by Matt Day
“I’ll catch him tomorrow at Mass then. I’ve got some things to do, see ya ‘round.”
“Tomorrow, you mean. Tomorrow’s Sunday, and I did hear you promise Mom that you’d be in attendance.”
“Of course I’ll be here. I’ll even be on time,” Charlie promised with a smile.
Stephen slapped him good-naturedly on the back, “Great. Take care.”
Charlie decided to head on back to the beach, it wouldn’t hurt to take another look around for the missing Jimmy. He stopped by his office and called the Spencer residence, just to make sure the young man hadn’t suddenly gotten an attack of conscience and come home, but they still had heard nothing from him. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was only 11:30 in the morning, and there was still plenty of day left. Still plenty of time to look around for Jimmy.
Since St. Peter’s was centrally located, and there were a number of places a kid Jimmy’s age might hang out, Charlie took himself on a walking tour, meandering down and around several city blocks, but no sign of Jimmy was to found.
The longer he searched for him, the more his gut told him something was terribly wrong with this picture.
Charlie didn’t like the fact that a seemingly nice, quiet young man, had simply run away from home. Nice kids didn’t do things like that. Something had to have spooked him, or enticed him away from everything he knew. His job was to find out what that something was.
*****
Saturday, August 30, 1955, Skyline Hotel…
Eduardo listened as Manny recited the actions of the red-haired kid, whom he had discovered was called Jimmy. It seems that young Jimmy was afraid of something, or someone. Lucky for him, he didn’t appear to be inclined to talk at the moment.
“He’s in room 344, boss.” Manny offered that piece of information, awaiting his next instructions. “I don’t think they knew his name until a few minutes ago.”
“That must mean he’s awake and talking to people.”
“Maybe, but I’ve only seen a few policemen show up today.”
“Good job, Manny. What’s his prognosis?”
“He’s listed as being in critical, but stable condition. I think that means he’s gonna live to fight another day. Do you want me to still keep watch over him?”
“No, you’ve done enough for now. We can check on him again in the morning. He’s not going anywhere, and if he starts talking, there’s no way we can stop him while he’s in the hospital. No, come on back to the hotel.”
Manny sighed in relief after the call ended. He had been following the red-haired kid since Monday night, and frankly, the kid was boring him to death.
He had returned home briefly, but only to grab a few personal items, which he was carrying around in a sack, and to catch a few hours of sleep.
He had awakened early Tuesday morning, before the sun broke the horizon, heading straight for the marina. Unfortunately, Manny had lost him there.
He had been keeping a vigil on the docks, waiting for him to reappear, and the kid had finally given him that opportunity.
Late Friday evening, Jimmy had been seen skulking along the pier, heading towards the parking lot. He had hopped on a bike and taken off. Manny had been quick to follow, and hadn’t been surprised to find the kid looking over the cars parked in the temporary lot overnight.
The kid gravitated towards the stock cars, and Manny had been surprised he waited this long to venture a look see. He located the nearest phone booth, calling Eduardo to give him the update, while keeping Jimmy firmly in his vision. He wasn’t going to lose him now!
Chapter 22
It was still early afternoon when Charlie pulled away from St. Peter’s and headed home. He was sitting at his kitchen table, going over the facts surrounding Captain Maclean’s death, as he knew them, when the phone rang.
Grabbing it on the third ring, he answered, “Hello?”
“Charlie, good, you’re home.”
“Morgan? It’s Saturday. What are you doing calling me on the weekend?” Charlie quickly ran through a variety of scenarios, none of them pleasant.
“I just got some new information I thought you might like to have. Remember when we were talking about that group of men you thought might be connected to the Cuban mafia?”
“Sure, they seem to be showing up everywhere.”
“How so?” Morgan asked, wondering what else Charlie might have found out.
“I saw them hanging out at the races yesterday. And again today, they were sitting in the back of the cathedral during the funeral for Pat Maclean.”
“Well that just happens to fit with the scenario my boys have come up with. We got a report this morning that during the storm last weekend, a small fishing boat, on its way from Havana to New York, sank. The feds were around here asking about anything strange that might be going on.”
“What did you tell them?” Charlie asked, placing this new information into the mix and not liking what he came up with.
“Not much. I of course had to tell them about the three dead bodies. They asked where the boat was found, and curiously enough, the coordinates the Coast Guard identified aren’t all that far off from the path the boat would have been taking.”
“You think those men are in Daytona looking for proof the boat sank?”
“No, we’re positive the boat sank. There were several mayday calls placed from the boat during the height of the storm, but no wreckage has been found yet. Of course, they’ve been looking farther out to sea, about twenty miles further out.”
“That’s nothing. That storm bordered on hurricane force winds. It could have easily blown a small boat that far off course.”
“That’s what I think as well. I have a theory, and you’re probably not going to like it.”
“Run it by me anyway. I’ve got my own theories swirling around in my head and I don’t like them none either.”
“Well, the feds seem to think the boat was carrying drugs, along with some other contraband substances.”
“Why do they think that? Do they have any proof? A manifest perhaps?”
“They didn’t say, but these guys were from the New York area, so my guess is they have some sort of intel they don’t want to give up just yet. Anyway, if a boat full of drugs sank, that amounts to a lot of money someone’s out. If the Batistos and the mafia were working together on things, they’d both be looking for a way to recoup their losses.”
“Or, they could have been looking for the boat?”
“I thought about that, but if the boat sank in the spot where Pat’s boat was found, I don’t see how they would have discovered it. I checked with the Coast Guard and the water in that area is deep. As in over two hundred feet deep in that location.”
“You can’t see anything at those depths.” Suddenly, Charlie remembered the strange incident with the group of sharks out near Pat’s boat. What had the officer said was floating on the water? Weeds? Grass? Yeah, some type of plant material, and the sharks had been going crazy for it. Could sharks get high off marijuana if they ingested it? Would a shark eat marijuana? Weren’t they carnivores, eating only meat?
Charlie shook his head to dispel the crazy thoughts. Sharks did not eat marijuana! But what if they did? What if that boat from Havana had gone down right there, and some of the cargo had floated to the surface? And what if Pat and his crew had discovered it, just as the mafia group found it as well. Would they not have wanted to eliminate any witnesses to their recovery efforts? Of course they would have.
Hearing Morgan’s voice pulled Charlie from his ruminations, bringing him back to the current discussion.
“That’s what they said as well.”
“What who said?” Charlie asked, totally lost as to what they had been discussing.
“The visibility. The Coast Guard said the visibility to two hundred feet doesn’t exist. I sent my men back out to the “Big Mama” to look around once more, but I don’t anticipate they’ll find anything useful.”
Charlie rolled h
is eyes, thankfully they were speaking on the phone, or he wouldn’t have been able to do so. Morgan was always looking for the easy way out. “So, are we to assume these men are here to find another source of revenue?” Charlie was going to hold his suspicions close to his chest until he had further proof.
“Possibly. If last night was anything to go by, I’d say they’re looking for trouble.”
“Why? What happened last night?” Charlie asked.
“There was a big scuffle down at the beach after the race ended. Apparently, those same Cuban guys started roughing up a group of young men, mostly in their early twenties. A couple of bystanders didn’t like what was happening and called the cops in.
“Things got violent real fast. By the time my guys got there, the Batistos were gone, but they left two of the young men seriously wounded. One of them was treated at the hospital and sent home. The young man that was stabbed underwent surgery, and is still in the hospital and likely to remain there for a few more days.”
There was a pause for effect, and then Morgan continued, “You might be interested in the identity of the young man who got stabbed.”
“I would?”
“Yeah, you’ve spent the last two days looking for him.”
“Jimmy Spencer is the boy who was stabbed? By the Batistos?” Charlie scratched his head. Was there a connection between Jimmy and the Batista boys, or was it just an uncanny coincidence?
“The one and only. He woke up about an hour ago and was able to tell us his name.”
“Have you been able to question him?”
Morgan sighed through the phone, “No. He’s awake, but he’s not talking. At least - not to us. I was hoping he might talk to you.”
Charlie was thinking the same thing. “I’ll take a run up there and let you know if I find out anything.”
“Thanks. I don’t have to tell you, I want these men out of my backyard. I don’t like the things that are happening around here, and most of them seemed to start with their arrival in town.”
“I’ll go talk to Jimmy. Oh, do his parents know?” Charlie had spoken to them several hours earlier, and they hadn’t heard anything at that time.
“They were keeping vigil over his bedside when I left there a few minutes ago.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you later. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Charlie hung up the phone and started making notes. Things were starting to fall into place. The starting point seems to have been the tropical storm. The boat from Havana had sunk, most likely loaded with drugs and contraband. A day later, four men show up, seemingly from Miami or Havana, and hang around for several days.
The day after they arrive, Captain Maclean and his crew are brutally murdered and the boat cast adrift. The men show up at his funeral, but don’t appear to be in mourning.
They are seen at the races, and later get into a fight with others, sending a young man who has been missing since Monday night to the hospital. Coincidence? Not likely. The only question that needed to be answered now was, how was Jimmy connected to the Batista group? Had he been selling drugs for them? Or, had he given them information on the “Big Mama” and they had commandeered the boat to search for the missing ship? Had they been trying to eliminate the last witness to their corrupt dealings?
Maybe Jimmy himself would have some answers to those questions.
Chapter 23
Saturday, August 30, 1955, Our Lady of Mercy Hospital…
Charlie pulled up to the hospital, feeling slightly under the weather, but passing it off as a combination of the humidity and the excessive heat wave for this time of year. He was sweating profusely, but didn’t let it slow him down.
He took the elevator to the third floor, having ascertained the room number from the cute candy striper manning the information booth in the foyer. The kid couldn’t have been more than eighteen, yet she had smiled, batted her eyelashes, and flirted shamelessly with him while he stood there waiting for her to find the correct room number. He was old enough to be her father, for crying out loud!
When the elevator stopped at the third floor, Charlie exited the elevator and headed for the end of the hall. He knew he had the correct room when Mr. Spencer came out of the room, shaking his head in frustration.
Next came Mrs. Spencer, her eyes puffy and swollen from crying. “Why won’t he tell us anything?” she said before she collapsed against Mr. Spencer’s chest in tears.
“Excuse me?” Charlie said, needing to let them know he was standing right there.
“Oh, Mr. Flanigan, did you hear the good news. Jimmy’s been found. We’ve been thanking God all morning.”
“I did, that’s why I came over here. I was hoping I could speak with him for a few minutes.”
Mr. Spencer stepped away from the door and gestured for him to go on in, “Be my guest. Maybe he’ll talk to you.”
Charlie nodded, “I’ll give it a shot.” He pushed open the door, noticing the shades had been drawn mostly shut. Walking over to the blinds, he saw a red-haired, freckle-faced young man lying in the hospital bed, watching him through half-masted eyes.
“You must be Jimmy. I’ve been waiting to meet you.”
The sullen young man licked his dry lips and tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse and a pained look crossed his face as he swallowed. Probably from the breathing tube they would have stuck down his throat while he was in surgery.
Charlie picked up the cup of water and held it to his lips, “Try to talk now.”
Jimmy swallowed carefully, thankful the water seemed to help his dry throat. It felt swollen, his chest hurt like someone had stuck a red-hot poker through it, and the sight of his mother’s tears had been more than he could handle. “Who are you?” he asked hoarsely.
Charlie pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. “My name’s Charlie Flanigan, and among other things, I’m a private investigator.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened before he asked, “You have a gun?”
“Yes, but not on me right now. Do I need a gun right now?”
Jimmy’s eyes shuttered and his pulse kicked up. Charlie could tell his question had caused some sort of reaction, but wasn’t entirely sure what from. “Jimmy, your parents have been worried about you. Can you tell me where you’ve been all week?”
“Hiding,” came the quick reply.
“Hiding. From whom?”
Jimmy didn’t answer, he just stared at the him, his face devoid of expression.
“Jimmy, if you’re hiding from someone who wants to hurt you, I can protect you. The police can protect you as well, but you have to tell us what’s going on.”
He shook his head slightly, “No.”
Charlie sighed, “Can you at least tell me where you’ve been hanging out the last few days? It would make your parents feel better to know.”
“Here and there. Nowhere.”
Charlie looked at the young man lying in the hospital bed, starting to wonder if his injuries had been coincidental, or calculated. “Jimmy, do you know the men who attacked you and your friends?”
“Not my friends. Just some guys I met on the beach.”
“Really? Well, some of those guys deserve some thanks. The only reason you’re still alive to talk to me is because one of them had enough common sense to call the cops when things first started going south.”
Jimmy nodded his head, but didn’t offer any other verbal communication.
“What are you scared of? Your parents mentioned you were working on a fishing boat. Did you see something happen down at the docks that scared you?”
“I don’t want to talk anymore.” Jimmy turned his head away from Charlie, effectively ending the conversation.
“Okay, son. I’ll let you be. Just answer one more question for me.” When Jimmy slowly nodded his head, Charlie asked, “Were you at the marina the last day Pat Maclean took his boat out? The day Pat Maclean and the others were murdered?”
Jimmy’s head whipped around, his eyes wide
ned and he gasped, “What? Captain Maclean’s dead?”
Charlie felt bad for having alarmed the kid and tried to calm him back down, “Sorry, I thought maybe someone had told you what’s been going on around here. I was just wondering if maybe when you were headed out of the marina on Tuesday, you saw something happen on the “Big Mama” that frightened you.”
“I wasn’t at the marina on Tuesday.” Jimmy closed his eyes, afraid this man staring at him would see what he didn’t want to say. Captain was dead! God, what was going on around here? He wished he could speak to Tommy. Wait! Had Tommy been killed too?
“You said there were other’s killed besides Captain Maclean. Who were they?”
“Did you know Captain Maclean?” Charlie asked.
“Everyone knew Captain Maclean. Who else died?”
Charlie nodded, the kid was right. Everyone did know Captain Maclean. “Jacob Parker and his brother, Joseph.”
Charlie watched as tears formed in the kid’s eyes before he could close them and hide his feelings. “Did you know them?”
Jimmy shook his head, deciding it was better to say nothing at this point in time. The man hadn’t mentioned Tommy, so maybe he was still alive. As soon as he could, he’d try and find him. The world was going to hell in a hand basket, and just like one of the new amusement park rides he’d seen pictures of, he wanted off!
Chapter 24
Jimmy kept his eyes closed, slowing down his breathing, secretly smiling when the man finally gave up and left the room quietly. Opening his eyes, he gave way to the tears he hadn’t shed before. To anyone who would walk in, it would look like he was in serious pain from his injuries, but inside his heart was hurting. Captain Maclean had been a good man and Jimmy would miss working alongside him, as well as the Parker brothers.
He was still crying when his parents walked back in, and his mother hurried back out of the room to retrieve the nurse and more painkillers. That was fine with Jimmy. The drugs they were giving him caused him to sleep and right now, that sounded really good to him.
