Bluewater Enigma: The 13th Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers)

by Charles Dougherty

  He climbed over the railing and took the rope in his right hand, pulling it around his right side and holding it behind his back. He leaned back, easing out rope, letting it take his weight until his body was horizontal, the soles of his feet against the edge of the balcony. Grasping the tight part of the line with his left hand, he bent his knees and pushed himself away from the balcony, rappelling from balcony to balcony.

  When Montalba reached the pool deck, he untied one end of the rope from the canvas bag and began pulling the other end, feeding the rope he retrieved into the bag. After he'd taken in a few yards, the weight of the remaining rope pulled the loose end up to where it was looped around the railing. The rest of the rope fell at his feet and he gathered it into the bag.

  He picked up the bag and slipped through the dense hedge that separated the pool deck from the sea wall along the Intracoastal Waterway. He found the kayak he'd secured to the sea wall and climbed down into it, paddling away in the darkness.

  One of the uniformed officers accompanying Luke Pantene and the two detectives banged on the door of unit 7E. When there was no response, he knocked again. "Police," he bellowed. "Open up. We have a warrant for your arrest."

  There was still no response.

  Luke turned to the security guard, who held a ring of keys. "Unlock it, please."

  The security guard unlocked the door and stepped back. Luke turned the knob and pushed the door until it was stopped by a security chain. He took a step back and raised his leg, kicking the door and ripping out the screws holding the chain. The door swung open and he and the two detectives entered the unit, guns drawn.

  "Jesus," one of the detectives said stopping at the sight of a man sprawled face up on the floor. "What the hell did that to his face?"

  "Looks like raw hamburger," his partner said. "And they blew the back of his skull away, too."

  "Call the M.E.," Luke said. He had stepped around them and was standing in the living room. "We've got another one in here. Looks like he ate his gun. Let's get out of here and wait for the crime scene techs and the M.E. There's nobody else in here."

  They went back into the hall, and one of the detectives made the call. "Ten or fifteen minutes," he said, putting his phone away.

  "Okay. While you wait, get on the horn and order up as many uniforms as you can find. I'll authorize overtime. Give them copies of the sketch and have them start canvassing the neighbors. Maybe somebody saw or heard something."

  "Did you get a look at the weapon, captain?"

  "Yes. Forty-five semi-automatic, with a suppressor. Why?"

  "I was wondering about gunshots and thinking somebody had to hear them."

  "All we can do is ask. Until forensics gets the pistol in the lab, we won't know how loud it was with the suppressor. Or how many shots were fired, either, until they get through with the scene."

  "Right."

  "Okay," Luke said. "I'm going back to the office and get things moving. Call if you get anything exciting."

  30

  "It had to be LaRosa," the detective said.

  Luke Pantene took a sip of his sour, lukewarm coffee. His eyes felt gritty from having been up all night. "Yeah, it looks that way to me. The only prints on the pistol were his; the door was chained from the inside. The sliding door to the balcony was locked, and anyway that's 100 feet from the ground. The big question is why he did it."

  "No telling why he ate his gun," the detective said. "There's never a clear answer to that. But destroying that poor bastard's face like that, that's some kind of crazy. That's love-gone-wrong kinda shit. I never figured LaRosa was gay, so they musta been crossways about a woman."

  "Well, they knew one another," Luke said. "Roberts was renting that place from LaRosa. But Roberts is a puzzle. You said none of the neighbors knew him?"

  "That's what we got from the canvassing. Nobody ever even saw him. But they all said that's not unusual, either. Living in a high-rise condo is like that. It ain't the same as living in a house in a neighborhood. None of the neighbors see one another except at social gatherings and condo association meetings, and several of them said most renters don't go to those things. They're kinda second-class citizens, the renters are. He just about had to be Berto, though. Roberts, Berto? Don't you think?"

  "We don't even know for sure that the second corpse is Roberts," Luke said. "All we've got is the driver's license and credit cards from his wallet."

  "Yeah, and the driver's license is a fake," the detective said.

  "No shit?" Luke asked. "You didn't tell me that."

  "Yeah. Sorry; guess I'm punchy. We ran it after you left the scene. Completely bogus."

  "It was a good one, then. It fooled me."

  "Yeah, me too. The photo on it's a pretty close match for that sketch you got from the Lennox broad. Not perfect, but it's the same guy. Gotta be."

  "Besides a crime of passion, the other reason LaRosa might have destroyed his face is to slow down the identification," Luke said.

  "But why do that if you're gonna leave his i.d. in his wallet?"

  "Good question," Luke said. "Maybe LaRosa wanted us to think the corpse was Roberts instead of somebody else."

  "Why would LaRosa give a shit what we thought if he was gonna blow his own brains out?"

  Luke shook his head. "Who knows? LaRosa probably wasn't thinking too clearly. Be interesting to see what the M.E. finds in his blood stream. Maybe he was high on something."

  "Maybe, but everything we know about him points to him being a dealer, not a user."

  "Yeah," Luke said. "We got prints from Roberts yet?"

  "Yeah. We put a rush on that, like you asked. He's not in the system."

  "Shit," Luke said. "So all the i.d. we've got for him is a fake driver's license. Anything from records under his name?"

  "Nope."

  "What about the contents of the condo?" Luke asked. "What did they find there?"

  "Laptop computer, a locked iPhone, personal effects. He wasn't living there. No clothes in the closet, nothing in the kitchen but a few dishes, and a coffee maker. No groceries except coffee stuff and some soft drinks in the fridge. It looked like one of those temporary corporate apartment places."

  "No luggage?"

  "Nothing but the computer case, and it was empty except for the laptop."

  "What about the laptop?"

  "The techs were going over it downstairs when I came in. Want me to call them?"

  "I got it," Luke said, picking up the phone and speaking in a soft tone. "They're almost done; not much there, but they'll bring it up in a few minutes," he said.

  "While we're waiting, did you get any more from that confidential source of yours? The one that tipped us to watch the building for Berto?"

  "Yeah," Luke said. "But it's not usable. Not that it matters. It doesn't tell us anything worth knowing. They had an illegal tap on somebody's cellphone. They're pretty sure that Berto was really Guillermo Montalba, but that doesn't help, either."

  "No?" the detective asked. "You run him? This Montalba?"

  "Yeah," Luke said. "They had enough more for me to narrow the search a little, but it went nowhere. There's no such person as this Guillermo Montalba; he never existed. Another enigma, like Roberts. Or maybe the same as Roberts."

  "Excuse me, Captain," a small man with thick spectacles said, pausing at the door to Luke's office. "You wanted to know about the laptop from the LaRosa scene?"

  "Yes, come in."

  The man put the laptop on the edge of Luke's desk and opened it. While they waited for it to boot, he said, "There's not much on here, not even any software, except the stuff that came on it. Looks like it was used for browsing the web, and checking web-based email accounts, but there are no passwords, so we can't tell much about that. There's one text file that looks like a memo, and that's it."

  "Show us the memo, please," Luke said.

  The man clicked on a file that was labeled "draft report - Vengeance." A couple of paragraphs filled the screen. Luke
and the detective read the file.

  "Could you print that out for me?" Luke asked.

  "Sure thing." The man tapped on the touch pad. "Let me just step out to the printer and pick that up for you."

  "Did that mean anything to you?" Luke asked, while they were waiting.

  "Wasn't that the yacht that Berto supposedly had stolen? Vengeance?" the detective asked.

  "Yeah," Luke said shaking his head.

  "Cheer up, boss. At least we got an easy solve on this one."

  "How's that?" Luke asked. "We've got more questions than answers."

  "Yeah, that's true, but none of 'em matter, when you think about it. LaRosa killed Roberts, or Montalba, or whoever the hell he was, and then blew his brains out. We got a dead scumbag that we never managed to pin anything on, and a dead man who never existed to begin with. On top of that, they're in a room locked from the inside. It don't get much more obvious than that. Case closed. The rest of it's just bullshit, right?"

  "Yeah, but we should still learn what we can about the rest of it," Luke said. "You never know. The 'why' part might matter later on. But you're right from the standpoint of closing the case. There's not much there. Why don't you grab that printout from the tech and go drop it in the file? I need to make a phone call or two."

  "It's Luke," Dani said, slipping her cellphone from her pocket. She and Liz and Beverly sat on Phillip and Sandrine's veranda. They were lingering over the remains of a big breakfast that Liz and Sandrine had prepared.

  "Good morning, Luke. You have the whole crowd," Dani said, answering the call. "Is that all right?"

  "Sure," Luke said, yawning audibly. "Excuse me; I'm coming down off an all-nighter."

  "Did you get the email?" Dani asked. "The one we sent about Guillermo Montalba being Graciella's brother?"

  "Yes. Thanks for that. Things spun out of control about the time I saw it. I haven't gotten a look at it yet; I just skimmed it. Let me bring you up to speed."

  "Okay, please do. We've all been wondering what was going on."

  "Well, I'm not sure I can help you with that, but here's what I know." Luke summarized what had happened to LaRosa and the other man. "We're guessing he was Berto, or Montalba, assuming they were the same person," he said, wrapping up his explanation.

  "No positive identification on the other man, then?" Phillip asked.

  "No, I'm afraid that's a dead end. As the lead detective said, at least it's an easy close. One scumbag killed a guy who didn't exist and then blew his own brains out. And he was thoughtful enough to do it in a place that was locked from the inside, to keep us from thinking someone else might have been involved."

  "That is too simple," Sandrine said. "This never happens. Always, there must be something left to investigate, yes?"

  "Yes," Dani said. "And there is something that's unexplained, here."

  "You mean about why it had to be Vengeance?" Luke asked.

  "Exactly," Dani said. "That's a loose end."

  "One of them left a laptop," Luke said, "we think it was Berto, but it could have been LaRosa."

  "Aha!" Sandrine said. "And what was on it, this laptop?"

  "A draft report about the installation of the surveillance gear on Vengeance," Luke said. "It mentions that Vengeance is a sister ship of Diamantista II, and that you know Connie and Paul. Also that you use the same charter broker and both focus on charters in the eastern Caribbean. That's about it, except for the particulars of the surveillance system, and where Vengeance was stolen from and where she was left."

  Dani choked on a piece of melon, grabbing a napkin and coughing as Liz pounded her on the back. She sat up, red-faced, and waved Liz away. Taking a swallow of orange juice, she said, "I'm okay, thanks. Sorry about that."

  "Is there any way to identify the body that might be Berto?" Phillip asked.

  "It's not looking good," Luke said. "His prints aren't in the system. The M.E. says the face was destroyed by several .45 hollow points at close range. The bones are all shattered so badly they can't even do a forensic reconstruction. All we've got is a fake driver's license."

  "Is there some way I could help?" Beverly asked. "I did meet Berto, twice. I could look at a picture, or something."

  "Thanks, Beverly, but there's no way looking at the corpse will help," Luke said. "Unless … "

  "Unless what?" Beverly asked.

  "Was there anything distinctive about him that you noticed?" Luke asked. "Tattoos, scars, missing fingers? Anything at all?"

  "Yes, now that you mention it," Beverly said. "His right hand – the inside of it was all scar tissue. It was hard and slick. I noticed it when he took my hand, and then I saw that he couldn't quite straighten his fingers. When we were eating, they all kind of moved like they were stuck together, like claws. But the back of his hand seemed normal."

  "Okay," Luke said. "That's great. I'll pass that along to the M.E. Anything else?"

  "The recording," Beverly said. "That was his voice."

  "Right," Luke said. "You identified his voice and Manny's."

  "Not that one," she said. "The one we sent you last night."

  "What? I missed something," Luke said. "You sent me a recording?"

  "It was attached to the email," Dani said. "The one you said you didn't get a good look at yet. It's Graciella Montalba and Guillermo Montalba, and she acknowledges that he's her brother."

  "Oh, shit," Luke said. "How's the quality?"

  "It's great," Beverly said. "I had no problem recognizing his voice."

  "Berto's voice?" Luke asked.

  "Right. But she called him Guillermo."

  "Damn," Luke said. "We can run voice prints on that and the other one. And maybe I can get a public sample of Graciella's voice to match against it, too. But I'm still screwed."

  "Why?" Dani asked.

  "There's no way that recording you sent me will be admissible anywhere," Luke said. "But I'll still run it by the state's attorney. Who knows? Do you have anything else that I don't know about?"

  "No, I don't think so," Dani said. "What's next?"

  "I'll get the info on Berto's hand to the M.E. and listen to the recording you sent. Then I'm going to crash for a few hours. I'll call you late this afternoon."

  Everyone was sitting on Phillip and Sandrine's veranda, watching the sunset and sipping wine.

  "Why would anyone ever live anywhere but here?" Beverly asked, as the sky turned crimson.

  "Because they don't know how wonderful it is here," Dani said. "Don't tell; there are too many people in the islands already."

  "What's next for you, Beverly?" Liz asked. "Are you still thinking about going back and finishing that master's degree?"

  "Someday, but I need to chill for a little while. And Sandrine and I have some shopping to do. She's found this shop that has a slinky dress she wants to show me. It's for her, though. I'm done with slinky clothes. I'm going conservative from here on out. Fresh and clean; that's the new me."

  "And the shoes," Sandrine said. "You must not forget the shoes. And we must look for the clothes for work, too."

  "Work?" Phillip asked. "But you already have plenty of clothes for the office."

  "Not for me," Sandrine said. "For Beverly. She will be teaching the American English for my people and the police. I have already the permission; we are looking for someone since one month, and now we have Beverly. She will start as soon as we are scheduling people."

  "That's great," Liz said. "You said you've wanted to see Martinique ever since you were in college. You got your wish."

  "Thanks to all of you," Beverly said. "I'm still not sure this is real."

  "It is real," Sandrine said. "You have the contract already signed, and we have arranged the apartment for you in two days. It is the done deal, no?"

  "Sounds done to me," Dani said. "Congratulations, Beverly."

  "Thanks so much, all of you. I – "

  The ringing of Dani's cellphone interrupted Beverly.

  "Hello, Luke," Dani said. "Did you
get some sleep?"

  "A little, yes, thanks. Is everyone there?"

  "Yes," Dani said. "What's new?"

  "Well, let's see. The body that we found with LaRosa has no scars inside either hand, so he's not Berto. That's one thing. The voice prints match up; the man Beverly identified as Berto is the same one Graciella Montalba called Guillermo on the recording you sent me. And we matched her voice on the recording to a snippet from a speech she gave at a charity function a few months ago."

  "That's great news, then," Liz said. "What happens next?"

  "We're looking for Guillermo Montalba, but he's nowhere to be found."

  "But his sister must know where he is, or at least how to get in touch with him," Dani said.

  "Maybe," Luke said. "But we don't have any way to leverage that yet. The state's attorney wants no part of that recording, so we can't touch Graciella."

  "You mean it's going nowhere?" Beverly asked.

  "I wouldn't say that," Luke said. "We know she has a brother, and we know he was involved in the plot to blackmail Velasquez, and that he had Vengeance stolen. We're going to be watching her from now on. Guillermo did say he'd be in touch with her. When he shows himself, we'll nail him. This isn't over yet."

  "How frustrating," Beverly said.

  "Never mind," Dani said. "You're on your way to a better life, and Liz and I have Vengeance."

  "But why did Guillermo Montalba have her stolen?" Liz asked.

  "That's a real enigma, isn't it?" Dani said, an evil grin on her face. "I'm going to have the pleasure of making him tell us one day."

  The end

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