Designed to Kill (42 page)

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Authors: CHESTER D CAMPBELL

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BOOK: Designed to Kill
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She pointed the pistol at me. The Beretta might as well have been on the moon. She read my mind. “Keep your hands up where I can see them.”

I raised my hands. “What did he do when he saw you instead of your husband?”

“I aimed this big hunk of pistol at him and told him to do exactly as I said. I had intended to use it on him. My dear old daddy gave me this gun years ago. The serial number was filed off. I’m not sure where he got the thing. Probably from some unsavory friend. Anyway, I told Gannon to lower his front windows and move into the passenger seat, that Evan would be here in a few minutes. Then I moved around the front of the Blazer, keeping the gun pointed his way. I was coming around the fender when I saw him reach for the glove box. He didn’t know how fast I could move. I was at the window before he could get his hand out. When I saw his gun there, I knew I was in luck.”

“Why?”

“I knew his fingerprints would be on the gun. I had on rubber gloves I use sometimes when I’m re-potting plants. So I shot him with it, then dropped the gun at his feet. I found the condo key while raising the windows. Then I locked the doors and left.”

“You were lucky in more ways than one,” I said. “Sergeant Payne was so sure of his suicide theory that he made no search of the area on the right side of the Blazer. I’m sure you left some evidence you had been there.”

She nodded. “The deputy turned out to be a big help, all right. And things were going fine until you showed up. When I realized how much you knew, I figured I had better point you in the direction of my beloved husband. Your wife was very helpful with that.”

“I really appreciate the help,” I said. “And I’m glad we have these witnesses to your confession.”

She laughed. “Sorry. I don’t intend to leave any witnesses.” The barrel swung on me, and everything stood still as I coiled up for my lunge at her and across Jill. If I didn’t survive, perhaps Jill would.

At that moment, Ranger Ricky Alvarez stepped out of the darkness across from us, his weapon aimed at Greta Baucus. “Drop the gun, Mrs. Baucus. You’re under arrest for the murder of Timothy Gannon.”

As she turned, startled, I pulled the Beretta from my belt. Her big pistol was swinging on Alvarez. I barely had time to aim and fire.

Raw fear and adrenalin affected my aim. The nine millimeter hit the big revolver, spinning her around in shock and breaking her trigger finger. As the revolver headed for the ground I was already hurling myself at Jill. When it discharged on impact the bullet went harmlessly out over the darkened lagoon.

“Oh, God, Jill—your shoulder!”

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” She clung to me.

I got us up and gestured with the Beretta to Alvarez. “Let’s forget I brought this into the park.”

“I’ll have to report it,” he said, cuffing Greta, careful of her rapidly swelling hand. “But I’ll also report that I authorized you to bring the weapon in to assist me. Now I’d better call Sergeant Payne to come out and get the prisoners.” He hesitated. “That was some shot.”

“It wasn’t where I aimed,” I confessed. “She got a lucky break.”

“I didn’t want to kill her.”

“I know,” I said. “Neither did I, but it’s either act on instinct or be the victim.”

Alvarez secured Baucus with another pair of cuffs. “Sir, you’ve just admitted to conspiracy to breaking and entering, plus stealing and altering plans. I think
Escambia
County
can find enough to take you out of circulation for a long time.”

“I imagine
Harrison County
,
Mississippi
will be interested in questioning him, also,” I said. “And
Mobile County
,
Alabama
will probably want to know what he had to do with the death of Oliver O’Keefe.”

Jill had been listening quietly. Now she spoke up. “Don’t forget
Orange
Beach
, Greg.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s one I owe you for, Mr. Fletcher.”

 

 

 

 

54

 

We had driven up to the gate by the time Sergeant Payne arrived. The Baucuses sat in the rear seat of the National Park Service car, which was parked behind my Jeep. After the arrest, Alvarez had marched them back to where his car was hidden in the large turn-around at the boat launch area.

Payne stepped out of his patrol car and looked around, surprised, when he saw Jill and me standing beside the ranger.

“Who did McKenzie kill?” Payne asked, his voice booming through the chill night air.

I grinned. I had heard the ranger tell him to meet at the gate and pick up a murderer and an accomplice.

“Nobody,” Alvarez said. “Mr. McKenzie just solved a murder for you. Tim Gannon didn’t commit suicide after all. Mrs. Baucus shot him.”

The screeching of tires beside the gate announced the arrival of a highly agitated Lieutenant Cassel. He jumped out of his car and hurried over to where we stood, eyes flashing between Payne, Alvarez, Jill and me.

“What did he do now?”
Cassel
asked, pointing at me.

“Ricky says Mr. McKenzie caught a murderer,” said Payne.

“He what?”

Alvarez ordered Evan and Greta Baucus out of his car and explained to the two deputies what had happened.

The chagrin on
Cassel
’s face almost made me smile as my adrenalin settled down. “I thought I told you to let me know when you had something,” he said, glaring at me.

I shrugged. “It all came together pretty fast, Lieutenant. I thought it would work best to get them over here to the Seashore right away, and Mr. Alvarez agreed to the plan. There wasn’t time to involve anybody else.”

“I should have known you’d pull something like this,”
Cassel
said. “We picked up the two characters from
New Orleans
this afternoon. They deny knowing anything about you. Or anything about anything, for that matter.”

“Why didn’t you call and let us know?” I asked.

That brought a crack of a smile. “Like you said, it all happened pretty fast. I hadn’t gotten around to that yet.” He turned to Sergeant Payne. “You read ’em their rights?”

“I took care of that, and Mrs. Baucus needs some medical help for a broken finger,” Alvarez said. “From what they admitted back there in the road, this thing goes pretty deep. It’s all mixed up in that
Sand
Castle
accident.”

“He’s right,” I said. “And you’ll find when you run his prints that Mr. Baucus is actually a man named Wilson Fletcher from
Cheyenne
,
Wyoming
.”

“The hell you say.”
Cassel
was frowning again.

But I wasn’t through. “You’ll want to bring in his co-conspirator, Claude Detrich, also. They were both involved in altering Tim Gannon’s plans so they could use cheaper materials, which led to the balcony collapse and those two deaths.”

It was getting too much for the lieutenant. He turned to Jill and me. “You two had better come with me and give a statement.”

“I’ll need to do the same,” said Alvarez.

———

Jill and I didn’t get back to Gulf Sands until nearly
. But despite the late hour, I knew I had to call Sam Gannon. Fortunately, he hadn’t gone to bed yet.

“The case is closed,” I said. “The guilty party is under arrest.”

“You got the murderer?” Sam asked.

“Right. But until late this afternoon, I was sure it was somebody else.”

After I finished telling what had happened, Sam was silent for a moment. Then he breathed a deep sigh. “Greed. Pure greed. I hope she gets the chair, or whatever they do in
Florida
. Wilma probably won’t agree. I guess I should be more forgiving, myself, but I find that hard to do.”

I knew what he meant. Right now I wasn’t feeling too kindly toward several people, most notably those goons from
New Orleans
. But I’d soon get over it. And Sam would eventually reconcile himself to the loss of his son, though he would have a difficult time, considering Tim’s death had resulted from a decision made to satisfy such selfish ends.

After Sam and I had finished talking, Jill got on the phone to speak with Wilma and put everything in perspective.

“Such a terrible thing,” Jill said, “but now we know the other tragedy—the fall of that balcony with two people killed—was not Tim’s fault. You still have a lot of good memories, and you have those three boys.”

———

We wound up spending more time on Perdido Key than intended, with all the aftermath of the arrests. We gave more statements to the sheriff’s investigators, and the county building inspection people talked with me at length about what I had learned regarding the missing
Sand
Castle
plans. We signed statements for the
Orange
Beach
police and were visited by officers from
Mobile
and
Biloxi
. I even got a call from the FBI.

Greta Baucus was so furious over her husband’s deception that she agreed to tell everything she knew. And as Jill had surmised, she knew plenty. Sheriff’s investigators in
Mobile
found witnesses to the Mafia enforcers’ presence on
Dauphin
Island
. Strands of hair found in Ollie O’Keefe’s car matched those of the man with bushy black hair who had clobbered me in the face. He was indicted for murder, with his partner as an accomplice.

Baucus/Fletcher and Claude Detrich faced charges ranging from theft to forgery of official documents and conspiracy to murder. The DA was looking into additional counts dealing with the deaths from the balcony collapse. The Perseid Partners president was also indicted in
Biloxi
for bigamy. Baucus and Detrich were a contentious pair who ended up ratting on each other.

True to my word, I said nothing about Boz Farnsworth’s tennis date on the afternoon he supposedly watched the balcony concrete pour. But his conduct at the hearing set in motion an investigation to determine his fitness to continue as a Threshold Inspector.

The Rev. Charlie Brown invited us to dinner at his house one evening as a peace-making gesture. Also present were J.W. Payne and his wife Mona. She was an attractive woman, not nearly as large as her husband, with a soft voice and a friendly smile. She and Jill got along well from the start. The sergeant and I came around more slowly.

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