The Raft

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The Raft Page 54

by Christopher Blankley


  Chapter 35

  Tiger Print didn't raise her eyes to meet the accusing stares of Maggie or Rachael. She looked down at the handkerchief in her hand, kneading it around in her fists, looking for a dry corner.

  Rachael gasped, the full impact of Maggie's accusation sinking in. “You?” Rachael said directly at Tiger Print. The silence was damning. “Her?” Rachael turned to Maggie. “No, but Gandalf...”

  “Learned the truth,” Maggie said in a solemn, flat tone. “When?” she asked Tiger Print. “After the town hall, but before we left for the Coast Guard cutter? You overheard Gandalf begging me to find the identity of Meerkat's murderer. To save the Raft. Was it then that you confessed?”

  Tiger Print stood in silence looking at the handkerchief in her clenched fists.

  “But Gandalf went to meet with the FBI anyway. Why?” Rachael asked.

  “Because he knew it was over. If Tiger Print had murdered Meerkat, then the Raft was sunk. Done for. All that was left that Gandalf could do was to protect the thing aboard the Raft that he loved the most: Tiger Print herself. He knew that drawing down on the dryfoots, taking a federal bullet for the Raft, would instantly cast suspicion onto him. All attention would be drawn away from the real murderer. Alive, he couldn't save the Raft. But dead, he knew he still had some value: Meerkat's murderer, Raft martyr, dryfoot scapegoat all wrapped up into one. Gandalf realized he was worth more dead than alive. All he had to do was jump in front of a gun.”

  Tiger Print began to sob, the sadness bubbling up from deep down inside her throat. The tears came and she wept into her sopping handkerchief. Rachael felt a momentary pang of pity, then quickly corrected herself. Tiger Print was the murderer? It couldn't be. It just didn't seem real.

  “The only question, of course, is why?” Maggie continued. “Why did Meerkat have to die? Was it all because of this?” Maggie gestured at the empty vault around them. “Because she was working with the FBI? Because she knew about the gold? Or rather, the lack of it?”

  “Oh God, no,” Tiger Print bawled, choking back a sob. “Neither Gandalf nor I had any idea she was working with the dryfoots. She came to Gandalf... asked for money... to kick her habits.”

  “And Gandalf gave it to her?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “And more besides. To implicate the Senator?”

  Tiger Print nodded. “He thought if he could mar the Senator in a scandal, he could derail some tax vote that would have closed the loophole that kept the Raft afloat.”

  “And that was why Meerkat had to die?” Rachael asked, trying to piece it together.

  Tiger Print shook her head. “No, no... Gandalf... Gandalf... two days ago, Meerkat came to Gandalf, looking for more money. She was heading back to shore again, supposedly for another rehab meeting. She was covering for the trips onshore by telling Horus that she was meeting with the Senator. She needed to return with blackmail money. Not a lot, but enough to make the story about the Senator seem credible. Gandalf wanted to help her, so he'd been giving her greenbacks. From that lockbox.” Tiger Print pointed across the empty vault. “He didn't have the good sense to hide this empty room from her.

  “This had all happened before. A dozen, eighteen trips she'd made back and forth. Each time, Gandalf had provided a few thousand dollars. We assumed she was giving it to Horus, and perhaps some of it was. She must have been meeting with the dryfoot police, huh?” Tiger Print looked up at Maggie in the dim light of the vault. “We had no idea... I guess she was playing us for fools as well as Horus.

  “Anyway, with the other trips, Chemical had always taken her to shore, along with his other deliveries. But two nights ago, there was nothing going ashore for Chemical to deliver, so Meerkat asked me for a ride. She was having dinner aboard the Geoduck with Tea Queen, but then, if it wasn't too much trouble, could I run her over to Seattle? I said yes, thinking nothing of it. I went to bed early, and in the wee hours of the morning my phone rang. Meerkat was ready to leave.

  “She was aboard the Straight Dope, moored off the coast of Bainbridge. I was to run her around the Island, across the Sound and into the city. But as we cleared my dinghy around the Rich Passage, I came to realize something: Meerkat was happy, blissfully happy. The happiest I'd ever seen her. At first, I thought nothing of it and pointed my boat at the lights of the city. But the closer we came to the waterfront of Seattle, the clearer it became: Meerkat was using again, she wasn't going ashore for rehab. She'd been out all night with Tea Queen and she was high. She had thousands of Gandalf's dollars in her pocket and she was playing him like a fool. She hadn't been going ashore to clean up her act, she'd been going ashore to feed her habits. In the dark, I cut the engine of the boat and confronted Meerkat. She denied it, of course, but I demanded she return Gandalf's money. She was more than happy to, she said she didn't need it anymore. She didn't need any of us, or our stupid Raft. Once she got ashore she was done with all of us, she wouldn't have to see any of our ridiculous faces ever again.

  “I had no idea what she meant by it, but it infuriated me. I called her names, accused her of horrible, horrible things. Gandalf was one of the few people she'd confided in about her troubles in Arizona. He'd told me. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I hit a nerve. She lunged at me. We struggled. My hand found a fish club in amongst the tangled mooring lines...

  “She just toppled over the side like she'd taken a dive into the dark water. I wasn't really aware that I'd stuck her. But when she hit the churning water and sank, and sank, and didn't fight against her clothes as they dragged her down... I knew I'd hit her. Hit her hard. Hard enough to knock her clean out of the dinghy. She was gone. Down, down, under the black water. I threw the stick aside and reached my arm down into the blackness, but she'd vanished. I had no light, no life vest... she was gone. I turned and started the engine and brought the dinghy about. I set a course back to the Kalakala. After all, what else could I do?

  “Meerkat was gone, Meerkat was dead and I had killed her. I sailed back to the Kalakala and climbed into bed.”

 

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