“Didn’t see the tall one, but the other two look a lot like the men trying to sell the dinghies.”
Captain Jay looked out into the bay.
“They’re not here,” Dave said. “After an hour or so the man with the scraggly beard in your photo walked away and came back with a box. Adrian told me later that he came in and bought a few gallons of green paint and some brushes, rollers and tape. Anyway, both men towed the dinghies back to their boat and left. Looked to be sailing north, not south.”
“D-did you see the n-name on the stern?” Tommy asked.
“Sure did.”
“D-did y-you s-see th-the n-ame on th-the s-stern?” came a reply from across the room.
Tommy stood and walked toward the three men. Arlan and Captain Jay didn’t bother to follow. Tommy didn’t need their help. Not for just three men.
The lady with the European accent said, “Those men are assholes.”
Dave said, “I think your friend might need some help.”
Arlan said, “No. It’s the other way around.” He and Captain Jay both smiled.
Arlan asked Dave, “What was the name on the boat?”
Tommy walked within inches of the men at the table and said with no stutter and no anger, “You need to apologize.”
All heads turned to the table across the room.
The men stood, their laughs turning to frowns. Each was taller than Tommy, which probably gave them a boatload of confidence. It wouldn’t matter.
“Go fuck yourself,” the man on the far side of the table said.
Tommy stepped away from the table to allow the three men to bunch together. He then said, “I don’t care for that kind of language. You need to apologize twice.”
Dave and his friends were uneasy and squirmed in their chairs. Dave stood. No small man himself, he said, “If you aren’t going to help your friend, I will,” and started toward the other side of the café.
Captain Jay reached out, grabbed his arm and said, “Don’t. Tommy will be fine. You’ll only get in his way. It’ll be over in a minute.”
Dave looked to Arlan, who smiled and shrugged. He sat back down.
Across the room the man closest to Tommy on his right shouted, “Fuck you, you pussy!” and tried to shove Tommy.
Tommy grabbed the man’s left wrist with both hands and twisted it behind his back and up so high everyone heard a loud pop. The man tried to use his right arm to grab at Tommy, but Tommy held him at bay by applying more pressure. The man yelped.
Tommy said, “What is it you don’t understand about apologizing?”
The man to Tommy’s left moved behind Tommy. Tommy took his left hand from the first man’s wrist, placed it behind the man’s neck and, with a strong upward pull with his right hand, an equally strong push with his left hand and a kick to the man’s knees, Tommy brought the first man’s head down onto the table, breaking his nose. Tommy then quickly snapped his left elbow back and into the second man’s throat. The man immediately reached for his throat with both hands and dropped to the floor.
Arlan and Jay smiled. Their new friends at the next table recoiled at the sudden and decisive violence. With two of the three tourists out of the fight, Tommy looked at the third, who kept his distance on the opposite side of the table.
Tommy smiled and nodded to the man still standing, who backed away with his hands up and said, “Sorry, man. We didn’t mean it to make fun of you.”
“You n-need to apologize,” Tommy said.
The man looked confused until Tommy took a step forward. He then said, “Okay. Sorry for me and my friends. We didn’t mean anything by it.”
Tommy looked at the two men on the floor and said, “C-consider the n-nose and the throat t-tourist souvenirs.”
Dave and his friends stood to leave, afraid of Tommy or maybe worried the police might show up. Dave leaned toward Captain Jay and Arlan and said, “If I ever see you guys again remind me not to cuss.” He smiled and then said, “By the way, Happy Hobo’s new name is Pappy Bobo.”
Arlan laughed. It took Captain Jay a moment to respond.
“What the fuck’s a Pappy Bobo?” Jay asked.
Arlan shrugged.
Dave laughed and said, “Some other guys and I have been wondering about that since the boat left the bay. None of us could figure it out.”
Tommy came back and sat in his chair while the three men who’d challenged him put cash on the table and walked from the café to one of the dinghies on the beach—one choking and another leaving a trail of blood.
Tommy smiled and said, “Those g-guys were rude.”
“We know that, Tommy,” Arlan said.
Captain Jay stood and said, “Let’s go. We’ve got a name and a better description. We need to return the van to Pierre and get in contact with Forrest. He needs to fly south.”
“How do you know they’re going down island?” Arlan asked. “Dave told us they headed north.”
“They’re headin’ south, Rookie.”
“Even if they are heading south there are a lot of islands where they could stop on the way. Or they could sail west of the islands to who knows where.”
“He’s close, Rookie, and we’re gonna catch that son-of-a-bitch,” Captain Jay said, more determined than ever.
“You mean we’re going to find Lisa.”
“Yeah. That’s what I said.”
Chapter 9
Day 7: OCT 20 (Afternoon)
Captain Jay, Tommy and Arlan returned to the guesthouse where Pierre’s Happy House manager came out of his office and told Jay that Pierre had an important message for him from his brother-in-law, the police chief.
“What is it?” Captain Jay asked.
“Something about an American lady in Grand Case, on the French side of the island. Pierre told me to call him as soon as you showed up. He’s on his way from the electronics store.”
A minute later Pierre half-walked and half-ran toward the guesthouse from around the block where his store was located.
“Captain Jay, I called all around the island looking for you. A friend who owns a cafe in Philipsburg told me that you’d beat up some tourists and left in my van.”
Captain Jay laughed and pointed to Tommy, who’d slid the side door open and was reclining in the back seat. “He did it.”
Tommy sat up and offered his hand through the open sliding door. “N-nice to m-meet you. I’m Tommy.”
Pierre shook Tommy’s hand and stood back, confused. “My friend told me that three big tourists left his café pretty beat up.”
Tommy grinned and said, “Only t-two had injuries.”
Pierre looked at Jay and then Arlan. Both smiled and shrugged.
Pierre looked back at Tommy. He then shook his head and said to Captain Jay, “My brother-in-law told me that a crazy American lady came into the police station in Grand Case last night with a story about kidnapping and stealing a sailboat and dinghies. She told him where she had escaped from the stolen boat and where it was anchored. The officer told her that he would send somebody to check the bay in the morning, when it was light. He then sent her away, thinking she was on drugs.”
“What was her name?” Arlan asked.
“The officer didn’t write it down and couldn’t remember. But, this morning a policeman was sent to the bay west of Grand Case to see if the boat she claimed was stolen was still there. It wasn’t, but there was a dead man in the bush behind the beach.”
“Who’s the dead man?”
“It seems he’s a local. My brother-in-law doesn’t know if it’s related but asked that you drive there to meet him.”
“Where’s the crazy American lady?” Captain Jay asked.
“The police found her this morning on a bench near the dock in Grand Case. She told them she had no money and no place to go and, after repeating her s
tory, they took her back to the station. She’s there now.”
Captain Jay looked over at Arlan, then to Tommy. “Let’s go.” He then looked back at Pierre and said, “You comin’?”
“No. I must get back to my store. My brother-in-law is expecting you. His name is Philippe.”
Jay paused and looked at Tommy and Arlan, then sheepishly asked Pierre, “How do I get there?”
Pierre laughed and said, “It is an island. Take any road. You can’t get lost.”
Both Arlan and Tommy laughed. Arlan remembered Captain Jay telling him the same thing the first time he got on the ferryboat to St. Thomas to use Jay’s old Willys Jeep to find provisions.
Captain Jay slapped his hands down on the steering wheel and said, “Jesus, Pierre. What is the shortest way to get there?”
“Oh, le raccourci?”
“Dammit, Pierre. Stop the French shit. This ain’t France.”
“But I am French and French territory is less than one mile from here. You’re heading into the middle of it. If you spoke a little of our language you would be better liked, you know.”
“How the fuck do I get to Grand Case, see voo play?”
Pierre laughed again and said, “Turn left at the corner and follow the signs to Marigot. Keep going until you get to the next town. You should be there in less than thirty minutes.”
A squall, with its almost horizontal rain, hit the van as soon as they turned the corner. It passed them by in a minute, leaving behind hot, steaming humidity that rose from the watered-down, sun-baked concrete roads and buildings. Sweat dripped from Arlan’s forehead.
The drive was over relatively flat terrain with no elevated views of the sea and other islands, but as they entered Grand Case, they could see north out into open sea and saw another squall line heading west.
“This w-weather is going t-to keep Forrest from s-seeing too much,” Tommy said.
Arlan looked at his watch and wondered what they’d do if Forrest didn’t spot the Happy Hobo. They had no idea if Lisa was alive, and they had no clue where to search next. It was mid-afternoon, and depending on what they found out in Grand Case, if anything, they’d have little daylight left to continue their search. Arlan didn’t look forward to blindly heading south in search of the Happy Hobo with the weather worsening.
* * *
The tiny police station in Grand Case was easy to find. Captain Jay parked the van next to a black police truck, garnering a smile from a tall, hatless man wearing a dark-blue police uniform who stood outside the passenger side of the vehicle listening to two shorter policemen gesticulating and speaking their native French language. Arlan noticed that the two shorter policemen wore no jackets and that their light-blue dress shirts had perspiration spots under their armpits that extended to their waists. Captain Jay, Arlan and Tommy stepped out of the van at the same time a man who had been sitting in the driver’s side of the truck got out with his hand on the hilt of the firearm he wore in a shoulder holster.
“Calm down, Luis,” the tall man said in French accented English. The driver relaxed, and Philippe walked toward the van.
“I’m Commandant Creque, but you can call me Philippe,” he said. “You must be Pierre’s friends.” He looked at the van’s moniker and smiled. He then said, “How do you like driving around in Pierre’s Happy House van?”
Captain Jay said, “I feel like I’m a driver for a whore house.”
“Or a ch-children’s nursery,” Tommy said.
Philippe laughed and said, “At least you had no problem at the border?”
“No. We were waved through,” Arlan said.
Philippe said, “Everybody knows Pierre, and he is welcomed on both sides of the island with no hassles.” He paused a moment and said, “I’ve already heard of your exploits on the other side of the island. I just want to remind you that, on this side, you will call the police before taking matters into your own hands.”
Arlan thought that they might be in hostile territory but saw the brief smile Philippe flashed his driver after his warning to the Americans.
“Gentlemen, it is hot out here. Let us go inside and talk in the shade.”
Philippe turned and spoke to the two short policemen in French. They walked to a nearby black and white sedan and drove away. The driver of the black truck turned on the engine and sat in the air-conditioned interior. Philippe stepped aside and swept his arm toward the entrance to the police station.
“After you, gentlemen,” he said, paying particular attention to Tommy.
The station’s interior was painted yellow and was sparsely furnished, with a countertop-high front desk that divided the room and a wooden bench against the entry wall. A glass-walled conference room with a table that could seat at least eight people was to the left of the entrance. There were two doors behind the front desk. A large man dressed in the same style as the two policemen who left in the sedan had come through one of the doors, and Arlan could hear the last throws of a toilet’s flush as he closed the door behind him. He saluted Philippe.
“Sergeant,” Philippe said to the large man. “How is the American woman?”
The sergeant glanced toward the other door and said, “She is fine, Commandant.”
Philippe turned and said to Captain Jay, “I’ve guessed that you are Captain Jay, based on Pierre’s description.” He then nodded to Tommy and asked, “What is your name, may I ask?”
“I’m T-Tommy. Tommy L-Lowell,” Tommy answered with a grin.
Philippe nodded and then said, “And then you are the rookie, according to Pierre?”
“Arlan. Arlan O’Brien. Captain Jay calls me Rookie, though I have no idea why. I’m a seasoned veteran of countless adventures he’s dragged me into. And I’m still alive—so far.”
Philippe laughed and said, “Let us hope you survive this one as well.”
Philippe pulled a small notebook from his front pocket, opened it and silently reviewed his notes. He then said, “It seems we have a bit of a mystery. Perhaps you can help us solve it?”
Philippe waited a moment and continued. “What we know is that one of our residents is dead of a knife wound. We found him near the beach in the small bay just west of here. A Zodiac dinghy was found on the beach. The dead man’s wife told us that a couple of Americans had brought several dinghies to the dock yesterday, and her husband had made a deal to buy them. He left his house in the evening with the money to pay for the dinghies and never returned. She reported him missing this morning. We found him only because the sergeant sent one of his men to check out the American woman’s story about a boat theft and kidnapping and her escape on the same beach where we found the dead husband. We also found four dinghies tied to the dock and none of the locals know who they belong to. The American woman claims to have no idea about the dead man but has some very interesting things to say that might be related to your search.”
Philippe nodded to the sergeant, who stood, walked to the second door and opened it. Tricia came out and was escorted to the conference room. She kept her gaze on the floor all the way. Captain Jay, Arlan and Tommy recognized her as one of Boiled Bob’s followers.
Philippe said, “I can assume that you know her?”
“We know her,” Captain Jay said. “Let’s see what she’s got to say.”
Once they were all settled around the table, Philippe asked Tricia to repeat her story. Without looking up from the table, Tricia told them the entire story, from the planning of the theft to the robbery and kidnapping. She confirmed that Lisa was alive and being held hostage by Boiled Bob, leaving out any reference to his treatment of her. She also told of the Happy Hobo’s disguise and name change. When asked about the body of the local man, she repeated that she’d taken Lisa off the boat to the nearest beach and that Boiled Bob and Maynard and a man she’d never seen had come around the point from Grand Case in a dinghy and given chase. Sh
e and Lisa made it to the beach and tried to run to the tree line. She made it and Lisa fell. That’s all she knew, except that she thought she heard the third man shout at Boiled Bob and Maynard.
When finished, Tricia looked up, crying. She apologized to Captain Jay several times for being part of Boiled Bob’s plans. Philippe had Tricia removed and taken back to the room she’d been held in.
“What are you going to do with her?” Arlan asked Philippe.
“I don’t know. I tend to believe her story, but there is no sailboat freshly painted green and white and named Pappy Bobo in the bay or anywhere else that we’ve looked on our side of the island. I’ve checked with my counterparts on the Dutch side, and they’ve found nothing either. So, we have no evidence of a crime she’s committed in our country. I’ll make a call to the USVI about the dinghies, but we have no reciprocity or extradition laws. I’ll probably let her go.”
“What about the murder? It sounds a lot like Maynard’s work,” Arlan said.
“Tell me about Maynard,” Philippe said.
Captain Jay said, “He’s an asshole Frenchie from St. Thomas.”
There was an immediate silence in the room.
“No offence, Commandant,” he added.
“None taken,” Philippe said with a smile.
Arlan and Tommy told Philippe all they knew of Maynard, and Philippe said that he’d call on his St. Thomas Frenchie friends to fill in the blanks.
Philippe said, “As of now, I have no solid leads about a boat called the Pappy Bobo. Philippe hesitated and then asked, “By the way, what is a Bobo? Is there something in your English language that I have not heard of?”
Arlan laughed and said, “The name seems to have everybody wondering.”
Captain Jay stood, pulled a hundred dollars from his wallet and handed it to Philippe. He said, “Give this to Tricia. She should be able to get to St. John with this.”
Philippe frowned and said, “That is quite generous. I would have thought that you would want her arrested. But, of course, I just told you I’m not inclined to do that.”
“She gave us enough information for me to find that bastard, Boiled Bob.”
A Fortnight of Fury Page 11
