Trevar's Team 3

by Kieran York

  “Good grades, a lot of drive, scholarships, and loans.” With resentment, I confirmed his parent’s suspicions. “My parents gave me nothing but trouble. I owe them no allegiance.”

  There was compassion in his glance. “I’m sorry.”

  “It has all worked out. Now, I live on a multi-million-dollar yacht and drive a brand-new Mercedes.” I paused a moment. “Enough of my backstory. Let’s talk about your troubles.”

  “Beryl, I’ve been working with a dive team. Treasure. Salvage. One of the divers and I became friends. His name was Simon Wagoner. Well, I…” He was choking up. “I think he’s been murdered. I didn’t kill him or anything,” his words were rushed.

  “What happened?”

  “On the ship, The Sea Fortune, I’d heard Jurg Laski, he was the skipper, screaming at Simon.”

  “About what?”

  “About missing coins.” He leaned nearer. “Jurg accused Simon of lifting a couple million dollars-worth of gold coins and bars of bullion. He said Simon had been stashing the take for a few weeks. Simon then claimed Jurg is paranoid, and everything we’ve brought up has been catalogued and is accounted for. I think maybe Jurg and one of his partners, Dimitri Zhenya, searched Simon because he said they patted him down and found nothing, but they said they’d be keeping an eye on him. Jurg and Dimitri are from Russia originally,”

  “When did the fight happen?”

  “Yesterday. Then last night, Simon said we needed to escape. He said that they suspected both of us. They planned to take care of us. Kill us. I was terrified. Hey, I’m a California surfer, not a mobster. I figured Simon knew what he was talking about. He was scared. So, about midnight, we snuck from our bunks. We were going to board this little speed boat. I got into it, Simon the dropped his duffle bag down inside the boat. As I groped for the starter of the boat’s engine, Simon was coming down the ladder. But the minute the engine started, search lights were on us. Two of the crew had guns aimed at us. Assault rifles. They were Mickey Coleman, and the goon, Dimitri. They pulled Simon up onto the ship. When that happened, I hit the throttle and headed toward land. Beryl, I stole the craft. I’ve never stolen anything in my life. I heard shots rippling in the water. But I thought I was out of range. A few seconds later I hear a bullet spray hitting the hull. Then there was a pause, more gunfire, and I heard Simon’s screaming. Then it was quiet.”

  “You think they shot him?”

  “They tried to kill me, too. The escape craft was damaged and sinking, but it got me near enough to shore. The engine died out, and it began to tip from taking on water. I grabbed my gear, and the duffle bag Simon had brought. I swam the final hundred yards onto the beach. While I dried off, I watched the boat being washed out to sea. Sinking as it went. All the lights on The Sea Fortune went completely dark. Mickey and Dimitri might have thought I was sinking with the boat. Then I made my way to the highway and hitchhiked back to my motel room.”

  “You didn’t report it to authorities?”

  “Beryl, I had no idea if the fortune hunters were still looking for me. Or if they called the cops. I didn’t steal anything. I was scared to death. I didn’t know who I could trust. I was exhausted. I knew I was in trouble. I remembered you lived in Palm Beach. When daylight broke, I cleaned up, and drove to your marina.”

  “Was there anything in Simon’s duffle bag that resembled sparkling treasure?”

  “Nothing.” He blinked nervously. “But Skipper Jurg Laski and his pals don’t know Simon didn’t have any treasure on him. They’re after me.”

  I got his contact information, then tried to reassure him. Boyd Trevar was frightened. He was aware of the danger he was in. When he left my vehicle, he trudged to his Lexus. His steps were labored and his head hung heavily. Steps and head were definitely filled with concern.

  When I returned to our yacht, my own brain was whirling. As I entered the office, Rachel greeted me. I went over the strange meeting of Boyd Trevar, and his story of the vessel he had escaped from – Sea Fortune. I also said I wasn’t certain about the story that his buddy had been killed. I hadn’t heard of a body being located. Or the conveyer boat that Boyd claimed had been shot, and soon sunk off shore. No evidence of a crime. It perplexed me.

  “Chief Powers wants to talk with you,” Rachel broke my concentration.

  Sighing, my body sagged into the chair opposite her desk. “Of course, he does. He’s going to want to scream the entire Justice Department down. I haven’t really talked with him since Jill was hired. He shut me out. And, he wouldn’t take my calls. Now, he wants to make me suffer for my transgression.”

  Palm Beach Chief Tom Powers and I had become besties. Then, when I hired his finest young policewoman away from his squad, I became an enemy. I put my hand over my face, as I shook my head. “He’s not going to forgive me this time. Rach, when I hired you away from him a few years ago, it was terrible. You went from being his pride and joy policewoman, to working on a yacht with a Sapphic fleet of playgirls. Then, he hires Jill Timoteo. and next thing you know, she’s abandoning him.”

  Rachel chuckled. “We have more fun here on the yacht than we did walking the beat. I sometimes miss being an enforcer. But it was time.” She looked away, her eyes reflected a pain she’d held on to, and probably that sadness would never go away. She feared guns and the shooting of them. We both knew that Chief Powers had lost her to Trevar Investigators. However, in my defense, it was by default. She was no longer cop material. She wanted no part of weapons. She was still an invaluable investigator – so she was convinced to stay aboard the Radclyffe Hull. And she was an inside detective. Calls, appointments, this she handily accomplished with acumen and speed. She took care of the office. And more or less filled in as the best office mom on the high seas.

  When I met Rach, she was Officer Rachel Rosen. I was an attorney, and we crossed paths. She now was a glam ex-cop, stay-at-home detective, we’d joked. Approaching thirty years of age, she was eye-catching. Fiery red, shoulder-length hair, neatly style, and radiant hazel eyes, she could soothe with her smile, and scold with her glare. She went from uniform, to fashionista. She brought her chic vogue along with her – wherever she was.

  I inquired, “How are Summer and Jill getting along? They had seemed a little stiff the first week of Jill’s being a member of the Team.”

  “Okay, I guess. This week, I’m not sure they’ve had much to do with one another. They split the list on the Mona and Donald Ogden divorce case. Jill took half the contacts and Summer took the other half.”

  “I was hoping Summer and Jill would stick together, so they could teach each other different investigative techniques.” Rachel and I traded perplexed, undeniably helpless glances.

  Rachel glumly said, “It doesn’t seem to be happening. So what names do you want to run, in case this Boyd is in trouble?”

  Scribbling down the names, I handed them to Rachel. She read them aloud, “Skipper Jurg Laski. I’ve heard he’s a treasure hunter. Dimitri Zhenya. Mickey Coleman.” She repeated, “Micky Coleman. That could be Mitchell Coleman.”

  I felt my neck jerk as I looked up. “Mitch Coleman. He’s been in trouble for drugs, pimping, and last I heard he was in sex trafficking. He’s a slimy bad actor for certain. I thought he was put away for a few years. He’s vermin.”

  “Sprung on a technicality. He’s probably into a new scheme.” Rachel’s law and order glare intensified. “All I know is that he’s out on the streets.”

  “He might have taken all his dirty money and bought a marine salvage and treasure hunting ship. “They also use those kinds of boats for archeology. But I’m pretty sure if Mitchell is working under the name Mickey, he isn’t looking for anything that might be historical. The recovery vessel that they named Sea Fortune isn’t for scholarly artifacts. Not a benefactor cell in their bodies.”

  “Mitch is a dangerous man,” Rachel spoke firm words. “He would and has killed for money, revenge, a woman, or the joy of it. If your long-lost cousin has crossed Mitch,
AKA Mickey, Coleman, he’s in deep waters.” She snickered, and added, “Or he is in grave danger of soon being in a deep waters grave.”

  Agreeing with a shrug, I headed for the door. “Rach, I’m going to drop in and visit Chief Powers. See if Tom’s going to forgive me for head-hunting Jill.”

  “Beryl, he hasn’t yet forgiven you for snatching me away from the police department.”

  We snickered.

  By the time I reached my sleek lunar blue Mercedes-Benz convertible, I’d considered what excuses I might use for hiring Jill. When I arrived at Homicide, I was also wondering if I should mention Boyd’s allegation. By the time I reached Chief Tom Power’s office, I’d decided against it. It was wiser to allow the entire conversation to play out on Tom’s terms.

  “Tom,” I greeted him. Sticking out my hand, I kept it upbeat, “Bygones be bygone. Jill is still chasing the bad guys.”

  “I really don’t have time to chat, Trevar.”

  “You summonsed me.” I was confused.

  “Since then my workload increased.” He glared. His previously craggy face had taken of a hawkish look throughout his nearly fifty years. Dressed in nice suits, shirts and ties, he tugged at his collar and tie constantly. And by noon, it was the rumpled look. “And as you know, I am one enforcer less than the department needs since I lost one of my best.”

  “Jill hasn’t gone over the dark side, Tom.”

  “You’re doing bodyguarding, and snooping. I just got a murder to solve.”

  “Murder?” Leaning over the desk, I questioned, “A murder?”

  Dismayed at my excitement, Tom muttered, “Relax. It doesn’t require your attention. You women have your own cases.”

  “Someone was killed?”

  Perturbed, he paused before answering. “A guy. A fresh body washed up on North Beach. We’re working on identification now.”

  “Maybe I could help you.” I plunged down in the chair across from him at his desk.

  “Look, I don’t want you and your detectives – well two of my detectives that you poached. I don’t want any of you involved.”

  “Are you going to cut Rachel out of the loop of technical data?”

  “Don’t play coy. You know the minute I lock her out of the computer information, she’ll chop her way back in.”

  “That would be hack her way back in.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Breach our security.”

  I asked, “So what do you have on this drowning victim?”

  “Murder victim. It was a homicide. Ten or twelve slugs in him. Handgun. At close range.”

  “Okay, Tom. Let’s go back to being pals. I can furnish a name. Maybe a motive. And maybe help you with locating where the body might have come from.”

  Disbelievingly, he leaned nearer. “Keep talking.”

  “We keep our mutual cooperation in place, and I keep talking. Rachel gets access to forensics. You see that we get any updates.”

  “What do you know?”

  “My best guess is that your victim is a deep-sea diver named Simon Wagoner. He might have come off a treasure-hunting rig called Sea Fortune. Operated by Skipper Jurg Laski, and his partner Mickey Coleman. Here’s where that mutual cooperation is important to me. Is Mickey Coleman AKA Mitchell Coleman? And does Laski have a rap sheet? Also, any information on Dimitri Zhenya.”

  “I’ll email you Coleman’s file. And anything I have on Laski.” He jotted down the names. “As I recall, Laski skated on the law without even a hand slap. Do you have anyone to ID him and Coleman?”

  “I might.” I wasn’t going to frost the cake for him. I would keep information on Boyd quiet. I would also keep information on the speedboat that Boyd had escaped with. “For now, all that I have and all that has been verified, I just gave you.”

  Chief Powers stood. He grinned for the first time. “Trevar, you’re my best confidential informant. I don’t even have to put you on the payroll.”

  “Tom, information is valuable. You’re going to be keeping Trevar’s Team in the loop. And I don’t have to put you on my payroll.” He’d told me that the killers probably interrogated Simon, got no answers, and shot him with a handgun. Easier to get rid of by tossing it in the ocean. And they probably used one of their speedboats to dispose of Simon’s body. They hadn’t expected the body to float to shore as quickly as it had. Someone failed to attach enough weights to Simon. “You’re an excellent source of information, maybe even as good as I am.”

  Chief Powers didn’t scratch his head until I reached the door. “Stay safe.”

  When I got to my vehicle, I immediately called Rachel. I reported the new information. We indeed had a murder on our hands. And we also had a witness that we had to keep under wraps. I also told Rachel that Tom would be cooperative. Then I asked her to contact cousin Boyd and tell him to stay put. Also, to tell him that I’d contact him in the morning. I requested Rachel to see that both Boyd and I receive copies of Mitchel Coleman’s mug shots when she got them from Chief Powers. Also, ask Boyd if the photo ID'd Mickey Colman.

  Meanwhile, I had a contact to make. Might not be anything, but the woman I was going to visit made a wonderful cocktail, and she lifted my spirit.

  When Mandy Jewel opened the door at her luxury Palm Beach apartment, she did it with her usual show biz flourish. As always, she looked amazing. Always she was fully made up with the best cosmetics possible. Short, styled silver hair was thick and meticulously presented. Although in her mid-sixties, she looked a decade and a half younger. Presentable, always. For having been a luxury madam to the wealthy and famous, she still had it.

  “Beryl, I’ve been wondering what you’ve been doing?” She ushered me in.

  I sat on her plush sofa. She went directly to her bar and began mixing one of her new concoctions. I caught her up on the Team’s latest case. “So, I’m here to see if you might identify a guy that used to work in sex trafficking.”

  I pulled my phone out and checked. Rachel didn’t lose any time getting the photo of ex-con Mitchell Coleman to me. “Here,” I said as I held up the screen.” Mandy put down the pink rum flavored drinks on the glass top of the table. The cocktails were artistic sculptures with booze, etc., and chunks of fruit. I sipped, “Oh, my goddess, this just tastes delicious.”

  “It has a little coconut flavor to it.” She took my phone, examining it with a frown before she snickered. “This is that loathsome man known to the babe’s trade. Mitch Coleman. He started as a rotten little juvie rat. Pimping. I warned him off my women a few times. I’m sure he’s glad I’ve retired. But then after his last arrest, I’ve heard he’s retired, too.”

  “He’s only in his mid-thirties, so he’s not ready for Social Security to kick in.” I paused a moment. “Any idea what he’s doing now?”

  “Nothing legal. I heard he was incarcerated for a while. Sad to say he’s out on the streets.” She sipped tenderly. “This could use more of something. Maybe rum,” she answered with a laugh. “Mitch. Yes. I never had much to do with him. I was retiring when he was going from street pimp to somewhat classy whores. He was never into the same game. Classy women wouldn’t work with him. He was very downgraded. Sex traffickers blur the line of consent now. He’s out of the slammer again, who knows?”

  “That’s exactly what I’ve heard. I heard there is a ‘Mickey’ Coleman doing treasure hunting.” I watched Mandy’s face wrinkling into a frown. “Not confirmed. You don’t think he’d go into that?”

  “It might be a little too clean for him. Not saying it’s clean. I’ve heard some of the companies scrape off a little from the top. A scam here and there. So, if Mitch is Mickey now, he may be only reporting half the takings. No report, no tax.”

  “I’ll know later.” I knew I could trust Mandy, and so I confided fully. My newfound cousin, the dead man washing up on the beach - presumed to be Simon Wagoner, and my own list of unknowns.

  “And you believe your cousin just decided to leave Sea Fortune?”

  “Mandy, I’m perplexed.
If his pal Simon needed to take off, maybe Boyd was concerned for his own safety. Boyd seems like a nice guy, but he’s doesn’t seem all that sophisticated as a criminal.”

  “And,” Mandy interjected, “why would the owners suspect Simon of stealing their takings? You’ve got to admit, Simon and Boyd taking off during the night was probably not reassuring. And if Simon is dead, and he was lifting the bounty – Boyd could very well be involved. Then there’s the owners, Jurg and Mickey. They’ll be looking for the sea swag.”

  “That puts Boyd in danger.” I sighed.

  “And you and your women. If Mickey is Mitch, beware. He has beaten more women than you’ve dated.”

  I chuckled. “You’d be amazed at how few women I’ve been with.”

  “And Palm Beach would be amazed at how few men I’ve been with.”

  Mandy and I laughed a good part of the evening. She ordered out dinners to be delivered, from the fancy dining, and lush Orchids. She’d ordered us Parmesan scallops, almond and orange bread, and chocolate pecan cheesecake. I called Rachel to say I would be fine dining with Mandy. Rach seemed a tad distant. I was pretty sure Summer and Jill might be providing the cool climate. That was confirmed before I hung up. Summer and Jill were both in their separate staterooms, having retired early.

  Meanwhile, Mandy keep my spirits high with her amazing drinks, the delivered dinner, and her exceptionally fun stories.

  “I must tell you,” she said. “I’ve always admired Sapphics.”

  I giggled. A former madam admired lesbians. “I’ll bite. Why?”

  “Well, somehow womanhood must have been purer.”

  “How so?” I inquisitively asked.

  “All humans began female. The Y chromosome – which is only present in males – is not activated in the first five or six weeks of embryonic development. You might say men mutated their way into the species.”

  We laughed numerous times making reference to her science revelation.

  It was ten o’clock when I arrived back aboard Radclyffe Hull.