TC just sits in the restaurant after the chief and Justin leave. He tries to figure out what is going on and if he could be in any danger. Did the killer know that he had sent the map to Trever and that he had the original? In addition, he is still not sure why he lied to Chief Vette.
On the drive back to Pawleys Island, he is much more observant of his surroundings than he was on the drive up to Southport this morning. He is constantly watching for anyone who he thinks is watching him. He is also thinking about how he first learned about the possible shipwreck.
He had been walking on the beach at Pawleys Island and afterward he stopped to have a cup of coffee at his favorite little restaurant along the beach, Nibils, which was located at the end of the fishing pier. The restaurant is full as an older gentleman walks in, looks around and sees there are no empty seats. As he starts to leave, TC tells him he can share his table. The old man sits down and they begin to talk.
As the old man takes his seat across from him, he judges the man to be in his mid-seventies and he looks as if he is in good health. The man tells him he has been walking on the beach with his metal detector and has come in for a cup of coffee. He thanks TC for allowing him to share his table.
TC asks him if he had any luck and the old man replies, “Well I’m not really sure. I found some strange coins on the beach but I have no idea what they are.”
This, of course, gets TC’s attention. He says, “I’ve done some metal detecting myself over the years. Do you have them with you?”
“Oh yeah, I’ve got them right here in my pocket, let me show you.”
The old man smiles and takes out a folded Kleenex and lays it on the table. He carefully unfolds the Kleenex and shows him the four coins.
TC can hardly hold back a grin from ear to ear. The man has found two 1600s Atocha Silver Eight Grade coins worth about 4,000 dollars each and two very rare 1715 Fleet Gold Escudo with Fisher Certificate worth around 13,000 dollars each. This old man has just found four coins worth around 35,000 thousand dollars walking on the beach with a fifty-dollar metal detector. He and Trever have not found that much in the last two years out in the ocean with a 750,000 dollar boat filled with thousands of dollars of equipment. Go figure!
He has to make a decision. Should he tell the old man what the coins are worth or take another path? The salvage junkie, treasure-hunting demon inside him wins the battle and he decides on the other path, at least for the time being.
He says to the old man, “Where did you find them, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Oh, not at all, do you know where they were doing the beach renourishment last week? I found them right there and I searched all around the area for more but I came up with nothing.”
This gives TC exactly what he is looking for, an area to search with the boat. He is guessing that the barge digging up sand in the ocean had picked them up from an old wreck and sprayed them on the beach with the new sand.
He gets back to the old man, “Do you have a computer at home?”
The old man laughs and says, “Nope, wouldn’t know what to do with it if I did.”
“Would you like me to look your coins up on my computer and let you know what they are worth?”
The old man’s eyes get big and he gives TC a toothy grin, “You mean they could be worth something? I’ve found a few rings and regular coins before but shoot they weren’t worth much.”
“I can’t promise you they are worth anything but you just don’t know,” he replies, “let me make some drawings of the coins and I’ll see what I can find out for you. Write your phone number on the back of my card and I’ll call you when I find out something.”
The old man looks at the card and then looks back at him. He says, “Mr. Cadium, my name is Rusty and why don’t you just take the coins with you. I trust you. You’re a federal judge and an attorney.”
He can’t believe his ears, someone actually trusts an attorney.
He thinks for a minute and then says, “Rusty, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll take two of the coins and give you a receipt for them.”
“Sounds fair to me,” Rusty replies.
He takes one of each of the different coins. He writes and signs a receipt for Rusty on the back of one of his cards and gives him that card along with another unblemished card. Rusty puts the other two coins back in the Kleenex and into his pocket. He thanks TC again and leaves the restaurant.
TC just sits there and stares. He is thinking to himself, I can’t believe I just did that. Unreal.
Chapter 7: The Failed Attack
(Earlier)
As the assassin leaves the park, he is not a happy camper. He heard three voices on his listening device setting up an ambush and he spotted two of them. Who do these people think they are? He did not try to cheat them, he did the job he contracted to do and now they’re trying to kill him.
He decides his clients are either wacky or the hand-drawn crude map he has in the brown paper bag is worth a lot more than the 25,000 dollars they owe him. Why not just pay him and take the map? He thinks there is probably more to this than just the map. This could become a very expensive screw-up for them. Maybe he will just sell the map to the highest bidder.
Barry, Bill and Ted are also not happy. They did not take the assassin serious enough. Their plan was flawed. They must have made mistakes. Either he did not show up or he spotted them. Twenty-five thousand dollars is a lot of money to leave on the table. Several things are very clear: They do not have the map, the assassin is not dead, and one of the only links back to them is still alive.
They are now afraid that he knows more about them than they know about him. Somehow, they need to determine who he is, find him, get the map, and eliminate him, the sooner the better. The biggest problem they are going to have is that he will probably put the map in a safe place and even if they do find him and kill him, they may not get the map. So now the questions are: Where is the map, how many maps are there, who might have another copy of the map, and the big question - who drew the map?
Barry found out about the map from a low-grade operative who knew they were into old shipwrecks and sunken treasure. For a small nominal fee of five hundred dollars, he told them about an old man in Pawleys Island who was bragging about finding some rare old coins along the beach. The old man said a friend of his had a map and knew where to search for the treasure. Before the operative could find the old man and ask politely for his friends name, the old man was killed by a hit and run driver while crossing the street in Murrells Inlet.
Of course, the part about the map was false. Rusty had made that up. However, while Barry was doing his research on Trever Byers, he discovered he spent a lot of time in Pawleys Island. Maybe he knew the old man. Trever’s hobby was salvage work with Judge Cadium; maybe they both knew the old man.
When Barry made his contract with the assassin, he asked him, if possible, to search for a map. That way he could have Trever Byers killed and possibly end up with a treasure map. He was thrilled and considered himself lucky when the assassin called and said he had the scorecard.
Chapter 8: The Suspects
We roll out of bed around 6:00am Sunday morning. The fellows enjoyed The Shack so we go back there for breakfast. As a precaution, I talk them into leaving their weapons in their bags, at the house, while we eat.
We get a table out on the enclosed porch and after we order, Barry says, “Well buddy boy before I ask you what your decision is, I want to add a little icing to the cake. If you find this guy for us, there will be a five thousand dollar bonus in it for you. So have you made your mind up yet?”
I was thinking about the offer all night and I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. The pay seems fair enough, especially now with the bonus at the end. If I take the job, I believe I will find the killer if he shows up at the World Am. What do I have to lose? I’ll get a chance to see if my old investigative skills come back to me. Probably like riding a bike. My biggest problem will be keeping the inside dem
ons away. Sometimes ghosts are better left alone. I sucked a deep breath and steeled my nerves. I also fought a spasm of panic. I decided I really needed to do this.
I look at Barry and give him my answer, “Gentlemen, I will take the job but I do have some questions. First of all, who are my suspects, how do I get in touch with you, and how much support can I expect from you?”
Barry looks at Ted and says, “Let me have the suspect list.”
Ted pulls a folded sheet of paper from his sport coat and hands it to Barry.
Barry takes the paper and hands it to me. “Here you are my man, six very possible killers and whatever background information we could find on them.”
The Suspect List
Ken (the player) Bellinger—hometown Richmond, Virginia—Age 42—Army brat—traveled all over the world before settling down in Vegas—loves golf and gambling—always looking for a game—has bet $1000 on which way the tee would go on the tee box—usually wins—works part-time as a financial advisor but everyone thinks he is a bookie
Dave (the police) Prendels—hometown Lexington, Kentucky—Age 46—former city police officer—resigned after being accused of taking bribes from call girls and bookies, never indicted—loves to gamble—plays golf and bowls for money—always in a pot game somewhere—spends most of his time in Florida and Vegas—works part-time as a security officer
Andy (the farmer) Bottier—hometown Saugatuck, Michigan—Age 42—grew up on a farm with dairy cows and blueberries—spent ten years in the Army as a Gunnery Sergeant—went home to farm but gambling got the best of him and he lost the farm—loves golf—will wager something on every hole—spends most of his time in Vegas and Florida selling timeshares
Paul (the mechanic) Hills—hometown Canton, Ohio—Age 50—can fix anything—always tinkering with his golf clubs and sometimes with his opponents—once changed the lie of his opponents wedge and five iron—won the match—spends time in South Carolina, Florida and Vegas—loves to gamble—usually does well
Steve (the signman) Griggs—hometown Phoenix, Arizona—Age 40—loves golf—big gambler on basketball—was a college referee but was fired for possibly fixing games—never proven and never indicted—travels all over the country for skins games and Calcutta’s—works as a part time sales consultant for a major sign company in Vegas
Stan (the man) Hutchinson—hometown Orange County, California—age 43—spent six years in the Navy—Navy Seal—after the Navy got a degree in Nuclear Engineering—was vice-president of Nuclear Parts Company but resigned because he was accused of allegedly selling nuclear information and parts to North Korea and Iran—the investigation was dropped by the Justice Department because two of the main witnesses would not testify—dropped out of Corporate America and became a golf bum—will travel anywhere for a golf game—has his own, one person, Computer Sales & Service Company located in Vegas—does websites and troubleshooting (This guy is our main suspect but we have been unable to find him)
Note: None of the above work full time, they are always on the move. We believe all of them were within 100 miles of Bald Head Island on the day of the shooting. In addition, they were all in the general vicinity of three other previous murder/assassinations.
I study the list of suspects for a few minutes and notice one thing they all have in common besides being golf junkies. They all spend time in Vegas. I say to Barry, “I’m guessing you missed catching the guy in Vegas?”
Barry laughs and says to Bill and Ted, “I told you he would figure that out right away, you both owe me fifty. Good catch Mickke D, so do you know who did the deed?”
“The butler did it, in the study, with a wrench,” I say loudly and they all laugh.
Barry gives me his personal cell phone number along with Bill’s and Ted’s. He tells me they will all be available 24/7 and that their Intel Support Team will be available.
We finish our breakfast and stop by the house to pick up their clubs and bags. We arrive at the airport about 7:30 and I don’t see a chopper on the tarmac. I do see a twin engine Gulfstream ready and waiting. I ask Barry where the chopper is and he tells me they sent the company plane to pick them up.
Barry asks Ted to go out to the plane to see when the pilot will be ready to leave. We sit down in the little waiting area and get a cup of coffee out of the vending machine. We watch as Ted enters the plane and then in the blink of an eye, all hell breaks loose.
A huge explosion sends a ball of fire one hundred feet into the air. SIL has just lost their plane and I no longer need Ted’s cell phone number. There is no way he could have survived the explosion.
The concussion of the explosion rocks the building and shatters all of the windows in our small waiting area. We are thrown to the floor like rag dolls. The heat from the blast feels like a 100-degree day on the beach with no wind or ocean breeze. We hear parts of the plane hitting the metal roof above us. Within a couple of seconds, the sounds on the roof and the heat are gone. The only sound we hear is that of a roaring fire. We try to get up but are not very successful. Bill receives a cut on the forehead from flying glass but Barry and I remain intact.
Finally, we are able to get our bearings and slowly venture out toward where the plane had been. The searing heat from the burning plane keeps us almost fifty yards away. It was just serviced and full of aviation fuel. We can’t do anything but just watch it burn. We hear a voice yelling at us from the direction of one of the maintenance buildings. It is the pilot of Barry’s plane, Rob Logan, and he is running in our direction.
“What the hell happened?” he exclaimed, “Are you guys alright?”
Rob is a tall, thin man who looks more like a basketball player than a pilot. However, he must be good if he is flying for SIL.
Barry answers, “Why were you over there and not on the plane?”
“I got a call on my radio saying I was needed in Building C for some pre-flight weather information,” he replies and then asks, “Where is Ted?”
There is silence and finally Bill says, “He just stepped into the plane when the explosion occurred, I’m pretty sure he’s gone.”
Barry looks at Rob, “Who did you see in Building C?”
“That’s the strange part, there was no one there. The building was empty. I was looking for someone when I heard the explosion.”
After talking with the pilot, Barry determines this was a personal attack on SIL. It has to be the assassin. He takes the pilot out of harm’s way and then destroys the plane along with Ted.
He walks away and makes a call on his cell phone. He comes back and tells us the chopper will be here to pick them up in about two hours. They will return to get Ted’s remains later. Bill comments that Ted’s choice of burial was cremation. He got his wish.
After Barry tells me the chopper is coming to get them, I walk over to the Trailblazer, which is still warm from the blast, and get my camera. At least there was no damage to my SUV. I figure this is not an accident so I take some quick pictures of the people standing around gawking at the burning debris of the plane. Sometimes bad guys like to admire their work from up close and personal.
The police, fire trucks and EMS trucks are pulling into the tarmac area. Barry and Bill meet with the police for about thirty minutes and then come out to where I am standing. Barry tells me he has told the police it was probably a mechanical problem, which caused the explosion, but he does not think they believe him. I wonder why? Barry also tells me not to be alarmed, that if it was a hit, they were the targets and not me. Now that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
My time with the police also lasts about thirty minutes. They ask me a lot of questions. I tell them what I saw but I do not tell them what I think happened. The chopper arrives about one hour later. Barry and Bill are ready to depart back to Virginia. The Coroner’s Office tells Barry they will contact him about picking up Ted’s remains.
Before he leaves, Barry says, “Mickke D., I hope you can help us find this guy. Keep us advised, keep your head down, and w
atch your back.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything. I’m real sorry about Ted. He was a good man.”
Barry and Bill just shake their heads and proceed to the chopper. I stay around until they are on board and on their way just in case something else tragic happens. They get away with no problems.
There are newspaper cars, TV cars, police cars, fire trucks and lots of people milling around but I feel like someone is watching me. I can’t wait to get my pictures developed and see if anyone looks guilty. On the way home, I stop at a local drugstore to have the photos developed.
After I have the pictures and am on my way home, I begin thinking about the weekend with my old Army buddies. First, they land a helicopter in my back yard on the golf course. They beat up a couple of bozos at my favorite eating place and now their plane is blown up and Ted gets his cremation wish much sooner than he had expected. They come back into my life after all of these years and I have to watch one of them die.
So much for a nice quiet weekend, I think to myself. In addition, what makes this whole thing even worse: I have agreed to try to find a cold-blooded killer for them. That was probably not too smart on my part. Those demons inside me are beginning to churn and just aching to be turned loose.
The assassin is smiling. He is across the street from the airport standing with a group of onlookers. He had made entry to the plane disguised as a maintenance worker and planted the explosives. Small airports have very lax security. He had no beef with the pilot, so he made a call to get him off the plane. His plan was to just blow up and destroy the plane. He did not see Ted enter the plane until it was too late. He had already dialed the number of the detonator cell phone. Oh well, collateral damage happens sometimes. He bets now they wish they had just left the money, picked up the map, and gone on their merry way.
Murder on the Front Nine Page 4
