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

by Moulton, CD

  Yeah, and you’re so honest and upright you want to find whatever and smuggle it out, Clint thought. He wondered if maybe Dear John didn’t deserve to lose his ass. He might have walked away from it right there if it wasn’t for the suggestions about the Nesmiths.

  “We would really prefer to wait until ... well, it will be safe enough in the account. Nesmith’s half mil is there and our million. We get enough on the interest so we can operate,” Zacharia said. “I really wish it was in your name, not ours. We could have worked out something. We could have formed a corporation.”

  “Uh-huh! And that damned lawyer said we had to move here and apply for permanent residence or something, which means we’d have to wait eight damned months before we even started!”

  “It’s been there almost two hundred years so it wouldn’t go anywhere,” Valdez said. “I don’t like all this hurry-hurry.”

  “We have to hurry,” Zacharia pointed out. “We were through this ten times already.”

  “The damned lawyer said we couldn’t wait or it would be two years before a corporation would hope to get permits. Getting them as tourists on a lark would be fast and easy,” John retorted acidly. “Even with this we’ve had to wait ‘way too long. Everything takes too long here.”

  Clint could hear the Indio recognition call, “Oye! Oye!” just barely in the range of hearing. Back toward Cusapín. Moises had taken several people with him to explore where they found the blood yesterday. They probably found where the blood came from.

  “What’s that?” John asked.

  “The Indios working up in the mountains calling across to each other when they pass. It’s like `Buenos dias’ – sort of,” Zacharia answered.

  “It sounds like it’s coming from the water,” Gina said.

  “They call when they pass in their cayucas. Somebody they know on the beach will yell, or they’ll yell out to someone on a boat,” Valdez explained. “We’d better get moving. I think we’re very close. This is pretty well what was described.”

  “This is almost exactly what’s there, but that was a long time ago,” Zacharia replied. “I think today or tomorrow we find it!”

  “I think we should check that one up ahead that’s fallen over on an angle,” Valdez suggested. “It would have probably been straight up two hundred years ago.”

  “You’re right!” John cried. “My god! What if the marker tree fell over years ago?”

  “Well, it could have happened, I suppose,” Valdez answered. “I doubt it. Nisperos very rarely are affected by anything. That one back there is at least eight hundred years old. Maybe more than a thousand. They’re tough.

  “That’s a good thing about them. If it’s one that got blown down or something less than two hundred years ago it’ll still be there. Nispero doesn’t rot and bugs and termites don’t eat it. It’s too hard. You can’t even drive a nail into it. We’ll just have to explore a bit more. We’ve already checked out seventeen of them in four days so it would be inconvenient, but would only mean spending another week or so looking, I think.”

  Clint heard a very faint call by the Indios to get the police. Valdez didn’t seem to hear it. Zacharia had her head inside the boat to replace the thermos. Gina and John weren’t supposed to know any Spanish so only Valdez would have understood – so why the smirk from Gina to John? Why a smirk, not shock?

  Valdez waved and they pushed the boat into the water and got in to head on toward the nispero on a slant. Clint waited until they were a good distance, then moved just inside the tree line for a couple of kilometers before getting on the beach to head for where he heard the calls.

  Moises and four men were bringing the bodies of two middle-aged gringos onto the beach as he arrived.

  “Well, Clint! Seems we found where the blood came from! Now we have to find out who they were,” Moises greeted.

  “Ida and Harry Nesmith,” Clint replied. “We have to find what they were looking for here, but I think it’s pirate treasure. They have some old maps.”

  “With them?” Moises asked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Could anyone be that gullible?”

  “Apparently.”

  Moises laughed. “So they carry around paper maps a couple of hundred years old instead of scanning and copying them. They would be the ones who say Indios are stupid.”

  “Well, you are. You still can’t catch up to the stupidity level of those idiots.”

  Moises grinned and gave him the finger. “So we must know what, but we can guess.”

  “The ‘what’ I want to know is what bank these two put the five hundred grand in that ended them up dead,” Clint corrected. “It’s the twenty-sixth. The other two will end up dead before the end of the month when their funds are deposited, I’d say. I’d also want to know what a certain look meant.”

  “You never make any sense,” Moises accused.

  Plots Within Plots

  The police boat came about ten minutes later. Clint told them what he knew, then got in the cayuca with the Indios and headed back toward Cusapín. He went directly to the computer and started looking up things. He called Goins and asked for some information, then told him Ida and Harry were no longer among the living.

  “What was the deal?” Clint asked.

  “Well ... I’m not sure.”

  “Find out everything you can about all of them. What bank, names in the account, who can or can’t move funds, everything. Something is very wrong here. There’s something that means ... there’s a plot within a plot. Who’s running what part?” Clint asked. “Ralph, I need some information. Today. Fast!”

  Goins agreed and said he’d call back within the hour.

  Clint could find very little about any of them. He had their passport numbers from Goins so could use his influence with the Policia Nacional to find a few things.

  He went to the estacion to ask for information. Salvador Esperanza, the head of the little police unit in Cusapín got on the com to immigration to see what he could find.

  “The Nesmiths arrived here on the sixth of last month. The Littletons arrived on the tenth. Zacharia and Valdez arrived on the tenth, also. I think they came with the Littletons from San Jose’ Costa Rica. They went to Chitre, then on to Puerto Armuelles. The Nesmiths were already in Armuelles visiting the Wards, a gringo couple they listed on entry as friends from the same city in Kentucky,” Sal said ten minutes later. “I have business contacts looking for anything on any contracts. They opened a bank account, all of them, with a deposit of one quarter million dollars from Zacharia and Valdez and five hundred grand from the Nesmiths from cash transfers. The bank has a promissory from the bank of the Littletons for one half million that is to be deposited by transfer on the thirtieth of this month. Only Zacharia can draw funds and she must have authorization from any two of the others.”

  “Have they applied for any permits or such?” Clint asked.

  “Not with the government.”

  “You know something? I think this is two sets of crooks working two separate schemes against each other,” Clint said. “Nesmiths probably thought it was legit. Muy interesante. Thanks, Sal. I owe you a beer.”

  “You owe me a couple of cases of beer. I like Corona.”

  Clint laughed and left. He was feeling pretty good so went to the local supplier and had two cases of Corona sent to Salvador’s house. It would be fun to hear Sal try to explain to the gringo that it was a joke!

  Next, back to the comps. He wished he knew which lawyer was supposed to be handling the permits so called Goins, who said it was a local shyster friend of the Zacharia woman or something. Lic.Elena Sanchez Vargas Menendez.

  “Is the money really in that account?” Clint asked. “I mean the Valdez and Zacharia money.”

  “That’s there, but is on a provisional deposit that can be withdrawn after forty five days. I checked.”

  So that scheme was running exactly normally. The others would put in their money, the account was in the name of Zacharia and sh
e could only draw with authorization by two others. Valdez and one of four people – two of whom were dead and out of it. When the other two disappeared the money would be theirs.

  What was the other scheme? Something still seemed out of kilter.

  The Nesmiths and Littletons didn’t know each other before meeting in Puerto Armuelles? That had to be checked.

  Wait! If the Valdez-Zacharia couple were to disappear was the deposit automatically withdrawn or did it stay there?

  A phone call, half an hour waiting and Goins said it stayed.

  If it weren’t for the fact the Nesmiths, who were probably innocent, were dead Clint would like to sit back and let the rest of the drama play out. As it was it might take some work to make things move away from either scheme.

  Clint spent the rest of the day with friends. They went to the nearby river and up it a ways to fish awhile. When they came back to Cusapín Dave and Andres were sorting through plants, putting numbered tags on them and planting them in the trees around the house. Andres had about a hectare of land with plenty of trees so they were making a botanical garden there with as many of the local species of orchids, bromeliads, rhipsalis, anthuriums – and any other special types of epiphytic plants. Dave said the Century went by twice while he was where he could see the water, toward Cusapín just past noon and back again about an hour and a half later. The women weren’t aboard when they went out the second time.

  They weren’t staying in Cusapín. Where were they?

  It had to be Chiriqui Grande. That fast a boat could make Chiriqui in half an hour. Half an hour for food or whatever, then return.

  Clint asked if there was a boat to Chiriqui Grande that late. Moises said he would take him and spend the night in Chiriqui Grande. They could make it just a little after dark.

  That may be good. If anyone was watching for him to go back to Chiriqui Grande they would probably not be watching after dark. Dave said he’d keep an eye out for anytime they moved. Nicanor was on the dock watching for the boat to return. It would stop for fuel, probably.

  “They refuel here?” Clint asked.

  “Yes.”

  Clint considered. If they went all the way to Chiriqui Grande they would buy fuel there. It was a dollar a gallon cheaper. Something was strange about that, too.

  The trip to Chiriqui Grande was very interesting in that Clint checked everywhere along the way where the Century could have landed close to a house or small settlement. There were several areas, but nothing definite. They were getting close to Chiriqui Grande when Clint saw the Century back just at a distance where it could be noted, mainly because it was dusk and it had on running lights. He watched as it went to shore about two kilometers before where they were. Five kilometers from Chiriqui Grande, more or less. There were a couple of small houses along there, but no evidence the Century had been to them.

  So. They were camping somewhere out of sight. The morning might just be fun!

  Clint had Moises take him along just out from the beach until he could see the Century pulled up between some large boulders near where a stream came into the Caribbean. He went ashore and Moises would go on toward Cusapín like normal and would wait a kilometer farther along.

  Clint went close to the shrubbery until he was about a hundred meters from the boat, then went inside the shrubbery to the base of the hill. He would have to go around away from the beach to not be seen. It was slow, but he found the two large tents in a depression between two hills where a small stream flowed into the larger one two hundred meters from the Caribbean. The women were by a small kerosene stove cooking something for breakfast. Clint moved to where he could hear. There was plenty of cover to within ten feet of the tents. The stove was between with a small frond cover built over it. There was coffee on the stove and eggs and salchichas were on the second burner.

  “... maybe too close. I didn’t like him and said so, then they got smart, but Rondo came and they left.

  “I don’t like Panama City even a little bit,” Zacharia was saying.

  “I know. I don’t either,” Gina replied, “I do like Puerto Armuelles, though. ....”

  They went on for about ten minutes with normal chatter. Valdez came out and poured coffee, then John joined them. They chatted about various inconsequentialities for awhile, then took some things from the tents to the boat. They said they’d drop Gina and Harry off in Chiriqui Grande, then go back to search around the tree where they found the bottle in the rocks. It looked very much like what was on the map. They would come back at two to pick up the Littletons and return to the search if they hadn’t found it.

  So. The Littletons were going to be gone for the morning.

  “Can you be back by two?” Zacharia asked.

  “We’ll take the bus to David. It’s almost empty this early, then we can grab a taxi if the bus is full. It won’t take more than half an hour at the bank,” John promised. “We’ll be here at two! I hope you’ll be here with pictures of the find!”

  They laughed and joked a bit, then got in the Century and headed for Chiriqui Grande. Clint went out when they were finally out of sight and checked over the tents, but there was nothing out of the ordinary there. He called Salvator in Chiriqui Grande and asked that he get on the bus with the Littletons and see where they go. He went along the beach to Moises and they waited for the Century to go by, but it didn’t come.

  “You know something?” Clint mused. “I think maybe the funds are supposed to be transferred today. Zacharia and Valdez aren’t going to go after some treasure they know damned well isn’t there. They’re probably in Chiriqui Grande.”

  Moises nodded and headed for Chiriqui Grande. When they got to the docks Moises said he’d try to find where the Valdez and Zacharia people were. Clint would go to the bombas and check on the Littletons. He decided to try to call Salvator, though the bus would be in the mountains by now and there wasn’t much chance he’d get reception.

  Salvador answered almost immediately. He said they were in Mali.

  “You only got that far? You should be twenty kilometers into the mountains by now!”

  “They got out here. They’re waiting for the next bus back. About fifteen minutes.”

  “Were Valdez and Zacharia there when they got on the bus?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t catch the same bus as they do back to Chiriqui Grande. It would be too suspicious.”

  “I know. I’ll call when they get on the bus.”

  “I can be here to yell ‘Surprise!’ at them.”

  Salvator laughed. Eight minutes later Salvator called to say they just got on the bus. Clint waited at the bombas restaurante until the bus arrived and the Littletons got off. Clint followed them as they went into the restaurant for some snacks and coffee. Moises called to say his subjects went to Punta Robalo.

  That would be logical. They would have to come into the dock at two to act like they were just coming from “The Find” Clint was sure they would announce. They would go to their treasure – but wouldn’t come back.

  Or Valdez and Zacharia wouldn’t come back.

  Or something.

  Clint had a snack and sat not far from his subjects. He couldn’t hear much, but they seemed to have a rather intense conversation. Gina was pretty obviously giving orders. She would lean close and have a very stern look on her face, then sit back and look satisfied.

  John got up after awhile, checked his watch and bought some various fruit drinks in paper cartons. Gina checked them over and nodded, then took part of them into the restroom with her, was gone about ten minutes, came back, and they paid the cuenta and went out to hail a taxi.

  Clint shook his head. He wondered what would happen to anyone who had the great misfortune to drink any of those juices she took into the restroom.

  Clint took a taxi soon and followed them at a distance to the dock where they sat at a table to the side and had coffee and hojaldres. They were there at two thirty five when the Century came from the east to the dock.
Valdez and Zacharia were dirty and disheveled (Clint loved that word!). Zacharia help up a camera and gave the “V” sign.

  Uh-huh! Clint looked back at the direction they supposedly came from and grinned. This might be fun! The two in the Century didn’t know much about the weather patterns here, it was plain!

  The Thot Plickens

  Sometimes the best laid schemes of thugs and thieves go awry. The Century came to the dock and the four went to the table Gina and John had occupied for the past half hour and Zacharia showed Gina and John pictures in the digital camera. They discussed them for a few minutes and were calling for the cuenta when there was a sharp crack of thunder from the heavy clouds to the southeast and the wind suddenly began to pick up. There was no way a sane person would go out into that. It wouldn’t last long, but would be pretty intense. Valdez looked back and shook his head. Zacharia looked like she was about to explode. Gina gave John a sharp hard look. John shrugged and rolled his eyes.

  Clint giggled to himself. This would be nerve-wracking for all of them. Clint estimated the little storm would last from forty-five minutes to an hour.

  Clint also wondered how Valdez and Zacharia would explain how they came from where that storm was to Chiriqui Grande and didn’t seem aware of it when they docked. The storm was between Chiriqui Grande and Cusapín. If they came from east of Cusapín within the past two hours or more they had to go through it.

  The four went to the boat to get the weather report. It said the storm would be strong locally and would pass Chiriqui Grande in an hour and a half. Small and pleasure boaters were warned to get to safe port until it passed.

  Gina put the juices in the cooler. Zacharia started to take one, but John said they would go to the restaurant to wait out the little storm so shouldn’t decrease their stores. They didn’t know how long it would take to dig it up and might need them. They would have to do some physical labor – as Valdez and Zacharia certainly knew!

  They went to the restaurant across the street and sat chattering at each other. The storm lasted almost two hours when it arrived forty minutes later.