The Amorous Attorney (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 2)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  Chapter 25

  Aboard the Jules Verne

  Thursday, May 28, 1953

  That afternoon

  Mike took a bite of the sandwich that Carter brought for him and asked, "Where are your men?"

  Nacho looked around for a moment and then said, "There are three. Two are helping the crew and one came with me." He seemed to be out of his element, which was a very disconcerting thing to watch.

  Mike wiped his mouth, stood up, and said, "Nick and Carter, get your guns. Nacho, come with me. We need to find your men."

  The captain smiled and said, "Yes. Let's go." They headed forward from the lounge.

  Carter and I went below deck and got our pistols. Once we were armed, I made a circle in the air signal with my finger. Carter nodded and followed me.

  The crew's quarters were also below deck but a wall separated us from them. There was no way to go from one section to the other.

  We looked in the small room that was the most forward in our section. It was just a storage room, filled with linens and cleaning supplies. It was otherwise empty.

  We silently checked our suite, again, just in case. No one to be found, not in the head, nor in the closet, nor under the bed.

  We moved to the head just aft of our suite. It was empty, as well.

  I pushed open the door to Mike's cabin with the tip of my pistol. The bed showed ample evidence of Mike and his crewman buddy at play all morning. Carter went to look in the small closet. I was bending over to look underneath the bed, when I heard a loud boom.

  I looked up and saw Carter pressed against the wall where the closet was located. His gun was pointed down. I heard footsteps running up the steps.

  "You OK?"

  He looked shocked but nodded.

  I asked, "Did he hit you?"

  "No. It was Nacho."

  "Probably not. Let's go."

  We ran down the short hall and jumped up the steps to the main deck. There was a ruckus coming from the lounge.

  I motioned Carter back as we walked slowly forward. I could see inside the window and, even though I knew they looked alike, was still surprised. It looked like Nacho was holding a gun to Nacho's head. But it was Berto holding the gun. He was in a coat and tie. And he looked angry.

  I could hear the running feet of the crew around the ship. I looked forward. Captain Jennings and his mate were moving towards us. Both were armed. I looked down at the moving water, briefly wondering who was piloting the ship. I motioned to them to stay in place, which they did.

  I could hear Mike saying something, but his words were muffled by the wind and the sound of the engines.

  I slowly walked forward and came to the edge of the lounge door. Berto saw me and pointed his police Colt in my direction.

  He barked, "No!"

  I lowered my gun. "Berto. Let your brother go."

  Mike was standing on the other side of the door with his gun pointed right at Berto. But he didn't have a clear sight. I thought I might try to agitate Berto enough for him to forget what he was doing. It was risky. He could kill any of us if he got too agitated.

  "No. He is making problems for me."

  "What problems?" I asked.

  "The gringo actor."

  "Did you kill him?"

  He smiled an awful smile but didn't reply.

  "Why is that a problem, then?"

  "Nacho asks too many questions." He pushed the pistol against his brother's head.

  "But, think, Berto. He's your brother."

  Berto grinned. It was not pretty.

  "His investigations. So important. Why be the captain, when you can be the king, no?"

  I wasn't sure I followed.

  "I tell my brother." He started waving the Colt around as he talked. "You can be Governor of Baja California. This Maldonado. He is stupid. I kill him."

  Nacho looked cool, which was impressive. He said very evenly, "You know me, Berto. You know why I cannot be a politico. You know."

  Berto turned the Colt on me. "You are the same, no?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow move across one of the open windows behind Berto. I kept my focus on the two brothers and didn't look at the back wall or the windows.

  "Maybe I should kill you. Fewer maricones. Is a good idea, no?"

  I said, "No. Killing me won't help you. Killing your brother won't help you, either."

  This agitated him. He shifted his stance and put the gun to his brother's head again.

  "No?"

  I nodded and said, "No. Put down your gun. We can work this out. You can come to the States and work for me. I have more money than you'll ever make here."

  Berto grinned again. "You want another boy to play with?" He looked over at Mike. "You are his boy, no?"

  Mike shook his head. "Nick is my friend."

  "But you are all the same? Malditos maricones, no?"

  Mike didn't say anything. I had no idea what those words meant, but they didn't sound good since Berto spat them out.

  I kept my eyes on Berto, but could see Carter slowly moving his pistol into place. He was aiming so that he would get Berto and avoid the rest of us.

  I took a deep breath. I wanted to keep Berto talking and standing in one place.

  "So, what do you do after you kill Nacho? You won't make it off this ship alive. If you put down your gun--"

  There was a loud boom. Carter's gun exploded and I saw a spray of blood and gore cover the wall behind Berto. He looked shocked and then he fell back. And, as he did, his gun went off.

  From where I was standing, I could see the bullet go into Nacho's back at an angle. It didn't exit through his chest or his shoulder. Nacho looked surprised but stood where he was.

  I put my gun down on the table and moved over to grab him before he fell. His luminescent eyes were open, but he didn't really seem to be seeing anything. He was obviously in pain but said nothing.

  I grabbed him by the side and looked at his back. It wasn't good. He was losing blood quickly. I looked around and found some towels on a shelf. I grabbed them and pressed on his back.

  Mike was right there and helped us sit down. Nacho was in front of me, between my legs, as I held him. I hugged him, using my chest and arms to push on the towels and apply enough pressure to hopefully staunch the flow of blood. My face was pressed against the back of the right side of his face. It was warm but clammy. Through my hands, I could feel his labored breath and his stuttering heart.

  Carter was suddenly standing above me, along with Captain Jennings. I looked up and shook my head.

  Carter sat down in front of Nacho and took his left hand. I heard Nacho whisper, "Un beso."

  Carter looked confused. Captain Jennings said, "He wants a kiss."

  I looked at Carter. He reached his large hand around Nacho's neck and leaned in gently. I could see his face compress the large mustache as his lips pressed against the other man's. His eyes locked on mine. Nacho didn't kiss back but, when I looked down, I could see the trace of a smile on his face.

  "Be good to Nick," he whispered. Carter kept his face close and said, "I will, Nacho."

  The dying man lifted up his right hand, touched my face and then put it on Carter's and held it there. "Maybe next time, amigos?"

  He sighed and I could feel that he was gone. His hand dropped to his side. His breathing stopped and so did his heart.

  Epilogue

  Aboard the Jules Verne

  Thursday, May 28, 1953

  Sunset

  When we got to the harbor in Ensenada, the sun was setting. In all the excitement, Nacho's men had abandoned him completely by taking the rubber dinghy with the outboard motor. Mike had a couple of theories about how Berto got aboard, but I frankly didn't give a damn.

  Captain Jennings called the Mexican Coast Guard, who notified the Federales. They boarded when we moored in the harbor. Mike took over the explanations. They asked Carter to write out a deposition explaining why he had shot Berto. I had to write out a deposition about what I saw. Mi
ke and Captain Jennings had to do the same. The Federales captain emphasized the importance of sticking to the facts, beginning with the appearance of Berto and concluding with Nacho's death. We were not asked to explain why any of this happened.

  Once this was done, it was nearly 10. The Coast Guard had left earlier. The Federales removed the bodies but did no other investigation other than taking Carter's pistol. I didn't think it would be returned. We gave addresses and phone numbers. We were then asked to leave the country as soon as possible. I told the captain that we would be leaving in a few hours.

  I asked him about Rhonda and Juliet. He told us that they had been asked to leave the country and were driving back to L.A., according to what they had told him. I thanked him for the news. He nodded, tipped his hat, and departed in the launch that brought him.

  After he was gone, I went forward to see Captain Jennings, who was looking a bit wan, but was fortifying himself with a shot of rye.

  "Can I offer you some, Mr. Williams?"

  I shook my head. "No. I have a lot to do in the next hour or so. But, please, don't stand on ceremony."

  He lifted his glass to me and said, "To the brave captain."

  I felt my eyes misting up. "Yes. To Nacho."

  Captain Jennings downed his shot, banged it on the wooden ledge, and asked, "What can I do for you, sir?"

  "You can give me the best way to contact Mr. Deladier. I want to buy this ship."

  The captain looked surprised. "Even after all that happened today?"

  "There's nothing that a little soap, water, and elbow grease can't get out."

  The captain shrugged. "But--"

  "I know. I want to buy this ship, retain her crew, move it to San Francisco as soon as you can get underway, and rename it."

  "What name did you have in mind?"

  "The Flirtatious Captain."

  Captain Jennings looked at me for a split-second and then roared in laughter. "I couldn't think of a better name. You'll get some ribbing at every port."

  "And so will you."

  He sobered for a moment. "I will. But I can take it. He was quite a man, your captain."

  I smiled at his use of "your."

  . . .

  Mike stayed aboard. I figured that he had a date with a certain crewman.

  Carter and I took a fast launch offered by the Federales captain before he'd left. They wanted to keep an eye on us. One of the officers drove us to the hotel from the marina. I wanted to settle our bill and make a couple of calls.

  When we pulled around the front, it was just past midnight. The door was open but no one was there to greet us.

  We walked through the lobby and up to the reception desk. It was vacant so I banged the bell a couple of times. There was a sound from the back and a very sleepy Marge came around. When she recognized us, she laughed. "I was wondering when I might see you two again."

  Carter said, "Hello Marge." He gave her the 4-star drawl.

  She blushed.

  I said, "I hope you didn't think we had skipped." She waved her hand at that. "Even if you had, you brought us more business than we've had in a while."

  I looked at her and said, "I pay my bills. Do you take this Diners' Club card?"

  "As a matter of fact, I do."

  I handed it over to her. She spent several minutes taking care of that. Finally, she presented the full bill. I asked, "Does this include the charges for Taylor Wells?"

  "No. Eddie Mannix wired that in today."

  I was not surprised. "Metro always pays their bills on time."

  She looked grim. "He also told me he's telling his people to stay away from here. He's going to send them all to Acapulco."

  I shrugged. "I doubt you'll even notice."

  "You're right about that."

  I looked at her. "Are you going to sell?"

  She sighed. "I don't know. I'm leaving that to my husband to sort out."

  "I hope you can get out before Maldonado becomes governor."

  She nodded.

  "I need to place a couple of calls before we go."

  "Sure. Since you've paid already, they'll be on the house."

  "Wait until I tell you where I want to call, then you can decide."

  I took a piece of paper and a pencil, wrote down the numbers, and handed them to Marge before Carter could see what I'd written. She looked at them and her eyes widened. "I'll get them started."

  A few minutes later, I was back in the second booth and a tired Carter was leaning against the door. Since it was so late, the first call was able to go right through.

  After about ten rings, I heard Marnie's sleepy voice answer. "Hello?"

  "Hello, doll."

  "Nick! Where are you? Are you still in jail? What's going on?"

  "No, I'm not in jail. Didn't Jeffery call you? He was supposed to be back home yesterday."

  "Not a word, Nick. Where are you?"

  "In Ensenada for a few more minutes. Hold on, doll." I put my hand over the mouthpiece and said to Carter. "Can you give Marge money for the calls?" He narrowed his eyes at me then walked back to the reception desk. I watched his long bare legs for a moment, then turned back to the phone.

  "After we leave here, we'll be taking the slow boat back to San Francisco."

  "How slow?"

  "Eight knots, I think. I'm about to buy a ship, sweetheart. Better start shopping for nautical gear."

  "Nick!? Really?"

  "Yeah. I just wanted to let you know we're fine. We'll be on the Jules Verne. We'll check in with customs in San Diego and then move up the coast until we get to San Francisco."

  "How long will that take?"

  "At this point, I don't care. I'm sure we'll be stopping along the way. I'll call you when we get to port. I anything happens, you can always send a radiogram. How are you, doll? And your mother?"

  "Mother's fine. Don't forget we get evicted soon."

  "Right. Why don't you look for something temporary, like the Mark Hopkins or the St. Francis? Until we can get your house settled. Now that Jeffery is back at work, we can start taking care of all that."

  "Do you mean that, Nick?"

  "Sure, doll. You take care of that and let me know what you need the next time we talk."

  "That's swell, Nick. Have a good trip."

  "Thanks sweetheart."

  The line went dead. I looked up at my husband, who was back and yawning. I moved my head around Carter's beautiful legs and nodded at Marge. The phone rang.

  A very sweet voice with a slight accent said, "We have your call for Bourdeaux, France."

  "Thank you, operator."

  There were several clicks. Another voice with a thicker accent said, "'ello France? This is Mexico. Mexico is ready."

  Two more clicks and a sort of hiss started on the line. A different voice with a French accent said, "'allo Mexico. This is France. Please wait for Bourdeaux."

  More clicks and a fainter voice said, "This is Bourdeaux. You may begin your call."

  A thin male voice spoke. "'allo? This is the residence of Pierre Deladier. May I ask who is calling?"

  I spoke loudly. "This is Nicholas Williams. I want to speak to Mr. Deladier about buying the Jules Verne."

  I heard Carter gasp. I looked up at him and mouthed, "Merry Christmas, baby."

  . . .

  Later that morning, we were sitting on the bench on the aft of the ship. The ship moved briskly through the water, about an hour out of San Diego.

  Carter said, "Do you think we'll ever know who killed Taylor?"

  I answered, "Probably not."

  "Who do you think did it?"

  I thought for a moment. "Probably Rhonda."

  "Really? Even after all we found out about Juliet, a.k.a. Phyllis? And what Berto said?"

  "Yeah. I don't think Berto did it. And, that conversation we overhead through their window was just more acting. In fact, I wonder if Juliet should be a little worried."

  "She probably should."

  . . .

>   We pulled into a marina in the San Diego harbor. The morning light highlighted the Hotel del Coronado in its Victorian majesty off in the west. Once we'd been given permission to land, Carter and I took a launch to a store in the marina that had a phone. Mike was still below decks with his crewman buddy. They had come above to be accounted for by the authorities, but then had disappeared again.

  I asked, "Can you pick up whatever papers you can find?" Carter nodded and went into the store. I walked into the phone booth and closed the door.

  My first call was to Jeffery's office. It was about 8:30. I didn't think they would be open. They weren't. I got the service and left a long message about the will, buying the house on Pacific Street for Marnie and her mother, buying the yacht from Deladier, and saying I would call again from the next port. The poor gal on the other end of the line had at least two pages of notes by the time I was done.

  My second call was to my office. I knew Marnie would be in and she was. She told me to look at the paper as soon as I could. I told her to take the day off.

  I met Carter outside. He had an armful of newspapers. I looked up at him. He said, "Wait until we get back to the ship."

  . . .

  Once we were back aboard, the crew brought us breakfast at our table aft. We had the lounge closed off until it was cleaned. Pulling out all the furnishings and having it completely renovated was the only option. I didn't want to see anything that reminded me of Nacho in my arms like that.

  While we were eating, Captain Jennings came by to check in. He told us we would move up the coast to Newport Harbor and drop anchor there for the night.

  After he left, Carter took out the papers.

  "Now we'll never know," he said.

  Rhonda Starling Dead

  In Auto Crash Shocker

  Miss Rhonda Starling, the star of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer's up-coming feature It Was Raining Then, was found in the mangled wreck of a rental car in a rural section of northern San Diego County early this morning by a passing motorist. Traveling with a friend, it appeared that Miss Starling lost control of the car and careened into a utility pole. Both were pronounced dead at the scene.