Stolen Diving Suit

by Mike Hershman

  I worked on my paperwork and was getting a little worried. Officer Keyes had been gone quite a while.

  “Go right on in fellas – say hi to Officer Bailey.”

  Officer Keyes walked in behind them and tossed a mildewed and dog-eared copy of “Early Hamilton Island,” on the desk.

  “You guys marked it up pretty good,” Officer Keyes said. “Mrs. Quigley, our Librarian is going to be mighty upset with you boys. You’re just lucky she’s not the judge around here.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” the taller man laughed. “I remember her from school – I think I had a couple overdue books. She was real tough.”

  “Well this one’s about a year overdue – ‘cept you’re not even supposed to check it out. Why don’t you boy’s sit on the bench back here? Officer Bailey will be back in a little bit to check you in our little hotel.”

  “He looks a bit young to be a policeman.” The shorter one said.

  “Well, he was old enough to catch you two clowns.” Officer Keyes laughed.

  “He did.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you Officer Bailey.” The tall one said.

  The tall guy’s name was Jeff York -- he was 22 and had moved to the island two years ago. Jeff was an abalone fisherman. The other guy was Gerald Hernandez -- he was a local, 23, who was also a commercial fisherman. Mrs. Quigley was right –he looked kinda like a Mexican Herbert Hoover. They were partners on the Scooter and said they took the diving suit when they lost theirs overboard after being hit by a rogue wave. They already had the hoses and stuff.

  “Where’re steamship logs you took from the library?” Officer Hollis asked.

  “At our apartment,” Gerald said, looking at me.

  “Why did you steal “Early Island History and the steamship logs?” Officer Keyes asked. “Something about abalone in those books?”

  “Ah.”

  “Does the name “Bolivia” ring any bells? C’mon boys, you’re only going to make this worse by lying to me.”

  “Yeah,” Gerald said, “We were looking for her. Everybody thinks she’s in deep water, but we thought she might be closer in.”

  “You know, Mr. Nolton might have sold that suit to you at a good price, hell, he gave his dinghy to George Bailey. Why would you ever steal from a library for god’s sake? Even if you can’t check the book out – you can spend a much time as you want studying it there. The judge is probably going to throw the book at you just for being so stupid.”

  “Yeah – well he’ll be right on that one,” Jeff said.

  “We’re not going to make any excuses, you caught us and what we did was dumb. Looks like we’ll be spending some time in this place,” Gerald said.

  “You just missed the judge –he’ll be here next week. Is the log in better shape than the history book?”

  “Yeah – we shouldn’t have left the book in the boat, that’s what ruined it. We figured once we found the money we’d donate some money to the library and slip some money in the Nolton’s mailbox. We were desperate and knew he wasn’t using that suit anymore.”

  “George Bailey found another copy of “Early Island History” and returned it to Mrs. Quigley.”

  “You did?” Jeff looked at me strangely.

  “Yeah, I’ll let him tell you all about it,” Officer Keyes said. “You’ll have plenty of time to talk to him. He’ll handle your pictures and your fingerprints, then I’ll take you back and introduce you to Harold.”

  “Who’s Harold?” Jeff asked.

  “Your new roommate.”

  I took Jeff’s picture first. He was 6’2”, with blonde hair and hazel eyes. I filled out the description chart. He said he weighed 195 and had muscles like a boxer – a movie star boxer that always won.

  “So you know about the Bolivia too?” He said as he turned for the profile shot.

  “Yeah, hold it right there –that’s good.” I focused the camera.

  “Where do you think it is?”

  “I’m not sure – but I don’t think it’s where you guys were diving.” I was a little nervous talking to Jeff, I mean, he’s a crook. I wasn’t sure I wanted to say much about what I knew.

  “Really George Bailey –Why?”

  “Oh, just a hunch that’s all –c’mon over here Jeff and I’ll do your fingerprints.”

  “Well you can use our boat if you want to try and find it while were in here. It’s got a compressor and everything. If that guy Nolton gave you his dinghy – maybe he’ll let you use his diving suit. I’ve got a wife and a little baby, if you find anything just pay me for the use of the boat. I can tell you everything we learned from the logs and where we think it should be.”

  “Just give me your left hand first –the little finger – relax –let me do it.” I thought about what he said. “I can’t do that Jeff – I’m a policeman.”

  “Well, could you have somebody at least look at the boat once in a while. It has a slow leak --if we’re in here too long it’ll sink.”

  “Don’t you have friends that can check out for it?”

  “It’s me and Gerald and my wife and baby. Most of the guys I knew on the island are over on the mainland trying to find work.”

  “Don’t worry, my friend Walt works at the paddleboard dock, I’ll have him keep an eye on it.”

  “Can you have him run the engine every couple of days to keep the battery charged? I can write out some instructions.”

  “Sure --we can do that.”

  I finished Gerald’s info: 5’7” –175 –Black hair –Brown eyes, tattoo, anchor right arm. When I was done I, Officer Keyes and I let them back to the cell and introduced them to Harold.

  “Don’t worry Jeff – we’ll check on the boat tonight.”

  When we got back in the front office Officer Keyes told me to run up to Jeff’s apartment and pick up the ship’s logs. Jeff said his wife Doris would be there and to let her know he was in jail. Jeff, of course, didn’t have a phone

  “Jeff and Gerald aren’t bad guys – they were desperate and made a big mistake. We don’t have any record here on either of them – no poaching – not even any drinking problems. Go ahead and keep an eye on their boat. They sure don’t need that thing to sink right now.” Officer Keyes said.

  25.

  Early one morning we took our dinghy back down by the paddleboard dock. Walt handed down our outboard motor and I hooked it back up.

  “Don’t forget to pull the choke out.”

  I did and it started right up. Walt hopped in – then we headed out to the Scooter to check her out.

  “Jeff said the ignition key is under the helm seat cushion.” I said.

  “I can’t believe we’re helping those crooks – we should probably let the boat sink.”

  “ I picked up the ship’s logs the other day and met Jeff’s wife and their little baby,” I said. “They only had one old torn sofa in the front room. His wife, Doris, is a nice lady and the place was really clean. When I told her Jeff was in jail she couldn’t stop crying. She was almost out of money and needed some money for milk.” I steered the dingy to the swim-step of the Scooter.

  “God, this thing is a mess.”

  The boat was old with peeling paint. It was about 20 feet long with a small forward cabin, which was accessed by a padlocked door with flaking varnish. There were two small motorcycle tires with ropes attached on the deck--- used for bumpers. The boat reeked of diesel oil and fish.

  “Here’s the key,” I said, lifting the cushion, “Walt, open that engine hatch,” I pointed to a large wood box positioned in the middle of the large cockpit.

  “This is a good dive boat – it’s real open in back,” he said, as he opened the hatch, “Geez George Bailey—come look – there’s a lot of water in this thing.”

  “We better start her up and get the bilge pump going.”

  “You think this rusty old thing is going to start?” He said looking at the engine.

  “Sure,” I lied.

&nbs
p; We found the battery switch and turned it on. It took about three tries and the engine finally sputtered to life. There was a large black cloud of smoke behind us. If finally cleared – we both looked down at the rattling rust brown engine.

  “I can see where that diesel smell is coming from-- that fuel line’s right there,” I said, pointing to a cracked rubber hose. “It’s leaking.”

  “It’s just a small section,” Walt said. “We’ve got some that size over in the office – I can fix it tonight if you want.”

  “Yeah, I’ll let Jeff know -- look,” I said pointing to a stream of water exiting the side of the boat. “The bilge pump is working.”

  “I wonder where she’s leaking – could be anywhere on this old tub. Maybe we can clean this thing up a little –how long to you think their gonna be in jail?”

  “Officer Keyes says it’s their first offense, or, at least, the first time they ever got caught. “He thinks 60 days or so, maybe more.”

  “What about Jeff’s wife?”

  “Oh, I told my mom about her – the ladies from our church are taking up a collection. Course it’s hard right now to raise much money– with the depression and everything.”

  “Yeah. We better keep this boat in good shape for them – those guys are going to need to make some dough when they get out.”

  Walt and I met after work and went back out to the Scooter, we brought a one-foot section of hose –Walt’s boss donated it. We also brought some tools.

  26.

  “Here’s your sandwiches,” I said as I opened the door to the jail cells.

  “Thanks, George Bailey --- is Officer Keyes in his office?”

  “No, he’s out on patrol – you guys planning a break-out.”

  “Yeah, I figured we’ll overpower the kid and swim across the channel,” Jeff said.

  “That’s right it’s only 22 miles,” Gerald said. “ ’Course Harold, the short timer, won’t go – he’s only got a week left.”

  “One’s roast beef, the others are chicken—who gets the roast beef?”

  “It sure as hell ain’t going to be Harold,” Gerald said.

  “How’s our boat George Bailey?”

  “Walt and I checked on it last night, he’s thinking about diving on the boat tomorrow night and cleaning the bottom. It’ll move faster in the water if we clean the barnacles off.”

  “Those barnacles are probably holding hands keeping that old barge afloat.” Harold laughed.

  “Hey George Bailey,” Jeff yelled, before I walked out the door.

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell Walt thanks for everything. You guys are the greatest.”

  I looked at Jeff, his eyes were real watery --it made me embarrassed.

  “It’s nothing, really, it’s fun to work on your boat.”

  “Doris told me your Mom and her friends have really been a big help too.”

  I smiled and waved, then went back to work in the office. The judge was coming over tomorrow on the boat to decide their sentence. Officer Keyes planned on having coffee with him in the morning before court.

  It was strange, aside from some drunks -- the only guys who’d spent any time in the jail were three pretty good guys. I just wished there was some way I could help them when they got out so they could make a living.

  I kept thinking about the “Bolivia,” sitting somewhere on the bottom of the ocean with all that silver bullion.

  Officer Keyes came in from patrol.

  “How’re the boys doing back there?”

  “I just gave them lunch – they’re OK, I think Gerald and Jeff are pretty worried about tomorrow.”

  “Well, they should be, Judge Potts is a tough old bird – he doesn’t care too much for thieves.”

  “What do you think they’ll get?”

  “He gave Harold 30 days for snatching some money out of a cash register. I think probably 60 days.”

  “Will they go over to the mainland?”

  “We can probably keep ‘em. Worse case they’d have to double up in one cell if we get crowded.”

  “I’m sure they’d do that. Jeff would sure like to stay close to Doris.”

  “I’ll talk to the Judge -- he usually wants to hear what I think.”

  Walt and Sharon stopped by the garage after work, and watched while I oiled the wheels on the trailer.

  “I’m going to go to the court tomorrow and sit with Doris.” Sharon said. “She’s been looking for work and I told her I’d help with the baby if she gets a job. I kind of feel bad that we helped put her husband in jail. That’s one of the hard parts about this detective deal.”

  “Yeah,” Walt said, “ I like it better when the crooks are bad guys like Officer Hollis and those bootleggers last year. It’s hard now -- nobody has any money. ‘Course that doesn’t mean you should steal stuff.”

  “I was thinking,” I said. “Do you think we could help them find the “Bolivia” when they get out? I don’t know how it works -- who does the stuff on that ship belong to? If the bullion belonged to the bank and they still exist, do they get the bullion?”

  “I think it’s finders keepers on shipwrecks,” Walt said. “What’s the name of that bank again?”

  “Motherlode Bank.” I said.

  “Maybe Mrs. Quigley would know.” Sharon said.

  “Mrs. Quigley -- she doesn’t know everything Sharon.”

  She looked hard at Wally and then at our bamboo trailer.

  “Wanna bet?”

  27.

  “All rise! All rise! The Hamilton Island Municipal Court is now in session,” the red faced bailiff in a too tight beige uniform shouted. “The Honorable Judge Felix J. Potts presiding.”

  First came a couple of public drunkenness cases and an illegal consumption of alcohol charge against an 18 year-old tourist. The fines ranged from $15 to $30. They were pretty heavy fines – the average worker didn’t make $30.00 a week.

  When their case came up, Jeff and Gerald came forward.

  Judge Potts read the charges – two counts of burglary. He looked over the top of his gold-rimmed reading glasses – his big mustache twitching. He looked like an old harbor seal sitting on a buoy.

  “Guilty.” Said Jeff.

  “Guilty.’ Said Gerald.

  Doris, sitting next to Sharon, sniffled a little. The judge glanced over to Doris and then at the two men.

  “The sentence is 30 days with credit for time served.”

  Doris smiled. They’d been in a week already. Three weeks more was workable.

  “I can’t believe you guys got the same sentence I did.” Harold said as he was being discharged. Harold’s brother had sent him some money. There was work available on the Columbia damn project and Harold was expected there next week.

  “I’ll hop a freight in L.A. and save some money.”

  “Heck, just take the train, Harold,” Officer Keyes said. “You got enough money, you don’t want some railroad detective throwing you in jail again or, even worse, beating you up.”

  “Yeah, those railroad boys can be tough,” Gerald said.

  “If you want to save some dough – take the bus,” Jeff said.

  “Hell, I’ll be on it forever. So long boys – good luck finding your lost treasure.”

  “You too, Harold.”

  “See ya, George Bailey – you’ll make a great detective some day.”

  “See ya, Harold.” I said as I opened the front door for him. “Good luck.”

  “What did he mean --- some day – you make a pretty good detective right now as far as I’m concerned.” Jeff said.

  “Me too,” said Officer Keyes.

  28.

  “OK boys, here’s what we’re going to do,” Officer Keyes said, “I checked with Judge and we’re going to let you guys work on your boat during the day. You’ll have to spend the night in jail. If either of you get in any trouble or don’t show up in time, we’re tacking another 30 days on, which you’ll spend on the mainland. I don’t want you guys getting soft
lying around your damn bunks all day. From what George Bailey tells me, you’re going to need to work on the old scow.”

  “Thanks Officer Keyes, we won’t forget what you’ve done for us. Don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere.”

  “Go ahead and use our dinghy to get to the boat. Just tell Walt you’re escaping.” I said.

  Sharon stopped by the office.

  “I checked with Mrs. Quigley,” she said. “Motherlode Bank still exists. I told her what you were concerned about. She looked up the Admiralty Law. If you recover most of the items on that ship you won’t have any problem keeping it. It wasn’t so long ago so the state won’t claim some historical significance to it. The judges are usually on the side of whoever recovers the salvage –they took the risk. The bullion might be a different issue. The bank or their insurance company could take you to court to recover – chances are you wouldn’t recover all of the bullion and if it’s just a small amount they probably wouldn’t do anything.”

  “There’d probably still be a reward in any event.” Officer Keyes said. “Just bring everything you find in here and we’ll sort it out. You think you know where that ship is, George Bailey?”

  “I think so, but it may be too deep.”

  “I think you guys have another case –recovering the stolen bullion for Motherlode Bank. I may have some extra help for you – for the next three weeks –I’ll talk to the judge.”

  “Maybe they’ll want to find it on their own when they get out.” I said.

  “They’ll never find it without you – we’ll see they get their share. Just be sure they’re home by 7:00 every night or I go after them.”

  Walt ran in the office.

  “Just thought you guys would like to know that your prisoners escaped.”

  “Yeah, but you took your time getting here,” Officer Keyes said, “ I guess you’ll have to take their place.”

  When Jeff and Gerald came back from the boat, Officer Keyes told them his plan.

  “Heck, we’ve been talking and we can’t spend the next few years looking for a stupid boat that might be sitting in 500 feet of water. We’ll probably need to head up to that Columbia River job ourselves. ‘Course we’ll have to hop a freight.