by Scott Cook
“I wasn’t privy to the intake process.”
“Can you tell me what time he was brought in?”
A scowl, “I’m not certain, but I believe early afternoon. Now, I must insist that you leave, sir.”
I drew in a breath and let it out slowly, “Very well, doctor. We’ll speak again soon.”
“So it went well then,” Alex asked as he ate a bite of his shrimp and pasta.
We were sitting on the covered open back patio area at Shrimpy’s restaurant at Blind Pass. The restaurant had been several different names over the years but now was a French Quarter themed eatery with a great menu, some good craft beers and very authentic New Orleans décor.
Just beyond the railing against which our table sat, a small boat was gliding under the Blind Pass Bridge and headed out to enjoy a late spring sunset on the Gulf.
“Right up until I accused him of being culpable in the attempted murder,” I said. “Then his doctor showed up and kicked me out.”
“Ooh, a doctor!” Alex jibed. “Were you scared?”
“Well… yeah… I mean, he had a stethoscope… and everything.”
Alex chuckled, “So now what?”
“First off, I think that either the doctor is lying about Ted’s injuries or that he’s telling the truth, and Ted’s friends whacked him to make it look good.”
“And then some.”
“Yeah… so we figure out some detail from the boat wreckage,” I said. “And I am going to look into this Whittaker more closely. I’ve also got to talk to Veronica’s list of suspects. I’ve also got to put some people on her. I have the feeling she needs round-the-clock protection… but I just don’t have the resources.”
Alex frowned, “We can help. So can Orlando, I’m sure. She lives here on Tierra Verde. I can put a car on her place.”
I nodded, “That’d help, I’m sure. But still… I’d feel more comfortable if she had a person or two with her all the time. I can’t do it, as I need to investigate.”
“You need a passel of hoods and thugs,” Alex said with a grin.
I chuckled, “Yeah, like Hawk, Vinnie Morris, Chollo, Tedy Sap… maybe I should call Spenser and ask if I can borrow them.”
Alex laughed, “You’re forgetting Bobby Horse. I see your problem, though. But come on… with all your connections? What about ICE, for Christ’s sake?”
I waved that away, “Unless her situation is something to do with them, I can’t use my teammates. It’s a little tricky. I’ll have to put some thought into it.”
“Well, as I said, I’ll have a radio car put on Mrs. Bradford’s house.”
“Radio car?” I teased.
“That’s right… a black and white… a roller… a prowlie.”
“Couple of buttons in it too?” I asked with a grin. “Couple of blue-bellies… bulls… flat-foots…”
“You got it, baby!” Alex said in a good Kojak.
6
“Scott, it's Richard,” Richard Kelly, ICE’s director of intelligence, said when I answered the call. “I’ve got a little info for you.”
“Good evening, Richard,” I said. “Thanks for looking into this for me. I’m honored that you called personally… although I do enjoy speaking with Ellen Parker.”
Richard chuckled, “She’s as pretty as she sounds and twice as smart. First off, I did find your man at Palms at Pasadena… but I also figured you already knew that.”
I confirmed this, “I spoke to him earlier today. He threw me out.”
Another chuckle, “Can’t imagine why. Now, I also found out that Whittaker is indeed a lawyer who lives in Sarasota. He is the junior partner in the law firm of Chapman and Whittaker. They specialize in business law, environmental law and occasional personal injury.”
“Hmmm… real specialists.”
“Here’s what you may find of interest… Ted Whittaker has represented a Mr. Marcus Bradford on several occasions. He handles the tax filings for Bradford’s cattle ranch and has litigated no less than three EPA violation hearings for him.”
“Uh-huh…” I said thoughtfully. “Thus a connection between Whittaker and the people Mrs. Bradford suspects. Curioser and curioser.”
“What was that?” Richard asked.
I grinned as I closed the freezer in Surprise’s galley, “Making myself a drink. Just some cubes.”
“On your new yacht, huh? When do I get an invite?”
“We’ll make that happen for sure… didn’t know you were a sailor, Richard.”
“Not much of one… but I like going out on the water.”
“Consider it done,” I said and hung up.
I took my Jameson and ginger ale up on deck and lounged on the spacious curving poop bench. It was nearly eight in the evening and the sun had already slipped below the trees on the western side of the marina. A cool and rather insistent breeze blew out of the east and made the late-April evening very pleasant.
My phone rang again, and this time it was Veronica.
“How are you doing?” I asked. “Everything all right?”
“Thus far. Had a productive day… how about you?”
“Yes, I did… although it turned up nothing conclusive. I’ve learned that Whittaker was brought into Palms at Pasadena with a head injury and in a coma. The doctor says he removed some bone fragments and that Ted has temporary amnesia. He remembers nothing after you guys went under the skyway.”
She made a nondescript sound that conveyed doubt.
“Yeah, that’s what I think too,” I continued. “The divers are on your boat, and it looks like there was definitely an explosive planted there. We should know more tomorrow. Finally, it appears that old Teddy Bear has, and still, represents your brother-in-law and his cattle farm.”
“Son of a… well, that certainly explains that,” Veronica grumbled. “Marcus probably put him on me as a setup for this.”
“If I had to bet, I’d agree with you. Problem is proof. As it looks, Ted was assaulted on the boat as well… but the truth will out.”
She chuckled softly, “No matter what you have to do, right? No matter the heights…”
“No matter the depths. Now Veronica… I had a rather odd meeting with a couple of sharpies yesterday in my office, speaking of depths… I was warned to lay off your case. I will not, naturally… but it makes me think that we need to step up our game. What’s your plan for the weekend?”
A pause, “I’ve got another meeting tomorrow and then I’ll head back to Saint Pete either tomorrow evening or Saturday morning.”
“Okay, and can you tell me about your hotel room? Single king, doubles, what?”
“Planning on keeping me safe, Scott?” she asked with a hint of coquettishness in her tone.
I chuckled now, “Sort of.”
“Well, I’m in a suite. Plenty of room for a bodyguard, if that’s your thinking.”
“Good. I’m going to send my partner over to stay with you for now. Saint Pete PD is going to put a car on your house, and I’m going to try and organize a more steadfast defense in the meantime.”
She reluctantly agreed. I could tell she didn’t like being babysat, but she also appreciated the gravity of her situation.
The evening was encroaching fast, and other residents in the marina were beginning to congregate at boats around the docks. I could hear laughter, ghostly bits of conversation and at least half a dozen different types of music. Harborage was a big marina, with three hundred wet slips and all of them occupied. It was Friday night, and the dock parties were in full swing. I thought that I might take a stroll and see if somebody might invite me to one… or maybe wait until one found me and my fancy new ship.
“What’re you wearing?” Lisa asked immediately upon accepting my call.
“A sexy but shapeless burlap sack and a chastity belt,” I said without pause. “Know anybody with a hack saw?”
“Pfft! I’ll come over and gnaw right through that sombitch!”
I laughed, “What’s up, lovely lady?
How’s the case?”
“Missing you. I’ve knocked off for the night because my client and my target are going to dinner together.”
“Sounds like maybe things aren’t what she suspects.”
A sigh, “No… I’ve already seen some suspicious stuff. It’d be nice if I could report to her that hubby is faithful… but it’s not looking good.”
“Better you than me, kid.”
“Turd.”
“Well, I’ve got a little more interesting job for you. Veronica has a suite at the Hyatt Regency over in LBV. I’d like you to arm yourself and go spend the night with her. She’s headed back over here tomorrow, but with all that’s happened today… I’d feel better if she had a gunny walking behind her. Figuratively and literally.”
“What’s happened today?”
I told her about Otter and Big Top. I also mentioned what I’d heard aboard the salvage barge.
“You think those two clowns are going to make a try for Veronica?”
I chuffed disdainfully, “I don’t know… but somebody will. Those two don’t strike me as big planners. They’re more the hired muscle type. Leg breakers. At this point, though, we prepare for what our enemy can do, not what he or she is likely to do.”
“Okay,” she was silent for a moment and then said, “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, beautiful,” I said. “Gonna be lonesome going night-night on this big ole boat all by myself.”
“Guess you shouldn’t have run off to Tampa Bay then.”
“Guess not.”
“What’re you planning next?”
“Well, of her initial suspect list, Marcus Bradford is the closest,” I explained. “I’m driving down to LaBelle tomorrow and visit his ranch. I find it more than a little fishy that old Teddy Bear is Bradford’s lawyer.”
“Oh, you’re just a suspicious man,” Lisa teased. “So her dead husband’s family all wants her out… so the brother who was not long ago a useless drunk is now an officer in a successful company and owns a big ranch… so what if his attorney just happens to hook up with the one person standing in his way to ultimate power and wealth? It doesn’t have to mean he’s an evil mastermind.”
“Gee, when you put it like that… I feel kind of silly.”
“You are kind of silly… well, I’d better let you go. I miss you.”
I indicated similar feelings and we hung up.
Surprise had a number of… surprises. Paul had gone over the ship’s systems with me, and there was a box in one of the lockers that contained every manual for every system on board. He’d also provided me with several computer files, including an Excel spreadsheet on all systems and parts. There was also an instruction sheet for some of them, which included the operation of a rather sophisticated multi-layered security system.
When left unattended, a standard alarm could be set aboard just as you’d find on most cars or homes. However, there was also a secondary system for use when the vessel was occupied. This one included motion sensors strategically placed on the deck and on all access points. One could move about below decks freely and on deck as well. However, one had to temporarily deactivate the sensor on the companionway to go between. Otherwise, a silent alarm would be tripped to alert those sleeping or hanging out below to unauthorized ingress.
It was nearly two a.m. when I was awakened by a flashing red light in the master cabin’s overhead and a vibration alarm on an iPad that sat on a mount on one of the nightstands. I sat up and tapped the blinking alert icon on the pad and, immediately, a graphic of the boat from the top-down appeared. On it, it showed all of the motion sensor sectors and which ones had been violated. One near the boarding stairs and another along the port side. The water side.
I tapped an icon and several night-vision enhanced security cam views came up on the tablet’s screen. Sure enough, a small dinghy was floating alongside with a man standing in it and trying to attach a line to the bulwarks. Another man stood on deck just inside the entry port. This man held a pistol. Both were dressed in black with black stocking caps pulled low. Both also wore night vision monoculars over their left eye.
I didn’t recognize either one. I did recognize that they were serious and well-equipped.
I slipped out of bed, pulled on a pair of shorts and opened the top drawer of the nightstand nearest me. In it I had my trusty Colt 1911 as well as my also trusty Beretta Tomcat .32. I chose this weapon both because it was small and because it was currently equipped with a suppressor.
The Tomcat was a small caliber, it’s true, but for the close-quarters shooting I was likely to do, it was light, easy to handle and hardly made a puff when fired. I thought my neighbors in the marina would appreciate my discretion.
Rather than going forward and up the companion, which was no doubt where I’d be expected to go, or where no doubt one or both men would go, I instead opened one of the skylight hatches in the master’s suite. This large hatch would give me direct access to the deck behind the cockpit, thus shielding my activities from my guests. I held the Beretta in my teeth, stood on the bed and hoisted myself up through the large square hatch. I then lay flat on my stomach on the cool deck and listened intently.
The marina was graveyard silent. Everyone had gone to bed. There was hardly a breeze blowing, so there wasn’t even the sound of halyards clanking against masts. The only nearby sound was the steady tinkling of the outflow from Surprise’s three air conditioning units along the vessel’s waterline.
Unlike my new friends, I did not have my own Doc Ford monocular with me. While this put me at a disadvantage, it also gave me a slight edge that I could use under the right circumstances. Because in addition to my small pistol, I also had a small LED tactical flashlight with an adjustable beam width. It could be set to a wide bright beam or a narrow, really bright beam.
I edged my way to starboard, moving to peep around that side of the cockpit fairing. The entry port was only about twenty feet forward of where I was. The man would have to come aft a few feet to enter the cockpit and go down the companion if he were to introduce himself properly to the sleeping Jarvis, he must be all a’twitter to encounter down below. Although there were a dozen more hatches that opened onto the deck, none were openable from above unless released from below first.
He stood where I’d seen him on the screen still. He seemed to be looking around or waiting. Perhaps for his friend to climb up the side?
From a small inflatable dinghy it would be an eight-foot climb to the level of the bulwarks. Even with a rope tied to the railing cap above that, it would be a tough climb. The hull was coated in smooth gelcoat and finding purchase with shod or unshod feet would be difficult. At least if one were to make this ascent silently.
I heard a soft sound off to my left. It was a length of line being tossed up and over the railing on that side. My target heard it too, because he moved silently to port just forward of the mainmast, which itself met the deck along the forward edge of the cockpit.
I crawled silently over to the port side of the cockpit in time to see the man tying the rope to the railing cap on that side. He’d had to put his pistol someplace, probably in his waistband, in order to do this and then to haul on the line and help his friend come up the side. I had the Tomcat in my right hand and the flash in my left, with the sliding light adjustment set to narrow beam. I got into a crouch with my left knee touching the deck and my right leg bent so that my foot was flat on it and waited.
The man on deck had ahold of the line and was hauling it hand over hand. I aimed my flash. When the other man’s head appeared at the rail I coughed.
The man on deck looked straight at me and I hit the switch on the light. I aimed the narrow and very bright LED beam straight into his monocular.
“Argh!” He yelped quietly and instinctively reached up with both hands to cover his eyes. The night vision had magnified my LED beam and had sent a stab of pain into that eye.
Having let go the rope, it went slack, and the other man cursed,
fell backward but still managed to grab the railing in both hands. I dropped the light and lunged forward, crossing the intervening six yards or so of deck and slammed into the man who still held his hands over his face. We went backward at an angle, and I smashed his back against the railing. I then stepped back and sent a kick straight into his groin. That doubled the man over, and as he crumpled to the deck, I reached around his waist, found his gun and yanked it free.
I then turned to my left to focus on his partner. The idiot was still hanging there, trying to clamber up over the railing. When he saw me turn, he let go and fell. I heard a thump and then a splash as he must have bounced off one of the sponsons of the inflatable and into the drink.
I chuckled and grabbed their line. It was a half-inch length of poly-propylene. That bright yellow synthetic line that floats. I reached through the railing and grabbed the outside length through a scupper and hauled it inboard and secured it to a cleat.
I then removed a length of dock line from a locker forward of the cockpit and used this to hogtie the man who lay in a fetal position on my deck. All the while, I could hear scrabbling and splashing and grunting from below as his partner hauled himself back into the dinghy.
I moved over to the railing and looked down. Sure enough, the man had managed to get back into the boat and was just grabbing hold of the tiller on the small outboard. The engine hardly made a sound. Probably electric. Good choice for a clandestine night raid. Had to give him credit for that, at least.
However, when the man throttled up, nothing more happened than a burbling of white foam behind the small boat and a short move of a foot or two, but that’s all. Well, there went his credit.
I cleared my throat, “You’re still tied to me, dumb-ass.”
“Fuck you, Jarvis!” he hissed and slashed at the poly with a large knife. His climbing rope was tied to one of the polypropylene lines that were permanently attached to the boat as handles. The plastic fibers split, and the dinghy surged forward as the man flipped me off. I laughed, took aim with my Beretta and sent half a dozen rounds into the PVC pontoons that made up the boat’s hull.
