by Moulton, CD
He had been in the Fiesta the night before, had won a couple hundred dollars and had connected with one of the “ladies” who frequented the place. It was very likely he’d be back that night. He came in about ten the first time so that might be a pattern. Clint would be there at ten.
There he was! He fit the description perfectly. He was wearing some new expensive clothes and showing a little money. Clint knew damned well he’d know not to show much. He wondered how much he’d left out for the woman of last night to take.
Clint waited until he was sitting at the end of the upstairs bar with an empty stool on either side to go sit next to him and say, “Anderson. Bocas.”
“And you?”
“Faraday, almost anywhere in Panamá.”
“Oh, shit! Look. I might have done a job, but it wasn’t anything like, I mean ... Oh, shit!”
“I’m not after you. Calm down. I just want to know which one or ones should be asked to leave Panamá permanently.”
“First was some idiot woman on the phone who wanted me to get rid of her husband. He was squandering everything they had. I think it was about some other woman or maybe two of them or something. I asked her who and she told me it was some guy who someone tried to kill on Isla Popa so it could be made to look like part of that. They’d get the insurance that would bail them out of trouble and be rid of him at the same time.
“I heard about that and that the cops would be watching every move he made and would catch me so no thanks.
“The other, I don’t know. It was by notes with half down and half when it was done. I figured, ‘What the hell? Why not?’ I figured it right then that the same one to get wasted was the one who wanted me to go after her husband. It was just something that, Christ! I just turned the job on her. I don’t know who was behind it. The note said this one was going to David and would be the only one going in a rented car then.”
Clint nodded. “Where were the notes delivered? By whom?”
“While I was at The Reef, on the dock. A kid came and said the man said to give me the note and he’d get a quarter. He spoke English and the note was in English so there wasn’t much chance an Indio kid about ten years old could read it.
“I picked up the cash down, five hundred, at The Reef next day after I sent the kid back with another quarter to tell the man maybe I would be interested.
“Next was another kid with a note that said what he wanted and that I could collect the down at The Reef on the dock the next day at three when there wasn’t anybody around. It would be in a dirty carry-out box in the garbage can.
“I watched the place from the road. I didn’t see when it was put there, but it was there with instructions so I did the job. He probably came in a boat to leave it so I couldn’t see from the road That was all.”
“It was someone who knew the car and where it would go?”
“Yeah. It was a rented Honda and would be on the way to David with two people, one male, one female, and would be the only one going then. I could watch for it at the restaurant where the buses stop because the people would want to get something to eat before going on to David. I could manage something from that point they didn’t want to know about. If the job was done the money would be delivered in a sack with my name on it in David. I was to be in the bus terminal there at six in the morning if I wasn’t contacted with the payment before then.
“I thought I’d probably missed them because it was almost an hour late when they showed up. Anyhow, it was right there in the car! They managed to have the payment hidden there where nobody would look for it so I’d never see them at the terminal or something. They could figure I’d look through the car to see if there was anything that would, er, point to me, you see.
“I got in when they stopped for the restroom and sodas and hid in the crap in the back seat. They didn’t even look back there, just got in and went on. That kid’s a terrible driver!
“Anyhow, I waited until past Mali and stuck a pistol in the kid’s ear and told him to slow down and drive right or I’d blow his fucking head off. We got up by the construction crap lot and I made him pull in, then rapped him lightly over the ear and smacked her with her damned mouth running all the time pretty good!
“She kept yelling that I had the wrong people. There was some kind of mistake, that she didn’t something or other. She was so mad she didn’t make much sense and my English stinks and she didn’t know Spanish so I told her to shut the fuck up or I’d blow her head off before the kid’s. I told her I just wanted a ride up into the mountains and wouldn’t have let them know I was there, even, if the kid knew how to drive. That calmed her down and she said some friends or something had a bad experience when someone tried to hijack them.
“Anyhow, she shut up, more or less, but not for long. She started in again about something or other that her husband caused to happen. She was trying to get me to do something, but it wasn’t making any sense again and she was so pissed at the old man she was ranting. I got about every third word. All about costing her everything and he didn’t even care. I tuned her out, but was glad to smack her up there.
“I did the job and went back to Bocas. No sense in going to David when I already had what I would go for. I guess they figured that, too. That’s all I know.”
“Fair enough. Don’t take any chances anymore. Doing those jobs for anyone except the mob characters will get your ass in a bind you can’t get out of. If it was that I wouldn’t bother to even check it out. Seeing it was what it was I don’t give a damn.
“I’ll tell you something else if you’ll agree not to mess with those kinds of people, even if they are worse than the mob types.”
“I figured that much when you said your name. I figured my ass was about to get scorched for twenty years. Deal.”
“Wear gloves when you shift the gears. You left the second handprint on that knob. If they suspect you of anything else they’ll compare and tag you just like you figured I would. Also, you keep the promise or they’ll get a hint to check your prints for anything anyone did that such a print might solve.”
He grinned and said that would make it sure, for sure!
Clint went back to his car. He started giggling before he got there and was almost howling when he did. Sarah had contacted this bird to get her husband knocked off so she could get the big insurance deal. It wasn’t possible to have him hit so she decided to get the Auermonds hit instead. It would take care of the insurance and she could go back to the states and leave hubby in Panamá.
The Auermonds had left early or something. He missed them at the bombas – but Sarah had headed to David an hour later, expecting to learn to her horror that the Auermonds had an accident and were dead! She had the rest of the hit’s money in a sack like she promised. She had better sense than to try to stiff a hit man.
The Auermonds didn’t show, but she did. In a rented Honda. Two people. Neither the man who sent the notes. The kids told him it was a man and they delivered his answer to a man. Anderson was told there would be two people, one male and one female without telling him their age, in a rented Honda and that they would be the only ones coming through then.
Anderson pops out from under whatever in the back seat in the mountains a bit past Mali. There wasn’t anything else before the dam. Sarah is livid to the point of incoherence, but thinks she can talk him out of doing anything else. She can say the proof is the money in the sack – only he only speaks a very little English and she can’t say ten words in Spanish.
Then he sounds like some joker running from the law or something who just wants a ride into the mountains. He only let them know he was back there because William is a bad driver. He would get out up where he could hide from the police in the mountains.
He tells them to pull into the access road so he can get out, then handles the job. He has the payment he was promised. She’d arranged for it to be right there in the car where she knew he’d find it!
He went back to Bocas, another job done well.
> Clint wondered if it dawned on her in the last seconds of her life that she’d paid for her own murder.
Now all he had to know was who the man was who had the kids deliver the money. It should be Grossman – but he had disappeared.
Maybe just because he didn’t want to be around to be identified if anything went wrong?
It could still be Robert. He could have set it up to go down exactly the way it did go down. It could be Greenwood, who was there in Bocas town.
That meant finding Grossman. That would resolve it as much as he felt it needed resolution.
Find Grossman
“So that’s how I figure it happened,” Clint finished telling Sergio, Dave and Judi. “Now I have to find Grossman to know if I’ve figured right.”
“And the Greenwoods and the Auermonds,” Sergio pointed out.
“I don’t give a shit about them. They’re going anyhow and won’t be back here. I’ll get word to them through a friend that they’re wanted for questioning about a murder if they ever step foot in Panamá again.”
“Grossman is going, too,” Judi pointed out.
“Probably, but he’d be the type to come back. If he gets away with anything here he won’t worry about being arrested and questioned next trip. He’s a lot more savvy about how that works. He knows damned well that there would simply be an order on his name and passport that he was not to be allowed in the country.”
“I can have that order inserted,” Sergio said. “I can make a report that they are involved with schemes to defraud, which hurts investment and tourism and that even other gringos don’t want them here.”
“And Clint wouldn’t ever know for sure who had those obnoxious people killed,” Judi said. “I think I’d like to know if I figured it right. The important thing is if Robert Morris was the one. That would mean he has to go – right, Clint?”
“That, and I think Manny would like to put something for the Indios on Popa. It’s a good location for them to bring bananas, coconuts, coffee, cacao, chickens – what have you – for shipping on to Almirante or Bocas Town. It would save them several hours of carrying the stuff themselves. They would bring enough there from all those islands and from Tierra Oscura to make it a pretty profitable deal for everyone. Manny has that materials barge that’s as much as rusting away where it sits so he can clean it up and use it in that shallow water.”
“I think that might be a good idea,” Sergio said. “I’ll keep the order to find Grossman out. Maybe he’ll show up now that the insurance part won’t happen.
“I have to get back to the station. I’ll talk with you later.” He waved and went out.
“Do you think Manny would really be interested in that kind of small business?” Judy asked when Sergio was gone. “I know he might want to set it up so the Indios can run it, but it seems so tiny compared with the millions he made in the mob business.”
“I’ve talked with him about using the old barge. He loves the idea because it’ll make most of those mob kingpins know for certain he’s not Bocinni. They’ll think exactly like you suggested and the Indios can get a bit of help with it. It’s true they spend six or eight hours a day, two days a week carrying that stuff all the way from there to Almirante. The bulk Manny would carry means a small margin/big volume operation so it should work out pretty well.
“Now to find Grossman. I wish I had a clue!”
“I might know someone who knows someone who could find out where he is. Flora’s meeting with us in about an hour for the street cleanup committee. I’ll see what I can do.”
Clint didn’t doubt for a second she would find something. She always did.
“He’s driving a rented car. Flora’s husband services them for Budget in Changuinola. He left Changuinola and turned the car in at the airport in David. Carlos, the porter for Venture Air, told Edwardo he took a flight to San Blas.
“You would have found all that out, anyhow, but I hope it saves time or something,” Judi reported.
“It saves me three days of going to David and finding which agency he used, then which flight he took. You did it in an hour and a half. If it wouldn’t screw up both our lives I’d ask you to marry – well, live with me.”
She laughed. “We’re living a hundred fifty meters away from each other, we’re in each other’s house all the time now. That’s enough.”
“I guess I’ll go as directly as I can to San Blas. I’ve never been there. I hear it’s a great place. Want to come along?”
“I’m going next month with a friend so I’ll beg off.”
Clint nodded and went the hundred fifty meters back to his place, packed a few things and went to the airport. He had to go to Changuinola for a flight where there was only one direct on Fridays.
He flew to David, then took the flight that left there three times per week. It left David an hour after Clint arrived. He’d used the net to book a seat.
The flight was pleasant except for one middle-aged woman from France who could find fault with anything you could mention. She was in the seat behind him and he could hear her constant complaining all the way. When they got off the plane he couldn’t resist asking her why she stayed here in this hell when France was so perfect. No one forced her to come here, did they?
She called the guard over to complain that he was being deliberately rude to her. The guard said there was no law against being rude to people who were rude to you. She didn’t know how to take that, but she shut up for ten minutes – until the baggage man was throwing around her expensive suitcases like they were cheap cardboard boxes like the people here were used to, then was furious because the Cunas (native Indios) refused to help her with her luggage. Clint said she was so picky with everything they felt she would find an excuse to not pay them and would accuse them of all sorts of things. If she was going to be a pain in the ass to everyone around her she could expect a lot of that.
She was looking for a guard to complain about him when he said, “Have a nice day!” and walked away. One of the Indios who spoke English very well walked out with him. He said they got that type about once a month. The word was out about her from the attendant on the flight so she would find all the taxis were occupied except for Luis, who kept two. One was a rustbucket that smelled of old garbage and stale beer. “If she enjoys complaining about every damned thing we will give her a real cause to complain.”
Clint high-fived him and asked where the best hotel at reasonable cost was. He was told about a place the natives stay that was cheap, clean and comfortable. There would only be room available for her at the Paraiso Verde, the most expensive one there – unless she had sense enough to get reservations before anyone there met her.
Clint asked about Grossman, saying he would be arrogant and treat them like serfs, but wasn’t a tenth as obnoxious as that woman. He described Grossman.
“Yes. Sol. He’s not so bad. He said he got a few lessons about being a tourist in Bocas. You?”
“Several people. He’s involved in a company that just got scammed out of enough to break all the partners.”
“No title?”
“No. It’s titled, but is in the wrong place for what they wanted.”
“Happens a lot here! I’ll get to the docks for the ferry. I’m Kelvin.”
“Clint. Mucho gusto – oh, yeah! Where is Sol staying?”
“Mar Vista.” He waved and went toward the dock where the ferry was just coming into sight. Fifteen minutes before docking.
Clint considered staying at the native pension. He liked the people there one hell of a lot more than he liked the tourists, but he’d be better for what he wanted to stay at the Mar Vista.
They had a room with a balcony adjoining Sol’s room. He grinned to himself and went up. The place was better than he really had expected and the view of the ocean beautiful. There was a very good beach with a breeze coming in off the Caribbean and the hotel had a pool.
Clint could never understand why those people would come to the Caribbean with its c
lean water and only swim in a pool full of chlorine. It didn’t make sense to him.
To each his own.
Grossman wasn’t there at the time. It was late afternoon and he would probably be in one of the more popular bars. The floor attendant said he went out most nights and stayed until about eleven. He sometimes had a professional lady with him when he returned.
Clint grinned and said this was the kind of place people wanted to get away from the proper work life. She agreed and said she could get him a woman anytime, so remember her. Clint said he would.
Kelvin was out front of the hotel when he went out. He asked where there was a good restaurant – typical, not tourist. He liked native foods.
“Yet you stay here?”
“Because my business is with someone staying here so I didn’t really have a choice. I want to know the kind of place I like for when I come back. I think I’ll come back here at times. It’s really a beautiful place.”
They chatted a few minutes, then Clint said he’s spring for dinner if there was a good place they’d both like. He was taken to a small place about half a kilometer from the tourist town where he got a truly delicious meal.
He went back to the hotel and sacked out. He was up, as always, at five in the morning and was sitting on his little balcony with a pot of coffee supplied by the hotel when Grossman wandered out onto the balcony.
“Faraday? Following me?”
“Uh-huh. I have to find out a couple of things.”
“Like?”
“Did you arrange for Sarah and William to get knocked over or was it Greenwood or Auermond who arranged it?”
He stared at Clint for a moment. “Sarah and William? Knocked off?
“I haven’t been in touch with any of them. It was getting tiresome for them to keep railing about losing their life savings instead of looking for a way to make a go of something else there. I think we can find something, but I’d rather be able to buy them out cheap. The insurance will pay them off if any of us die.
