Cargo for the Styx

by Louis Trimble

  She stood up abruptly. “Let’s have another drink, Zane.”

  I didn’t want another drink, but I went with her into the living room. I watched her make herself a stiff one. I said, “Where’s Aggie?”

  “I wish I knew,” she said. She took a chair and perched on the edge. “I thought I could handle this by myself. I was wrong, wasn’t I? All I’ve done is mess things up.”

  I said, “You lost me back aways.”

  She held her full glass in both hands. She said. “I told you that Aggie suddenly stopped seeing Jaspar. At the same time, he started acting a little screwy. Nervous, upset. That isn’t like Aggie. He always has control of himself. I tried to get him to tell me what the trouble was. He got sore. For the first time since we were married, he really got mad at me.”

  I began to see which way this was going. I said, “So you thought you’d find out what was eating him.”

  She gulped half her drink. She made a face and put the glass down. “To hell with that stuff,” she said. “I haven’t got time for it.”

  I just waited. She said, “Aggie wouldn’t go see Jaspar, but I kept on.” She made a face as if she’d bitten into something sour. “I even let Jaspar think I had a yen for him.” She gave me a crooked grin. “Jaspar has one good quality. He’s a gentleman. Did you ever try using your body to pry something out of a gentleman? No, you wouldn’t.”

  I agreed that I wouldn’t. She said, “I’ll make it short, Zane. I didn’t get very much information. But I did get enough to start me wondering and to let me make a few guesses.”

  I said, “You’re going to tell me that you guessed Clift was up to something with the Temoc and that he was going to make Aggie the patsy. And that Aggie got wind of the same thing. And when he did, he dropped Clift and went off to sulk by himself.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  I said, “Aggie’s wrong with it. He isn’t the kind of guy to fold his hands over his belly and watch someone build a frame around him.”

  “No, he isn’t,” she admitted. “That’s why I’m scared.”

  I said, “You think Aggie decided to take the affair in his own hands, to stop Clift? You’re afraid that Aggie might panic and go off the deep end?”

  She nodded. “I came to you last night to find out if you had connected Aggie and Clift. I also had some idea that I could get you started investigating. I thought if I could do that, Aggie might stop trying to help himself and let you do the work.”

  I said, “All Aggie thinks when he sees me is that I’m after his hide.”

  She said, “I realized that later. That’s why I kept tagging you around. I was trying to figure out some way of making you realize that Aggie wasn’t behind the set-up.”

  I said, “Is that why you helped move Prebble’s body—so I’d think you were on my side? And if you were on my side, Aggie couldn’t be guilty?”

  “That’s the way I thought,” she admitted. “And then I had the idea that if we could keep Prebble’s death from the police, there wouldn’t be a public investigation of the Temoc.”

  “That was just what you should have wanted.”

  She said, “With Aggie’s reputation? The police would have grabbed him and stopped looking. You know that, Zane.”

  I knew it. I’d felt the same way. I wasn’t sure that I still didn’t feel that way. I said, “Did you put Prebble’s body in Blimey’s place?”

  She nodded. “I hid him behind the sacks of potatoes in the storeroom. I thought I’d sneak up there tonight in my catamaran and take him away.” She looked miserable. “It wasn’t very bright, was it?”

  I said, “It could have been worse. At least, it will take the police a while to figure out he was murdered before he was blown up.”

  She shivered. “It was supposed to be your body the police found, wasn’t it?”

  I said, “That’s right. And when our little playmates missed on the first try, they took a second crack at me.”

  I had a thought. I sat and nursed it for a moment. I said, “This time they might think they made the grade.”

  Bonnie said, “You don’t look very dead to me.”

  I said, “How are they going to know? Right now, Clarence is at the bottom of the harbor—what there is left of him. The police will find him in time, but for now all there is for evidence is a little blood. That could be what’s left of me as far as Vann is concerned.”

  Bonnie said, “So you’ve got a substitute corpse. Where does it get you?”

  I said, “It gets me one step closer to figuring what the hell this is all about. I could make another step, a big one, if I could get my hands on Aggie.”

  She said earnestly, “I wish you could, Zane. I’m afraid he’s trying to clean this mess up himself. And Aggie has an awful temper.”

  I thought, Poor, innocent Aggie, out striving to keep his name clean. I said, “You’re overlooking one item. If Aggie isn’t part of this deal, he has nothing to worry about. He’s got the best defense in the world—that he doesn’t stand to profit from the Temoc.”

  “But that’s just the trouble,” she wailed. “If anything does happen to the boat, Aggie gets the whole hundred thousand in insurance.”

  I said, “Say that again.”

  She said, “Jaspar borrowed the money on the Temoc from Aggie. Later, he borrowed some more to convert the boat to a freighter. The deal was quiet, but Aggie has a paper saying that he owns the damned boat.”

  CHAPTER XV

  I SAID SLOWLY to Bonnie, “You mean that Aggie owns the Temoc?”

  She said, “Until Jaspar pays back what he owes, yes.”

  I said, “Don’t you see where that puts Aggie? Hell, Vann and Clift are the ones with the defense now. They don’t stand to make a profit off of a fraud. Not unless they’re working with Aggie—or for him.”

  “That’s the way you see it, isn’t it?” she demanded.

  I said, “That’s the way the police will see it too.”

  She wailed, “Can’t you do something?” She got up and walked to me. She dropped to her knees and put her hands on my leg. She stared up at me. I felt embarrassed. Her feeling for Aggie was naked on her face, in her eyes.

  She whispered, “Please, Zane. Believe me, Aggie isn’t in on any deals. He isn’t. He isn’t. You have to believe me!”

  I said, “I’d like to believe you. But how can I? If Aggie owns the Temoc, then he’s the only one who can profit if something happens to her.”

  She said, “There’s some other gimmick. There must be. Aggie has a lot of money. He doesn’t need any more. He’s been happy with me. Why would he risk going to jail for something he doesn’t need?”

  I could have told her about reformed bunco artists. They were like mainliners. The cure lasted only so long as there wasn’t something good dangling in front of them. Show the reformed mainliner a needle and he was off again. Show the reformed con man a mark and he couldn’t sit still.

  I could have told her, but I didn’t.

  She was digging her fingers into my leg. She said, “I’ll pay you for your time, Zane. I have a little money.” Her voice dropped. “I know it’s corny, but if you want anything else, you can have that too.”

  She touched her tongue to her lips. “Right now. Right here.” She moved her hands.

  I took her wrists and held her hands away. I got up and pulled her to her feet. She was either a terrific actress or she loved Aggie Minos so much she was sick with it.

  I said, “I never make love on an empty stomach. Get back in your chair. Go clear across the room.”

  With the deftness of a quick-change artist, she slid back into her normal character. She laughed softly. “You aren’t a statue after all.” She moved obediently back to her chair. “I mean it, Zane. Name your fee.”

  I said, “I told you, I can’t believe in Aggie’s innocence like you do. But he isn’t the whole answer. It isn’t so simple. If it was, Vann wouldn’t have to be here. Prebble wouldn’t have had to be killed. There woul
dn’t have been two attempts to murder me. So for now, I’ll go along. I’ll say I believe Aggie isn’t in it, that he’s being made a patsy. We’ll operate from that premise.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  I said, “As for my fee …”

  She said, “Do you want me to fix you something to eat first?”

  I said, “If you have to stare at me, look above my belt. And no, I don’t want you to fix me something to eat. For my fee, I want co-operation.”

  She said, “I have a gun, and I know how to use it.”

  I said, “Don’t sound so hopeful. I don’t want anybody shot. I want you to make a telephone call.”

  She walked to the phone and looked expectantly at me. I said, “Call Clift. Sound worried. Ask him if he heard the rumor that I’ve been killed. Make it sound as if you thought the boat had blown up accidentally. Boats do that sort of thing.”

  She lifted the phone from the cradle and dialed. She listened to the rings, frowning. The frown went away. She said, “Jaspar? This is Bonnie. Did you hear about the horrible accident to Mr. Zane?”

  She listened a moment. She spoke again. She listened. The conversation went on for some time. Finally she said, “By the way, is Aggie around?” Pause. Then, “I just thought he might be saying ‘bon voyage,’ “ More listening. She said good-by and hung up. She turned to me.

  “He hasn’t seen Aggie. He sounded a little huffy about it, too.”

  I said, “What else did he say?”

  “You’re dead,” she told me. “They’re going to drag for your body in the morning. Jaspar didn’t sound happy about your death.”

  “He probably thinks it was murder,” I said. “He may have arranged it, for all I know.”

  “Not Jaspar,” she said. “He’s a nice guy and a gentleman, but he isn’t very sharp. If he killed you, it would be because he got drunk or crazy mad. And he’d use his fists.”

  I said, “That doesn’t matter right now. My being dead does matter. It gives us a break. We need all the breaks we can get. So let’s go make ourselves another one.”

  “I’m all yours,” she said.

  I said, “When you say that, stop looking at me.”

  She said, “You’re awfully hard on my ego, Zane.”

  I said, “Let’s go. You follow me in the Ferrari.”

  “Go where?”

  “To your catamaran,” I said. “I want a ride.”

  We started out. In the garage, she said, “You want me to get you aboard the Temoc, don’t you? Without anyone seeing you.”

  “That’s the general idea.”

  She said, “The catamaran isn’t exactly quiet.”

  “I want Jaspar to hear you coming,” I said. “I want you to make a lot of noise so he won’t hear me when I go aboard.”

  It had turned dark outside except for the light from the rising moon. There was no moonlight in the garage. I could barely see Bonnie’s white face. I couldn’t see her mouth at all. But I could feel it. She clamped it down hard over mine. She brought her firm body against me.

  She stepped back. “I’m just saying thanks, Zane.”

  I climbed beneath the wheel of the sedan and started the motor. She got the Ferrari going. I backed out and turned around and led the way slowly down the drive to the street. I turned left and started back for Harbor Way. The Ferrari made gutty sounds as it stayed a quarter of a block behind.

  I was ready to make the turn that would take me down the hill when I saw the lights of a third car. They hung as far behind Bonnie as she was back of me. I went slowly down around the first curve and pulled tight to the curb. When Bonnie showed up, I stuck out my hand and waved her alongside.

  I said, “We’re being tailed. You keep going. Lose the other car if you can. I’ll meet you at the dock.”

  “I can lose him,” she said. She gunned the Ferrari. The taillights whipped around the curve below just as headlights splayed from above.

  I ducked down in the sedan. I heard the coming car slow. I thought for a moment it would stop. Then it picked up speed and went on. I lifted my head. I was expecting to see a black two-door. I saw the tail end of my own heap disappear around the curve.

  I started the sedan and moved as fast as the curves would let me. Once I almost rolled the sedan. After that, I slowed down. I reached Harbor Way and stopped. Light evening traffic was flowing. I couldn’t spot either the Ferrari or the heap.

  I drove on to the public dock where Bonnie had her catamaran moored. I parked the sedan in a dark slot between a big car and a truck. I walked to the front of the truck and stood in its shadow. From here I could look along the dock. I could see the catamaran bobbing at its moorage.

  There was no other boat near the catamaran. I remembered Aggie saying he kept a little sloop. I saw one yawl and a good many express cruisers. But no sloop.

  I wondered if Aggie had taken himself a cruise. I wondered where he’d gone on that cruise.

  Headlights from a car turning into the parking space lit me like a Christmas display. I decided to stop wondering and get out of here. I was dead. I couldn’t be seen standing around.

  I took my corpse and hurried it down the dock to the catamaran. I put it aboard, snug and warm in the cabin. I waited.

  CHAPTER XVI

  I WAITED, but what was I waiting for? Bonnie Minos was taking a long time to lose her tail. The way she drove that Ferrari she could have done the job in under five minutes.

  I gave her thirty minutes before I really started thinking. Thirty moved to forty-five and on to an hour. I was down to two cigarettes out of nearly a full pack.

  She’d had all the time she needed to set me up. By now she could have seen Clift and Vann if they’d been at the opposite ends of LaPlaya. She’d even had time to hire a water taxi and go out to wherever Aggie had gone in his sloop.

  I reached for my next to last cigarette. I let it dangle from my lips, the matches in my hand. A car was turning into the parking lot. It swung sideways to me. The floodlights at the land end of the dock gave me a glimpse of it. I watched it slide into a parking space. Not the Ferrari, but my own battered heap.

  So now they were coming for me. I could get out of the catamaran and try to run for it. Only there was nowhere to run. There was only water.

  I thought of taking the catamaran itself. But they would be looking for it. I wouldn’t gain anything by advertising myself.

  I struck a match. I found a locker and opened it. I saw the handle of a wrench. I wrapped my fingers around it. I straightened up, dangling the wrench. I looked up the dock to see how many there were.

  There was one. Running. Stumbling on high heels with eagerness. They didn’t figure me for much, I thought. They’d sent only one after me. A woman. Irma.

  I dropped back into darkness. I traced her coming by the sound of her footsteps. I heard her reach the catamaran and pause. I heard her step cautiously on board and move to the cabin entry.

  She said, “Martin?” Her voice was soft and unsure.

  I could see her outlined against the night. She wore the clinging jersey dress. She had a purse slung from her shoulder by a short strap. The purse was medium sized, big enough for a gun. But her hands were empty and not near the purse.

  I said, “Come on in, baby. It’s after five o’clock, so we don’t have to worry about business, And it’s Friday night. We don’t have to think about getting up in the morning.”

  She stayed where she was. “Martin, why are you talking like that?”

  “How do you want me to talk?” I demanded. “Like you wanted me to talk last night? About how much I know and how much of that I’ve passed on to Marine Mutual? Sure, come on in and listen. Like you listened when Prebble called this morning. How long after I left did it take you to phone Vann and tell him to have Prebble taken care of?”

  She whimpered, “Martin, I didn’t.”

  I moved toward her in the darknes of the cabin. I reached out my hand and clamped it down on her wrist. I jerked her off balance and
pulled her inside. I caught her purse and slid the strap down her arm. I tossed the purse to the far corner of the cabin.

  She didn’t fight me. She didn’t speak. A stray beam of light caught her face. She was looking at me, wide-eyed, her lips parted. Her expression told me nothing except that she was waiting to see what I would do with her.

  I pushed her down onto the padded bench that ran along one side of the cabin. I held her wrists down at her sides. I said, “A while ago I made up my mind that I was through being polite. Somewhere along the line today, my manners blew all to hell. But just my manners, not me. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “I don’t understand you, Martin. Why are you doing this to me?”

  I said, “Why did you do what you did to Clift? What you tried to do to me? To get yourself off the hook. Now I’m on a hook. I want off, too.”

  I could feel the tension run out of her. She went slack under the pressure I was exerting. “I should have known you’d find out about that.” She moved her head and the light touched her face again. Her eyes were pleading with me.

  “I thought I could help so you could clear everything up without learning about that.”

  “So Vann and Otho and Clift and Bonnie and Aggie would all get what’s coming to them,” I said. “And you could pick up the chips all for yourself. Is that what you hoped?”

  She made the same whimpering sound she had earlier. “That isn’t true. I don’t want anything. I just want to be left alone. I made my mistake. I paid for it. Then Vann came here and told me I had to pay again.”

  “Meaning that you work me over for information?”

  “That’s what he wanted. But I couldn’t. I told him so, Martin. I swear I told him so.”

  I said, “And Vann told you that you were a good, sweet, noble type of the kind he’s always admired and you parted friends,” I said.

  “Don’t talk that way, Martin.”

  “Then say something that makes some sense.”

  “It’s true,” she said. “Can’t you see that I didn’t know what to do? If I’d helped him, I’d be in deeper than ever. What I did to Jaspar was bad enough. What I would do to you would be worse. I just couldn’t!”