by Liz Dodwell
We’d taken our time on the outward journey. Finn wanted to check the other Cayes as we passed. When I asked him what he was looking for, he just said, “I’ll know it if I see it.” Typical.
Hicks Caye appeared to have only private residential properties. Finn drove slowly by without stopping. We detoured slightly to Long Caye but that, too, was fairly barren of property and activity.
Next was Caye Chapel to the east.
“This is privately owned,” Michael said, then noticed my questioning look. “I checked a few things out on the internet last night. There’s a resort on the island with a golf course and an airstrip for small planes. It was bank owned and had been on the selling block for a long time, but looks to have just sold to a Mexican hotel development group.”
Finn looked interested. “Does that mean the property was abandoned?”
“From what I could tell the golf course was open but not the resort. So I would imagine there were a few staff living there.”
“Was the bank in possession when Aubrey went missing?”
“I believe they were.”
I turned to Finn and gave him my “What?” look, but as usual he ignored me.
On we went to Caye Caulker, dropping in behind one of the sleek water taxis that runs between Belize City, Caye Caulker and San Pedro, and dogging it to its terminal. Instead of pulling in there, Finn continued slowly north along the shoreline. “We’re looking for the Rainbow Grill,” he told us.
“I don’t know about you,” I glanced at Michael, “but I could go for a snack.”
“We’re not here to eat, but the restaurant is central to the main street and we can dock at their jetty and take a quick look around the town. Ah, here it is.”
Finn turned toward the beach and in a few minutes we were tied up and walking along the jetty to the restaurant, a bright blue clapboard affair on stilts. They were obviously not yet open but there was a man on the deck wiping down tables. As we approached he gave a cheery wave, “Gud mawnin,” and told us they wouldn’t be open for another hour. Finn asked if it was OK to dock there for a while.
“Aarite,” our pal nodded enthusiastically, “evryting gud.”
We took that for a “yes” and strolled onto the sand road.
The town pretty much consisted of Front Street, Middle Street and Back Street. Buildings were a kaleidoscopic blend of pink, turquoise, sunny yellow and sea foam green with white-fenced porches and rooftop gardens. There were plenty of quaint, if touristy, shops and restaurants.
Michael was business-like. “Do you mind explaining what we’re doing here, Finn?”
“Let’s just take a little time to talk to some of the locals and see if anyone here saw the Poulsens.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Just trying to get as much information as possible. The water taxi stops here on its way to San Pedro. Just maybe the Poulsens got off for a while. We’ve got damn little to go on, so even if we eliminate possibilities it will help. I brought some of Doren’s flyers,” he pulled out a wad of folded papers from a pocket, “to show around.”
“Well, I guess it won’t hurt.” Michael held out his hand for a copy. Resignedly, I did the same and we split up.
An hour later we were back together, all with the same story. No luck.
“Alrighty, then,” Finn said, “time to move on to San Pedro.”
The Rainbow Grill had still not opened, though there was more activity as staff prepped for the lunch crowd. We merely walked on by to board our rental when it occurred to me we hadn’t shown Aubrey’s picture to anyone at the Grill.
“Hold on!” I yelled, and dashed back waving my flyer in the air.
“Do any of you remember seeing this girl last year during the San Pedro festival?”
“I might have,” a voice said and I turned in surprise to a serious-faced woman.
“Here? On Caye Caulker?”
She ducked her chin. “A group of us were going to the festival. We were in a friend’s boat, but I remember because I have a daughter about that age. She was the one who saw her and she liked the girl’s outfit. She went on and on at me to get her something like it.”
“Where did you see her?”
“We were just getting on the boat – a bit south of here, as a matter of fact, by the water taxi, and that’s where we saw her.”
“On the taxi?”
“Getting off. It was a bit odd, now I think about it. They got off the taxi and then straight on another boat.”
“Who’s they?”
“A woman. She was holding her hand.”
“Did you see anyone else with her? Anyone in the boat?”
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t pay attention.”
Though I tried to wring more information from her that was all the woman had. Still, I strode back to the others feeling pretty pleased with myself.
San Pedro was a larger version of Caye Caulker. With more of a bustling atmosphere it was still very much a shorts and sandals place. Eateries and beach bars ribboned the Caribbean waters while tourists and locals alike ambled along the streets or cruised by on bikes and in golf carts.
“I take it we’ll be showing Aubrey’s picture around again,” I said to Finn.
“Right. You and Michael make a start in the shops. I’m going to see if I can find the old guy that the private eye mentioned, so I’ll hang around the docks for now.” He looked up and down the sand road. “Then let’s meet there for lunch.”
He gestured toward a red-trimmed, yellow building with an invitingly shady porch, above which hung a sign, Licks Beachside Café.
“Works for me,” I said as Michael gave his assent.
Finn wandered away and Michael and I decided our best course of action was to each take one side of the street. Michael opted for the beach side, which was mostly restaurants, while I popped in and out of small stores selling everything from local artwork, jewelry, souvenirs, edibles and colorful clothing.
Fortunately, I’m not into clothes or jewelry, otherwise it could have been very distracting. Everyone I talked with was friendly. A number of people remembered Doren asking about Aubrey a year ago, and all of them had the same answer: they had no recollection of the little girl with pink sneakers.
By the time we met at Licks I was ready for a break – and hungry. The place was packed but Mario, the owner, set up a table on the beach for us. Three bottles of Belikin were soon in hand – I was really beginning to like this beer – and though I was tempted by the curry coconut conch, once again we all ordered the same thing, bacon cheese hamburger. Delicious.
As we ate we discussed what we knew so far. It wasn’t much. Finn had found the old fisherman exactly where Doren had told him to look, and the man was more than willing to talk.
“Willing didn’t make it easy though. Jack’s a character and speaks in a mix of his native Kriol and heavily accented English. If circumstances were different ah mi gat wahn gud taim wid heem.”
What?
Seeing our puzzled expressions, Finn explained. “I’d have a good time with him. At least, I think that’s what I said.”
Michael rolled his eyes and Finn got serious again.
“No matter how I asked the questions, Jack didn’t waver from his assertion that Aubrey never arrived here. And I have to tell you, he’s sharp as they come with a memory like a steel trap. He claims to recall seeing Lenard and Pipaluk Poulsen, not just from the description Doren gave him, but says he noticed them because Lenard had a bloody lip and was acting strangely.”
Michael frowned. “Our PI friend didn’t mention that.”
At the same time I said, “Strangely, how so?”
Finn looked from one to the other of us. “Jack said Lenard seemed like a man going to a funeral rather than someone looking forward to a fun vacation day. He also is quite sure they did not get off the water taxi.”
“What does that mean?”
“If it’s true, it means they must have arrived on a private boat.”
“Maybe we’ll learn something more in a while,” Finn said. “After I finished with my new friend I put a call in to the San Pedro Police substation. We’re meeting Chief Benjamin Flowers in about an hour.”
“How did you manage that?” Michael asked.
“Dixie called and asked for his cooperation.”
“You mean Detective Tanner in Sarasota?”
Finn nodded as he took a long pull at his beer. “The same. So let’s finish our meal and find our way to the police station.”
Eight
There was no fear of missing the police station. The two-story building was canary yellow with green trim. From a balcony above the main entrance hung a sign that read “SAN PEDRO POLICE STATION.” A bright red police pick-up was parked in front.
Inside, it was certainly no bastion of modernity or technology. The officers were all smart enough in their tan shirts and navy pants but the word that came to mind as I looked around was “basic.” I’d say there was a serious lack of funding for the local constabulary.
Anyway, the desk was being managed by Sergeant Garbutt, who requested to know our business politely enough. We asked for and were promptly taken to Chief Flowers. He was an overly avuncular man, all hearty and jolly, which seemed out of place. I wondered if that was indicative of the way he handled police work. He offered refreshments, which we declined and Finn got right to business, explaining our purpose and asking if there was anything the Chief could add to the original investigation. Immediately, Flower’s expression morphed into one of melancholy and he steepled his fingers together beneath his chin. Again, his attitude struck me as somewhat fake.
“Captain, I am very much saddened at this disappearance of a little girl. I must tell you, I was not in San Pedro at the time. I have been chief here for only six months.”
“I’m aware it was Chief Moody who was in charge then and I hope to be able to talk with him at some time. Meanwhile, you’re the man I hope will have some insight.”
“Ah, your wish to speak with Chief Colin Moody will not, I fear, be possible. He retired and moved to the mountains but a slip on a mountain path, a broken neck…” Here he gave a thumbs-down. “When the lady detective called from America, I myself looked into the files and I assure you, a thorough investigation was made.”
“But the child still wasn’t found.”
Flowers dismissively waved a hand. “There was no verification that she ever arrived on the island, and the police cannot be responsible for all the parents who do not have proper control over their children.”
“What the hell.” Michael sat up straight. “First you say there was an investigation, then you blame the parents. What is it?”
Flowers’ lips drew into a thin line and Finn jumped in to smooth the waters. “I’m sure everything possible was done. It must have been difficult with so many tourists on the island, and I imagine you were also participating in the search for the men who robbed the museum.”
“That is so. They took a priceless piece of Belizean history. We were alerted to watch for unusual boat traffic or suspicious persons arriving. It was speculated the thieves might try and hand off the relic under cover of the festivities. So you see,” he threw a stern look in Michael’s direction, “it was even more likely the girl would have been spotted if she was here.”
After that, Flowers became generally uncooperative. He refused Finn’s request to look through the files and very soon dismissed us, saying he had another, important, appointment.
“Could a day be more unproductive?” Michael was glum.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Finn started walking back to the boat dock and Michael and I stepped in beside him.
“It almost seemed like Flowers was being deliberately obstructive.” I wasn’t feeling too positive myself.
“I wouldn’t disagree, though he’s right they would have been on high alert and perhaps more likely to notice the child.”
“Then what’s our next move?”
“We’ll work on that when we get back to the hotel.”
We made it back to the Radisson in barely an hour. We were all pretty weary so decided to clean up and then mosey over to Nerie’s and talk over dinner and a few brews. Michael wanted to call his family and said he’d catch up in a while. So Finn and I strolled off.
The streets were pretty quiet. As we approached the restaurant we noticed a couple of guys hanging about the sidewalk. They were both wearing caps pulled low and smoking. I didn’t think anything of it but Finn said “Let’s cross to the other side.” Dutifully I followed as he stepped into the street. Both of us looked back for any traffic. As we did, two other guys rushed us from behind. At the same time the first two tossed aside their cigarettes and ran towards us. They didn’t look like a rescue party.
Trapped in the middle I was looking for anything I could use as a weapon when I realized Finn had charged the first two men. Shoulder down he barreled into them, knocking one guy flying.
“Run,” he yelled as he managed to land a blow on the other ruffian before the first jumped back up and got him in a choke hold. Instead, I dashed to him and kicked the guy viciously behind the knee. He sank down but managed to keep his hold on Finn. The other two were almost on us.
“Get help.” Finn’s eyes sought mine and pleaded. “Go!”
The third thug stretched forward and grabbed my upper arm and I was galvanized into action. I swung inward to face him, bringing my free arm up to grab his dreadlocks. Yanking his head down hard I simultaneously brought my knee up and smashed his nose. He screamed and released me and I dodged away.
At that moment an old van pulled into the street. With a screech it braked beside us. The side door opened and another guy jumped out. Between them they hauled Finn and the injured man inside while one of them held a knife at me. I backed away. Heroics would likely get me dead, and that wouldn’t help anyone. Instead, I did my best to memorize faces and the van before it tore off. Then I rushed to Nerie’s screaming blue murder and demanding the police.
Nine
“Phill. Wake up!”
I jerked upright and pain spasmed down my neck. My head ached and my mouth felt dry and tacky. “Coffee. I need coffee,” I mumbled. Then I remembered where I was and why.
Finn lay in a hospital bed; I’d been slumped over in one of those ridiculously uncomfortable chairs they insist on furnishing for visitors. Michael was gently shaking my shoulder. “It’s more like tea time,” he said. “Four in the afternoon.”
I glanced at Finn. He was so still but I could see a slight rise and fall of the bedsheet in rhythm with his breathing. “Any improvement?”
“The doctor says he’ll have a hell of a headache but there should be no lasting effects. They’re expecting him to come out of it soon, and Inspector Usher is on his way. Why don’t you go and freshen up a bit and grab something to eat. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on him.”
“OK, but I’ll just run to the restroom. I want to be here when he wakes.”
I dragged myself to the ladies’ bathroom and splashed cold water over my face. My mouth tasted as if something had decayed in it. So I rubbed a little of the floral antiseptic soap from the wall dispenser across my teeth with my finger. It was almost worse than before. I swished it out as best I could but the taste remained. Oh, well. At least my breath would be attractive, which was more than could be said for the bloodshot eyes staring back at me in the mirror as I recalled events of the previous evening.
The Belize City police had arrived at Nerie’s with surprising speed. I’d grabbed a note pad from a server and already written down everything I could remember about the kidnappers, which wasn’t much. Michael had arrived just after the police. Together we waited at the local police station, alternately pacing around the reception area.
It was suggested that Finn might have been targeted for a ransom. I clung to that hope because all the other alternatives that sprang to mi
nd were much worse. In case money was needed, I called Bert in California. He was on it immediately, and promised he’d be ready to send funds any time.
“Look, I can scratch this conference and come down there right now,” he’d said.
I blinked back tears – you know how it is when times are tough and people are really nice. “You’re a prince, Bert. Let’s see how this plays out tonight first, but can I take a raincheck on that?”
“You bet, Phill. I’m here for you guys.”
I’d had the speakerphone on so that Michael could listen in. As I ended the call he stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and faced me. “Let’s call the PI, Doren Gillett, in on this. There may be people who will talk to him before the police.”
By then it was about eleven in the evening but Gillett answered immediately. Together, Michael and I gave him all the details. We agreed, no matter what, we’d check in with each other in a couple of hours.
The waiting was killer; I felt so helpless. For the heck of it I called Detective Dixie back in Sarasota. I had no idea what she might possibly do to help but at least I was calling in every hand I could. Dixie didn’t answer so I left a message. A few minutes later she called back.
“Phill, I’m almost afraid to know why you called because it can’t be good.”
I gave her the rundown. “I know there’s really nothing you can do, but I figured you’d want to be kept up-to-date on what’s happening.”
Dixie had been concerned and sympathetic, and asked a lot of questions as any good cop should. “I was getting ready for an early night with a good book when you called. What I’m going to do instead is head to the station and make another official call to police in Belize. Likely, it won’t do much. But it won’t hurt to elevate Finn’s importance and let them know we have an interest.”
