Whistler's Angel

by John R. Maxim

  The other one, named Kaplan, had also confirmed who was in the house at the time. Kaplan had been grabbed by Billy McHugh. It seems that Billy had been posted to watch several streets by which any of the Aubrey crowd might escape from this beachside community they were in. He saw a man and a young woman come out pushing bikes. They were pushing them because the young woman’s bike was bent. He recognized Kaplan the moment he saw him because Billy had heard a detailed description of the way this Kaplan was dressed. Billy says he could hardly believe his own eyes. He says Kaplan might as well have been carrying a sign that said, “In case you didn’t notice, this is me.”

  Billy says he recognized the girl, the kidnap victim, because they had a description of her as well. Blond hair, black pants, maroon blouse, one sleeve missing. But the girl wasn’t acting like a kidnap victim. Not only did she have every chance to get away; this Kaplan was trying to get rid of her. But she stayed with him; they crossed the main road, and they pushed their bikes to a big parking lot that had a sign saying “Beach Parking Only.”

  The car they went to was a red Cadillac. It was an old El Dorado with fins. Billy heard Kaplan saying, “Now will you go away?” The girl said, “Arnie, you can’t use this car. Let’s catch a bus, go down to mine and I’ll drive you.” But it seems that driving a red Cadillac was not quite as dumb as Billy thought. It seems that Kaplan had another, less conspicuous car stashed and all he wanted to do was get to that one. And Kaplan had been trying to get rid of the girl so that he could strip down to less conspicuous clothing that he had been wearing underneath all this time.

  To make a long story short, McHugh proceeded to detain him. McHugh paralyzed Kaplan with a punch to his kidney while telling the girl, “You’re okay now. Don’t scream.” She almost screamed anyway. Billy has that effect. She threw herself over Kaplan and said, “Don’t hurt him again. This man saved me.”

  Billy wasn’t going to hurt him. At any rate, not yet. All Billy intended was to take him to the boat and hold him until he could be questioned. Billy told the girl that she could go, but she wouldn’t. She wanted to stick close to protect her protector. Billy drove them both to the boat.

  “You know what that sounds like?” said Donald, “That syndrome.”

  “Stockholm syndrome?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “Well…you go have a talk with them. You sort it out. I’ll be busy with Adam and Kate.”

  Harry’s Gulfstream jet was on its final approach. That approach took it past the hospital complex. At that point, the plane was at 400 feet. Harry saw that there were police cars and fire trucks still ringing the hospital building. Olivia and her husband were still there, no doubt, although probably on a less smoky floor. Aubrey and Briggs were there as well, under guard. Molly and Kate had gone back to the boat to meet up with Adam and Claudia. Carla had gone there as well to take a shower and to borrow some of Claudia’s clothing.

  He’d have thought that Molly would have been held after helping that lunatic burn himself up. But Adam and Claudia seemed to have some clout with a Deputy Sheriff named Moore. Moore had merely told her not to leave the island until she was told that she could go.

  Speaking of bombs…Harry turned to Donald Beasley. “Molly says that boat’s clean now. Are we sure?”

  “If John Waldo cleaned it, it’s clean.”

  Donald pointed out the window as the Gulfstream touched down. “See that ambulance?” he asked. “That must be the one. Back door’s open. They found the co-pilot.”

  Harry knew that. He knew that they’d found him alive. Another of Carla’s half-measures. On seeing the ambulance, on seeing this runway, he was able to envision a good deal more clearly what had seemed incomprehensible when Molly reported it. Not so much that Adam took out both that jet’s engines at a range of almost a mile and a half. That’s what an M-87 was for, but it’s still one hell of a shot. Adam, of course, had done things like that before. Well, not a jet maybe, but choppers, same range. What had been hardest to imagine was Claudia offering to let him rest that rifle on her shoulder. That and seeing with no scope, just her naked eye, that Adam had made two killing shots.

  Boggles the mind. That sweet girl from the ski slope. Add to that what she did at that house, busting in there with Carla, no hesitation, after hearing things that Carla couldn’t hear. And of course that knife. The throw that saved Ragland’s life.

  Donald had said, “A plain knife? Like what comes with forks and spoons?”

  “That’s the story. You doubt it?”

  “Yeah, I do,” said Donald. “That one, I’d have to see.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t count on her giving demonstrations. But look into it and tell me what you think.”

  The Gulfstream was down. It had taxied to a stop. Two rental cars were waiting near the terminal building. A man with a clipboard stood near them.

  Donald asked, “Why two cars? We’re not all going to the boat?”

  “You two get down there. Check in with Molly. I’m going to that restaurant

  where the shooting took place. I need to have a private talk with Adam.”

  “The place called Jump & Phil’s? Molly said it’s boarded up.”

  “That’s what makes it a private talk, Donald.”

  FORTY ONE

  The two owners, Jump and Phil, were there to let them in. They had long since been told that Leslie was safe and that they’d be seeing her shortly. Whistler introduced both men to his father. He introduced Jump by his true name, John Griffin, and Phil by his full name, Phil Henry.

  Harry said to them, “I hear you’ve both been good friends.”

  Jump said, “We try to please our valued customers.”

  “Well, I very much appreciate what you didn’t say.”

  “We don’t know what you mean. You guys hungry?”

  “No, we’re fine.”

  “You’re sure? We’re long on the Mustard Crusted Grouper. It was last night’s special until we had to close early.”

  “No thanks. We’re fine. A couple of scotches?”

  “Coming up,” said Phil. “Nothing else? You guys sure?”

  “No, we just need to talk.”

  “Try not to bust the place up.”

  Harry and Adam took seats at the bar. Harry asked, “Is this where you were sitting?”

  “Claudia was sitting where you are.”

  “She was here; you were there. The shooter was where?”

  “He came in that front door, walked straight through to that fireplace.”

  “All that time he was moving?”

  Whistler nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “Glad I saw this. Donald’s right. A throw like that can’t be done. No wonder people say she didn’t do it.”

  Whistler took a breath. He said, “Speaking of shooters, let’s talk about you. You were shot yourself. Everyone seems to know that but me. Is it true, and why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why would I?”

  “You’re going to make me say it? Because I’m your son.”

  “Adam, you were in basic training at the time. You were much better off where you were.”

  “Because whoever shot you was also looking for me?”

  He said, “Adam, let’s stop dancing. The man who shot me was hired; I think you know by whom. The twins settled up, but it took them two months. By that time, I was pretty much back on my feet. The story’s old news. It’s done with. Forget it.”

  “Those Hollywood people? Alicia?”

  “It’s done with.”

  “Except they left you with a souvenir. Am I right?”

  “One fragment,” said his father. He pointed. “Down here. Never gave me a problem for a good ten years afterward. Then it moved. And it lodged. It’s now in a bad place. I’m going to need some repair work.”

  Whistler looked into his eyes. “It could cripple you, correct?”

  “I’m not winning many dance contests anyway.”

  “Is paralysis possible?”

 
; “Worst case, yeah,” said Harry, “but let’s be optimistic. Either way, Adam, I’ll be down for a while. I’m going to need you to come home.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “That’s it?”

  Whistler said, “I’m your son. I’ll be there.”

  “Well, I might need you to take care of things. I might need you to help run the business.”

  “I will do whatever needs doing.”

  “No, Adam, I mean run it. First learn it, then run it. A lot of people count on me, Adam. They trust me; they’ll learn to trust you.”

  “I said I’ll be there.” Adam leaned closer. “I’ll be there as long as you try to remember that I’m not a kid anymore.”

  A grimace. “I know that. So does everyone else. I’ll try harder to show it, I promise.”

  “I’ll remind you.”

  “Will you give me two years? You and Claudia both?”

  Whistler said, “I don’t know about Claudia.”

  “You’re a package, Adam. You’re a hell of a package. And don’t say you’ll have to ask her. She’s with you; you’re with her. I’ll try to get Kate to come, too.”

  “I’m…sure she’ll be thrilled to push your wheelchair around.”

  “If I have to, I’ll ask her to marry me.”

  “You’re a shit.”

  His father winced. He said, “I didn’t mean to say it like that. The last time we spoke, the woman wanted no part of me. This episode of yours on this island did nothing to enhance her already slim interest in becoming part of the family. She just watched a guy turn into charcoal with socks.”

  “Well…” said Whistler. “She’s here. Go mend your fences.”

  “Yeah, I will. You and I can talk details later. For tonight, I have a number of people to see. Oh, and by the way, I brought Aubrey’s ledger with me. Do you care if I give it to Olivia?”

  “I wish we’d known to do that a year ago. Sure.”

  “All those names in the ledger…let the Raglands bring them down. But not Poole and Aubrey. I’ll deal with them myself. I assume you understand why.”

  Whistler nodded. He did understand. It had nothing to do with personal vengeance. His father had made an agreement with them. A deal had been struck and they broke it. For the sake of his father’s reputation, credibility, he could not allow that to go unpunished. Having those two sent to prison was never an option. His response would be swift and very final.

  His father added, “I’ll tell you, though, Adam. There are parts of this I still don’t understand. I assume you’ve figured out what Recon-JC means. That notation that appears in Aubrey’s ledger?”

  “It…only hit me a few hours ago. Reconstructionists…Crow. I finally got it.”

  “Well, I understand Poole and why he’d tie in with those people. I understand Poole siccing Crow on Philip Ragland. What I don’t understand, not me, not Molly, is why Felix Aubrey would go near the damned thing. Or why he’d break the deal by coming down here after you. Or why he’d come down here at all, for that matter.”

  “I had the same problem with that,” Whistler answered.

  “If Aubrey thought that you had tied in with Ragland, what’s the first thing that he should have done?”

  “Call you. Remind you that you have an agreement.”

  “Would he have tried to kill you before calling me?”

  “That would have been much too direct for Felix Aubrey. That man has more twists than a snake.”

  His father smiled. “Yeah, he does.”

  “Why’s that funny?”

  A shrug. “I guess I kind of enjoy the little bastard. He might have the single most devious mind that I’ve run across in my lifetime.”

  “Are you thinking of giving him a pass?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  This conversation, although basically finished, was interrupted by Jump.

  He entered the bar grinning. He said, “Leslie’s outside and there are two men with her. Is it okay with you if they come in?”

  Whistler matched Jump’s smile. He said, “Absolutely.” He’d be pleased to introduce Leslie to his father. The two men, he assumed, must be the twins, although they seldom showed up anywhere together. More then likely, one of them would come in while the other one watched from outside.

  Leslie Stewart entered through the plywood-covered door. At her elbow was Donald. He was half right so far. But behind them, hanging back, looking very ill at ease, was the man in the ugly striped jacket, Arnold Kaplan.

  Donald said to Kaplan, “Go and sit in the corner. Me and Leslie need to talk to our friends here.”

  Kaplan spread his hands in a supplicating gesture. He said, “Mr. Whistler…”

  “These are both Mr. Whistler. Now sit down and shut up.”

  “I just want them to know…”

  “Wait your turn.”

  Whistler introduced Leslie. They chatted for a few minutes. His father, as usual, turned on the charm in the presence of a young woman. In response to his performance, Leslie smiled and told his father, “Well, now I can see where Adam gets it.”

  “Gets what?” asked his father.

  “His looks. His twinkle.”

  His father made a show of being confused. He said, “Adam…has a twinkle? This Adam? Right here?”

  Donald cleared his thoat, Whistler thought, to defend him. He said, “I agree. He’s as cute as a button. But could we get some business off the table here first?”

  Donald said to Leslie, “Give us maybe ten minutes. We got just a couple of things to discuss. Then I’ll call you and we’ll talk about Kaplan. That okay?”

  “Okay,” she answered. “Can I bring him a drink?”

  “Bring him the whole bottle. He could need it.”

  Donald waited for Leslie to get out of earshot. He huddled between the two men. He said to Harry, “We were right about Aubrey. He had nothing to do with the hit on Ragland. He had nothing to do with those two meatballs who did it. He did send Lockwood down here to keep an eye on Adam after Kaplan told Lockwood…are you following this?…about what happened last night in this bar here.”

  “Which Kaplan saw,” said Whistler. “He’d been watching us for days.”

  “For a whole lot of days, but we’ll get to that later. This morning, Aubrey hears who the two loonies were. He knows that Poole was funding this weird church they belong to and also some murders these guys did. Long story about that. It’ll keep. Aubrey sees a chance to squeeze some money out of Poole, but for that he needs to make Crow disappear. He sends Lockwood down here to deep-six him. Lockwood, however, has ideas of his own and decides he’ll use Crow to kill Adam. Net-net is that Aubrey is more or less innocent. He came down here to stop both Lockwood and Crow because he knows how this was gonna look to you guys. It was Kaplan who blew the whistle on Lockwood when Lockwood decided that he’d do his own thing. He was ready to pop Crow and Lockwood himself, but he had to go along and try to keep them both busy until Aubrey could show up with some heat.”

  He added, “Oh, and by the way, Kaplan doctored Crow’s bombs. He couldn’t get to the one Lockwood put on the boat, but he wet the other two down with some Snapple.”

  “Snapple?”

  “Iced tea,” said Donald. “Which is why they mostly fizzed. Not that they were that good in the first place.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Harry. “And Kaplan’s role in snatching Leslie?”

  “Which reminds me,” said Donald, “Aubrey thought she was Claudia. This made him crazy. It’s the last thing he wanted. He really did try to contain this.”

  “Get back to Kaplan. His role in the snatch.”

  “Couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. He looked out for her, though. Lockwood intended to kill her.”

  “And Leslie knows that? Now she wants to help Kaplan?”

  “That would be the bottom line. It’s not that syndrome thing either. She says he doesn’t deserve to get hurt.”

  Harry shrugged. “Then she’s called it. Tell him he
can walk. Adam? You have any objections?”

  “Not so fast,” said Donald. “This guy’s full of information. This guy knows of at least two attempts to kill Adam, both set up by Lockwood and without Aubrey’s knowledge.”

  “Did he try to stop them?”

  “Who, Kaplan? Why should he? Anyway, he didn’t know until later. You want to know who queered those two tries on Adam’s life?”

  “I’m breathless,” said Harry.

  “Well, you should be. It was Claudia.”

  Whistler listened as Donald detailed the two attempts. The yacht that needed ice. That restaurant on Grand Cayman. Claudia, he realized, had been right in both cases.

  Donald went on. He said, “Then there’s the tracker. It was Kaplan here who arranged for that and again it was Claudia who…I don’t know…sensed it somehow and almost crowned the kid who installed it.”

  Donald saw that Adam was staring at him. Donald said, “You feel dumb? That’s progress. You should. Next time listen when that lady tells you something.”

  Whistler sat slowly shaking his head. All the other instances came flowing back. Instances in which he had doubted her. Just today, on the boat, her saying that she knew that Vernon Lockwood had been on it. Her telling him that she could smell him. Her saying, before that, how all this was tied together. She’d said, “I just feel it,” and he had dismissed her. Her saying, before that, that Sergeant Moore could be trusted. That Sergeant Moore was a friend.

  Moving that bullet. Maybe she really did that. Making Ragland more comfortable. She definitely did. Knowing that Lockwood intended to kill Leslie. Well, maybe not that one. Too easy.

  But the knife…that throw…could she do that every time? Maybe he shouldn’t have doubted that either.

  Donald was chuckling. This was also new to Whistler. He could not recall Donald ever chuckling.

  He asked Donald, “What is it?”

  “Random musings. Nothing much.”

  Whistler had also never imagined that Donald ever had random musings. He asked, “Like what? Is this more about Claudia?”

  “Yeah, a couple of things,” he said, “but first Kaplan. You know what I think we should do with him?”