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Boneyard Beach

Page 15

by Bill Noel


  “Crap,” Connie said. “We didn’t lose him; he’s dead. Besides, we hardly knew the man. I, for one, don’t plan to miss him much.”

  David put a hand on Connie’s arm. “Now Connie, a loss of one is a loss for all.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Harriet blurted.

  Charles leaned over to me and whispered, “Normal must be taking a later bus.”

  William, who does better at avoiding the mundane and pettiness around him, said, “What will be our destination this fine morning?”

  “After some debate on the ride over, we decided we would get adventurous and stroll west on Arctic Avenue to where it intersects with Third Street and then up Third to Cooper, over to Center, and back to the house. It will be our longest walk yet, another step in preparation for our goal of reaching Boneyard Beach.”

  Chester’s “adventurous” and “longest walk yet” consisted of four normal-length blocks with two short blocks thrown in. It may be another step toward the goal, but only a baby step.

  “Let’s get going,” Harriet said. “It’ll take us all day at this pace.”

  Theo said, “Huh?”

  Harriet put her arm around his bony shoulder and yelled into his ear. “This way, Theo.”

  Connie walked with Theo and Harriet toward Arctic Avenue. Harriet moved close to Theo and kept her arm around his waist.

  The rest of us followed Theo and his escorts. Chester hung back with Charles and me.

  “We’re all bummed about Abe. I had trouble herding them in the car; they wanted to stand around and mope. Who would have wanted him dead?”

  “Don’t know,” Charles said. “You have any idea?”

  It was better than asking Chester if he killed him.

  Chester looked ahead to the group that had Theo picking up the rear, still aided by Connie and Harriet. Chester leaned closer to Charles and me. “Between you, me, and the lamppost, I say good riddance.”

  There wasn’t a lamppost within a hundred yards. “Didn’t trust him?” I asked.

  “I could be wrong,” Chester said, “but I’ve been around the block a few times, and like I told you the other day, I had the feeling that he had a con or two in him.”

  “Anything specific?” I asked.

  “Too good to be true, popped in my head when he started talking about those backward mortgages.”

  Always-correct Charles interrupted. “Reverse mortgages,”

  “Whatever,” Chester said. “If they were so good, why didn’t other companies pay as much as his? Think he had the gals snowed.” He hesitated and pointed toward Theo’s escorts. “David was also asking him a bunch of questions like he was interested. Seems that since he’s an insurance agent, he’d know all about that stuff. Maybe he was just curious. Oh well, just seemed strange.”

  “Anything else?” Charles asked.

  Chester looked at the group that was already past the Oceanfront Villas, a half block ahead of us. “We need to step it up,” Chester said. “Don’t want them to think their leader is a slacker.”

  We picked up the pace and Charles picked up the questions. “Anything else?”

  “Nothing in particular,” Chester said. “Didn’t like the way he was sucking up to Theo.”

  “How?” Charles asked.

  “On the way over, Theo said something about investing in a good deal that Abe showed him. That’s all I know. You could ask him, he seemed to want to talk but the only person who seemed to understand what he was saying was David.”

  We had caught up with Theo, Harriet, and Connie—not too difficult since they were barely moving.

  Connie leaned close to Theo and yelled, “That’s too bad. We’ll miss him.”

  Theo lowered his head. “We were meeting today.”

  Charles moved beside Connie and walked laboriously slow with the trio. “Hey, Theo, who’d you say you were meeting?”

  Connie stepped back so Charles could get closer.

  “Had an appointment with Abe after today’s walk. I had a check ready to give him so he could put me in a special stock offering he told me about.”

  Charles had to yell for Theo to hear him, and Theo shouted everything he said. The rest of the group was well ahead of us, but seemed to slow, almost stop, when Theo started talking about a check and meeting Abe.

  Chester said, “That’s what he was talking about in the car.”

  I moved closer to Theo. “What kind of investment?”

  Theo looked over to see who was talking. “Hush, hush,” he said. “New company, going public next week. Abe said it’d make Microsoft look like a lemonade stand. Said he’d triple my million dollars overnight. Showed me a prospectus and letters from big-wigs in the industry saying it’d be the biggest thing since the iPhone.”

  Harriet was still holding on to Theo’s arm. “Now Theo, remember I told you to check it out before giving him the money.”

  He huffed. “I did. Read the prospectus and called one of the experts Abe told me about. Guy out in Silicon Valley. He was real knowledgeable about the stock. Said it was a sure thing.”

  Having a second person involved reminded me of how Abe had used Larry as his security specialist when he was conning businesses in Atlanta.

  I asked, “Could I see the prospectus?” That was the first thing that Abe was hawking that could be verified.

  Theo shook his head. “No way. It was so confidential that Abe took it right back. Said if it got in the wrong hands, it could squelch the deal.”

  That made no sense, but I didn’t see an upside of telling him so. “How about the expert’s phone number in California?”

  “Abe let me use his phone and he punched in the number. Sorry.” He looked back down at the roadway and shook his head. “And then someone went and killed him. Such a shame.”

  “Now, Theo,” Connie said, “you don’t need the money the stock would have made you. You’ll be fine.”

  “I know, I know. Just hate to pass on a golden opportunity.”

  The leaders of the group had passed the public restrooms and were stopped at the corner of West Ashley Avenue waiting for a break in the traffic so they could cross one of Folly’s main streets. Chester yelled, “Wait for us!”

  David waved for us to hurry. “Then speed it up, ET.”

  Theo, aka ET, said, “What?”

  “They’re waiting for us,” Connie said.

  A rather generous translation, I thought.

  “Have we learned anything useful yet?” Charles whispered as we caught up with the frontrunners—frontcrawlers.

  “No prospectus, no one to contact about the ‘sure thing,’ and Theo ready to hand Abe a check for a million dollars. That adds up to a con, regardless how you spin it.”

  Charles nodded. “Then who killed him?”

  The entire group, excluding the late Abe Pottinger, was now standing beside West Ashley Avenue waiting for the traffic to thin enough for us to make it across the street, when the conversation took a troubling turn.

  David said, “Anybody know the guy who owns the hardware store?”

  “Sure,” Chester said. “Larry.”

  Charles asked, “Why?”

  David took off his black NRA ball cap, wiped sweat from his forehead, and looked at Charles. “Since I’m the newbie, I was just wondering.”

  Just wondering would never cut it with Charles. “Why wondering?”

  Chester yelled, “Go!” before David answered.

  We made it safely across the street and the group gathered around David.

  “Don’t know if I should say anything.” David then hesitated and looked at each of us.

  “Sure you should,” Charles said, afraid that David would clam up.

  “Well, I was in Pewter the day before Abe, umm, passed away. With the house we bought, I’m afraid I’ve become a regular at the hardware store. Anyway, I was picking up some caulk for the shower and to see if they had .22 caliber cartridges and Larry and Abe were in the back. They didn’t see me.”


  “And?” Charles said.

  “And, they were in the middle of, how shall I say this, a heated discussion.”

  “Like a fight?” Chester said.

  David had become the center of attention. “More like an argument, no blows were thrown.”

  “What were they jawin’ about?” Cal asked.

  “I feel bad saying all this, seeing that Abe’s no longer with us.” He glanced down at the black ribbon on his arm.

  Charles tapped David with his cane. “It’s okay.”

  “I didn’t catch all of it, but Larry said something about Atlanta. And, Abe said prison, but I didn’t catch what he meant. He said that Larry had better watch out.”

  I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. This was a topic I would prefer to have stayed buried.

  Cal stepped closer to David. “What’d he mean?”

  “Don’t know. He could’ve been warning Larry about something.” He hesitated and looked at the road. “Or I guess it’s possible that he was threatening him.”

  Charles asked, “Was that all they said?”

  “That’s all I caught. That’s why I was wondering if any of you knew Larry.”

  Harriet said, “You think Larry shot Abe?”

  William looked at Harriet and then around to the rest of us and broke his silence. “Perhaps I am speaking out of turn, but I’ve known Mr. LaMond, Larry, for perhaps more years than anyone here, other than possibly Charles. I find him to be an upstanding, honorable, honest, and quite pleasant individual. I cannot even find it in my imagination to picture him assassinating Mr. Pottinger.”

  I could only imagine what William and the rest of the group would think if they knew what I knew about Larry. They wouldn’t hear it from me.

  Cal said, “I agree with William,”

  Chester chimed in, “Me too.”

  “I’m not accusing him of anything,” David said. “I don’t know anything about the man other than he’s been pleasant and helpful when I’ve been in the store. I simply found their disagreement odd in light of what’s happened.”

  “David,” Chester said, “I think you should tell the police. It might help their investigation.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to get someone in trouble for nothing. I really didn’t hear enough to say much.”

  Connie had remained quiet throughout the conversation, and I was surprised when she said, “I think you need to go to the cops. They were on the radio this morning asking for information. What you heard may not mean anything to you but you never know where it might tell the police.”

  “Connie’s right,” Harriet said. “We owe it to Abe. Anything that’ll help find his killer.”

  Theo looked at Connie and then over at Harriet. “Y’all talking about that dead kid who was killed by the queer boat captain?”

  None of us were, but that got everyone’s attention.

  Harriet moved closer to Theo and said, “What boat captain?”

  “Melville, or something like that. Don’t hear good sometimes, so I could have the name wrong. He’s the que—, umm, homosexual who takes drunken kids out into the marsh to do who knows what.”

  Charles moved closer to Theo. “The captain’s name is Mel not Melville. His name is Mel Evans. What makes you think he killed the student?”

  “Everyone knows he did,” Theo said as he looked around the group.

  “That’s what I heard,” Connie said. “Didn’t you hear it, Harriet?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t pay no mind to it. Rumors are as thick as gnats around here.”

  Cal stepped closer. “Gall darn it,” he took off his Stetson and waved it toward the others. “Let’s don’t go off believing everything we hear. Let me tell you something, I know Mel and he’s a fine man. He’s rough around the edges. Some of you already know that. He saved my life a while back with the help of these youngsters here; almost got himself killed in the process.” He pointed his Stetson at Charles and me. “He’s a good man, yes he is.”

  “But he is gay,” Chester said.

  “A big freakin’ so what?” Cal said. “Live and let live, that’s what I say.”

  Charles looked at Theo and then at Harriet and Connie. “Any reason to think he killed the student other than both of them may—I repeat—may be gay?”

  A large beer-delivery truck rounded the corner and drowned out Harriet’s words.

  The truck moved away and Theo said, “What?”

  “He speaks for all of us this time,” Charles said. “Harriet, what’d you say?”

  “Said that Connie’s brother told her that he knew Mel killed him.” She turned to Connie. “Didn’t you?”

  Connie gave Harriet a look that could by no stretch of the imagination be considered positive, and then turned to me. “Yeah, Robbie told me that he knew, but wasn’t going to say anything. Said he couldn’t prove it and sure didn’t want ‘Mad Mel,’ that’s what he called him, to know that he snitched him out. He’s called Mad for a reason, you know.” She turned to Harriet. “I didn’t tell you so you’d broadcast it to everyone.”

  Harriet returned her glare, and yanked her shoulders back. “Up yours, Connie! It’s not everyone, only our group, and we were talking about it.”

  Everyone tried to ignore her but she was so loud that even Theo heard her.

  “Okay, okay,” Chester said and leaned in the direction we were supposed to be heading. “We’ve rested long enough. Let’s get moving, we’re only halfway through our walk.”

  William had stepped out of the fray. “A superb suggestion.”

  David, who had started the discussion, said, “I agree with Chester. Besides, it doesn’t matter what we think, the police have that man in jail so they must know he did it.”

  The knot in my stomach continued to tighten as we resumed our hike. David and Cal took the lead, Theo, along with Harriet, who was helping to guide and encourage him, fell to the back of the group, and the rest of us bunched together in the middle.

  “Connie,” I said. “Did your brother say that he knew that Mel had killed the student?” I had moved up beside Connie and Charles leaned in from the other side to hear what I was saying.

  “Big mouth Harriet,” she mumbled, but then looked at me. “That’s what he said, but I don’t know if it’s true.”

  “I’d like to ask him. Know where he is?”

  Charles was on the other side of Connie and gave me a thumbs-up.

  “Not really, but I know that he and the other tour-boat guys are meeting tonight at the Surf Bar. They meet once a month, but I think tonight’s get-together is something different. They’re trying to figure out how they can distance themselves from the murder. Robbie said that it sure will be good to have one less boat captain out there, but the murder will hurt business in the short haul. Let me give you his cell number.”

  She took her phone out of her fanny pack showed me his number. I plugged it in my phone and she excused herself saying that she needed to slow down enough for Harriet and Theo to catch us. “Think she’s trying to get her hooks into old ET,” she said and chuckled. “I think he’s sweet on me, but I need to remind him that he is. His memory.” She shrugged.

  Twenty minutes later, the group gathered on Chester’s porch. Harriet griped about how her feet hurt from the walk; Chester went around high-fiving everyone for completing the long walk; David said that he needed to buy more life insurance on himself if Chester “made” him walk more; and Connie brought Theo a glass of lemonade. William had a grin on his face and said that it was a “refreshing experience,” and Cal strummed an air guitar and sang, “Six days on the road and I’m gonna make it home tonight.”

  Charles and I inched away from the group and conspired about how we were going to just happen to be at the Surf Bar tonight, and to be surprised when we saw the captains. Then we were going to invite ourselves to join them. Not a great plan, but the best we could come up with after the exhaustion from .5’s longest walk ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Three
r />   Our plan to meet at the Surf Bar was thwarted by an early-spring thunderstorm, so I picked Charles up at his apartment and found a parking spot a block from the popular watering hole. We entered, shook water off our hats, and looked around for the captains. They were nowhere to be seen, so we ventured to the patio where they were huddled around a table in the corner. The table closest to them was vacant so we sat with our backs facing the group. They were in animated conversation and wouldn’t have noticed if a rhinoceros had parked its ample rear in a chair beside them. There were three captains, three times that many empty beer bottles on the table, and each man had a grip on another bottle. They had arrived long before the rain.

  Loud splats of rain hitting the roof and the din of happy diners at four nearby tables made it difficult to hear what they were saying, but Timothy was the loudest and I caught bits of conversation.

  He was fuming and didn’t try to hide it. I turned to watch the group and caught “Hell yes, he did it,” and “Can you believe that macho queer making a pass at a college student forty years younger than him?”

  Nemo pounded his hand on the table. “I don’t give a rat’s posterior who he was hitting on. He’s given us a bad name.”

  Robbie took off his FB cap and rubbed his bald head. “All we have to do is weather the storm, and we’ll make more money with him gone. Hope he fries.”

  Robbie finished his beer, held the bottle in the air to get the waitresses attention, and spotted us. He put his arm down and leaned closer to his two table mates. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him put his forefinger to his mouth and say “Shhh,” and something about “… friends … Mel.”

  Charles was closer to their table and heard the rest of what Robbie had said. That was all it took. Charles leaned his chair back and almost touched Nemo’s arm. “Oh, hi guys. Didn’t see you there until I heard you talking about Mel.” He turned his chair toward the captains and scooted it closer to their table. “Mind if we join you?”

  It was a mute question since his chair was now closer to their table than to ours.

  Nemo had on the same Hard Rock Café, Toronto T-shirt that he’d worn the first time we’d met him here and his hair was still pulled in a ponytail. He glanced over at Robbie and then Timothy. Neither of them said yes or no, and Nemo said, “Why not. It’s raining old ladies and sticks out there. We’re not going anywhere.”

 

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