Clint Faraday Collection C: Murder in Motion Collector's Edition

by Moulton, CD

  “We’ll just have to sell this place and move back to Oklahoma,” Sarah said, almost happily. William smirked.

  “So. I see,” Clint said. Robert looked a little shocked and stared hard at Sarah. Clint wouldn’t be at all surprised if he slapped her as hard as he’d slapped William.

  “There’s a little problem with that,” Clint said to ameliorate the tension. “This place was for sale for ten years or so when it was finally unloaded on you. There were other buyers, but they researched it among the people here, not a bunch of sleazy crooks in Panamá City. They decided to run, not walk, away from the deal. I doubt you’ll find anyone to buy it for another ten years.”

  That got rid of the smirks!

  “Oh, fucking shit!” Robert exclaimed.

  Clint got in his boat, waved and headed back to Bocas Town.

  Murder Attempt

  “Buenos!” Pancho called from Clint’s front door three mornings later. Clint called, “Yantoro! Passe!” and Pancho came in.

  “What’s cooking?” Clint asked.

  “Cooking? I am not cooking anything. This is your house ... oh! An expression!

  “I think there is going to be big trouble on Popa. Those people again. Someone tried to kill the husband and the wife and that unspeakable son are blaming the Serranos.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, the husband was working by the dock, trying to take out some kind of winch he was returning to the place where he bought it. His back was turned and someone hit him with a piece of steel rod like they use in concrete. He was hit more than one time, but it wasn’t hard enough to kill him. Anton heard the noise when he yelled and went over, but whoever did it was gone when they heard him coming. He called Enrique and me and we went to help. We tried to make the husband come to the hospital because he acts like he doesn’t hear or even know what’s happening at times and is dizzy.

  “Clint, we get along with him very well now. He has paid for the dead animals and says he was a fool to believe when they told him we would try to make them leave. We are better to him than his own family is. It is not he who accuses, it is the wife and son.

  “I think if any of my sons are like that one I will kill him myself!”

  “Who did it? Do you know?”

  “No. No one was there. Just him and his wife and son.”

  “I’ll go get him and make him go for X-rays. He’s acting like he has a serious concussion or a fracture. Would you like to come along?”

  He nodded. Clint locked the front and went through to his boat. He and Pancho headed for Popa.

  “You! What are you doing here? Get out! You are not welcome on my property!” Sarah yelled.

  “It’s not your property. It’s registered under a corporate name. You’re merely listed as the recording secretary in the corporation,” Clint replied. “Where is Robert?”

  “He’s sleeping! One of these Indians tried to kill him!” William said. “No Indian is to come on this property. I’ll have them arrested! Get out!”

  “Go fuck yourself, punk!” Clint snapped back. “You’re a minor and can’t give any orders about anything here. I’m a cop who’s come because there’s a report of a serious injury as the result of a murder attempt. It’s the Indios who’re trying to help him, not his family. That will bear some investigation.

  “Where is he? Now! I’ll run your ass in for obstruction in a heartbeat, punk!”

  “Ma!”

  “Her, too,” Pancho said. “She’s responsible for the way you act here.”

  “Maybe that would be best,” Clint said, but it wouldn’t do a bit of good. Neither of those two spoke Spanish, though they both seemed to know what he’d said. Clint pushed past the two and went to the house to call, “Robert? Clint Faraday here! Can I come in?”

  “Yes, please,” came back. “I think I’m worse than I think I’m worse than I ... I can’t think.”

  “I’m taking you to the hospital in Bocas for X-rays,” Clint said. “Do you need help walking?”

  “I can’t ... I’ll trust you. I have a little trouble walking.”

  Pancho helped him stand, then had him put an arm over his shoulder to help him get to the boat. He was extremely shaky and pale. Clint started the boat with Sarah and William screeching at him that he had no right!

  Clint got his cellular and called to Sergio, the police captain. He said to get the ambulance to the ferry dock and to alert Doc that there was a case of a probable skull fracture and as probable poisoning. He pushed the boat as fast as he could and got to the dock in about fifteen minutes. Doc was there and took a quick look before they put him in the ambulance. He said it was a depressed skull fracture and there might be other things. Part of this wasn’t at all symptomatic of a skull fracture.

  After Robert was hauled away Clint went back to his place and tied to the dock. Judi came over and asked what was going on. Pancho said he thought the wife or son or both tried to kill the husband. Clint filled in the spaces for her.

  “Judi, have you heard anything about those people? Anything since I went out there four days ago?”

  “Well, Violeta was at the community action meeting and we talked about it. There are people from all the islands where there’s any kind of community and even from Isla Pastore and Renacimento. They all said they thought those people were fools and that there was going to be more trouble because of what someone else had said or something.

  “I think that Grossman character who came in yesterday afternoon is somehow involved. He booked rooms for two other couples in Swan’s Cay. They’re supposed to be here today. He was asking Lucy and Angela about the Morris people and the marina.”

  “Judi, you can get so much more information so much faster than the cops or myself I can’t believe it! Thanks!”

  They chatted and visited for another hour, then Clint said he was going to the hospital to talk with Doc. Pancho had to get back home and Judi had the garden club meeting.

  “What’s the projection, Doc?” Clint asked when he was in the office at the hospital.

  “Depressed skull fracture that could have gotten worse to the point of fatality,” he answered. “I think there’s some kind of poisoning, maybe ethylene glycol. It’s badly dehydrating him. I can counter it. He’ll live, but there may be brain damage from the fracture. I can hope not, but ... we’ll see. I’ve relieved the pressure and he’s in very good physical condition. He keeps saying ‘It can’t be. I don’t believe it. It can’t be,’ over and over at times. He also says, ‘Fatty? That was Fatty. When did he come?’ and things like that. He’s confused about what happened and sometimes can’t remember where he is or why.”

  Clint took out his cellular and called Judi, who was at the meeting. “Is Grossman fat?” he demanded.

  “Grossman? Who ... oh. Yes, but not extreme. You tend to think he’s fatter than he is when you hear the name. Grossman. He’s a little fat. Maybe thirty pounds overweight at five eight or so, so it shows around the gut.

  “Just a sec.” She talked with someone for a minute, then, “Yveth says Grossman went out with Maxie yesterday afternoon late and they didn’t get back until after dark. You know how Maxie is about being on the water after dark with so many boats that don’t have running lights.

  “Help any?”

  “As usual, a lot,” Clint replied. “Thanks, Jude. You’re amazing!”

  “Yeah, I know. By accident.”

  They said their goodbyes and Clint told Doc he wanted to talk with Maxie about something. “Put Morris somewhere he can be protected. I won’t be surprised if there’s another attempt on him here.”

  Doc nodded and said he’d be put where no one could get to him even if they knew where it was.

  “Make careful note of anyone who asks about him. Anyone at all.”

  “Doesn’t need saying. Complete with pictures from the new videocams in the halls and such.”

  Clint went down to the docks, then back to the trail the natives used next to the Barco Hundido. Ma
xie was loading some staples for Bastimentos. Grossman had gone to Pastore, then Popa. He got off the boat on Popa and was gone for about half an hour. That was why it was dark when they got back.

  Crap! Now there’s another suspect! Clint would have been much happier to only have Sarah and William.

  He went to the police station to discuss matters with Sergio awhile, then back to the hospital where everything was quiet. Then he went home to handle his e-mail and start a Google Search for Sarah and William Morris from Middletown, Oklahoma.

  He then did a fast search on Grossman, but didn’t have enough information to get a start. He then repeated on Yahoo! and other search engines.

  How damned stupid! He called the Swan’s Cay desk to ask about Grossman. Solomon Samuel Grossman. He then got the names of the two expected couples. Ellen and Francis Greenwood and Fanny and Edward Auermond.

  He did the searches on all of them. They were normal enough types, it seemed. Sarah had been in trouble as a teen when she tried to run another girl over with her father’s car. The girl had taken her boyfriend. It went to PTI and was silenced. William had been in some trouble three times for petty theft and underage drinking plus a minor pot possession thing that didn’t go anywhere after Sarah intervened and assured the court that it wouldn’t happen again because it was the fault of his peers and he wasn’t going to be around that bunch anymore. It seemed Mama was always stepping in to keep junior out of trouble. She wasn’t going to be of any real help to him here. She could stop prosecution of a minor, but that would mean she accepts all the financial and legal responsibility. That was no joke in Panamá with these kinds of cases.

  Clint sat back and wondered how he was going to find who was the action figure and who was the schemer. This was one sick sordid bunch of people.

  Milton Goldstein came over for a beer or two and said Clint might be in for some headaches. There were a bunch of people coming. People who as much as worshiped money. They were Jewish and the kind of people the decent Jews despised for what they made everyone in the world think of Jews.

  “I know the type,” Clint said. “I’m stuck in dealing with some of them now.”

  “Robert’s not so bad. It’s that damned scheming bitch and that whiny halfassed spoiled brat of theirs. Robert, you can get through to, but not when he’s around those two. I think he’s finally opening his eyes about them. He was telling me night before last that he thinks they’re the cause of all his troubles with the natives. He’s finally listening to them and sees they weren’t putting him down or threatening him, they were trying to stop him from making a huge mistake.

  “He knows the mistake’s already made and that it’s his own fault for listening to family and socalled friends. He’s actually getting along with two or three of the Indios out there.”

  That was much the same as Clint was beginning to believe.

  Greedbags

  “Quiet night. No one came to do anything except someone named Grossman. All he wanted to know was if Morris was alright. I told him it was too soon to tell. He’ll wait to do anything that way if he’s any part of this,” Doc explained. Clint nodded.

  “He’s part of it, but I have no idea what part. Yet.

  “Is he anymore coherent this morning?”

  “A bit. He’s still very confused and weak. It was ethylene glycol. Antifreeze. Tastes like sugar so they were able to put a little in his coffee or something. It would have eventually killed him if they kept it up. Somebody knows how to use it to make it look like something else if you’re not looking for a specific.”

  “I think they wanted to make him have to go back to the states where he’d die so they can collect insurance or something. I believe there was a term policy in the corporation papers. I’ll look that up.

  “Grossman and four people who are coming today are officers in the corporation.”

  They chatted a few minutes longer, then Clint went home and to his computer to trace insurance policies. All of them had policies where the major players’ debts would be paid off and the corporation would collect two million if they died of natural causes.

  So. That was probably why the injuries weren’t immediately fatal. What they apparently didn’t know was that he would have certainly died of those injuries if they’d continued the poison. No insurance company would pay if it was directly connected to a murder attempt. It would be too easy to show that was the immediate cause, the sickness and debilitation would be considered part of the attempt. They would very definitely look for poison if there had been an attempt on the subjects life!

  Clint heard the flight from Panamá City coming in so got on his motorcycle and raced to be there when the passengers deplaned. He considered the man waiting by the door was probably Grossman, there to meet them.

  Two more people got off near the first and waved at Grossman. Two more got off a few people later and did the same. He went to the baggage checkout and stood talking animatedly with the four, then got a taxi to take the bunch to the Swan’s Cay. They checked in and went to the restaurant to ask the waiter something, then took a table to the side.

  Clint wasn’t dressed to be inconspicuous in that restaurant so waited near the door. He could see them at an angle through a window so moved to the side and waited about twenty minutes until Sarah came in. She went directly to them and said something. They got up and headed for the door.

  Clint would be recognized by her, definitely, so stayed back and out of sight. They got two taxis and headed toward Saigon Bay, so Clint followed at a distance on the bike. They stopped at the hospital.

  Clint took out his cellular and called Doc, who was at the morgue on one end of the hospital grounds. He said he’d be over there in less than two minutes. He’d call the receptionist and tell her to stall them by saying she had to check with his doctor before she could allow visitors.

  Clint saw Doc go from the morgue to the side door of the hospital and in. He waited two minutes and went in himself. Trina pointed to the door to Doc’s office and raised an eyebrow. Clint rolled his eyes and barged into the office.

  “You don’t knock when ... oh, hello, Faraday, What can I do for you? How’re things going?”

  “I wanted to say something to Mrs. Morris. Bob saw her come in here and called me. I was just down the street, so here I am.”

  “No! I don’t have anything to say to you! You kidnapped my husband from my house and I want charges to be filed against you for that! So there!”

  “Mr. Faraday and Mr. Smith brought Mr. Morris here yesterday in a condition requiring immediate action or it would have proven fatal,” Doc declared sternly. “He explained fully what had transpired. He was acting as agent for the Policia Nacionál and, with what I have learned through treatment of Mr. Morris, can arrest you here and now for criminal neglect – at best! (Clint shook his head the least bit.) I am conducting tests on unexplained symptoms on a man who someone tried to murder. You will not see him until those tests are completed. If you try further to obstruct the medical treatment of a man who was almost killed for one more instant I will demand that Mr. Faraday, as an agent for the Policia Nacionál, arrest the bunch of you. Immediately!

  “Is that quite clear?”

  “Now, let’s not push this thing out of hand,” Grossman said. “We’re concerned because we’re business partners in a company building some facilities on Isla Popa. We’ve invested a great deal in the venture and want to know what he did or didn’t accomplish so that we may recoup our funds if what we’ve learned is true.”

  “So? It’s about money? You’re not concerned that your partner was almost murdered?” Doc asked.

  “Of course we’re concerned!” one woman cried. “Do you have any idea of how much money is at stake here? Do you have the least conception of how much we’ve invested in something that might destroy that money?”

  “It’s the money, not the patient?” Doc asked.

  “He’s a partner in a business in which we’ve invested. We naturally concerned wit
h the business. We hardly know Morris, personally. We’re not wealthy. We’ve invested our entire savings in what seemed a very solid project. Now we may lose it all! Of course it’s about the money!” One of the men said.

  “You are?” Doc asked.

  “I’m Mr. Greenwood and this is my wife, Mrs. Greenwood.”

  “We’re Mr. & Mrs. Auermond.”

  “I’m Mrs. Morris!” Sarah snapped, “As if Clint Fuckoff doesn’t know that!”

  “That’s MR. Fuckoff to you,” Clint fired back.

  “I’m Sol Grossman. We’re just upset by this mess. Please excuse our apparent rudeness (a sharp look at Sarah), but we stand to lose more than we can really afford. You people don’t understand the importance of security or the handling of large sums.”

  “I think Mr. Faraday understands a tiny bit about handling funds,” Doc said. “He donated several million dollars to help this and some other hospitals as well as some millions for schools and clinics.”

  “UH! Millions?!” Greenwood cried. He looked like he’d just received a hard punch in the gut. “That is, we’ve invested a bit more than a million dollars in this project. We certainly don’t have millions to throw around in, er, for charity or whatever.”

  What Doc didn’t tell them that the millions Clint was credited with giving was parts of deals when he caught criminals. Though he could have claimed it, he didn’t care for more than enough to get by. He considered people who wanted money for the sake of money to be shallow to empty.

  “Hell! You spent over six million on that new hospital near Puerto Armuelles alone, didn’t you?” Doc asked, trying to hide the laughter in his voice. The Auermonds and Grossman were sitting there with their mouths hanging open. Sarah was about to faint. Grossman was trying to control his expression.

  “Something like that. It was a fairly large project. It’s not important here,” Clint replied.