Ghost Ship

by Roger Weston

  “That’s what Donna told me.”

  “Stay away from the office and…”

  “I’ve already thought about all that, Jake. Listen, Donna called back before she was killed. She used a P.I. in Long Beach and found out that Koch is leaving town. He’s going to Santiago, Chile to Richter’s estate and then to Tierra del Fuego to check on a cargo shipment.”

  “A cargo shipment? Have you been able to track down the Weissenburger?”

  “No. I can’t find any sign of her.”

  “Keep digging.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “I think I know what they have planned. Richter is going to have the two ships collide. Think about it. Richter purchases the cargo so there is a record of it. The more valuable the cargo is the better. Whatever it is, you can bet it’s worth a fortune. Then he collects on the two ships and their cargoes. It’s a classic insurance scam.”

  “Maybe he has a legitimate cargo business. He has a maritime subsidiary.”

  Jake ignored the comment. He was already planning another trip to Long Beach.

  CHAPTER 25

  Long Beach, California

  January 3

  11:50 a.m.

  Long Beach was expecting a storm, and a thick layer of clouds smothered the sky. The eaves on the buildings cast eerie shadows, creating a gloomy pall over the streets below. The ten-story Richter First Building was several blocks from the Port of Long Beach. Gray marble slabs covered the lobby. While Jake was making his way to the elevator, a security guard approached him.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I have an appointment with a personal banker at Chase. I’m running late.”

  “The elevator is over there. Seventh floor.”

  On the sixth floor, Jake stepped out into a lobby where he could see the entrances for three different office suites, each large and vacant. Jake entered the stairwell and headed to the next floor. The door to the eighth floor was locked, so Jake got out his lock pick kit and went to work.

  ***

  Back in the lobby, Juan Escobar, professional security man for Richter Enterprises, watched the elevator-floor numbers light. Juan raised his eyebrows when he saw the elevator stop on the sixth floor. He continued to watch the lights.

  Juan hit the button and waited. He watched as the lights illuminated the elevator’s descent. When it opened, Juan stepped inside.

  On the ride up, Juan unsnapped the safety strap on his holster.

  ***

  Wan-Si had the simplest of all tasks. After he dropped Jake off at the Richter Building, he was to drive around the corner and find a spot in the large parking lot. Then he was to wait a few minutes and enter Richter’s building at 12:01, right after Jake. Then his job was to distract security with questions. Simple. It was the kind of plan where nothing could go wrong.

  He couldn’t believe it when, as he pulled into the parking lot, a cop pulled up behind him with lights flashing. At least Wan-Si hadn’t been drinking.

  He opened his car door and started to get out.

  “Remain in the car,” the cop said.

  Wan-Si sat down again and closed the door.

  The frowning cop stepped up next to him and said, “You realize you didn’t come to a complete stop at the corner?”

  “No, sir,” Wan-Si said. “I thought I did.”

  “Well, you didn’t.”

  Wan-Si couldn’t believe this. Nobody came to a complete stop in California unless they were on the freeway.

  “May I have your license and registration?”

  Wan-Si rummaged in the glove compartment. “This is a rental car. I’m on vacation here.”

  Wan-Si anxiously tapped his toe against the brake pedal. Jake was depending on him to distract security. He needed to hurry. He handed the cop his license.

  The cop got back in his car and sat for several minutes. Then he came back.

  “I’m going to let you off with a warning this time. Make sure that you come to a complete stop next time.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.” Wan-Si resisted the urge to say anything more. As the cop pulled out of the lot, Wan-Si glanced at his watch. He was four minutes behind schedule.

  Wan-Si entered the lobby of the Richter building too late. He watched as the security man entered the elevator and the door slide shut behind him.

  ***

  On the eighth floor, Jake found the offices locked, and no glass walls. A back office was marked Richter Maritime Enterprises. Picking the lock took only a minute, and Jake entered slowly, relieved that no alarm sounded. Once inside, however, he made a quick check for signs of a silent alarm. He found none but moved quickly on the theory that if there was one, he wouldn’t have much time.

  Almost immediately, he found a stack of file boxes marked, “Queen Mary”.

  Easy pickings, Jake thought. Just walk right in here and find what I’m looking for without any resistance. He skimmed the tabs and removed files that he thought would have relevant documents. In just a few minutes he had a half a dozen documents folded up and stuffed into his pockets. He would get out quickly.

  When Jake heard the hinges of the door squeak, he headed for the stairwell.

  He ran down the stairs, taking the steps three at a time. After he’d gone down one flight, he heard a voice echo through the stairwell.

  “You’re trapped. Men are waiting for you below.”

  This was probably true, but Jake didn’t slow down at all. He took flight after flight at top speed, breaking out into the lobby, half expecting to be riddled with the bullets of a dozen well-placed shooters.

  What he found was an empty lobby. Rather than run for the door and get shot in the back, Jake stepped away from the stairwell door and waited. Moments later, the door flew open and the guard burst out. Jake sprang toward him from behind, tackling him. Jake landed on top of the man, who landed on his face and chest.

  The man still clung to his pistol, so Jake grabbed his wrist and slammed it against the floor until the fingers lost their grip.

  The man kneed Jake in the gut, threw him off, and scrambled for the pistol. As Jake gained his feet and dove on him, the man swung the gun towards Jake’s face and fired. Jake felt the turbulence of the bullet as it passed within an inch of his cheek. He came down on the shooter, yet the shooting arm still swung free. Jake saw the elbow bend as the shooter aimed the weapon at Jake’s back, a foolish move that could kill the shooter himself as well as Jake. Jake rolled onto his back, pinning the shooting arm to the floor. Now lying next to the man, Jake elbowed him in the face. The sound of cracking bone resonated as the man’s nose gave way.

  Jake rolled the loser onto his stomach and patted him down for another weapon. Finding none, Jake scooped up the guard’s pistol off the floor and headed for the exit. As he approached the floor to ceiling glass doors, the man shouted.

  “Hey, bro.”

  Jake turned as the guard reached for his ankle.

  Jake sprinted to the wall of glass, pushed a door open, and lunged through it. Gunfire exploded as six slugs slammed into the transparent barrier behind Jake, who gasped in horror. By some primitive, cowardly impulse, he squealed and stumbled backwards in reaction to the shots, but the glass was bullet proof and stopped all six shots.

  For a moment, Jake held the guard’s gaze. Sheer hatred burned in the man’s eyes. With ringing ears, Jake jogged down the street and realized that it was raining hard. Lightening cracked overhead and thunder rumbled. A block down he took a side street. Two blocks over, he slowed to a walk. He was already soaked, and water ran down his face. More thunder was followed by lightening. The clouds were dark and oppressing. Jake got into the driver’s seat of the rental car parked right where it was supposed to be. He started the engine.

  “I made it,” Jake said.

  “I glad you did,” Wan-Si mumbled, “but we’ve got a bigger problem.”

  Jake felt the barrel of a pistol against the back of his neck.

  ***

  Jake didn’t mo
ve. Mentally, he calculated how close to death he could be. A little pressure on that trigger and he would be a fraction of a second from … Oddly, he wondered what would become of his boat. It was just a fleeting thought.

  “Drive,” the man said.

  Jake sighed. He snapped on his seatbelt, noticing that Wan-Si’s was already on and that he evidently hadn’t been roughed up.

  “Where do you want to go?” Jake said.

  “Just shut up and drive.” The man rammed the pistol hard into the back of Jake’s neck.

  “Hey, relax,” Jake said. “I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t hurt me.” Jake felt Wan- Si’s angry gaze and felt truly ashamed. He pulled the car onto the street and gave it gas, bringing the speedometer to thirty.

  The hack in the back seat leaned way forward, so close that Jake could smell what he’d had for lunch.

  “Go north at the next street,” the man said.

  “No problem, buddy. Just don’t hurt me, and I’ll do anything you want.”

  Jake turned and headed north for a couple of blocks. “You work for Richter, don’t you?”

  “I’ll ask the questions when I’m ready. In the meantime, you shut up.” He was sitting back in his seat.

  Jake kept the speed at thirty even though cars were passing him. “You’re not gonna kill us, are you? Please, sir. I’m just a professor. I’m no harm to anyone.”

  “I really don’t care.”

  “Please. I’ll do anything—anything.”

  “Shut up and drive faster.”

  “Mister, I’m scared. I’m really scared. Please let me out of the car.”

  Wan-Si glared at him. “Just calm down, Jake. You’re making it worse.”

  The man in the back leaned forward again, brushing the pistol against Jake’s neck. “You try to pull this car over; I’ll blow your brains out and leave you in the gutter.” His breath warmed Jake’s ear.

  “You got bad breath, mister.” Jake jerked the steering wheel to the right. The car swerved into the parking lane and smashed into a parked car. On impact, the man in the back seat flew over the front seat, his face imbedding itself in a net-like mesh of cracked windshield glass.

  Jake’s chest hurt from the force of the seat belt, and he noticed that Wan-Si was gasping for air. He got out of the car and ran to his door, opening it. He saw that the assassin was not moving. His face was pinned between the spider-webbed glass and the top of the dashboard.

  Wan-Si stumbled out of the car.

  “Are you alright?” Jake said.

  “I need a drink.”

  “Later. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  They took the first right and cut through a hardware store, mixing with the crowds and leaving through another entrance.

  “The cops will be looking for us,” Wan-Si said. “We should have thought this through.”

  Jake flagged down a cab and got in. Three police cars raced toward them, lights flashing.

  “Geez,” Jake said to the bald cabby. “Looks like they finally caught up with you.”

  The man chuckled as if he was amused at the joke, but Jake noticed he looked just a bit nervous.

  The cops sped past.

  Jake leaned forward and patted the cabby on the shoulder. “Guess you lucked out, my friend.”

  “Where you wanna go?”

  “Straight ahead. I’ll tell you when to stop.” Jake stole a glance out the rear window at the cops speeding down the street away from them.

  The cabby did as told although he irritated Jake by making a few turns.

  “What are you doing? I said go north.”

  The cabby looked at Jake in the rear-view mirror. “I’m sorry, sir. There is construction that way.”

  “Alright.”

  A few blocks later, the cabby pulled into a parking lot where Jake noticed dozens of parked police cars. “Hey, what are we doing here?” Jake said.

  The cabby slammed the car into park and got out. He came around to Jake’s window and knocked. When Jake opened it, he said, “The reason the cops were coming to the area was because a man of your description was seen carrying out an assault and robbery at the Richter First Building.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Maybe there are options.”

  “Like what?”

  “Cut me in on the loot.”

  “What? Are you joking? You’re trying to blackmail me right in the parking lot of the Long Beach Police? That’s a felony.” Jake had no idea if it was or not.

  “I guess I’ll just go inside then. I’m on parole and can’t take the risk of driving around with wanted felons.”

  “What?” Panic filled Wan-Si’s voice. “We’re not felons.”

  Jake said, “There was no burglary, but I will give you five hundred dollars to drive us north.”

  The cabby shook his head. “This is very disappointing.”

  “I’m going inside,” Wan-Si said. “I’ll straighten this out.”

  “Keep your seat.” Jake seized Wan-Si’s arm while he spoke to the cabby. “A thousand, but if not, we go inside right now and report you for blackmail.”

  The cabby looked toward the station, then back at Jake. “A thousand will get you out of town. Any further and we’ll have to renegotiate. I can’t risk breaking the terms of my parole.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Ed Haney was a happy cab driver with a thousand dollars in his pocket thanks to his incredible good fortune in picking up those dirt bag criminals. If only he could get a ride like that every day, he’d be rich. He dropped by his favorite sports bar on the beach for a drink. What the hell. He’d made a thousand big ones. He deserved to treat himself and enjoy a taste of the good life. A live band was playing reggae music, and Ed admired the long slim bodies of the young honeys on the dance floor. Normally, he remained a spectator in these situations, but today was a little different. With $994 cash in his pocket, he felt like a big-shot. These sweet things would want him the way he’d seen them want other big-shots. He spotted a sad but pretty brunette sitting alone and sauntered over to her.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he said.

  She looked up at him and checked him out carefully. “I guess.”

  Like you’re doing me a favor.

  Ed sat down, waved over the bar maid, and ordered two Mai Tai’s.

  After she was gone, Ed looked over at his new girlfriend. “I don’t mind splurging,” he said. “I already made a thousand dollars today, so why not take it easy?”

  The brunette’s eyebrows arched, and when Ed saw this, he felt his heart rate speed up. He was indeed a big shot, and now he was getting treated with respect.

  “What do you do?” she said.

  He started to say cabby, but decided that it might not sound so good. “I sell real estate,” he said, “but that’s not how I made a grand today.”

  “So how did you?” She gave him a sweet smile.

  “I spotted a couple of criminals after they did a job, so I followed them. I told them to share the loot or I’d haul their asses down to the police station.”

  “And that worked?”

  “They knew better than to mess with me.”

  She nodded as if impressed. “What crime did they do?”

  “Broke into an office building and robbed the place. I heard about it on the news.”

  “I thought you said you were there.”

  “I was, but I mean, it was on the news too. It was a big deal. The building belongs to Charles Richter.”

  “You mean the billionaire hotel owner?”

  “Damn right.”

  “Did he give you a reward or anything?”

  “No.”

  “Too bad. You might have really cashed in.”

  “I might have…” Ed all of a sudden wasn’t feeling so smart after all. Instead of being a big shot, he was starting to feel like a schmuck for leaving money on the table. “You don’t get it. I let the guy off. Why would I get a reward?”

  “You said you kn
ew where he was.”

  Ed couldn’t speak for a moment.

  The brunette playfully punched him on the arm. “Thanks for the drink, but I have to go. My boyfriend just showed up.”

  Ed saw her look at a muscular dude by the door talking to the bouncer.

  “Alright, take it easy.” He shrunk down in his chair.

  She handed him a piece of paper. “That’s my business card. Since I gave you the idea, give me a call when you get the reward. I want a cut of it,” she said, giving him a coy smile.

  “Maybe we could have dinner sometime?”

  She turned and walked away.

  “Good riddance,” Ed murmured to himself.

  The tramp was now cuddling with that big jerk who would probably love to ring Ed’s neck for sitting with his woman. The cocktail waitress brought him another drink, and he paid her on the spot, cash-money.

  “Something just came up,” he said. “You can have the drink.”

  Ed parked his cab in front of the Richter First Building and wandered into the lobby where he was approached by a security guard with a broken nose.

  “What can I do for you?” the guard said.

  “I’m here to see Richter.”

  The security guard looked at Ed as if he was an idiot. “This is his building, but he doesn’t work here. He has lots of buildings.”

  “What’s his phone number?”

  “Shit. You can’t just call him up. What do you want anyway?”

  “Watch your attitude, Holmes. I can talk to him, and you’re gonna make sure of it.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I know where the guy is who hit this joint this morning.”

  ***

  After hiring a deck hand to help Wan-Si navigate the freshly-painted Wolverine back to Seattle, Jake gave his friend instructions to berth his boat in Friday Harbor in the San Juan Islands. After Wan-Si left, Jake stood for a moment in his hotel room looking out the window toward the sea. He watched as pleasure boats playfully sliced through the water on the windy bay. A large overhang shaded his window, but he pulled the curtains shut and then double-locked the door. He sat on the bed and took a closer look at the documents he’d taken from The Richter First Building. The documents included the IMO Crew Lists, Background Checks, Contracts of Maritime Employment, Ship Stores Declarations and Classification of Refrigeration Installations, as well as a Letter of Intent to sell the ship.