The Scorpion's Tale

by Wayne Block

  Chesney closed his eyes. “Okay, fine. I talked to the Scorpion. He didn’t want to deal directly with Billy anymore so I became his contact.”

  Detective Johnston nodded, pleased at the accuracy of his theory. “That’s how the Scorpion knew Steven was coming to Vegas?”

  “Not true,” Harry said. “He knew Steven was on his way to see Billy because Charlie P. had sent him from Chicago.”

  “Charlie P? Is that who Capresi saw in Chicago?”

  Harry Chesney winced, as he touched the gash on his head. “All I know is that Charlie gave the Scorpion the information.”

  Detective Johnston looked confused. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me Charlie met the Scorpion?”

  “That’s right,” Harry replied.

  “Face to face?”

  “I guess so.”

  “So, Charlie’s dead?”

  “Apparently, the Scorpion left Charlie alive.”

  Detective Johnston looked incredulous. “I thought we were dealing with a guy who takes every possible precaution to conceal his identity! What kind of a killer gives someone a second chance?”

  Harry shrugged his shoulders.

  “Why would he leave Steven and Charlie alive? Both murders would have been a breeze! Why are they still alive?”

  Harry shook his head. “I don’t know; it doesn’t make sense. What are you going to do now?”

  The detective hesitated. “I guess I should kill you to make sure you don’t contact your friend the Scorpion.”

  Harry scoffed. “He’s not my friend.”

  “He’s enough of a friend to have your partner killed.”

  Harry looked pained. “I feel like shit, but I didn’t have a choice. The Scorpion owns me. If I don’t do his bidding, he’ll kill me. His rules are very simple. He chooses you and you serve him for life.”

  Detective Johnston was unimpressed. “Why shouldn’t I kill you, Harry?”

  “You’re a good cop. You don’t want my death on your conscience. I’m never going to speak with the Scorpion!”

  “Harry, don’t bet that I have a conscience. Where is Steven going?”

  “You know where he’s going,” Harry retorted. “Passenger lists are easy to get.”

  Detective Johnston was getting awfully tired of playing games with the P.I. “If I could get that information, you and the Scorpion could also get that information.”

  “Okay, then let’s assume we both know where Steven is going. Where does that leave us?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  “Well, if you’re going to blow my brains out, you might want to do it sooner rather than later. My employees will begin arriving pretty soon.”

  “Fine, Smartass, who is he seeing in Roatan?”

  “The only person that either Billy or I know there is Pablo Munoz.”

  Detective Johnston smiled.

  “A word of caution, detective,” Harry added. “If Capresi has been invited to Roatan, he’s going as a guest of Pablo. You’re not his guest and you won’t be welcome. Pablo has his own army, and the local government is in his pocket. If you do the wrong thing in Roatan, you will disappear. Be careful who you talk to, what you say and who you piss off, because you have a natural talent for being an asshole!”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Harry smiled. “You’ve got major league balls coming back here. You knew I was bullshitting you yesterday and you swung for the fences. I respect that. But down in Roatan, it’s a dog-eat-dog world and Pablo is The Alpha Dog.”

  Detective Johnston replaced his gun in his holster. “How’d this guy get to be so connected?”

  Harry rubbed his fingers together, making the universal sign for money. “Munoz terrorized people all over the world. He went straight a decade ago. To atone for his sins, he gives a lot of money to charities and to the local government; he’s a local celebrity. But there are still many people who want him dead. That’s why he’s got an army.”

  The detective raised his eyebrows. “Impressive. Maybe I should do some research before I head south of the border. How about giving me a ride back to my hotel?”

  Harry laughed. “Go to hell! I don’t like you that much!”

  Detective Johnston stood to leave. “Now we’re even.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Yesterday you tried to have me run over. Today, I danced on your face. As far as I’m concerned, we’re even!”

  Harry smiled. “It wasn’t personal. I just do the Scorpion’s bidding. He knows about you. If the Scorpion wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. He wanted me to scare you. Why, I don’t know, so you can add yourself to the ‘unexplained list’ along with Steven Capresi.”

  Detective Johnston shivered at the thought that somehow he was now trapped in the Scorpion’s game, playing by the Scorpion’s rules.

  -------------------

  Twenty-two hundred miles southeast of Vegas, a man sat alone in a sports bar in West End Village, Roatan. Dressed in torn, faded blue jeans and a white tee shirt, he admired the ocean view and enjoyed a Cobb salad amidst occasional glances at the soccer match playing above the bar. He always enjoyed visiting this spectacular island, even if it was only for a short stay.

  He gazed at the peaceful ocean. Why was everything so complicated? For a brief moment, he wondered what it would be like to relax and casually stroll along the edge of the tranquil sea; perhaps take a boat out and go sailing. He noted the relaxed demeanors of the other patrons and for a moment, was envious of their mundane existences. That was a luxury never granted to him. Still, there was nothing as exhilarating as the hunt and, like the thrill of a seduction, the more difficult the conquest, the greater the exhilaration when accomplished.

  -------------------

  Detective Johnston needed authorization from his chief to fly to Roatan. “Sandra, this is Johnston. I need to speak with the Chief.” Sandra was one of two receptionists at the switchboard at the precinct.

  “He’s in a real foul mood. We’re all keeping our distance.”

  “Why should this day be different from any other?” he said.

  Sandra laughed. “Hold on and I’ll connect you.”

  Johnston didn’t like his boss, who held the job for less than a year. The Chief was a political animal with ambitions way beyond the police department. He fantasized about being mayor or governor and he meticulously cultivated every relationship that he thought might advance his future aspirations.

  “Dawkins here.”

  “Hey Chief, it’s Johnston.”

  “Hey, Johnston,” the Chief answered in his monotone voice. “What do you want?”

  “I’ve had an exciting morning,” the detective said, hoping to get a rise out of his boss. “And I almost got killed yesterday.”

  “That’s great,” the Chief mumbled, barely listening.

  Detective Johnston continued with his report, undaunted. “I’ve received reliable information that Capresi is headed to Honduras. I want to fly there today and head him off.” He knew this request would get the Chief’s attention.

  “The only place you’re flying is back to New York,” the Chief snapped. “I want your ass back in the office tonight!”

  Detective Johnston grimaced. He loathed this arrogant son-of-a-bitch! “Listen to me, Chief,” he pleaded, “this is important. Let me explain.”

  “Stop whining. You’re not going to Honduras or anywhere else. You’re coming back here!”

  Detective Johnston knew he was fighting a losing battle. “Chief, I think he’s in danger. He’s visiting some major scumbags down there and I think he’s being set up. Give me one more day and I’ll be back tomorrow night!”

  “Get back here today. Drop off your reports in my office and we’ll meet tomorrow. I’ve got someone waiting for me. Have a good trip.”

  Detective Johnston heard an abrupt “click”. What a total asshole, he thought. Steven was on his own now. The detective knew that following Steven to
Roatan would be the end of his career. That, along with the fact that he would need to infiltrate the world of Pablo Munoz made it even less appealing. Hopefully, Steven would manage to stay alive until the detective figured a way to get back into the game.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Pablo and Steven sat on the veranda overlooking the ocean, sampling freshly made conch chowder. Pablo’s luxury estate occupied five acres of tropical paradise bordering the sea. Four bodyguards sat a few yards from their table while three armed guards patrolled the private beach. Pablo sensed Steven’s discomfort with the presence of so much security.

  “I have many friends in Roatan and around the world,” Pablo said, “but I also have enemies.”

  Steven dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

  Pablo pointed to the guards on the beach. “You see these men? They would lay down their lives for me.”

  Steven nodded.

  Pablo laughed. “But life is cheap here. Roatan has a collection of ex-patriots from all corners of the globe searching for a fresh start. Some are fugitives; some are running from enemies. Others are merely searching for their personal Shangri-La or simply trying to disappear.”

  “I think everyone is running from something,” Steven said. “Most just don’t admit it.”

  “What are you running from?”

  “You know about me. I’m running toward someone.”

  “I know nothing about you, at least not yet,” Pablo said.

  Steven studied the face of the older man. Steven could only imagine what he had done to earn his fortune and fierce reputation. “Why is it necessary to know anything about me?” Steven asked.

  Pablo leaned forward in his chair. “You have come seeking an audience with the one man in this world who I trust with my life. I would die for him. I am Joaquin’s gatekeeper and I take my responsibility very seriously.”

  “Does Joaquin need a gatekeeper?”

  “Only with respect to the Scorpion,” Pablo replied. “We fear the Scorpion’s sting.”

  “May I assume that you don’t personally know the Scorpion?”

  “I know his legend and I have worked with him. But we have never actually met.”

  “Then how can you help me?”

  “I cannot personally help you,” Pablo replied. “All I can do is to send you to Joaquin. Very few people know how to find him. That is my value to you and the reason Billy Veeksburn sent you to me. Without Joaquin, your quest ends.”

  “What must I do to get an audience with Joaquin?”

  Pablo smiled. “You must impress me. Remain in Roatan awhile and get a taste of our island.”

  “Impress you?”

  “That is all,” Pablo replied.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing the sights of your paradise,” Steven said, changing the subject. “This is a long way from New York.”

  Pablo laughed. “I have bittersweet memories of New York. Some of my best and worst times were there. That doesn’t matter anymore; I can never return.”

  “What happened in New York?”

  Pablo carefully studied Steven’s face. “Perhaps later we will find the time to discuss New York. For now, we need to get you prepared for tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Steven asked, surprised. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

  Pablo smiled. “Tomorrow morning we will dive ‘El Aquila’. It’s a huge wreck at a depth of one hundred feet. ”

  Steven did not mask his distress. “I tried scuba once many years ago, but I hated it. I certainly don’t plan on reliving that experience.” Steven hesitated, hoping for a sympathetic response, but Pablo only stared at him.

  “Don’t worry. I am an expert diver and I have the most advanced equipment money can buy,” Pablo replied.

  “Pablo, with all due respect, I’m not going scuba diving. I’m a land loving, city boy, and the thought of deep sea diving is completely unappealing.”

  Pablo raised an eyebrow. “That is regrettable. Diving is a rite of passage and a requirement for the information you seek.”

  Steven was astonished. “Are you telling me if I don’t go diving, you won’t help me?”

  “I need to know something about you–something which is meaningful to me. Everything I need to know will be revealed when we dive.”

  Steven thought about his options, knowing there was only one. This was madness but unfortunately Pablo was calling the shots. “Pablo, I’m scared of the ocean, and terrified of diving,” Steven confessed, hoping that this admission might exempt him.

  “You can’t swim?”

  “Sure I can swim. But I prefer large pools, lounge chairs, and waitresses serving piña coladas. That’s my idea of an aquatic adventure!”

  Pablo chuckled. “You are a funny man!”

  “May I at least consider your ultimatum?”

  Pablo grinned. “You amuse me. It’s not an ultimatum, only a request. Take your time to decide.”

  The chef brought a large platter filled with local fruits, surrounding a lobster salad stuffed into its shell.

  Pablo speared a chunk of lobster with his fork. “Enjoy. The boat leaves at eight o’clock sharp. If you’re there, we go diving. If not, we will have lunch again tomorrow before you return to Miami.”

  -------------------

  That night, Steven lay in his bed unable to sleep, agonizing over the imminent confrontation with his fear. He thought about Detective Johnston. He owed him a call. He found his old cell phone and held it, thinking of what he was going to say. The phone rang twice before he heard Johnston’s voice.

  “Steven? Could this possibly be you?” the detective answered sarcastically. He was sitting at the gate waiting for his flight to New York.

  “Hello, Detective,” Steven said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “So far, yes.”

  “You’ve been keeping me busy. How are you enjoying Roatan?”

  “What are you talking about?” Steven stuttered, taken off guard and stalling to collect his thoughts.

  “Well, I assume you are still down in Roatan with Pablo Munoz.”

  Steven was speechless. If Johnston knew about Pablo Munoz and Roatan, who else knew? “Do you want to tell me what you already know so that I can save you time and you can keep me from embarrassing myself?”

  Detective Johnston sensed that Steven was getting nervous and he didn’t want him to hang up. He changed his demeanor. “I know a lot,” the detective replied. “I’ve been following you for a while. As a matter of fact, I’m leaving Las Vegas now.”

  Steven’s heart was racing and he suddenly felt ill. “What are you doing in Vegas?”

  “Following you. I was too late to meet Billy Veeksburn, but I did spend some quality time with Harry Chesney, your cab driver. Did you know Harry and Billy were partners?”

  Steven paused to digest this new information. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, it seems that Harry was the Scorpion’s informant and he was responsible for getting Billy and three women killed at Turtlehead Peak. Chesney told me he had no choice but to betray Billy, because the Scorpion would have gotten the information elsewhere and killed both of them.”

  Steven couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Billy Veeksburn is dead? What happened?”

  Detective Johnston immediately softened his tone when he realized Steven hadn’t known about Billy’s death. He didn’t want to lose Steven. “They found his body at the base of the summit along with the bodies of three women. Each had been shot in the head.”

  “Holy Jesus!” Steven cried. “I saw those women. They were drinking wine when I was talking to Billy. He was going to escort them back to their cars. That’s why he didn’t hike back with me.”

  “The coroner placed their deaths between four and six o’clock in the afternoon.”

  Steven tried to recall the faces of the young women.

  “Are you there?” Detective Johnston asked.

  �
�I’m still here.”

  “I bet you crossed paths with this psycho. Can you remember anyone else you encountered on your hike?”

  Steven remembered the athletic hiker in the baseball cap and glasses inquiring about how many people were at the summit. Steven focused in on the memory like a satellite zooming in on a military target. He recalled the man’s physique and height.

  “Holy shit!” Steven exclaimed. “I actually spoke to him! He was going to the summit. I can’t believe it! I had him in my grasp!”

  “You are extremely lucky to be alive. You should have been the fifth body on that trail.”

  “I guess you know that the man who killed my family is the Scorpion. What else do you know?”

  Detective Johnston considered lying to Steven, but thought better of it. “I also know about Charlie in Chicago, and that after your visit with Charlie, the Scorpion paid him a visit as well.”

  “Oh no,” Steven groaned. “Charlie’s dead too?”

  “No, Steven. That’s what has me puzzled. According to Harry, the Scorpion left Charlie alive.”

  Steven breathed a sigh of relief. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that! Look detective, I’m sorry. I knew you wouldn’t let me do this, so I kept you out of the loop. Don’t give up on me.”

  “Are you telling me you actually may need my help?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where are you going now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying, and I’m sick of playing games with you. I’ll ask you one last time.”

  “I don’t know yet. When I find out tomorrow, I will call you.”

  “Fair enough,” the detective said. “You’d better call me.”

  Steven hung up and closed his eyes. He wondered why he was still alive.

  ____________

  As he surveyed the dark sea, Pablo placed his wine goblet on the railing outside of his bedroom and picked up his cordless phone.

  “Have you arranged the expendables?” the voice on the phone inquired.