An Easy Sail_A Connie Barrera Thriller_The 8th Novel in the Series_Mystery and Adventure in Florida and the Caribbean

by Charles Dougherty

  "That does make it look like a murder-suicide," Jorge said.

  "Did they let the security guard go in with them?" Contreras asked.

  "Yeah, at first. Once they found the two bodies, the captain chased everybody out and they called in the M.E. and the forensics people."

  "Was he able to get a look at the guy LaRosa supposedly killed?" Contreras asked. "Was it the guy in the sketch?"

  "Yeah, he got a look. Said he about lost his lunch. The guy's face was completely blown away. They got no idea what he looked like, but he had a driver's license with the name William Roberts on it. Picture on the license looked a lot like the sketch."

  "His face was blown away?" Jorge asked, frowning.

  "Yeah. The guard's buddy, that first detective, he told the guard that LaRosa emptied the magazine of his .45 into the guy's face. Hollow points. Said it looked like a pile of raw hamburger meat."

  "But he saw the guy in the sketch enter the unit?" Contreras asked. "On the monitor?"

  "Yeah. Said he and the detective were both sure it was the guy in the sketch that went in the unit while they were watching."

  "Anybody know how long LaRosa was there before the guy went in?" Jorge asked.

  "No clue. LaRosa owned the unit, though. They figure he had keys. Roberts was renting from him. That's about all I got." Miguel wolfed down another bite of pizza.

  "Good job," Contreras said.

  Miguel nodded, chewing his cold pizza. He reached for another slice. "You get anything while I was gone?" he asked, before he took a bite.

  "Maybe," Contreras said.

  "I got a nap," Jorge said.

  "I thought you were gonna stake out the Pussycat," Miguel said.

  "It's closed for two days. No explanation — just a sign on the door," Jorge said.

  "I heard back from my cousin," Contreras said.

  "Yeah? What did she have to say?"

  "I think her husband wrote it. I told them their yacht was mentioned in that memo, or whatever it was that the cops found with the bodies. I suggested they might want to call Pantene to see if he knew what was going on, or if they were in any danger."

  "Where'd you get that? About a memo?" Miguel asked.

  "I can't say. But it was all my source knew about the case."

  "Nobody said anything about a memo," Jorge said. "Not on the news."

  "No, that's right," Contreras said. "It was on a laptop; they had to get help from the feds to crack the password."

  "Aha!" Miguel said. "I see. What did your cousin and her husband make of that?"

  "Her husband retired from the MPD as a captain. Luke Pantene was his partner for years, and took his place."

  "Can he get stuff from Pantene for us?" Jorge asked.

  "We're working on that. I think so, but he's not willing to play his old partner, not that I blame him."

  "How's it going to work, then? We can't tell them anything," Miguel said.

  "I checked them both out, Russo and Pantene," Contreras said. "They're rock-solid."

  "Yeah, but ... " Jorge shook his head.

  "I'm with Jorge," Miguel said. "Nobody knows anything about us. It's gotta stay that way, boss."

  "I agree. Russo's willing to keep my name out of it, and even if that slips out somehow, I've been dead for a long time. They don't know anything else about me, and they don't even know you two exist."

  "How's he gonna do that?" Jorge asked. "Keep your name out of it?"

  "He'll say I'm a source he's used before, and that the only name he ever had for me belongs to a dead man, and that even his FBI contacts couldn't get past that the last time I fed him information."

  "He's gonna give up your real name? You gonna agree to that?"

  "No. He's not proposing to give it up. He's going to tell Pantene what I just told you."

  "You agreed to this?" Miguel asked.

  "Not yet, and I won't, unless you're both okay with it. That's the deal I offered when you joined me, and that's the way it's going to be."

  Miguel and Jorge looked at one another, and then both turned to stare at Contreras.

  After several seconds, Miguel asked, "What's your vote? You think it's good?"

  "Yes," Contreras said, "or I wouldn't have proposed it to you. I think it's good, but it's not risk-free. I want a gut-check from each of you. If either of you says no, then it's no for all of us. I won't second-guess you."

  Miguel and Jorge looked at one another for several seconds.

  "I'm in," Miguel said, breaking the silence.

  "Me, too," Jorge said. "What's the next step?"

  "I'll send a message to Russo and tell him to approach Pantene. If he gets a buy-in, I figure we'll share what we know about the Pussycat for starters. Then we'll see what we can get from Pantene on this Berto character."

  "You aren't gonna tell him what we got on the senator?" Miguel asked.

  "Not yet."

  "Or his buddy the crooked lawyer?" Jorge asked.

  "Not until we see where this is going. You disagree?" Contreras asked.

  "No," Miguel said. "Just wondered."

  "Jorge?" Contreras asked.

  "I'm good with it."

  "All right, then. I'll write it up and send it to Russo. We'll see how Pantene reacts. Why don't you two sack out? I'm gonna turn in as soon as I get this posted."

  3

  "What do you make of it?" Connie asked. She was reading Contreras's response over Paul's shoulder.

  "Reading between the lines, he wants whatever Luke knows about this murder-suicide," Paul said. "He's worried about blowing his cover, which I can understand. But I think Luke will work with us on that. Contreras is offering to share information from his surveillance of a club called the Pink Pussycat. He's sure Luke will know that's relevant."

  "But he doesn't say what information he has," Connie said.

  "No. He's looking for some indication that Luke will trade before he gives anything away. I would be, in his position."

  "What kind of place do you suppose the Pink Pussycat is?"

  "It's a dive in Miami. A hood named Pinkie Schultz has run it forever. He's one of those guys we always knew was guilty of something, but we never quite managed to hang anything on him."

  "Pinkie? Is that where the club's name came from?"

  "No. I don't think so. Schultz is a loan shark, among other things. The rumor is that if you're late paying, his guys will clip off your pinkie finger. Word was that he had a collection of them."

  "Ugh. That's disgusting," Connie said. "Who do you suppose Contreras works for?"

  "I'd guess the DEA, because he first approached you about the rumors you started about your controlling the flow of drugs through the islands. But it could be anybody."

  "Do you think he's legit?" Connie asked.

  "Yes. He's connected to somebody who was able to shut down an FBI inquiry into his background, remember?"

  "Right, but isn't it possible he's crooked?"

  Paul frowned. "Have I missed something? Did he say something somewhere along the way that made you suspicious?"

  Connie ran a hand over his brow, smoothing the wrinkles. "No. Life made me suspicious, but you know that."

  Paul nodded, holding her gaze. "He doesn't behave like a crook. That's twenty-five years as a cop speaking. I've been fooled before, but not often. I think he's okay."

  "Are you willing to talk to Luke about this, then?"

  "Yes, I think so. I'll position Leon as an anonymous but trustworthy source."

  "Aren't you going to give Luke his name?"

  "I'm going to try not to. It won't help Luke and it might hurt Leon if it got out somehow. I'll explain to Luke that the only name we have for him makes him a guy who died in prison a long time ago. I'll tell him about what we ran into with O'Brien at the FBI last year, without mentioning specifics. I think Luke will buy that. Shall I call him?"

  "Okay, I guess," Connie said.

  Taking in Connie's expression, Paul put an arm around her shoulders
and gave her a squeeze. "What's wrong?"

  "Oh, it's just what I mentioned earlier. I know we have to see this through; there's not much choice. But I'm ready to cut the ties to my past."

  "It's going to be all right, skipper. If it weren't for your past, I wouldn't have met you. Cheer up; we're going to come out okay. We always do. And this gig with Marcia Levine sounds like it could be that easy sail you were wishing for."

  She smiled at him. "Thanks, cookie. You always know how to make a girl feel good. I think I'm going to take a long, hot shower. We're going to fill the water tanks tomorrow anyway. While I'm wasting water, you can call Luke. It would probably be better if I weren't part of the first call, don't you think?"

  "Maybe so. Go use up all our water; you deserve it."

  Luke Pantene sat at his desk staring into space and wondering what he had just agreed to. He trusted Paul Russo with his life. He didn't have doubts about his old partner, but this deal was odd. He smiled as he remembered the way Paul had revealed his southern roots when he introduced the subject.

  "I'm gonna ask you to buy a pig in a poke, but it's a pretty good pig, Luke," Paul had said. Then he had given Luke some background on an unnamed source that had been helpful to him and Connie in the past.

  "Do you know who this person is?" Luke had asked. "I don't need you to tell me, but I need to know that you know, okay?" That was when Paul's story had begun to sound strange.

  "We know who he was before he died," Paul said.

  "What are you smoking, Paul? Have you and Connie been playing with a Ouija board, or what?" Luke asked. "You're getting tips from the dear departed, now?"

  Paul had explained how he tried to check out the source using one of the FBI contacts that he and Luke had worked with over the years.

  "And he was killed in prison in California?" Luke asked. "How long ago?"

  "Around ten years ago."

  "Why do you trust him, then? What makes you think he's who he says he is? How did you even come to be in touch with him?"

  "He's a relative of Connie's. He knew a lot of private family details about trivial stuff. He's real," Paul said. "O'Brien tried to get more details on him, but he got shut down."

  Bill O'Brien was the FBI contact Paul had alluded to earlier.

  "Shut down?" Luke asked. "You mean somebody told him to butt out?"

  "Yeah. Bill said he'd heard of stuff like this happening, but he'd always thought it was like an urban legend. He thinks it's some kind of deep cover operation — his suggestion was to leave it alone."

  "So why didn't you?" Luke asked.

  "We did. The source didn't. He called us to begin with because Connie's name had surfaced in an investigation he was running and he thought she was in danger. He helped us out and then disappeared."

  "Connie knows him, then?"

  "Never met him, but she knew he existed."

  "Jesus, Paul. What's the punch line here? Why are you telling me this?"

  "He's gotten in touch with us again, and he suggested we talk with you about a case."

  "Let me guess," Luke said. "It's a murder-suicide."

  "How'd you get there so fast?" Paul asked.

  "I was going to call you in the morning, just to let you know about it. There's a connection to you and Connie."

  "You mean because of Dani and Liz?" Paul asked. "Or because of the memo?"

  "How the hell ... What do you know about a memo?"

  "He said there was a memo that mentioned us and Dani and Liz. It was on a laptop found at the scene. That's all I got from him."

  "Damn!" Luke said. "You sure about this guy?"

  "As sure as I can be, not knowing any more about him than what I've told you. Why?"

  "The memo on the laptop," Luke said. "Nobody outside the investigation knows about it. We kept it back from the press. So he's got a source inside the department. Or he's connected to whoever did it."

  "Maybe he's got a source. Based on our previous experience with him, I don't think he played a part in the crime," Paul said. "Did you use any outside help on the computer?"

  "Yeah," Luke said. "The feds."

  "There you go," Paul said. "He must have some way to get access to stuff the feds have, unless you think you've got a leak."

  "I don't know," Luke said. "Neither option makes me happy."

  "I understand," Paul said. "What was in the memo?"

  "Related to you and Connie?" Luke asked, then continued. "Not much. It said Diamantista II and Vengeance were sister ships, and that you use the same charter broker as Dani and Liz. The rest dealt with the surveillance gear that was installed on Vengeance."

  "Surveillance gear?" Paul asked.

  "Yeah. Short version — Dani and Liz left Vengeance at a marina in Miami and spent a couple of weeks in New York. That was right after you guys were all here for Mario's birthday party. When they came back, Vengeance was missing. She turned up a day or two later down in St. Lucia, and somebody had installed bugs and video recording gear. Well concealed, too. A professional job. Then they had a charter that turned out to be setting up a congressman for blackmail. I'm sure they'll tell you all about it, or Phillip and Sandrine will, the next time you talk to them."

  "Okay," Paul said. "But why use Vengeance?"

  "That's the big question," Luke said. "That, and what really happened in the condo where we found the two bodies."

  "A murder-suicide," Paul said.

  "Meant to look that way, anyhow," Luke said. "Classic case of two bodies in a room locked from the inside."

  "You don't buy that, I take it," Paul said.

  "It's too easy. Plus, there's the 'Why Vengeance?' question."

  "Not to mention the reference to Connie and me."

  "Yeah, that, too."

  "Is there a connection to the Pink Pussycat?" Paul asked.

  "What? Why do you ask about the Pink Pussycat?" Luke's voice was rising in pitch.

  "Our mystery helper offered to supply surveillance information on the Pussycat," Paul said.

  Luke groaned. "So the feds are not only working on my turf without telling anybody. Now they're interfering in our investigation."

  "I don't know, Luke. He didn't say why they were watching the club. Maybe they're after Pinkie Schultz for something. Does the Pussycat figure in your murder-suicide?"

  "One of the bodies — the supposed suicide — was Manny LaRosa," Luke said.

  "No great loss there," Paul said, "but what's LaRosa got to do with the Pink Pussycat?"

  "There's no reason you would know this," Luke said, "but Schultz disappeared a few months ago and his enforcer took over the club. A guy named — "

  "Dick Kilgore," Paul interrupted. "I remember Kilgore."

  "Yeah. And then Kilgore disappeared after a few weeks and LaRosa took over. How far back can your source go on the surveillance of the club?"

  "He didn't say. Just dropped the hint. I suspect he wants to see if you'll trade."

  "Trade what?"

  "I don't know yet. Who was the other body in that condo?"

  "We aren't sure. He had a fake driver's license in the name of William M. Roberts. His lease on the condo was in that name, too. He was renting it from LaRosa, by the way. He's not in the system, anywhere. Not by that name or any other. No match on his prints."

  "Anybody able to i.d. him from mugshots, maybe?"

  "His face was destroyed, Paul. The photo on his fake license looked a lot like a sketch we had of a guy named Berto, who was a suspect in the theft of Vengeance."

  "What a mess," Paul said. "It sounds like somebody wanted you to trust that driver's license."

  "Yeah, tell me about it. It gets worse, too, but first, find out what your guy wants. I'll take his help, unless he wants something that I can't give him."

  "What might that be?" Paul asked.

  "Parts of the case are politically sensitive."

  "The congressman?"

  "No, not him. His brother-in-law already blew the lid off that. He's toast. It's com
plicated. I'll tell you later, but first, see what your guy has, okay?"

  "Sure," Paul said. "Okay if I warn him about your political constraints?"

  "Yeah, sure. He might as well know that going in. You got any idea what he's doing in our city?"

  "No. I'm not even sure if he's there or just has access to people who are."

  "Jesus, Russo. At least you're not boring. Tell Connie hello, and let me hear about this deal. I gotta go."

  "Tell me what Luke said." Connie's head rested on Paul's shoulder as they sat in the cockpit, enjoying the cool of the evening in the Jolly Harbour mooring field.

  "He said he'd been planning to call us in the morning anyway. There's some connection to us in this case he's working on."

  "The murder-suicide?" Connie asked, raising her eyebrows.

  "Yes."

  "Besides what Leon wrote us about?"

  "Maybe." Paul told her about the theft of Vengeance and the installation of the surveillance equipment aboard her.

  "Whoa! I wouldn't have wanted to be around Dani when she got her hands on whoever took Vengeance. What happened?"

  "I don't know all the particulars. Luke figured we should talk with Dani and Liz or Phillip Davis. He said somebody was using Vengeance as a blackmail setup for a congressman, but that's not where his attention's focused right now."

  "But why would they have bothered to steal Vengeance?" Connie asked. "It seems to me that was an unnecessary complication in a blackmail plot. Were some of these people connected to Dani or Liz somehow?"

  "That's what everybody wants to know," Paul said. "Nobody's come up with an answer to the 'Why Vengeance?' question."

  "Who were the victims?"

  "In the blackmail scheme?"

  "No. You said it was some congressman. I meant in the murder-suicide."

  "The guy who killed himself was named Manny LaRosa. He ran the Pink Pussycat. The other one — "

  "Wait! You told me somebody named Pinkie something ran the Pink Pussycat."

  "My info was out of date," Paul said. He told her about Luke's story of LaRosa's taking over the club.

  "Who was LaRosa?" Connie asked. "Where did he come from?"

  "He was a long-time bad guy in Miami. We never managed to pin anything on him. Everybody was scared to testify against him."