Clint Faraday Mysteries Collection B :This Job is Murder Collector's Edition

by Moulton, CD

  Clint got a good night’s sleep. They would set out at five or five thirty. He had tried to keep up with Dave on a couple of the trips and knew it was no joke that the younger ones had trouble keeping the pace.

  It was partly that he kept going off on tangents. The Indios knew that moving a bit more slowly meant you could go all day, but getting in a hurry meant you would tire yourself out before long. Dave didn’t tire out. He never slept more than four hours a night, normally. He had energy to spare. It was his body schedule. He ate more than most and worked it off. Clint did the same to an extent. He ate a lot and moved a lot. He didn’t put on weight and could get it back off in a couple of days when he started to get the spare tire bulge.

  The dawn was beautiful with a pinkish sky with silver streaks over the water. They set off with two Indio youths who would tag along for a couple of hours or more. Andres and Moises. The parrots and monkeys were getting their noisy day started, too. They were both loud and funny. They would put on a show for the fun of it.

  They were about two kilometers from Cusapín when they came to a little stream coming off the mountains. It was rocky and shallow, but the scrub and trees hanging over it were covered with orchids and bromelliads, anthuriums and any number of other epiphytes. Dave spent a couple of minutes taking pictures of a couple of them. He explained that the yellow and brown one was an Oncidium that was only found in Brazil. He wasn’t in the least surprised to find it there.

  “No one ever looked for them here so, naturally, they didn’t find them.”

  They moved on. Four hours later they were eight kilometers (more or less) from Cusapín and hadn’t seen anyone for the last three kilometers. There were footprints going from where a boat had been drug onto the beach into the forest and back again. Moises said the prints were about two days old. There was nothing in the forest there but forest.

  They looked around and went on. Ten minutes later they found another set of footprints. Clint noticed everything about the area where the others were found and looked for something that would distinguish this spot. Nothing. The area was basically identical with no noticeable, to him, features.

  Ten minutes later they found the third set. Andres said they went in normal and came out heavy. They were carrying something.

  Clint and Moises went over the area inside the forest carefully, but didn’t find anything definite. There was a small area where there might have been something.

  “No pirate treasure here,” Clint said. “Maybe a drug pickup?” Moises looked thoughtful and shrugged.

  “If they found what they were after here there won’t be anymore beachings,” Moises pointed out. Clint nodded.

  Dave found a lot more things that weren’t “supposed” to be in Panamá. He would stay in this area and move slowly on and inward. Andres would stay with him and Moises would go on with Clint. They found another set of prints about half a kilometer farther along. There was nothing to distinguish the area that Clint could see. He asked Moises what was different about the spots, but he said they were the same, so far as he could tell, as everywhere else along there. “Maybe it is something that can be seen from the water, but not from the beach?”

  That was an idea. Clint went to the edge of the water and looked back over what he could see. Nothing seemed different to him.

  He shrugged and they went on down the beach. There was another spot, this one no more than a day old, about three quarters of a kilometer farther along. Clint went into the water a short distance and said that there was a very tall tree back a short distance. Moises came out and studied it and said it was an old nispero.

  Clint thought hard and said he had noticed another one at the last place they found prints. It was directly back from the landing, as this one was. He knew nispero lived for thousands of years so these could have been there a couple of hundred years as standout features. He had a case awhile back where pirate treasure was found by determining where runnels had been fifty to a hundred years ago. The Indios could tell very closely by the vegetation in the area.

  “I wonder. Is there another map that uses a nispero as a loci?” he asked of no one. Moises said there were probably dozens of maps that used nispero as a marker, but they identified land or such, usually. It was possible they were used to locate other things, but what things?

  “Pirate treasure, I’d think.”

  “There isn’t any pirate treasure along here. It would have been found years ago. A nispero wouldn’t be used for that. Storms knock them down. No pirate would hide anything along these beaches, anyway. Someone could watch from two kilometers away and take it when they left.”

  “I know that, and you know that. Maybe some stupid gringo with a lot of money would NOT know that.”

  Moises grinned and said that was a distinct possibility. Gringos were ridiculously easy to trick in that kind of way.

  Clint gave him the finger. “How long ago were these prints made?” he asked.

  Moises said maybe yesterday, maybe very early today. Clint looked thoughtful, then said maybe he would go on a bit more. Maybe they would see something.

  “They would be easy to see if they went on the water. That is exactly why there will be no pirate treasure. They are not far if they are here.”

  Clint agreed. They would go a little farther, then back to where Dave was looking for orchids.

  Ten minutes later they came to an 18' Century with two 225 horse Yamaha engines, beached. No one seemed to be around. They went to the boat for a closer look, then followed the prints to a few meters inside the forest There was blood on the ground and shrubs. A lot of it. Moises studied it for a minute and said it was the kind of thing that bled a lot, but wasn’t fatal – immediately.

  “How can you tell?”

  “There’s a lot of blood, but no body.”

  Some things are simple to figure. Clint could have done that!

  “Of course, it may simply be that the body or bodies, there’s a lot of blood, were moved.”

  “Then there would have to be another beaching close,” Clint pointed out.

  They went back to the beach and moved along a bit. Nothing. Moises shrugged when Clint said that meant very little.

  “Very little? Why?”

  “Maybe they didn’t beach the boat. Maybe it was just a few meters offshore.”

  Moises agreed with a nod. He said there would be blood in the sand in that case, so they looked for it. They didn’t find anything definite, but Moises said there was a place where it seemed water was poured onto the sand. That could have been to wash away blood.

  Clint went back to search the Century. There wasn’t much to find. They were about to head back to Dave and Andres when a man and woman came from the forest a short distance away to ask what Clint wanted in their boat.

  Moises gave Clint a look and said, “It is not Mr. Faraday who wants to know why this boat is here on the comarca. This is Indigeno land in the comarca and I want to know what you are doing here. If it is something legitimate you would have told us in Cusapín that you were here and for what reason.

  “I ask you, What are you doing on my land?”

  “We’re just looking for certain plants along the coast,” the woman said after the man translated. “We have permission from the government to go anywhere on national land.”

  “This is not national land. It is comarca. The government in Panamá City cannot tell you that you may come here,” Moises said sternly. “We have no objection if people wish to study, but there are places here that are not to be entered by anyone not of the comarca – and few of the comarca. That is why we will insist that you make yourselves and your intentions known. We will tell you the places you may not enter.

  “I will ask that you go to Cusapín and speak with the council before you again enter comarca land.”

  “We are on the beach. Everything below the high water line is public property!” she said haughtily.

  “No. It is not.” Moises returned.

  “The law say
s that everything is public to the high water line!” she snapped.

  “True, in national territory,” Clint said. “This isn’t national territory. It’s comarca. The law’s different. You have to get permission from the council to be anywhere on this land.”

  “Like you did?” the man snarled.

  “Mr. Faraday is with me. Isn’t that obvious?” from Moises. “I begin to wonder exactly which plants you seek. You have no plants and there are none in the boat. You carry no camera.”

  “Uh, we’re with the medical association. We’re looking for medicinal plants,” the woman said. “I’m Doctora Elizabeth Channing. This is Doctor Carl Conrad.”

  “What medical association?” Clint asked.

  “Er, uh, The World United Medical Research Project. United Nations,“ Conrad answered.

  “Well, just go to Cusapín and talk with Obilio. I’m sure he’ll say it’s Okay for you to study plants,” Clint said quickly. “After all, we came out with Dr. Wullschlaegel and Dr. Dodson. He works with Dr. Maduro with medicinal plants, as I’m sure you know. And with Williams.”

  “Oh, yes! They did the work with those, uh, Grobiarcanth plants, I believe?”

  “More with Scaphyglottis, if I remember. I don’t know much about the scientific names,” Clint said.

  “Oh, yes. I think you’re right. Mendel did the work with, uh, the other,” Conrad said. “We’ll go to Cusapín for a permit in the morning. We didn’t know we needed one.”

  They said a few more words, then shoved the boat into the water and headed back toward Cusapín. Moises asked what that was about.

  “I don’t think there’s anything like whatever she said. Dave talked about Dodson and Lowe and others. I made a joke about an orchid called a Wullschlaegeliella Dave was studying. Maduro did a lot of work with Panamanian orchids. Williams was eighty or so years ago and has been dead for twenty some-odd. Anyone with a doctorate in botany would know about him in Panamá. Dave has a list of more than a hundred species of Scaphyglottis orchids found in Panamá. He’s found a few he thinks are new.

  “I wonder if there’s a body or two back in there. There were certainly no cuts on either of those two.”

  Moises nodded and said he would have a search made tomorrow. This would be in the area of the omen – and there was certainly blood!

  “Blood, yes. But whose?” Clint asked. “I still don’t have a clue as to what this is about.”

  “Or who is behind it,” Moises agreed. “Or who those two really are.”

  “Who, indeed,” Clint said. They headed back to find Dave and Andres only a few meters from where they left them. Dave said he had pictures of no less than forty seven different species of orchids within an area of no more than 200 square meters of brush and rocks by that little stream. One might be a new species.

  “Many Scaphyglottis?” Moises asked.

  “Lord, yes! They’re always all over this kind of place here – and what in hell do you know about Scaphyglottis?”

  “I was talking with Dodson and Maduro about them. Scaphyglottis and Wullschlaegeliellas.”

  Dave gave Clint the finger. “Clint should have told you that Dodson’s been dead a few decades. Maduro’s out of Boquete. You might have talked to him.

  “Did you find any pirate treasure?”

  “No. Just some pirates,” Moises said seriously. “They claimed to be here studying medicinal plants.”

  “Maybe they were. There’s a lot of that.”

  “No plants, no camera?”

  “No camera?” Dave said. “Bullshit!”

  “My sentiments exactly,” Clint agreed.

  It was getting late enough that they would head back to Cusapín. Maybe they could find out what the hell was going on. It most certainly wasn’t about any medicinal plants. The very first thing any legitimate researcher would do was to talk with the medicine men and women in the area.

  They discussed the two awhile, then Clint and Moises headed back toward Cusapín while Dave and Andres moved on along the beach a few hundred meters and went into the forest.

  The socalled medicinal plant scientists hadn’t stopped in Cusapín. “They’ll probably go back to where they left or a little farther along the beach. They won’t expect us to be there,” Clint mused. “Maybe I’ll want to go out there in the morning – say half an hour before daylight?”

  Moises grinned broadly and nodded. He made arrangements for Clint to be taken out about half an hour before daylight. They would look for the next tall nispero and Clint would be in the forest nearby to see what he could see.

  What?

  Clint packed his Glock with his lunch and some coffee in a little backpack and had Kyle, a gringo friend who was there for the surf to take him along the beach to about three quarters of a kilometer past where they found the beached boat. There was a tall nispero back a short way and another a few hundred meters past that that was leaning at a noticeable angle. Kyle left him with a good luck wish and headed back. Clint went up the beach, carefully erasing his footprints with a leafy branch. He went into the lush forest far enough to be able to climb a small hill to where he could see the water without being seen. He expected they would be there fairly early to be able to be away before the Indios could walk that far along the beach (which would be a serious underestimation of the Indios). Judging from how long that boat was in sight before they came out of the forest, he could figure they went to the nispero.

  What could they be after? As Moises had said, there was zero chance there was anything like pirate treasure along this stretch for another hundred miles.

  It was about forty minutes later when the Century came slowly along the beach just out far enough to be sure there was enough water for the motor. Clint watched as they came along. There were two middle-aged people in the boat with the two from yesterday. He used the digital camera on zoom to get pictures of all of them. He would take more. The 2 gig card would hold more than a thousand pictures at highest resolution.

  They came in to the beach just below the big nispero and drug the boat up the beach far enough to where it would stay. Clint was far enough away that he could only hear a snatch of conversation now and then. They said something about Ida and Harry not coming back to the hotel. Valdez said they had seemed normal enough when they looked at the spot yesterday afternoon. They didn’t say anything about not coming out today, but maybe Ida was a little upset about something her daughter said when she called her yesterday morning.

  After that, the bunch moved on into the forest toward the nispero. Clint wanted to know if maybe Ida and Harry’s bodies were somewhere back near that last beaching. They were damned well not with Valdez and Zacharia when they headed back toward Cusapin yesterday!

  Clint eased down and moved silently along toward the big tree. He knew how to move without being heard or seen in these forests. The Indios taught him a few things about that. He was near the tree in five or six minute, but it took the other party almost half an hour to get there.

  He came to a large boulder not more than a hundred meters from the tree and climbed carefully up to lay where he could see. The four were studying what looked like very old documents and trying to find something or other about twenty meters from the base. Zacharia said something about the rocks not being in the right places and there was definitely no bottle in a crevice in a rock. This wasn’t the one.

  They headed back toward the boat.

  Clint slipped down and was near the boat when they got back to it. They moved very slowly compared to Clint so he was able to find a spot where he could hear everything when they got there. They came down onto the beach and were standing around drinking coffee from a thermos and talking about when the government papers would arrive. Zacharia said there was time. They wouldn’t get in any hurry. Don’t trust anyone who wanted a lot of money in a hurry. There were too many crooked schemes and somebody who had to have that kind of money fast was probably up to no good. Get the money in a hurry and get out of the country with it in a b
igger hurry. That was what she kept trying to tell Ida. Stop being so impatient and don’t dump half a million dollars into the account before more was known. Get the accord first, then worry about any money not needed for food or whatever. Valdez said he tried to tell her that, too. Harry insisted – but the money was going to sit right there until something was found. They would spend enough of it for gas and permits and such and no more. What he and Guila had put in already would pay for all that. Don’t get in a stupid hurry. Get the agreement from the government to explore and keep eighty percent of what they found before they put another centavo into it. If they found it now, before they had the accord, the government would allow them to keep maybe five percent.

  “Do we have to let the government get involved in it?” the one Clint decided was John Littleton asked. “I don’t see why we don’t find it and get it out before they know anything about it! Why take half a slice when you can have the whole sandwich?”

  “Because we could get stopped by the policia like we did the other day,” Zacharia said. “If we had one little item the government would take it all and probably put our asses in jail for four years on top of it. There’s enough that even the five percent they would allow if we found it and reported it without permits would make it a good deal. Don’t get greedy. You would end up losing everything. We’ll operate strictly inside of the law and won’t have to spend the rest of our lives running and hiding.”

  Valdez agreed, as did Gina. John seemed a bit miffed, but shut up. He then said he would have to transfer the money before the end of the month or lose the fifteen percent deposit to the agent. That was his real hurry. Transfer it now or lose double in fees. The damned banks were so crooked anymore that you couldn’t even trust them not to try to screw you out of what you worked for all your life. It was purely sickening.