by Ed Teja
Hours passed before the scene was cleared, and the doctor took Nick away to put in what passed for a morgue where he could join his buddy. I was sure Nate was still there. With all that had gone on, no one had spent much time worrying about what to do with his body.
“Get out of here,” Inspector George told Jeff and Gazele. “Later I might need you to make statements, but not now.” He rubbed his face. “Probably never.”
They drifted off and he led Bill and I back to his office. “We got problems,” he said.
“Besides having the prisoner murdered?” I said as we sat down.
“At this moment, that’s not much more than an inconvenience.”
I could see his point.
One of the constables who’d been so rattled at seeing Nick die right in front of him hovered uncertainly in the doorway of the office. He was torn up and had no idea what to do with himself. The inspector saw him to and snapped out an order. “Well, son, get your ass out there and find where the shot came from.”
“What you mean?” he asked.
“Scout the area. try to find out where the shooter was when it happened. Look around for evidence… rifle cartridges, anything left behind. Hell, if the shooter was trying to make a getaway, they might have left the rifle behind and I don’t want someone walking away with it.”
“Yes sir,” he said.
“Thing like this… it’s hard on them boys,” Inspector George said as the man left. “They trying hard, and they are brave enough, but they are used to people fist fighting and such. They can deal fine with one man knifing another now and then or someone trying to take a man’s head off with a machete is bad enough.” He shook his head. “This kind of killing is something altogether different. It’s more violent and premeditated, and it being the second one, that is a bit much for them.”
“So you sent him on a wild goose chase?”
He nodded toward the door. “I don’t think he’s gonna find a damn thing that is useful. I’m just hoping that being out searching will give him something to put his mind to and he can stop seeing Nick’s brains.”
“We can hope they get over it and never have to deal with this kind of thing again,” I said. “I wish I believed that was the case.”
“The world is changing,” the inspector said, “and not in good ways. We are going to have to teach them more. That’s part of why I’m here.”
“What do you mean?” Bill asked.
“These boys got trained to deal with tourists who get lost, or think they got cheated; they know how to react when folk steal wallets and watches, but this…” His face grew sad. “As these islands attract more people, try to build things up, it brings the bad with the good. I’m afraid the bad don’t go home as easily as the regular tourists. Even if we catch the bad people, this isn’t the end of it.”
“Well, you work with what you have,” Bill said.
“You and Jeff ran off,” the inspector said.
“Trying to see if we could catch a glimpse of someone running off, anything like that.”
“Did you find anything?”
He shook his head. “The shot was fired downward,” Bill said. “The shooter upstairs somewhere, well out of sight. We tore down some alleys, but no luck.”
“Whoever it was did a nice job of making a reasonably long shot from a concealed position,” I said. “Seems someone has read up on how to be a sniper.”
“Or someone was a sniper,” Bill said. “And came out of retirement for this special occasion.”
As that was one of the less pleasant alternatives, I didn’t want to think about it. Unfortunately, he was right.
When the second constable who’d been at the dock wandered in looking for direction, the inspector was happy to oblige. “Check out empty places on upper floors with a view of the dock,” he said. “Offices for rent, abandoned storage places, everything. If you find where the shot came from, or the place you think it might have come from, stay there and seal it off. I want the space secured so we can check for evidence, especially fingerprints.”
Eager to have something constructive to do, the constable saluted and dashed off.
Inspector George turned his attention to us. “Well, seeing that Nate was already dead, we’ve got ourselves an epidemic of suspects dying off.”
“Killing each other off,” Bill said.
That did seem like and accurate description of what was happening. The inspector nodded glumly. “That leaves us that Donna woman as the last surviving suspect. It has to be her,” he said.
I agreed. “I’d pick her for this one. That doesn’t mean she killed Warren Davis, but I’m not sure that his death matters so much at this point..”
“And she’s got a rifle,” Bill said.
“It ain’t legal to have no long gun on St. Anne,” the inspector said with a sad shake of his head. I could tell the influx of weapons bothered him. Hell, it bothered me. “So, she must’ve been brought it in on that sailboat.”
“On one of them,” I said. “Either she took it ashore and stashed it before Nate arrived, or she stole one from Nate’s boat at some point.”
“Makes sense,” the inspector said. “I like the idea that she stashed it early on. My men searched WANDERER through and through. They didn’t find one, and there is no way she got back on that boat, anyway. And, if she was planning to kill our VIP, that would make the most sense. Once the gun is safely ashore, she doesn’t have to worry about being seen with it.”
“It must be some place where she can get at it easily, but it’s hard to find. Maybe we should be asking around about a woman carrying a package about the size of a rifle.”
He nodded. “I can have the men checking that area see if anyone saw anything. I’m hoping to come up with something that will be useful, with luck, something that would tie her to this killing. I can arrest her for suspicion of two murders, but don’t have any hard evidence yet.”
Luck wasn’t something to count on in a situation like this. “Even if you do find evidence that would hold up in court, that isn’t going to solve the immediate problem of figuring out her plan — and stopping her.”
“True enough. But my job includes securing the crime scene and preserving any evidence as well as preserving the peace. But you are right that getting evidence isn’t much help in finding and stopping that woman. She’s one ruthless killer.”
“You are thinking about Nate’s ticking clock,” I said.
He nodded. “Damn right I am. And it all seems pretty clear to me now. These people showing up right when they did must be related to the grudge the mob has against the visitor arriving tomorrow. There isn’t anything else that would draw them here.” He scratched his head. “What I still don’t get is why they stirred up such a fuss amongst themselves. They are supposed to be professionals, but killers fighting each other, trying to get each other arrested doesn’t much fit in with a smart plan for an assassination where you plan to get away with it.”
“Yeah. You have to wonder why Donna was running from the others. And I believe that part of her story.”
“So many parts of so many stories,” the inspector said. He pointed to a stack of papers. “I made some inquiries and checked these people out.”
“Learn anything?”
“I didn’t get much. As far as I can determine, Donna didn’t escape from a mental hospital. There haven’t been any such escapes recently. And, to cover bases, I asked about someone trying to offer evidence against a mob hit man, and came up with nothing there either.”
“Well, that’s not really a surprise.”
“But here is the thing… My contacts tell me that not one of those three is who they claim to be. There is no record of a passport ever being issued to a Donna or Nate Devro. And this Nick character, well based on his description, he does exist, and it seems the law-enforcement people in New York will be sad to hear of his death. because he is wanted for questioning related to a variety of unnamed mob activities
.”
“Well, no one suggested he was here because he won a salesman of the year contest.”
The inspector hunched over his papers. “So explain this sophisticated mob stuff to a simple island cop. If Donna came here so she would be in place when the VIP arrived, so she could kill him, why did she try to take off? Where was she thinking of going on that damn boat?”
“Nowhere,” Bill laughed.
“What you mean, nowhere?” the inspector asked.
Bill sat back, organizing his thoughts. “Think about it from her perspective. Say, she came to kill the man, like you say, and managed to arrange things with this Warren Davis character to get here, probably providing her with a pistol and a rifle. Now, being a person who plans ahead, she knows security will ramp up just before the VIPs arrive, so takes the rifle ashore and stashes it somewhere. She doesn’t want to be seen strolling over to the town square with it on speech day.”
“So far you making sense,” the inspector said.
Bill settled into his narrative. “I don’t know the exact timeline, but at some point, she spotted Nate and Nick. Forget all the bullshit about whether he’s her boyfriend or husband and stick to what we know — she knew them on sight and knew they represented a threat. To her. I don’t know if they intended to kill her or not, but say she came here to kill Miller and knows they intend to stop her.”
“But why would they stop her? They are mob people too.”
“I can guess,” Bill said, shrugging, “but right now their motives don’t matter much. Anyway, after she saw them, she went back to the boat, wanting to get underway. She had no interest in leaving the island; she did need them to think she’d run off.”
I agreed. “That fits with her feeble attempt to get me to take her away.”
“I’m guessing she expected to find some safe little cove to anchor in, sort of like the one Nick found. If she had the rifle stashed safely, then it wouldn’t be a big deal to sneak back across land. Hell, she could catch a bus and come to town whenever she wanted.”
“And if the Hardy boys think she left the island, she would be left to assassinate the man in peace.”
The inspector’s mind raced ahead. “Okay. So, when she got back to the boat to make this fake escape, either she found Nate had killed Warren Davis, or she killed him so she could take his boat.”
Bill rubbed his hands together. “Exactly. I love it when smart people agree that the facts conform to my theory.”
“That being a rare and wonderful thing,” I said.
The door burst open and the young policeman the inspector had sent out to search came staggering back in, his face drawn. “Inspector, Inspector — Constable Clyde is dead!”
Inspector George jumped to his feet. “What happened?”
“Shot dead.”
“What happened?”
“I found he dead. You telling me to search around and I asking folk what they heard and saw… some folks said they thinking the shot came from an abandoned office. They say Constable Clyde was around when the shot go off, and him went running that direction, so I go running too. When I get there, I find someone stuck him in between a couple of dumpsters in the alley below, bleeding like all get out. The doctor come, but by the time he get there, Clyde was dead. The Doctor says someone shot him square in the chest. He never stood a chance.”
The inspector put his hand on the constable’s shoulder. “Take a breath, boy. Take it easy as you can — you did good.”
The young constable, who couldn’t be over twenty-one, was suffering and my heart went out to him as he nodded weakly. “Yes sir, but Clyde still dead, just the same.”
The inspector sighed. “I understand. Listen, I want you to take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow you’ll have to file a report, so write down any details you can remember as you remember them. Understand?”
“Yes, sir. But why would someone — ”
“He was on patrol in that area when the shooting happened, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Clyde was a diligent police officer. He would have heard the shot and gone to investigate it. He probably came across the killer and tried to make an arrest.”
“And that would be fatal is she is a professional. I’m sure she wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in her way.”
The constable was near tears. “You go home now, constable. I will need you rested tomorrow. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then go.” As the constable left, Inspector George rubbed his chin. “Well, that does it. At this point, I don’t much care who killed that man Warren Davis or Nick. We can sort out all the who killed who after we stop her and either have her in jail or with her friends in the morgue. That boy was a good officer. It makes me sick that I have to go talk to his Momma now. Believe me, I don’t want her killing more folk.”
“Plus…” Bill said. “… the only way to make certain that this ugly little man from Miami, and I can only assume he is as ugly as homemade sin, doesn’t get his blood splattered all over the minister is to catch Donna before she finishes the job she apparently came here to do.”
The inspector slumped back in his chair. “The fact of her having a long gun sure as hell complicates things.”
“How?” Bill asked.
“Protocol,” I said. “They have certain things they are required to do that suit the locale and typical situations.”
The inspector nodded. “On an island like this, where we don’t normally have to worry about professional assassins, VIP protection is mostly a matter of rounding up malcontents and checking the route for hazards. For the unseen, and unexpected, we establish some sweet perimeter security. The idea is for my men to create a safe distance around the VIPs.”
Bill nodded. “And if she’s out there with a rifle that won’t cover the bases.”
The inspector shook his head. “There’s not really enough time or manpower to expand the protection to deal with that kind of threat.”
“I’m surprised,” I said.
“Long guns aren’t legal on the islands, so we aren’t prepared for stopping a sniper.”
“The situation is still manageable,” I said.
He looked at me. “How?”
I gave him a steady stare. “Are you willing to accept professional help?”
The amazing, curious eyebrow raised. “That depends. What would that entail?”
“Authorizing Bill and I to work the sniper angle.”
“How?”
“The route the VIPs will follow is short and ends at the square, correct?”
He nodded. “And once the party starts, they hop back on the coast guard boat and return to the civilized comforts of St. Agnes.”
“The island offers a limited number of locations that will provide a sniper with a clear shot, and besides offering that, they need to offer the shooter some privacy. She will need to get a rifle to that location and be settled in. She’ll need to be able to calculate the distance and windage at the time of the shot. She’d also need to pick a spot that allows her to make an escape. I seriously doubt this is a suicide mission. She will want to take out the target with a single shot and make her escape.”
“You sound like you know what you are talking about.”
I smiled. “I’m not a sniper, but I’ve worked with them, provided support. If you really want her stopped, I’m willing to put that knowledge to work. It’s partly my fault she’s here.”
“You wouldn’t have left her on the reef if she’d told you she was here to assassinate the Pope,” Bill said.
I groaned, thinking that he was probably right.
Inspector George looked at me. “Look here Martin, I’m a good cop, but catching people like this ain’t proper police work.” He let out a breath. “So, if you are volunteering, I would be happy to have you both step up and help out.”
“I want to help,” I said. For once, Bill didn’t growl.
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br /> “Good.”
I glanced at Bill. “Before we agree to move ahead, I need to make one thing clear, Inspector. I want you to understand the precise nature of my training. The methods my government taught me, well, they are not optimized for arresting people.”
“You brought in Nick… almost… and didn’t kill Nate.”
“No, but in those cases, the situation was actually more or less in control and the real conflict didn’t involve me. If Bill and I go out hunting a sniper, I expect we will find her. The problem is what happens then. As with your constable, it seems likely she will fight if cornered. She’ll have no desire to give herself up. And, if things go sideways, if it comes down to a fight — well, I fight to win, and that means I don’t even try to subdue my opponents. I take them out. That could require some explanation to your superiors in the aftermath. I need you to be good with that. If you can’t accept that I shoot to kill, maybe I’d fit better in a consulting role. I’m willing to do that, but it would be a far less effective use of my skills.”
The inspector turned it all over for a bit. “I might not like that. In fact, I certainly don’t. But I understand what you are saying. I wouldn’t normally sanction, or even approve of that approach, but this woman already killed one of my men in cold blood and I want her stopped.”
“I think we can do that.”
“The truth is, with all that has happened and is happening, I don’t much care what that takes. And now I’m not so much thinking of protecting some asshole from Miami, or making this minister happy, but the need to protect the people of we island from these crazy people. And you are right, my officers are good men, but this isn’t what we trained for. Not even me. So if you are willing, I gladly accept the help.”
The look in his eyes told me everything — especially that he’d be really pleased if he didn’t have to spend a lot of time finding evidence to convict anyone of the constable’s murder. I shared the feeling, and I knew Bill did too. “In that case, with our new understanding, I’m glad to help,” I told him.
“In that case, what you need to make this happen? Can you use my men, if only as eyes and ears?”
