresses that are suitable for any special occasion. You’re welcome to borrow one. Can you come on over now? I’ll surprise you with a new recipe I made yesterday. Would love to have your opinion while we chat a bit—maybe about your investigation. Then we’ll look at the dresses.”

“Give me a few minutes, okay?”

I left cleaning instructions for Dolly on the countertop, and twenty minutes later I arrived at the Vexton mansion. Threnody stepped onto the veranda to greet me.

“Come on inside. I hope you like macaroons. That’s my new recipe.”

“Wonderful. I love macaroons. But Threnody!” I grinned and stifled a laugh. “Have you ever looked closely at this baluster beside the veranda steps?”

Threnody paused to scrutinize the balusters. “What do you mean? I see them every day, of course.”

I pointed at one baluster and stepped back, laughing. “At first I saw only the heart-shaped cutouts in the gingerbread design. Then when I take a closer look, I see whiskey bottle cut-outs set between the hearts.”

“Right.” Threnody nodded. “I’ve noticed them. Brick says some carpenter created this baluster during prohibition days. Maybe as a joke. Maybe as an advertisement for his bar. Most people don’t take time to notice the bottles. You have an eye for detail—a good thing in an investigator.”

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