The Black Widow - Mark Kane Mysteries - Book Three: A Private Investigator Crime Series of Murder, Mystery, Suspense & Thriller Stories...with a dash of Romance

by John Hemmings

  “I know you said I’d assumed Dale’s identity, and it’s true as far as using his passport is involved,” Larry said. “But I haven’t tried to pass myself off as Dale for any other reason. I mean I haven’t tried to access his bank account or anything.”

  “That’s not really the point, Larry. For your own sake and for Cary’s too – and for the unborn baby – the sooner you resume your true identity the better it will be. You obviously can’t go to the embassy here since you’ve already claimed to be Dale and they’d know you entered the Philippines under a false name. If I were you I’d leave the Philippines as Dale, go to another country and then report the loss of your own passport as Larry and apply for a replacement in your own name; that way you can resume your real identity. You’d be wise to choose a country without immigration checks on entry, otherwise, when you leave, the immigration will query why there’s no record of you entering the country as Sands on their computer system. The U.S. doesn’t have exit controls, neither does the U.K., but I believe that most Asian countries do. You’ll have to do your homework. Fortunately for you the police here are of the view that the body found in the sea has not been conclusively proved to be yours and it’s unlikely that there’ll be any further investigation of the matter. I understand that no insurance claim has been made under the life policy so that won’t give rise to a complication either. I’m afraid you’ll have to kiss goodbye to your boat. I expect the police will keep it.”

  “So you’re not going to report me to the police or immigration; or to the embassy?”

  “Why should I? It’s none of my business. There’s no obligation on any member of the public to report an immigration offense or any other kind of offence to the authorities. If what you’ve all told us is true, then nobody’s committed any serious crime. Larry’s committed an immigration offence by using a false travel document. Cary’s made a false identification of the body, but that’s not a criminal offense as far as I’m aware. Probably the most serious offence was disposing of Dale’s body without a proper burial – if that’s an offense in the Philippines.”

  “I know we were wrong to put Dale in the water without a proper burial,” Cary said, “but I did say a lot of prayers for him. I still do, and ask him to forgive me.”

  “If what you’ve told us is true then perhaps he already has,” I said.

  “And if you have a son Cary maybe you can call him Dale, as a kind of memorial,” Lucy said, with an attempt to lighten the mood.

  “But you do believe us, don’t you Kane?” Larry said. “None of us would have hurt Dale in any way. He and I were like brothers.”

  “As I said earlier it doesn’t really matter what I think. Let’s just say that I have no evidence to the contrary. The highest I can put it is giving you the benefit of the doubt. That’ll have to be good enough, I’m afraid.” I looked at my watch. “I know you said something about dinner Larry but it’s late, and Lucy and I haven’t done our packing yet. I’m sure the three of you have important things to discuss too. So if you’ll excuse us we better get going.”

  “I’ll come down and help you get a taxi,” Cary said.

  “No, you stay here Cary, we’ll be fine. We’re seasoned travelers, me and Lucy.”

  “Thanks for everything, Kane,” Larry said. “Thanks Lucy. We’ll always be grateful to you both. I’m sorry to have put you both through all this.”

  “There’s just one more thing before we leave,” I said. This man who you blame for Dale’s death – Tony – what’s his full name?”

  “Gonzales,” Cary said. “Antonio Gonzales.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Cathedrals and Crocodiles

  Lucy and I walked back down the corridor and took the elevator to the lobby.

  “Can we go somewhere for a drink?” Lucy said. “Or several drinks?”

  “Let’s get back to the hotel and find somewhere to eat first,” I said. “Or maybe somewhere we can do both at once.”

  “I’m exhausted,” Lucy said as she leant against my shoulder on the drive back to the hotel.

  “You’ll soon perk up again when you’ve got some food inside you. We haven’t eaten anything all day.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that Dale was really Larry before we went to see him?”

  “I thought it would be more dramatic,” I said. “Mind you, I didn’t expect that Cary and Angel were going to be there too. I’ll tell you one thing, though. Your female intuition was spot on the first night we went to Cary’s for dinner.”

  “I wonder what he told her about Suzie. She must have asked him about it.”

  “Being a man, and therefore rather devious, I expect he told her it was only platonic.”

  “Perhaps it was. It couldn’t have been much anyway; I never heard from Suzie again.”

  “Who knows?” I said.

  “It’s funny when I think back to the vacation in Samui. It seems ages ago now, but everything was so perfect back then. Nothing’s ever really that perfect is it?”

  “Some things are,” I said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like us,” I said. Lucy gave me a hug.

  In the end we didn’t go straight back to the hotel. Even at nine o’clock the traffic was relentless and it was almost ten when we reached Manila Bay, so we asked the taxi driver to recommend a steak house in Ermita and he took us to La Dolce Vita in Mabini Street, just a couple of blocks from Roxas Boulevard and within walking distance of the hotel. We ordered Porterhouse steaks and a bottle of Australian wine. We asked the waiter to bring the wine first. While we were waiting for the food Lucy said, “You sometimes give rather unethical advice, don’t you?”

  “I’m not paid to be ethical; I’m paid to help people. I’m not a priest.”

  “You weren’t paid to help these people.”

  “No, so I’m afraid you won’t be getting your cut.”

  “Do you think what they told us was true? They could have all got together and concocted the story.”

  “Well what do you think?”

  “I really don’t know. Do you remember what Gary said? About Cary saying she’d kill Dale if he ever hurt her sister?”

  “I hardly think she meant it literally, do you? We all use expressions like that from time to time.”

  “When I was little I used to threaten to kill my brother quite often,” Lucy said, smiling at the memory. “Good job I didn’t because he saves other people’s lives now.”

  Lucy’s brother was a surgeon in New York.

  “I can’t think of a likely motive for any of them to kill Dale,” I said. “If we accept that Larry owed ten thousand dollars to Dale it seems unlikely that he’d be killed for that – to get out of repaying him; especially since his death caused so many logistical problems – changing identity, hiding the boat, disposing of the body, using a false passport. Sounds like more trouble than it would be worth.”

  “I guess so. And Cary really does seem like a genuinely nice person. Bit of a looker too, isn’t she?”

  “I can’t really say I noticed,” I lied. “But her friends, or Larry’s friends, certainly all seem to think highly of her. And don’t forget what Gary told us. She could have married Tony and been rich.”

  “He’s an old man; he probably wouldn’t have been much of a lover.”

  Lucy pushed the side of her cheek out with her tongue. I leaned over the table and pressed the tip of her nose flat with my finger. I refused to be side-tracked.

  “You recognized the name of course – Antonio Gonzales?”

  “The man who bought a share of the Firehouse after Dale and Larry were swindled out of their share,” Lucy said.

  “Yes, I don’t really know why I pressed Rosario for the name of the new partner. It must have been some kind of sixth sense,” I said. “Probably the local bar owners considered him a useful addition to the business, considering his connections. Maybe Gonzales considered it the ultimate triumph – first to
scare Larry away and then to take over his share of the bar.”

  “But Larry was in dire financial straits – even if it happened like they said, do you think they planned to claim the insurance money after the body was found?”

  “As far as Cary’s concerned she never actually tried to collect the insurance money – at least she says she didn’t and we’ve no evidence to the contrary. I suppose it was early days − it’s not long since the body was found after all − but she deserves the benefit of the doubt. She lied about the identification of the body and about the boat, but she had to do that to maintain the deception; she was a pretty hopeless liar too. But last night when Gary offered to return the watch to her she declined it. I was somewhat impressed with that, bearing in mind that she hasn’t got much and we know that Larry’s broke. She could easily have taken it if she was greedy or dishonest. Maybe that small matter speaks volumes for her integrity. And as far as Angel is concerned her demeanor and body language were consistent with truthfulness. But the main thing is that if any of them were involved in the disappearance or killing of Dale there wouldn’t have been any need for Larry to assume Dale’s identity. They could have just dumped him and got on with their lives. And they didn’t expect that we’d find out about the deception, so they would hardly have rehearsed such a story. So all in all I guess we’ve probably been told the truth.”

  “Did you mean it when you said I was a pretty good detective?” Lucy said.

  “I think I used the word assistant,” I said. Lucy poked her tongue out at me. “Of course I did. After all you picked up on Cary’s jealousy when I mentioned the vacation romance. If we’d given that a bit more thought at the time we might’ve tumbled the identity switch earlier.”

  “Yes, it was rather perceptive of me, wasn’t it?” Lucy said smugly.

  “And I was right about the driving license,” I said. “It was put there to give a clue to the deceased’s identity. A false identity as it turned out.”

  “Yes, but that was more obvious.”

  “You said it was a bit far-fetched as I recall.”

  “Well you said that the dead person put it there before he was killed, as a clue.”

  “You’re splitting hairs,” I said.

  “I suppose I should’ve noticed the missing photographs,” Lucy said. “It was a bit strange not to have any wedding photos or pictures of just the two of them together.”

  “Well, you can treat it as a learning experience.”

  “For the next time you require my services as your sidekick you mean? You remember the key? In the drugs case, in October? That was a bit of a master stroke too, wasn’t it?”

  “It was indeed; credit where credit’s due.”

  “I think I may have a natural flair for this kind of work,” she said.

  The steaks were succulent and juicy and came with great big Idaho potatoes baked in their skins, with a dollop of sour cream with chives on top.

  “Fit for a king,” I said.

  “Or a queen,” said Lucy. She thought for a moment. “They don’t really have things like palaces or temples here, do they? Or Buddhas.”

  “I think you’ll find that Buddhas tend to crop up more often in Buddhist countries. This is a Christian country,” I said, “at least this bit of it is. So they have cathedrals, churches and priests.”

  “And buwayas,” Lucy said. She laughed and bit hungrily into her steak.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  The Fat Lady

  It was early evening, almost two weeks after our return from Thailand and the resumption of reality. I was sitting in my leather recliner nursing my second slug of Jack Daniels of the afternoon when a familiar rat-a-tat-tat on my front door signaled the arrival of Lucy. I assumed she’d come to reprimand me for some perceived or suspected misdemeanor or simply to check up on me. We hadn’t seen each other for several days. Lucy had lately thrown herself into her new passion of cooking Asian food, which fortunately was keeping her fairly busy and out of harm’s way when she wasn’t slaving over a hot secretarial desk downtown.

  I yelled for her to come in but she didn’t, so I strode over and opened the front door. She was standing, collar turned up on her green gabardine coat, holding a white envelope in her left hand which was next to her ear, and she was twiddling it between thumb and forefinger. In her right hand she held a small FedEx package. She had a smile on her face like the Cheshire Cat.

  “I come bearing gifts,” she said.

  “Well that makes a nice change. Are they early Christmas gifts?”

  “In a way,” she said mysteriously. She had that ‘I know something you don’t know’ look on her face.

  “Then you better come in before you get frostbite,” I said.

  She shivered and entered, plonked herself down on the sofa, and said:

  “It’s not over until the fat lady sings.”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” I said.

  “Oi’ll ‘ave a large rum and coconut juice if you please,” she said, in her Long John Silver voice, “and go easy on the coconut.”

  “You’re in unusually high spirits for a Monday evening after a hard day’s slog at the office doing practically nothing,” I said, as I made my way to the kitchen, deftly removing and attempting to conceal the evidence of my latest drink from the coffee table.

  “And you better buy yourself another one of those while you’re at it,” she said.

  I fixed the drinks, placed Lucy’s in her outstretched hand, twisted my recliner to face the sofa and sat down. I placed my own drink on the occasional table at my side and looked at her. She grinned at me but said nothing.

  “This could become annoying,” I said; “eventually.”

  Lucy looked at me enigmatically. “The delay in revealing the contents of these two items is done for dramatic effect,” she replied.

  “I give up,” I said. “What’s in the envelope? An invitation to the White House? Official recognition of my services to the community?”

  “It’s a letter from my old pal, Suzie; Thailand Suzie − the scarlet woman.”

  “You mean Larry’s friend?”

  “The very same.”

  “That couldn’t possibly explain your glee,” I said.

  “That’s because you don’t know what it contains.”

  Lucy put her hand in the envelope, and using her thumb and forefinger she plucked out an oblong piece of paper and tossed it onto the coffee table between us.

  “It’s a check for five big ones – five very big ones − drawn on the Wells Fargo Bank in Sacramento. It’s got my name on it.”

  “For what?”

  “For helping her brother.”

  “Who the hell’s her brother?” I said.

  “I’ll give you one guess.” Her grin widened.

  “Jesus…you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “I assume it came with a covering letter,” I said, reaching out my hand.

  “Whoa. I’ll read it to you. For better dramatic effect,” she said.

  “Lights, curtains, orchestra… ‘My Dearest Lucy’ − it begins – ‘I have been struggling to write this letter for several days, but I didn’t know what to say. Anyway here goes. You have always been a true friend to me and I am ashamed to have deceived you. I hope you will understand my reasons and forgive me. I am Larry’s little sister and we have always been close. You now know the difficult situation he got himself into in the Philippines and that he was posing as Dale when we met you. As you now know, when Dale was killed Larry panicked and assumed Dale’s identity. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t see Cary because he was frightened of being recognized. He didn’t tell me over the telephone what the situation was other than he was scared for his life and Cary’s. He didn’t know who else to turn to. He was in Thailand. He didn’t want to be alone and he was afraid to return to the Philippines for the time being. My husband, Rick paid for me to fly out to see Larry.


  ‘It wasn’t until I got to Thailand that he unfolded the full story to me. Before we met you I’d advised him to go back to the Philippines, resume his true identity and then fly back to the States; later he could make arrangements for Cary to join him there; and that was what he was intending to do. But as you know things were overtaken by events which we hadn’t anticipated. We never told you of our true relationship, and we also failed to disabuse you of your impression that we were vacation lovers because we found it easier to go along with your mistaken belief. But our affection for you was one hundred percent genuine, of that you must never be in doubt.

  ‘I will be forever grateful to you and your wonderful partner for helping Larry, even though I know we both caused you a great deal of trouble. Larry has told me everything you did for him. He was embarrassed that he wasn’t in a position to pay for your services. Rick and I aren’t wealthy, but we’ve taken out a loan for five thousand dollars which I hope will be enough to at least reimburse you for the expense you both must have incurred as a result of this matter. Larry will repay us when he is able to. Please accept this check as a true token of appreciation and for the lasting affection we will always have for you.

  ‘Larry has taken your advice and already left the Philippines. Cary has given the house to her sister and moved temporarily to Manila. They’ll both come back to the States in due course, hopefully in time for the baby’s birth. The baby will be named Mark if it’s a boy or Lucy if it’s a girl, and you will both be named as honorary Godparents. I hope this is not too presumptuous and that you will accept this gesture in the spirit in which it’s intended. God bless both of you, your friend always, Suzie Hall.’

  “There’s no address on the letter. So we’re going to be parents. How exciting is that?”

  “Godparents Lucy.”

  “Which means we won’t have to change diapers.”