Clint Faraday Mysteries collection A Muddled Murders Collector's Edition

by Moulton, CD

  “In David. Not here. You can go to El Critico at night. They have a casino, bar and restaurant. It’s an expensive whorehouse.”

  “Any good deals for investment here?” Clint asked when Downy and Abel were close.

  “Depends on what you want,” Obilio answered. “I suppose there are things that would interest gringos. Land deals and that kind of thing.”

  Clint thanked him, nodded at Downy and Abel and went toward the pier. Abel said something to Downy and they turned to follow him. He stopped at the entrance to the pier and Abel asked if they could have a word with him. He said they couldn’t help but overhear him asking about investments.

  He shrugged and said he’d been warned about dealing with gringo real estate agents. They said they were just investors and were looking into some things. They might have found a deal or two he would find interesting. They introduced themselves. Clint said he was Denton Hanrady, from Georgia.

  “I’m always interested in things that have a decent potential for returns. I tend to take long shots if I’ve investigated them enough to be sure they’re not the common scams or some idea that’s too far ahead of its time.”

  “Too far ahead? I don’t understand?” Abel suggested.

  “Well, my father invested in Atari when it was just a new idea. He died three months before the breakthrough. It was fortunate for my sister and me that he did, but he could have invested the same money in several things at that time that would have made something for him.”

  “Oh. I see what you’re saying. No hardwood farms that won’t even be harvestable for eighty or ninety years. Something for the grandkids, but not for your own investment. You won’t be around to turn it over!”

  “Yes. And I won’t have any grandkids. I’m past the time I want a family. I just want to do something that could fund a school or hospital or that kind of thing. My immortality won’t be through progeny, it’ll be through memorable acts.”

  “You would have to build quite a portfolio for that kind of thing!” Downy said. “You’d need something that would return a huge profit over an extended period.

  “Listen. We have a project an associate from the states seems to have stumbled on not far from here. A little east and over near the Costa Rican border. It has the potential of literally millions to one on an investment.

  “I can’t say more because word mustn’t get out yet, but we have the permitting process almost completed. You have to get the concession from the government for some things.

  “It’s being sold only on percentages. We have confirmation from experts who’re in the business of locating such finds. This was found by accident by our partner and his girlfriend when they were whi ... following a favorite sport.

  “I’ve said too much already. Almost all the percentages have been sold. I think there’s only about seven or eight percent left by now and a group are coming today or tomorrow who want to purchase that percentage. They’ve already gotten confirmation about the, er, that the product is actually there and in the amounts we’ve estimated.

  “It’s not cheap. We have to take it out of the earth. That’s what the investment is there for. To extract the product. It’s an expensive proposition, but the returns are as much as phenomenal!”

  “There aren’t any mineral lodes here in large deposits, certainly not gold or silver,” Clint said with a hard look of suspicion at them. “I’m not some green idiot!”

  “No! This is worth more than gold or silver in today’s world!” Downy cried.

  “Uranium? I guess it’s possible. Not enough platinum in concentrated lodes to make mining it profitable. Cinnabar doesn’t have that much value anymore since the damage to the environment is so much better understood.

  “Really? I know there’s some oil down near Venezuela, but not enough to.... It would have to be. I heard there’s a lost seepage area some botanists came across either just inside Panamá or just inside of Costa Rica. It’s not likely ... but stranger things have happened. I’d take one hell of a lot of convincing on something like that.”

  “We can convince you with just the surveys and expert assessments,” Downy suggested. “We’d rather have as few people involved as possible. We understand the people coming are a little investment group. They won’t know anything about this kind of thing and will be no end of headaches. It isn’t cheap. That would be the first giveaway if it was a scam. Fifty thousand per percent.”

  “Three fifty grand? Hmm. I have a bit more than that to do a bit of speculation with. I will take one hell of a lot of convincing. I was almost taken in by some clever crooks back in the states with a scheme to reopen some wells in Texas and Louisiana. It would have to sell for five hundred a barrel to make anything.

  “I have an appointment in the morning. Perhaps we could meet around noon?”

  “We can go over to the office now,” Abel suggested. “I know our partner is there doing some work on the permits and concessions. We have a man who’s in tight with the government agencies. He gets things done.”

  Clint shrugged and they headed for Batty’s office where Yvon and Vern were having a little cocktail hour. Clint saw Monica a block away, heading toward her rental. Vern gave him a look, then grinned and said he was glad to meet him. The others went into Batty’s office and Vern said to ditch the ring. He’d noticed it several times because it WASN’T flashy like these cruds wore. Clint looked surprised and said he’d never made that kind of mistake before. Thanks.

  “It’s a scam?” Vern asked.

  “I think so. We’re okay?”

  Vern grinned and said it would be fun. He didn’t like those people and Yvon and Monica were all over him now. They thought he would have all that MUNNEEE from Sally. They made him sick!

  Batty came to tell him to come in. He had some things to show him. He introduced himself and said Abel had told him I was Denton Hanrady?

  “Yes. Mother’s family name was Denton so they named me after that. Her father was Denton D. Denton. I suppose he was fortunate his middle name was Daniel.”

  They gave that a little “ha-ha-ha” and Batty said he resembled a friend in Bocas. Clint Faraday.

  “So I’m told. Some people in Santiago said the same thing. Fellow came from Florida.

  “Let’s understand each other about this deal. I’m not going to be easy to convince. I know how to read most survey readouts and have been exposed to about every scam you can imagine here.

  “I’m not accusing you of anything here. Even if it is a scam you’re probably on the wrong end of it yourselves. There are some very good con men here.”

  “We hope you’re that good!” Abel agreed. “We want every suspicion done away with ourselves. As you say, if it’s a scam we’re due for a very unpleasant shock for what we already invested. I have almost a million and so does Sam and so does Batty.

  “This is simply a survivor’s compact until it’s completed. One person has already died – which is why there is any stock available to sell at all.”

  “Died? When? Who? I heard there was a woman murdered here, but that it was about counterfeit money.”

  “Oh, yes. Very sad thing,” Downy said. “Sally was an investor, but her husband is still here and was on the papers with her so he’s still in.

  “The man who died was John Griffin, an investor from San Diego, California. He had a long-term heart condition and died just a month ago or a little more of acute heart failure.”

  They chatted a moment more. Batty took the same sonic maps he’d seen in Panamá City out and said the site was found by accident, blah, blah, blah. They had paid a well-known expert to map the area and they had found this.

  Clint studied the map a minute, shrugged and said, “Sulfur? What the hell!? At that depth you couldn’t hope to get your investment back, much less make a profit! What the hell is this crap? I SAID I’m no greenhorn! Christ!”

  Abel looked like he was going to be the next to die of acute heart failure. Downy was staring at the map with his mouth hangin
g open. Yvon’s eyes were wide and her face was showing almost sheer terror. Batty didn’t know whether to faint or try to explain. His eyes said he was the one pulling the scam. He was thinking a mile and a half a minute.

  “But ... but! NO!” Batty cried, after a few seconds. “There’s some mistake! Our engineer said there’s a huge pool of crude oil there. Right here, see? A mountainous dome of pure crude oil!”

  “No, no. Crude is viscous and rather muting at that pressure and temperature. Sulfur is just before liquid and carries the sonic impulses quite differently.

  “See these numbers? That’s sulfur, dead cert! Whatever made you think there was oil ... that’s almost right on Volcan Baru’! There’s nothing but a little near-surface seepage in a volcanic area!”

  Batty got a jar of thick oil from a cabinet and whined, “This was taken where it seeps onto some rocks just to the west of the dome! Arnold swore it was a dome of pure crude. Tens of millions of barrels of pure crude!”

  “Bill Arnold from Texas? I think I met him a year or so ago. Mapping Chiriqui. There’s some zinc in the area.”

  “But he’s a partner in this. He swore it’s a legitimate find!” Abel gasped. “Oh, dear God! Oh, God!”

  “I think I see what’s going on here,” Batty hissed. “He found this and is collecting the funds, then will claim it was all a big mistake and we’re SOOOO sorry we spent all your money drilling, but I was CERTAIN it was oil! Oh, what will become of my reputation for making such a HUGE mistake!”

  “The engineer gets the funds?” Clint asked, looking around at them like they were a bunch of idiots.

  “He’s co-treasurer. He needs funds to hire the drilling crew as soon as the permits are done,” Yvon said. “I have my whole life’s savings tied up in this! We HAVE to get our money back!”

  “Well, I hired Clint Faraday, as you well know, to see if this deal was legitimate. That’s why he was actually here, not because of that mafia don, Laredo or whatever,” Batty said, drawing himself up to a stance of indignation. “I was just the least bit suspicious and wanted all doubts cleared up and accounted for. I’m a co-treasurer, too! I’m going to transfer every centavo that’s still in the account into my name and will figure ... no! It goes into the name of ... who? Who can we all trust? I know you’ll have suspicions about anyone here. After all, WE got you involved!

  “Vern! Is Vern still out there?”

  Yvon ran to the front and came back in with Vern in tow.

  “Vern, you are now the treasurer with full control of all funds we can save in this gawdawful mess!” Batty said. “Von, Frank, you, me and Sam represent a majority vote. Carried. I’ll get everything I can. With that much in deposit, I can call Garcia and have the funds transferred right now! He’s president of the bank and can handle it electronically from his home, I’m sure.”

  He took out his cell phone and called a number, said they had discovered a probable scam and he must speak with Garcia, then called another and spent about twenty minutes convincing Garcia that they had uncovered a scam and wanted the money out of the hands of the present handlers, himself included. He didn’t want any suspicion directed at himself for any reason.

  They stood around for about ten minutes, then Batty got a call. He said a lot of the funds were gone, but there was still over two million in the account that they would be able to split among the stockholders. At least they wouldn’t go totally broke from this.

  They decided to go to El Critico because they could get a private meeting room there and could call everyone in. Lariez was there and greeted them. He was with two bimbos who were most definitely NOT terrified of him. He looked sharply at “Denton” for a second or two, then seemed convinced he wasn’t Clint and left with the two girls and his tag-along thug, who had picked up a girl of his own.

  They went into the meeting room and ordered a round of drinks and some food. Clint said he wasn’t going to drink anything but water. He never took alcohol except a glass of wine now and then at meals. No one seemed to know how to start it so Clint stood and said they had to discuss the problem whether they wanted to or not. He was certainly no part of it, but had some experience with such things and would offer advice – if they wanted it.

  They didn’t have a clue as to how to proceed so asked him what they should do, but wait until the others were there.

  Half an hour later they were all there except Monica. Yvon called her and she said she had gone to Panamá City. She had some kind of emergency that came up. She was on the bus nearing Santiago at that moment.

  Veeeddddy inderesdink! Was she supposed to hustle a certain engineer out of the country? Was she going with him?

  Batty looked confused and a bit afraid. No one else reacted much at the news. Batty said he had to use the bano, then they could discuss what to do.

  After about two hours they had decided to take the money that was left – Vern would check the exact figures first thing in the morning – and divide it according to the percentages held. Batty and Yvon said they would use what they got as investment capital in land. At least they would get a little back. They would meet at Batty’s office at nine. They would appreciate it if Clint would be there. Vern suggested that. Clint said he would put his appointment off until ten thirty. He’d be there.

  “It’s a little better than we thought yesterday,” Batty announced when Vern gave him a copy of the account. Abel and Batty had the same amount – 18% apiece (Uh-huh. Batty probably didn’t have a cent of actual cash in it). Sally had 10%. Monica had 6%. Vonny had 5%. Carlos had 2% and should be paid something, as his percent was for work. The 17% for Arnold would, most certainly, not be paid!

  “Give Denton two percent for saving us this much,” Vern suggested. They all agreed. Clint wondered if they had a clue that he didn’t get ... maybe he did! Batty said his name was on the papers! He would have enough to live very well here without inheriting anything else.

  “Agreed!” Abel and Downy both cried. Batty coughed and said, “Of course!”

  They got a little calculator and figured those amounts according to the amount they still had. $2,684,926.63.

  “I’ll get four hundred eighty three thousand and change, as will Frank,” Batty reported. “Vonny will get a hundred thirty four thou and change. Denton will get fifty thou – not bad for two days’ work!

  “Well, Vern can disperse the funds and we’ll decide what we want to do, individually. I’ve already said I’m investing in real estate.”

  “I’ll let mine sit right there in the bank and collect interest,” Vern said. “Let’s go get some certified checks made out. We’ve learned a bit, I hope. We’re lucky we don’t have to beg for money to get back to the states. I won’t go back. I love Panamá.”

  They went to the bank. Vern said anyone who had an account in the bank could just direct-deposit and save the check part. That allowed Clint to deposit his part right then and there without his disguise being discovered. Vern had thought of that.

  Vern asked him where to stay in Bocas. He was getting out of there before he ended up tied into a big criminal investigation over the scam.

  “It won’t ever come to that. We’ve handled it ourselves and Arnold, the goat, will be out of the country.”

  “Goat?”

  “Come on! There’s no way he thought of this or contacted any of you!”

  “So! Batty? Or Monica and Yvon?”

  “Figure the actual money in the account,” Clint smirked. “There hasn’t been any drilling or for anything else. They’ve spent about fifty or sixty grand with the scheme. Take out what wasn’t put in and you know whose money was there. Yours and Abel’s and Downy’s. Batty made his, Monica and Yvon made theirs – but we did save about half of it. As you said, it’s a lesson. Another two weeks and it would have all been gone. At least the other marks can afford it. You’re the one who came out ahead.”

  He looked a bit surprised, then grinned. Clint called Judi Lum and said Vern Wallace would be staying at his place. They chat
ted a bit. Vern said he would pack. He’d be glad to pay whatever rent Clint wanted.

  “Hell! You just paid fifty grand. The place only cost me sixty five in the first place! I think you’ll like Bocas.”

  They walked around town a bit. “Wanda” came by and asked if their crap was cleared up yet. Vern said it was and introduced “Denton” to him.

  “Mucho gusto,” he said. “Vern, dear, you said you might like a little tumble if this got cleared up? It’s cleared up!”

  Vern laughed. Fred pouted and said he had almost promised!

  “Okay, you’re on!” Vern replied. “What the hell! When in Panamá do as the Romans do or something on that order. You won’t be getting any cherry.”

  They had to explain what the expression meant. Vern said he had an uncle when he was fifteen and sixteen who did about anything you could think of.

  “And you life isn’t RUINED?!” Clint cried,

  “Not from that!” Vern shot back. “It was kind of fun. Parts of it. Depends which end of the stick you’re on.”

  “We’ll get along fine, then,” Fred said. “I like being on the end you don’t like being on.”

  They joked a bit, then Obilio came to tell him to turn on his phone. Ten people have been trying to call him. He checked it and saw it needed recharging so borrowed Obilio’s to call Yvon, who had told Obilio to contact Clint.

  “Clint Faraday here,” he greeted, when he had her on the line. “You wanted to contact me?”

  “Yes. Mr. Bathner has been trying to locate you. Two people involved in that horrible scam here are dead in Panamá City! Mr. Bathner said it doesn’t seem to him like it was an accident because Monica didn’t drive and she was the one behind the wheel!”

  “Scam? What scam? I’m in David. What scam are you talking about? I think I met a Monica when I was in Puerto Armuelles. She’s dead? Who was the other one?”

  “An engineer. Could you come?”

  “Maybe you can get ... I’ll call in an hour for all the details you have and will go to Panamá City.”