Captain Dead Man

by Wendy Meadows

  Mac asked him if he knew of anyone at all who would have had a grudge against Captain Eddy. Scully replied that he couldn’t think of anyone who did not like him. The man was in a sorrowful, shaken state, and Brenda thought it was hard to read his true expressions. He was given the same instructions not to leave town that Captain Pratt received.

  When the door closed, Mac said to Brenda “Well, that seems like another dead end. I mean, we definitely need to question Wally and his crew, but Scully’s not on the top of my list after that. Bryce is next. He’s not too happy about coming in to be interrogated but I’m following protocol.” Brenda could tell Mac dreaded this next interview. She realized she had no good excuse to leave before it happened, as they still had hours to go before their fireworks date that night.

  “He told me earlier that he expected to be questioned. He’s a detective himself, so he shouldn’t be so upset about it all. And you’re right when you say he should understand why he’s a person of interest when he was on the boat that was the crime scene.” She looked over her notes briefly as Mac got up to look through the small window in the door to see if Bryce had arrived yet.

  “I have a theory about my old friend Bryce, Brenda. I think his captainship wasn’t just about racing the boat. I think he wanted to be on the inside looking at clues instead of on the outside. I can’t let him do that because of his ties with the race. Chief Ingram agrees with me and advised me not to include him in the investigation.” Brenda finally told him to stop over-analyzing it all. Bryce should be interrogated just like anyone else and Mac didn’t have to create elaborate theories to justify that. Mac stopped short of his retort to Brenda on this point when he caught a glimpse of Bryce coming down the hall toward the interrogation room. He sat back down at the table next to Brenda as Bryce walked in.

  Detective Bryce Jones’ face was clouded as if a storm was pending. He sat down and Mac shifted back in his chair.

  “I know you aren’t happy to be on that side of the table, Bryce, but you were involved in the boat race. I hope you understand.”

  Bryce gave a half-smile. “I know you’re doing your job, Mac. I’ll try to do my best. I almost drowned out there, you know. I may not look shaken up but I was awake most of the night after it all happened. That kind of thing...it changes you a little,” he finished, looking away.

  “I understand that,” said Mac, “and I’m sincerely happy you were safely rescued before the boat went down. You were in a dangerous situation out on those waters and could have been pulled under if you tried to swim away.” The detective moved forward in his chair. “The first question I have is not about the boat accident, however. I need to know why you were so anxious to get onto Eddy’s boat while we were searching for clues?”

  “I was told by David Williams that he was sure the race would go forward as planned and on time. I happily volunteered to take Eddy’s place – Mac, you know I’ve always wanted to race a sailboat – and he told me to look the boat over to get a good feel of it before the race.”

  Bryce said this casually, but Brenda saw that his and Mac’s eyes were locked. Mac said evenly, “I know you understand how important it is that no one should intrude on a crime scene until the forensic investigation is completed.” Bryce nodded. “Now that the boat is at the bottom of the ocean, we have very little evidence to go on. As a fellow detective, I’m surprised you didn’t insist on delaying the race so we could get the work done.”

  “I had nothing to do with that decision. Frankly, that small of a crime scene would not have taken so long in my department in Brooklyn. I still don’t know what was taking you so long.” As he said this, Brenda could see Mac’s jaw clench with suppressed anger. “But also, I was not part of the investigation, as you made very clear to me. It was David and the race officials who went to the judge to get the order. I too was surprised the judge ruled so quickly.”

  Mac let the silence after Bryce’s words stretch out a little bit until it was uncomfortable. Then, he continued.

  “Why do you think the boat sank?”

  “I have no idea. Like I told Brenda, I saw a little water coming in, but I thought it was from normal waves hitting the side of the boat during the race, or from the cops who were walking on and off the boat during the investigation. Suddenly, it started coming in really fast and that’s when I knew I was in trouble and radioed for help.”

  Brenda noticed that his recounting of the water coming in, just like when they had spoken in the library, was quick and without many details. She had to wonder if that was normal for someone who had survived a disastrous sinking, or if he was skipping over details on purpose. Since they had no way to know, they would have to continue to treat him as innocent and just hope that he tripped up, if he truly had something to hide.

  “Have you overheard anyone in town speaking about the matter? I mean in a way that may shed light on who did it?”

  “If I had picked up on anything, Mac, I would be right in here to tell you. I’ve heard nothing unusual. People are in mourning for a local hero. Captain Pratt has been taking a lot of walks along the beach according to some talk around town, both he and Scully have taken it pretty hard.”

  Mac excused him after Bryce stated in conclusion that he couldn’t imagine who would have murdered the captain. After all, he had been living in Brooklyn for years and did not visit Sweetfern Harbor very often anymore. On his way out, he winked at Brenda and lingered in the doorway for a moment.

  “I sure wish I had won that loot,” he said with a smile that could have charmed a nun. “If I had, I would have showered you with anything your heart desired. We could have gone out on the town together.” He ducked into the hall and disappeared just as Mac Rivers made a sound behind her that was easy to read.

  When Brenda closed the door behind him, Mac spoke, ignoring the flirtatious behavior he had just witnessed. “I wonder about his statements in regard to not knowing how the boat sank. Something is not sitting right with me about Bryce Jones.”

  “He seems sincere when he says he has no idea how it sank, even though he doesn’t have very many details about how it happened. But Mac, if Bryce had anything to do with the sinking, why would he have put himself out on the water like that?”

  Mac crossed his arms over his chest and mused for a moment. “Maybe he thought the leak would be a slow one. He would win the race and the boat would sink at the finish line, or later that night. He was quite a distance ahead of the other two until he started taking on water so quickly.”

  Brenda still felt there was a missing piece. “How would he have known about the leak, but not how fast it would happen? Do you think he was working with someone else? Do you think he could hide something that big?”

  “I don’t have an answer for that, Brenda. It’s just that something isn’t right when it comes to Bryce and his flawless manner of getting to captain that boat at the last minute like that. Wally Doyle will be here in about forty-five minutes. Let’s go grab a bite to eat and take a break.”

  Brenda agreed and they walked down Main Street to Morning Sun Coffee. Most of the tourist crowd had thinned out. Molly was busy with a customer and waved at them when they entered. They sat down and ordered chicken salad sandwiches and lemonade. Mac changed his drink to coffee at the last minute and the server made the notation. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly as they sat down with their food and drinks.

  “Whoever killed Eddy,” said Mac, “meant for the evidence to be lost. It must have been someone who knows boats well.” He took a grateful sip of his coffee and seemed a little more revived.

  “I agree with that. Someone who knew how to sabotage a boat without an explosion of some sort. Or at least we have to assume so, unless divers can salvage anything from the bottom of the harbor.”

  Mac grimaced. “The Chief found out that we have to get a special crew to come in because of how deep the harbor is at that spot. The state’s diving crew was working another job up the coast so it might take them a couple more days to get t
he marine salvage operation going. I’m not even convinced we’ll find anything in that wreck, anyway. But ignoring the boat for a minute, how did the murderer come and go unseen on Captain Eddy’s boat at the harbor?”

  “It tells me he was someone familiar around the harbor,” Brenda said, setting down her half-eaten sandwich. “If he was familiar to those down there, he wouldn’t have been noticed as a stranger in the area. Aside from the captains and the race officials, we have the boat building crew. I wonder what would be some of the reasons for a boat to sink.”

  “That’s something to ask Wally when he comes in. I guess we’d better get back to work. Are you finished?” Brenda stated she was ready. They returned to the police station and were just getting set up in the interrogation room again when a police officer poked his head in the door and let them know that the boatwright had arrived.

  The fifty-two-year-old man was shown down the hallway of the police station. Wally Doyle’s physique was fit and solidly muscled, revealing the hardy work of his lifelong trade. His salt and pepper hair was thick and wavy. Dark eyebrows and deep-set brown eyes emphasized his tanned face. He greeted Brenda and Mac in a friendly tone and sat down across from them.

  Brenda and Mac thanked him for coming in and extended their sympathies for the loss of his friend Captain Eddy. Brenda could see from Wally’s expressive eyes that he, too, had been hard hit by Eddy’s death. “Everyone in town is well-acquainted with your skills in boat building, Wally,” Mac said. “But Brenda is new to town, so perhaps she doesn’t know.” The men’s eyes swiveled to Brenda.

  “That’s true. Have you been at your trade long?” she asked.

  Wally chuckled and nodded. “I’ve been building boats since I was around fifteen years old. Of course, I didn’t start out actually building them, but my father taught me the basic skills from that age. I started as an apprentice and worked my way up to become a master woodworker and shipwright. I still work in the workshop near the harbor that I inherited from my father after his death. The work is something I never get tired of doing and I like to think my skills improve with every boat I build.”

  Brenda commented on the beauty of Captain Eddy’s boat. “It was the first of the three we had time to tour. As you know, we found his body that morning and so that halted everything.”

  Wally’s eyes grew serious. “It was bad enough the boat was destroyed, but worse that someone killed one of the finest seamen I’ve ever known. Eddy was well liked and he knew what he was doing out on the waters. I can’t imagine who would have wanted him dead.”

  “I have questions regarding the boat itself,” Mac said. “Do you have any idea why the boat would have sunk?”

  Wally shook his head slowly as if still in shock one of his boats ended in such a disastrous manner. “I won’t know what happened unless the boat can be brought up from the harbor. I checked each of those boats thoroughly just a few hours before it was time for the race. I believe it was around eight in the morning. I would have to look in my records to get the exact time. I had to sign off on an inspection sheet for the race officials. Everything was perfect and the boats were ready.”

  “How friendly were you with Captain Eddy?” asked Mac.

  “I knew all three of the captains quite well from working closely together on ship repairs over the years and building these new boats. We were all excited about the race. They were in their element and us seamen love nothing more than a friendly ear who will listen to us go on about our ships,” he said fondly and a little bit sadly. “We all looked forward to the competition. It’s the biggest event in Sweetfern Harbor in the summertime.”

  “Did any one of the three indicate trouble ahead?” Brenda asked. Wally asked for clarification. “I mean did any of them say something that might have told you things might be amiss? Perhaps facial expressions were different or maybe one of them said something that was out of context?”

  Wally shook his head. “There was nothing different from any other year. Scully and Pratt ribbed each other as usual about their certainty of winning. Eddy chimed in a little but his mannerisms never spilled over like the other two. Eddy was always quieter and he was a thinker more than outwardly carrying on like Scully and Pratt. He had a few wins under his belt, too. They often raced away from Sweetfern Harbor, but no races equaled the popularity this one holds.” He paused. “In answer to your question, everything seemed as normal as usual before a big race like this one.”

  “If they’re able to bring the boat up,” Mac said, “it will be a while before you can go over it to see what caused it to sink.”

  Wally said he understood. “I just want to know what happened. I can say for sure that the boat was in top shape before the race.”

  After he was excused, Mac invited Brenda back to his office where they discussed Wally Doyle and went over their notes.

  “I’m going to go back down to the harbor as soon as possible. I want to ask some of the business owners along the harbor if they saw Wally and the captains together earlier that day.”

  Brenda agreed it was a good idea. “We didn’t see any of them down there that morning since they were all at Morning Sun by the time we toured.” She picked up a pen on Mac’s desk and tapped it lightly on his desk. “I don’t think Wally had anything to do with Eddy’s murder. But we should still talk to his crew of workers, just in case.”

  Mac wanted to play Devil’s Advocate about Wally’s possible involvement, but in the end, he brushed over that idea when they heard David Williams’ voice from the front. Brenda glanced at the clock and saw that they still had plenty of time for another interview. When the clerk buzzed Mac’s office, he told her to take the race official to the same interrogation room as before.

  “I’ve asked Brenda to sit in on the interrogations,” Mac said as they entered and sat down across from the race official. David indicated he had no problem with that.

  “I know what you did with the case of Ellen Teague’s murder. I’m anxious to get to the bottom of this one, too, like the rest of the town,” said David.

  Mac asked him where he had been in the time frame already established. David told them he was down on the docks with his fellow race officials. As an anchor on the local news, David was not only calling the race, but acting as the on-air race commentator for the live broadcast of the sailboat race. “I had the cameraman with me. We were filming everything that had to do with the race. I was due to go live. As the head race official, I had to monitor the whole race and pronounce the winner at the end, of course.”

  “Did you go onto the boats or just film close up?” Brenda asked.

  “To tell you the truth, water is not my thing…I was raised close to the ocean and I did learn to swim as a child, but it’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed being in the water. I did go onto Scully’s boat since it was expected of me if I wanted to tell the story of the race. I have to admit my legs wobbled a little.”

  “Where does that fear come from?” Brenda asked, curious to see this fear in an otherwise confident man.

  He rolled his eyes a little at himself and then settled in. “I may as well tell you the story. Most people around here recall it like it happened yesterday. As a kid, I was fascinated with boats. Until I was a teenager the water was my heaven on earth. Then one day several of us skipped school to take a sailboat out. It belonged to my best friend’s father. While we were on the water, a storm came up and I was washed overboard. Things flew from the boat and a small cooler flipped out and hit me on the head. I was partially knocked out but not enough that I didn’t know I was drowning. It seemed hours before I was rescued by one of the boys. They thought it was funny. What do teenagers know about head injuries? Two of them pulled me in but it left a deep scar of fear in me.”

  “So ever since then, you lost your love of boats?” Brenda watched his eyes.

  “I remain fascinated with boats of all kinds. It’s the water I fear. I’ve never been out on the water since that incident.” He seemed distracted and
changed the subject. “I’m sorry, Mac, about how aggressive I was in getting the court order to go forward with the race. I regret it now but I got caught up in the momentum of the crowd and the race itself. You have no idea what kind of pressure we were under financially when we realized how much we would owe the crowd in refunds. The race fund would probably go bankrupt and my fellow race officials and I realized that this might be the last year ever for the race, if that happened.”

  “What’s done is done,” said Mac. “I’m more concerned now that the evidence has been washed away. I knew the crime scene would be contaminated during the race, but when the boat sank, I knew we would have very little to go on, even if we could raise the boat.” Even though his voice was calm, Brenda sensed that Mac remained upset with David and the judge. She couldn’t blame him. This case was frustrating enough without losing evidence that could point to the killer. “I’ll have to check on your alibi, David. The fact that you were filming will be in your favor.” He told David he was free to go.

  As Mac shuffled his notes into a pile, Brenda watched David leave with a sinking feeling that these interviews were not generating the leads that they needed. They would have to find another way to crack the case.

  7

  Discovery

  Mac and Brenda walked back to his office. “Let’s go talk with Allie about her dad’s alibi,” said Brenda. “Then we can stop by Sweet Treats and talk with Hope. I don’t know David all that well except for what I’ve seen of him on television. I’d like to see a more personal side of him.”

  “I think he’s a good guy all around, but he’s not a personable person in public. Except in front of an audience, of course.”