Deadly Welcome (14 page)

Read Deadly Welcome Online

Authors: John D. MacDonald

BOOK: Deadly Welcome
9.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Buddy nodded. “She wouldn’t have been able to find it herself. She never had much interest in the water. And you know as well as I do what it’s like down there in all those mangrove islands. God, there must be twenty thousand
little islands. If she could remember a little, and anybody could help her, it would be old Lucas.”

“And Lucas left shortly after she was killed.”

He shook his head slowly. “Not Lucas, if that’s what you’re thinking. Not that old man. He didn’t know his daughter was finally coming after him. She’d been threatening to for a long time. He came around to say good-by. A decent old guy, Alex.”

“So then he didn’t know what she was driving at—I mean if we’ve been making good guesses.”

“Lucas was smart as hell about water and weather and fish and children. But he wasn’t too bright about people. People like Jenna. He’d take everybody at face value. And you know how he liked to talk. She would never have said anything about money.”

“You’re right. Just ask him to take her to the places where her father used to take her. For old times’ sake.”

Buddy kicked the trailer tire. “All this is fine, Alex, but it leaves something up in the air. How come Jenna gets that idea all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know. As you said, it was a long time ago. Twenty years. Maybe something reminded her. And she started thinking.”

“But even if she was right, the money is still there. And she is dead, so even if Lucas wasn’t gone, it wouldn’t be possible to find it.”

“Unless, Buddy, she described the place where she wanted to be taken especially. All she could remember of it. And Lucas said he thought he could find it, and promised to take her there.”

“Then we ought to check with Lucas.”

“It would be the only way. You’ve got the shore line of the keys and the shore line of the mainland, and then all those islands, Buddy. It would take years and years to cover the area, even if you had some idea of what you were looking for. You couldn’t even look for a place that
was kept cleared of brush because it’s been nine years since your father made his last trip.”

Buddy suddenly grinned in a mirthless way. “If you want any more proof, I’ve thought of something else. He kept that rod and the tackle box in his office. I went through that stuff after he died. A fair-sized tackle box, with just a couple of lures in it. Damn near empty. I looked around but I couldn’t find the rest of the stuff I thought he must have carried in it. And I didn’t think anything much about it until now. He liked cash deals. So he’d come back from selling off land with the cash, and he’d transfer it from his brief case to that tackle box, and tell somebody to get the skiff ready. And then he’d take off. Hell, when the big treasure hunt was on after he died, I thought he could have hidden the stuff somewhere down the bay. I guess everybody thought of that. But we just never thought of there being some specific place that he went to that somebody else might know about. We didn’t remember about Jenna when she was little and was willing to go on picnics with him.”

“Betty told me about Sunday being Jenna’s day. I didn’t think about there being a special place until Arnie Blassit told me about Jenna being nice to Lucas the night she was killed.”

Buddy stared curiously at Alex. “It’s the sort of thing the family should have figured out. Not an outsider. Funny you should have come up with a thing like this.”

“I’ve had some practice adding bits and pieces of information together, trying to come up with some kind of pattern. I can tell you about it some time. But right now, we ought to get hold of Lucas. Do you know his address?”

“It’s probably at the post office. Or if it isn’t, Arnie Blassit would know it.”

“Buddy, there’s the chance that if we’re right, and we get Lucas down here and find the place, it may be gone. If somebody overheard them talking, Jenna and Lucas, and figured they could find it themselves …”

“Then that would be the person who killed Jenna.”

Alex made a slow ceremony of lighting a cigarette. He said quietly, “Has anybody thought of Donnie Capp?”

Buddy stared at him blankly. “Donnie?”

“Is there something sacred about him, for God’s sake? Look at the facts. He was at the Mack. He sat with Jenna and Lucas during the tail end of their conversation. He patrolled the beach road often enough so it wouldn’t mean anything if his car was seen out there. He’s put on a hell of an act about finding out who did it. And he’s been damned insistent about nobody prying into the case.”

“Yes, but …”

“Try this for size, Buddy. He heard enough to know that Lucas could take him to some spot Jenna had described. He talked to Lucas after Jenna left the table. And it’s possible that Jenna, drunk, wasn’t as subtle as she thought she was being. So he left and waited for her, thinking about the money. Maybe he tried to make some kind of deal with her. She wanted no part of Donnie Capp. And so he killed her. And then he had it made. All he had to do was wait until it all died down, wait a month or so, and then get Lucas to take him to the place Jenna had described. Secretly. And it would have been no trick for him to kill Lucas, sink his body in a hole and leave his boat adrift. You know what people would have said. Then all he would have had to do was wait a little longer, think up some logical reason for quitting, and take off with the money. But he didn’t count on Lucas’s daughter coming after him and taking him away so suddenly. That left him in a bad spot. He couldn’t go bring Lucas back without attracting a lot of unwelcome attention. And it made the murder of Jenna meaningless. I think he’s under a hell of a strain. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s getting damned erratic. The way he worked me over is maybe an evidence of strain. Take it out on somebody, anybody.”

“Donnie Capp,” Buddy said softly. “On the job twenty-four hours a day, and he’s never tried to graft a dime.”

“But this is a lot more than a dime.”

“Now here is a funny thing,” Buddy said slowly. “Donnie has hunted all his life. He never gave a damn for fishing. About Christmas he came in and he bought himself a little twelve-foot aluminum boat and a big rebuilt outboard. Betty made him a good price, I remember. And we tried to tell him that motor was too big to troll good, but he said he didn’t have much time and he’d rather run fast to where he was going, even if it did troll a little rough. And I tell you that most of the winter old Donnie was the fishingest man you’d ever want to see. He took a lot of kidding about it on account of he just never could come back in with much of anything. And finally Roy Lawlor got tired of trying to get hold of Donnie and not being able to get him, so he clamped down some. He still goes out a lot but not so often. Keeps the boat over there the other side of Bay Street, tied up at Garner’s Bait Dock. You see him scoot out under the bridge every so often, with that big hat on him. He must sleep in that hat.”

“So he’s been trying to find it by himself.”

“You go too damn far, Alex. There’s no reason why a man can’t take up fishing. And when a man takes it up, it can get to be a disease. And Donnie was a hunting fool until he took up fishing. I know Donnie pretty well, I just can’t see him … killing my sister.”

Alex thought for a few minutes. “If a man was going out hunting for that money, what would be the thing he’d most likely take with him?”

“Well, he’d take a shovel. Right after my father died, there was a run on shovels like you never see before.”

“And he wouldn’t be likely to carry a shovel to that boat every time he went out, would he?”

“It would look damn funny. I see what you mean. Let’s go.”

Buddy stuck his head in the office and told Betty they would be back in a little while. Buddy drove the blue jeep down Front Street and across Bay and another three blocks to Garner’s. They walked out onto the dock.

“Here it is,” he said. The aluminum boat was tied off, with a stern line on a piling, the bow line on a cleat on the dock. Buddy untied the bow line and brought the boat in close to a rotting step. He stepped into it lithely for a man of his size. Alex held the bow line and looked down into the boat. Buddy squatted and reached up under the shallow foredeck. He took out an object wrapped in a faded green tarp. He unwrapped it. They both stared at the folded entrenching tool for a few moments. Buddy wrapped it up again and stowed it. He climbed up onto the dock and was making the bow line fast when Alex turned and saw Donnie Capp walking swiftly toward them along the dock, his sallow face expressionless.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

Buddy looked up at him casually. “Hi, Donnie. Alex here was thinking on getting a boat for himself. I told him about the rig we fixed you up with, and he wanted to see it, so I figured you wouldn’t mind if I showed it to him.”

“You have to get into it to show it to him?”

“Tell you the truth, Donnie, I forgot what horse motor you got, so I got in to lift up the motor cover and take a look.”

“It’s a little big for the boat,” Alex said. “I think a ten would do me.”

Buddy stood up and they stood facing Donnie Capp. The narrow colorless eyes swiveled quickly from face to face. Buddy said, “I guess it suits you all right, Donnie.”

“It’s fine.”

“Have you got a good used ten-horse around?” Alex asked Buddy.

“We better go back and check with John Geer.”

“If you got a boat like this one, why didn’t you show
him the one you got instead of mine?” Donnie asked.

Buddy faltered for a moment and said, “Well, we haven’t exactly got one, Donnie, but there’s a fella has one wants to make a trade. And if we got a sale on the one he wants to trade, we can make him a better price. This time of year you have to get out and move the merchandise.”

“How about letting me take it out?” Alex asked quickly.

Donnie stared at him. He turned and spat into the water. “If you was on fire, Doyle, I wouldn’t do you the favor to push you off this here dock. And because you sold me the boat, Buddy, it doesn’t give you any right to mess with it.”

He turned on his heel and walked away. They could see the county car parked beside Garner’s shack.

“I need a drink,” Buddy said.

They parked the jeep in front of the Mack and went in. Janie was tending bar. They took a table far from the bar, over by the bowling machine. They both ordered beer and, as Janie turned away, Buddy asked her to bring a shot with his.

Buddy threw the shot down, gulped half the glass of beer and said, “I needed that. How did I do, talking to him?” He kept his voice low.

“I don’t know. If I’m right, he’s going to be suspicious of every damn thing.”

“You made a hell of a good guess.”

“Will you buy it?”

“I’ll buy part of it, Alex. Somebody else could have killed her and all the rest of it could still be the way you say.”

“I’ll grant that. But suppose we were both sure he did kill her? What would we do next?”

“You couldn’t find proof. There wasn’t a clue. And I don’t think he’d crack. If I was dead sure, Alex, I think I’d just up and kill him with my hands. Ever since I got my growth I’ve had to be careful about losing my temper.
I cleaned this place out one night. Over seven hundred bucks’ damages. It was some crack somebody made about Betty. I didn’t kill anybody. But I come too damn close for comfort. He was out cold for three days and he didn’t get out of Davis General Hospital for nearly three weeks.”

“That would be a dandy solution, Buddy. You kill him and the law takes care of you. Nice for Betty and your mother. But you’ve been the big hero, so it’s all right.”

“I talk a lot, don’t I?”

“The thing to do is get hold of Lucas Pennyweather and get him down here. Pay his way. See if he can take you to the place Jenna described to him, if she did describe a specific place. It’s worth the gamble. You’ve got a legitimate reason. And … it might be interesting to see how Capp reacts if Lucas shows up down here.”

“Here comes Betty. Let’s keep it to ourselves.”

She came directly to the table and said, “Well! My spies reported the jeep in front of this place. If a girl wants a beer, she has to come get her own.” She sat down. “One brew, Janie, please.”

“Who’s minding the store?” Buddy asked.

“The capable Mrs. West and the capable Mr. Geer. There was a phone call from Clearwater. Mr. Hitchins. He wants to have that Consolidated of his brought down here for a lot of work and summer storage. I said we could take it.”

“Forty-two feet, isn’t it?”

“With two Chrysler 275’s. I looked it up. His captain will bring it down and turn it over to us. I guess you must have had an intensive tour of inspection, Alex.”

“I saw everything. Saw the
Lady Bird
.”

“My angel. Can I ask what is the matter with you two? Aren’t you getting along? You act odd and strained.”

“We’re getting along fine, Betty.”

She looked at the two of them dubiously. “I hope so.”
They talked boats for a little while and then went back to the yard. Betty went into the office. Buddy stood by Alex beside the Dodge. “I’ll get the address and get the call through. If he’s well enough to come down, I’ll pay his way. That is, if Jenna told him anything definite. I’ll go over town now and find out the address and make the call.”

Alex looked at his watch. “It’s after four now. I want to stop and see Myra Ducklin. Why don’t you bring Betty out for a swim later on and you can tell me how you made out?”

“Okay.”

Doyle had a visit with Myra Ducklin. It was a little after five when he drove back toward the key. He thought of his own deductions, not with pride, but with grim and somewhat weary acceptance. A stranger could not have come to Ramona and found such an inevitable way of fitting the pieces together. And the local people had been too close to it all to understand how and why it had happened. It had required the rare combination of great familiarity so that people would talk, plus that special detachment which came from having been away so long. And perhaps one additional factor had been necessary—the sort of training which made you alert to the motives of other human beings, which taught you to turn odd facts this way and that way until a pattern began to form, until you began to sense what you had to look for to complete the pattern and make it so obvious that you began to wonder how it could have been overlooked.

Other books

Ballroom of the Skies by John D. MacDonald
Beautiful Antonio by Vitaliano Brancati
Toujours Provence by Peter Mayle
Pegasus: A Novel by Danielle Steel
Edge of Passion by Folsom, Tina