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

by Moulton, CD

  “So. What’s it about? I’ve heard the land isn’t worth anything, but that would depend on what you want to do with it.”

  “What do you want to do with it?”

  “Let it sit for five to ten years, then turn it over for a big profit when the influx gets going good. There are a lot of people who want land like that. It’s got a view and some coast with beaches so it’s got enormous potential.

  “If I don’t invest in something longterm I’ll throw the money away and end up broke in a year or so. This’ll force me to live within my means.”

  “There aren’t any beaches there. The sand’s out of the water at low tide and there’s nothing there but slick rocks in the water that’s only a few centimeters deep.”

  “So I’ve been told. A man was trying to get me to go out there with him before I signed anything or gave anyone any money. He said he would take me to where I couldn’t deny he was telling the truth. He said there was something else about the property he was checking on.

  “I had an engineer with credentials with the government out there. He looked over the charts and so forth the government has and said I can dredge my own channel up to ten meters wide and can use the sand to expand the beach there because it’s a lot of rocks that don’t serve much ecological purpose and that is protected by the shallows outside from washout.

  “Santamaria. That was the person who was murdered on a bus or something. I remember seeing something about it on TV.”

  “He was murdered by Robinson. So was a man named Sucha, who had the bad fortune to see Robinson with Santamaria’s fancy cell phone after Santamaria was dead. Robinson had a gun pointed at my head when he died. He allowed me one second when he was distracted. Castillo was driving him and got the hell out of there before I could get a shot at her.”

  Williams was staring at Clint in disbelief. “But ... but she ... I was with her when you called! She wanted me to put something down on the land because she said Robinson had another interested buyer who would pay more and she had a lot of time and money invested in the sale to me!”

  “She wants money to be able to run. The police are after her slimy ass bigtime!” Clint took out his phone and called the police to report that she was in Divisa an hour ago. Williams told them where his place was and said she took the Las Tablas cut-off road. They would have her in fifteen minutes. There wasn’t anywhere for kilometers where she could get off that road. They would call Clint the minute they had her and he could come to Divisa station to identify her and her car. Williams said he’d like to be along to find what was really going on. He’d given her five hundred dollars to hold the land. He had first refusal at the price already quoted.

  They had another beer and waited until the call came that she would be at the station in ten minutes. The officer who called said she was the type that made cops want the right to smack them in the mouth. He was definitely going to report her for trying to bribe him with two hundred dollars to give her one-half hour to get away.

  “Well, let’s see exactly what the hell this is really about!” Williams said. “It seems extreme. I knew most of what was wrong with the land and would’ve bought it anyhow. I would’ve tried to get the price down more, but it was good enough for me as it was.”

  They finished their beer and headed for the station.

  “She’s being entered now. She’s a lawyer so she’s giving us one hell of a time quoting laws that don’t apply to criminal cases,” Javier, the police officer who brought her in reported. “I would love the right to smack that one in the mouth a few times – and I don’t believe in hitting a woman for any reason! What a bitch!”

  They chatted and Clint explained more about the bus and what he figured was happening. Much of it was confirmed. She was involved in a land scam that resulted in the murders and the attempt on his own life. Javier got the report on Santamaria to add what Clint found. “Did you know he had been checking the registro and catastro?” he asked.

  “Who? Santamaria?”

  “Yes. This may have some grave import on the murders and explain why Robinson always was so adamant about keeping anyone else out of it. Williams has stated he knew the land was considered worthless, but he had a plan. The state of the land wasn’t very deeply involved in his decision – but problems with catastro and the registro could well mean it was about something more.”

  “Larry, let’s go to catastro right now! I have the authorization papers with the police to get me into those files fast!”

  “I will accompany you,” Javier suggested. “If what I am suspecting eventuates there is ten times the motive that a court would demand. It will make this a, as you gringos say about basketball, slam dunk!”

  They headed for the public records department and checked on the Robinson land. It turned out the land was owned by Robinson’s uncle and that it had never changed registration, which meant the land legally belonged to a son of his uncle since the uncle died in an accident six years ago. A Paulo Santana Robinson. A sale could be contested – successfully – at any time. The land wasn’t legally Robinson’s to sell.

  “So. We know what Santamaria found,” Javier said. “We have far more than enough motive for all of it. Castillo has to know about this. It is what a lawyer does. She will be part of the, as you call it, scam. She knew of this one day after agreeing to sell it.”

  “Yup!” Clint agreed. Williams nodded.

  “Say! Does that thing have a way to get in touch with this Santana character?” Williams asked.

  “Yes. It has an address, if an old one,” Javier said and gave him the address. In David

  “Well! It looks like I’m heading for David! I might still want to buy it if Santana wants to sell.”

  “He will,” Clint said. “He doesn’t even know he has it, it seems.”

  “Do not be too sure,” Javier warned.

  “Oh?” Williams replied.

  “I see,” Clint said. “His name and number are on those papers. It could mean that he’s in on the scam. Sell it to you for a fairly cheap price, Robinson and Castillo go somewhere with the money, then Santana makes a claim. He knows about the land being his from those records right there.”

  “Phew!” from Williams.

  “Still want to go? You may have him in a spot where he has to sell it to you damned cheap to stay out of some serious charges himself,” Clint pointed out.

  “I’m not interested in any forced or crooked ... but they were trying to do that to me! Let’s get this boat in the water! Your car or mine?”

  “I’m going there anyhow. Mine.”

  They finished the business with the police, Larry went home to get some clothes and so forth, Clint had another beer, then they were on the way to David.

  “Mr. Santana? I’m Lawrence Williams. I was going to buy your property in Arenas. Robinson is dead and Castillo is in the pen. It’s your land and I want it. How much?

  “Figure your cut of what they were going to scam me out of and I’ll pay that for it as soon as it’s registered in my name. Título.”

  “Título? I think not.”

  “Then you don’t think at all,” Clint said. “Clint Faraday. Police and private detective, acting as private detective here, but it could become police with a word.”

  “Er?”

  “It was a scam that resulted in three people dying. If you don’t make the sale it shows your complicity, therefore your guilt, in the scam and murders. Simple,” Williams said.

  “Six to ten years,” Clint agreed.

  Santana sat down. Hard. He stuttered a bit, but didn’t quite say anything.

  “Well?!” Williams demanded. “How much? I’ll see if I want to spend that or if I’ll wait for your conviction and buy it from the government for thirty two cents a meter. Titled!”

  “Thirty cents a meter and you get the title. I’ll sign the papers with a notary.”

  Williams raised an eyebrow at Clint, who nodded the slightest bit.

  “I’ll have to think ... but
I want to do this today so I can get back to Divisa. Twenty six cents. That will make it cost about what they were going to charge.”

  “WHAT!!” he screamed. “They were going to sell it for sixty cents a meter?! They told me they were getting forty cents!”

  “They were crooks. You were one, too. You believed them?” Clint asked. “You would split thirds, huh?”

  He nodded.

  “Give him twenty cents a meter. He comes out better than he would have and so do you.” Clint said to Williams. “He was going to scam you out of a little himself.”

  “I would have had the land back to sell again!” he protested.

  “There would never have been a second deal after you tried it once,” Williams pointed out. “I’ll split the difference. Twenty three cents.”

  Santana nodded and gave him a sickly grin. They went to the catastro and got in just before it closed for the day. They would have to finish it tomorrow, but Clint wasn’t needed anymore. He arranged for a law firm he knew to handle it. He warned Williams of what lawyers were like – as Castillo should have shown him. Take care!

  “That, I can promise you!” he replied.

  Clint soon headed back to Bocas. On the main road. No more detours. They seemed to have a way of turning sour on him.

  “So that was about it. He got the land, titled, cheaper than they were going to sell it to him for. It’s worthless now, but his plans might make him come out,” Clint explained to Judi as they drove toward Chiriqui Grande. “It was one hell of an experience, but I found a place I’ll have to show you sometime.”

  “I love everyplace you’ve taken me to meet your Indio friends,” she agreed. “We’re going to Punta Peña, then to Chiriqui Grande, then to Cusapín to one of those places right now so I’ll love it. I always do.”

  “They’re the real Panamá. I love this place more every day.”

  “I feel the same. Bocas grows stale if you stay too long, but it’s a great place for a base. We go all over the country from there.”

  “Uh-huh. Anyhow, Castillo got six years. We kept the agreement with Santana and didn’t press any charges, but he knows we can if he ever gets out of line again. He came out good.”

  “Oh! We’re coming to the Valle de Aguas road! We can take a detour there right to Punta Peña!”

  Clint gave her the finger.

  C. D. Moulton’s works are available on most major outlets as printed or e-books. CD writes the CD Grimes, PI mysteries, the Det. Lt. Nick Storie mysteries, the Clint Faraday mysteries, the Flight of the Maita science fiction series, books on orchid culture and many others of many types. Mystery, adventure, intrigue, science fiction, fantasy, para-normal, mild erotica, and factual.