by Moulton, CD
That night Nikolo took them and Ben and Earl, the gay couple in a nearby house, to dinner at the Nine Degrees. Nikolo was staying at the Tropical Suites where Clint told the employees that King Fatuous was going to do twenty years.
Nikolo went back to Costa Rica the next day. Clint went back home to lay around a bit.
What now? Fishing? Maybe visit his friends on the comarca?
He’d think of something.
Clint Faraday Mysteries #14
Dead End
(c)2011 by C. D. Moulton
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental unless otherwise stated.
Obnoxious people are building a marina on Isla Popa in a part that such a venture can’t but fail. The Indigenos are trying to tell them it won’t work and they take it as the Indigenos trying to run them off their property.
Then there is a murder attempt.
Contents
Poor Attitude
Wrong Place
Murder Attempt
Greedbags
He Finally Saw the Light
Find the Hit Man
Closer
Hit Man Found
Find Grossman
(Un)poetic Justice
Clint Faraday Mysteries #14
Dead End
Poor Attitude
Clint Faraday, retired PI from Florida, was lounging in the hammock on his deck at his new permanent home on Saigon Bay, Isla Colón, Bocas del Toro, Panamá. He wasn’t thinking of much, just allowing his mind to wander at will. Silvio Flores and family went by in their large cayuca (dugout boat) and greeted him with the common Indio greeting, “Coin dere!” (Good afternoon!). He waved and called the greeting back.
Judi Lum, his very attractive nextdoor neighbor from Taiwan, came onto her deck with Dave, their nutty musician/ botanist/author friend. They greeted everyone. Judi called the Flores family over to her dock to give them pineapple upside-down cake she made for the kids, though everyone got a big piece.
Dave held up a plant to Clint. An orchid he’d brought back from the comarca. It was finally in bloom again and Dave called that it probably was a new species. It definitely wasn’t listed as being found in Panamá.
Clint went to his piece of the plant (Dave had finally gotten him interested in the things and had his deck and yard covered with hundreds of species). It was a few days from blooming. An Oncidium alliance thing that Dave said was either a natural hybrid with a local Oncidium and Psychopsis papilio or a new species. Clint was even learning a few of the scientific names, though the Indios had local names for most of them. This one the natives in the comarca where it was found called it the Grande Mariposa Amarillo, or great big yellow butterfly.
He saw another one, a large spidery green and brown flower called Brassia verucosa, was blooming. He called to Dave that it was open. Dave said he’d come right over. It was out of season, but that may be because he’d moved it. Maybe he’d cross it on his new species.
There was a loud call from Clint’s front door, “Buenos!” that was the popular way to “knock” on a door here. He went out to find Ernesto and Pancho Smith standing there. He said, “Passe! Yantoro!” (all around greeting. It meant “good” – as did “Coin”) and waved them in. Smith was a semi-common Indio name. Somebody’s father or great grandfather was a gringo. They came in for Clint to offer them coffee or soda or whatever they liked. They accepted Cokes.
Dave came in with a plate of upside-down cake for everyone. Judi was with him so they sat around the table on the deck to talk. Nesto and Pancho were beating around the bush so Clint knew they needed a favor, but were uncertain about how to ask.
“What?” he asked. “You’re friends. What’s the problem and how can I help?”
“We are not certain,” Nesto replied. “There is something very wrong on Isla Popa. We are not ... we cannot find what is happening. People are afraid, I think because those people want to buy the back end where there is deep water to build a marina and they think we don’t want a marina there. We are only trying to say it would not be a good place for a marina because no one would come. There is no connection to anywhere else and there is no tourism on Popa because of that. It would mean jobs for us, but that is no good if it will fail.”
“Why are you afraid? Of what or whom?”
“We are not afraid. Some others are, those who live very close to where they want to construct the marina,” Pancho answered. “Their cows have died for no reason and the chickens are not laying and are very nervous, even for birds. The parrots don’t come there and they used to come, many hundreds of them, to roost in the big trees.
“We do not say those people are doing it. It is that there was no such thing before they came here. There was no problem until they started making the stupid marina, now there are many problems. We do not have much money. We wanted to ask that you find what is wrong and who is doing things as a friend. We have waited too long already.”
“Violeta’s from there. She told me they had two cows that died and a pig and they didn’t know why,” Judi said. “They live on the northwest end of the island. Is that where they want to build the marina?”
“Yes. Violeta is the daughter of Samos and Irena. They are close to the place,” Nesto replied.
“You should have come to Clint before. She told me that a month or more ago.”
“I’ll see what’s happening out there. If there’s some bunch of crummy greedbags doing anything to your stock I’ll put a fast end to it,” Clint promised. “Those tactics are from the past. Try them now and we’ll teach them a lesson in respect!” Clint always got furious when asshole gringos – or anyone else, for that matter – tried to intimidate the Panamanians, particularly the Indios. He was such a close friend to them that Obilio, a chief on the comarca, had declared he was Ngobe (the Indigenos in Bocas del Toro Province). He was, therefore, by law, an Indio. Ngobe. (NhOBEh. The language is Ngoberé (knob-ur-AY).
Clint got all the information he could from them and promised to go down to Popa the following morning to talk with other natives, then he’d go calling on the gringos.
Wrong Place
Clint pulled up to the dock near the Smith’s cluster of houses and six small kids ran down to hug him and call him Tio Clint. He went toward the houses and four more from the neighboring houses came running to hug him. They were the Taylor family, also a common Indio name.
Pancho came out to greet him with his wife, Marta. They talked a bit over fresh ground coffee from the finca. Clint was filled in as much as they knew, but he would walk across to the Serrano place to talk with the people who were actually involved, then he’d go to where he could see a dock being built. That would be the marina. He knew a thing or two about the area that whoever was building that place didn’t, apparently. It was no place for a marina even if there were access to the mainland or major islands.
“They don’t speak much Spanish and don’t care to learn. That kind,” Samuel said a little later when Clint strolled over to his little finca with a gaggle of kids skipping along with him. “We try to tell them they can’t build a successful marina there because it is the wrong place. They are very nasty and bravo and say we can’t tell them where to build or not build anything because they have a permit.
“What good is a permit if the place is wrong?
“They are not very nice people. The son is maybe worse than them. He doesn’t want to be here. He wants to go back to Oklahoma where he was raised.. The boys here tried to be his friend, but he is not interested. He doesn’t want friends, then I have heard him saying to his parents that there is nothing to do here and no one will even talk to him. I think the woman also does not want to be in Panamá. She says no one will be her friend. She is not a friend to us, so why would we be a friend to her? How can we? They won’t talk to us!”
“I know the type,” Clint said. “All us gringos have to live with what they make people think all gringos are.”
“We don’t think of people in that kind of way. Some gringos are too like them and some are not – the same as there are Indio thieves, but most are not. Besides which, you are no longer a gringo. You are now declared Ngobe!”
“And proud to be!” Clint returned. “I’ll see what I can do about it. Maybe I can make them realize you aren’t telling them they can’t build there because of what you want, but because the natural conditions make it stupid to try.”
They chatted a bit more, then Clint and the kids went back to his boat. He hugged them all goodbye and motored around to the large dock under construction. It had signs that said it was a private dock. Keep out. Clint ignored the signs and tied his boat next to a large material hauler barge. He went onto the dock and up to the house where a man, woman and teenage boy were standing, watching him. He greeted them and introduced himself.
“Hello. I’m Robert, this is Sarah and my son is William. Morris. From Oklahoma in the states. I’ve heard of you. You’re Clint Faraday, the bigshot retired detective.”
“I’m a retired detective. I’m no bigshot. I just keep my hand in the business because the police here asked me to.
“You’re building a marina, I understand. I think there are some things you don’t know about the area you’ve chosen.”
“Here we go! More threats about what will happen if we try to open anything here among the Panamanian tree apes!” William said sourly. “Go fuck yourself!”
“You’re a real wise-ass little shithead bastard, aren’t you?” Clint said pleasantly. “I get so damned tired of your type of punk. You think you know everything and that the world revolves around your amazingly stupid ass. You’ll learn.
“I think you totally misunderstand what the Indios are trying to tell you, but that’s mostly because you don’t have the simple self-respect to understand them. You react to them the way you react to anyone you don’t understand.”
“But you do understand them!” William spat. “You’re no Indian!”
“Actually I am. I’m a Ngobe. I understand a lot more than you might think.
“Why do you people stand there and allow this spoiled little punk to talk to your guests like this? Is it the way you were raised so you don’t know that discipline has a lot to do with how your life turns out?”
“He’s just going through that stage,” Sarah answered. “It doesn’t do any good to talk to him. He’s just rebellious and doesn’t like it here. He’ll outgrow it.”
“If he survives. Are you willing to listen to a few facts or do you prefer to act like the victim of something undefined you don’t want defined? It’s you who stand to lose your asses here. The Indios have been here since before the Americas were discovered and will be here when we finally are able to destroy what we call civilization with our greed.”
“You know, I don’t like your attitude at all!” Robert said haughtily. “You aren’t going to scare us off this place! Don’t bother trying!”
“Okay. I’ll go away and let the natural facts of this area break you. I don’t much care for your attitude, either, in case you’re stupid enough to think I’m impressed with it. If you’ll stop to think for ten seconds you’ll see that I have nothing to gain or lose by coming here. I’m impressed by your actions and words, but not the way you probably intended. It tells me a lot about you.
“‘Bye!
“Oh! One other thing. If anymore animals are poisoned or such, you’ll find that I’m a police officer when called. I’ll have the two of you locked up for ninety days or so. You can refuse to allow a minor like this little halfassed punk to be prosecuted. He can see how he likes living for ninety days in a place he’s alienated everyone without you to pamper him.”
“We haven’t poisoned any animals! What are you talking about?!” Sarah cried.
“So. You have a run-in with the locals because you don’t understand what they’re trying to tell you and their animals start dying off by mere coincidence. Get real!”
“I assure you, we wouldn’t do anything like that! Why would we poison animals because we can’t get along with people?”
William was looking at his feet and shifting back and forth.
“No. Your little punk would and did, though. You’re held responsible if you won’t allow his prosecution.”
Robert turned on William. “Did you poison anyone’s animals? – And don’t lie to me! I’ll teach you a lesson that you’ll never forget!”
“They hate me! They made me do it!” William screeched. Robert slapped him hard enough that he went down.
“Okay, Faraday. I swear before god we didn’t know anything about that! Why would you do something like that, William? We are not that kind of trash!”
“I wanted to make them make us leave! I hate it here! I don’t have any friends and there’s nothing to do!”
“You can’t have friends if you refuse to be a friend,” Clint said. “You don’t have any idea of what harm your stupid selfish acts have done. The Indios won’t make you leave, you’ll put your parents in a position where they have to leave because they’ve lost their asses in a stupid venture that wasn’t researched nearly enough,” Clint lectured.
“Listen, Faraday. I swear to you we didn’t know anything about this! No wonder they want us out! I would, too!
“Okay. Maybe we’ve been stupid not to listen, but I swear we thought they were threatening us!
“What do you mean about doing the research? We bought this place because there was already a permit for a marina here. Collins, from the company in Panamá City said it was all researched and that there’s plenty of business for two or three more marinas here! The water’s deep enough around here for some large draft boats and it’s level enough for two hundred feet to build a good dry dock. The marinas at Almirante and on Bocas are full all the time to where they anchor all around the bay close.
“Besides the fact that we’re resented by the natives, what’s wrong with building a marina here?
“I know what the Indios say about not having entrance to the mainland or Bocas, but they use their dingies to come and go now! What are we missing? Exactly? What makes it a bad idea?”
“The large draft bit.”
“There’s plenty of water in here!”
“And there’s plenty out there. It’s in between that doesn’t have a channel. There’s plenty here and there, it’s just not connected. There’s nowhere close where you can come in here drawing more than three or four feet of water. The Indios weren’t saying they would keep boats from coming here, they were saying the boats couldn’t come because of the natural features of the place.”
“But the man from Panamá City assured us that there was plenty of water and that boats come and go here all the time!”
“Fishing boats. Tour boats less than twenty feet. Catamarans and tri-hulls that don’t draw more than two or three feet of draft. Those aren’t live-ons, except the catamarans. No one keeps fishing boats in a marina that they can’t get to without a boat the size they have. The catamarans anchor among the islands and move a little every day to get by the anchorage laws.”
“Oh, dear God almighty!” Sarah whined. “We thought we’d covered everything! This is terrible! Our investors will be livid!”
“Get off the attitude and learn to listen to the people living in the area. They’re the ones who know the conditions, not some schnook who’s trying to sell you something so he gets a big commission.”
“Well, I think I’ve learned something, but it’s not about the Indians, it’s about land sales here in Panamá,” Robert said dejectedly. “He’s the one who said the Indians will try to get us out. They hate gringos.”
“No, they don’t. They would even like to see a successful operation of some type here. It would mean jobs.”
Sarah looked shocked. “But ... but ... My God! That’s true! They don’t have any jobs on these islands and we’d bring them some! My God!”
“They have plenty of jobs here. They’re mostly working for
themselves growing coffee and cacao or cows and pigs this little snit poisoned. They’re not for money, they’re for living the lifestyle the people are used to and like.”
“They aren’t interested in money? Get real! They gouge us every chance they get! We even got taken for six bucks by the taxi when we first came here and nothing’s changed! Every time we go to Bocas we get screwed!”
“Two little things to consider here. That’s not the Indios here, it’s Panamanians, mostly the blacks, because they feel the gringos owe them something vague. Number two, your attitude will make anyone, anywhere, want to stick it to you as much as they can.
“I’ll go. Just remember that the people here were trying to warn you that it wouldn’t be smart to sink a lot of money into a project that was doomed before it got started.”
“I’ve learned my lesson,” Robert said. “I’m through listening to ... even some of my own little family. I wasn’t an only child and didn’t get the coddling this, as you would say, little spoiled brat’s used to.
“You’d better get used to things going a lot harder on you now, sonny boy. Poisoning these people’s animals crossed the line a long way. You’re going to pay these people for every cow and pig you did that to.”
“I can’t pay them! I don’t have anything to pay them with! Besides, they all asked for it!” he snarled.
This time he ducked just fast enough to miss another hard slap.
“Your allowance is twenty bucks a week. I figure no allowance for two years will handle it!” Robert snarled.
“Ma!” William squealed.
“Now, Robert. He was just rebelling. Don’t be too hard on him,” Sarah wheedled.
“I’m not being hard enough and you won’t get me to let him get away with this shit anymore! My God! We’re about to lose everything we have and you want to protect the one who caused most of it! If we’d listened from the first we wouldn’t have borrowed – how will we ever pay that back if we can’t...?”
