Murder on the Front Nine

by Steve McMillen

  Chapter 9: Mickke D

  Since I didn’t receive photos of my suspects from SIL, I opt to give my neighbor a call to see if the Bureau has any pictures of these guys. I call Jimmy Sunday night and ask him if he has a few minutes to spare. He says to come on over, the front door is open. I start by telling him about my weekend, from the chopper to the explosion.

  He just keeps saying, “You’re kidding, you have to be kidding me. Wow, that’s exciting.”

  He says he thought he heard an explosion while he was on the golf course Sunday morning but he wasn’t sure. I ask him if he can check with the Bureau to see if they have any pictures of my suspects. He says he will see what he can dig up on them. I also tell him I may need his help at some point in time but that it may be dangerous. He smiles, rubs his hands together and tells me no problem. I can call him any time. I think Jimmy is playing way too much golf and is looking for something else to do on the side. I think he misses police work. Personally, I never thought playing golf every day would be boring. I could just never afford to do it. I leave him a copy of the suspect list and ask him to get back to me when he has something.

  I go home and begin to put together my plan of action for the upcoming World Am. I need to be ready when the bell rings. The first thing I need is someone on the inside at The World Am, someone who can get me inside information when and if I need it. I opt to call in a favor from an old golf student of mine, Bob McClellan.

  Bob is a retired journalist with the local newspaper who still writes a weekly column for the paper. He has covered the World Am for the last ten years. He is on the advisory board and works with handicap adjustments.

  I used to enjoy Bob’s daily column when I first moved to Myrtle Beach and after reading about his not so great golf game, I tried for years to get him to allow me to help him with his game. I guess it was an act of desperation (his game was in the toilet) on his part, but he finally called me to set up a lesson. I offered to give him free lessons, but he said he would only agree if he could pay me. We finally compromised by me agreeing to be paid only if he thought the lessons improved his game. I did help his game (of course) and then he asked me what he owed me. I told him that he owed me a favor and that someday I will call and want paid (almost sounds like an old TV show, doesn’t it). Although I did not receive payment at the time, Bob has sent me several students who have paid, so it worked out great. Bob will be receiving a call from me real soon.

  I also need a weapon, not just my .45, which will be very hard to hide, even though it will knock a man down just by hitting him in the finger. I should also go to a shooting range and practice. I haven’t fired my .45 in years. I look through my war closet footlocker and find a .25-caliber revolver complete with an ankle holster. This will work great with long pants, but at the beach in the middle of summer, not very kosher. I also dig out my Army Jag Investigator License and stick it in my wallet. A quick flash and no one will question my authority to ask questions and gather information.

  I receive a call from Jimmy on Tuesday morning. He tells me he has some photos for me, sent by over night courier. I wish the rest of the mail in and out of Myrtle Beach moved that quickly.

  I go directly over to his house and open the envelope sent to him by the Bureau. Of the six possible suspects, he has received four photos, the police, the farmer, the sign man, and Stan the man. The police of course had to have his photo taken because he was in law enforcement, the farmer was in the Army and Stan the man was in the Navy, so photos were available of them. There was a mug shot of the sign man. The police arrested him. However, they never brought him to trial. The Bureau could not find any pictures of the other two. So at least I know what four of my suspects look like unless they are wearing a disguise.

  I thank Jimmy for his help and go back to the house where I make my phone call to my former golf student and hopefully my inside person at the World Am.

  Bob answers the phone and once he learns who is calling says, “Mickke D, I suppose someone told you my game was back in the tank again.”

  “No, not really Bob,” I answer and laugh, “I’m calling to tell you I need to collect that favor you owe me. I’ll bet you never thought I would try to collect, did you?”

  He replies, “Oh, I’m glad you called. Now I can get together with you for another lesson and not feel bad because you won’t accept payment. What kind of a favor can I do for you?”

  I tell him I need information on a few of the players who will be playing in the upcoming World Am this year. He conveys to me that this will not be a problem. I tell Bob I will e-mail him the names and information I need. Before he can ask why I need the information, I lie and tell him I have had a request to check on some guys when they get in town. They may be possible golf students or real estate clients. I think it will be safer for Bob if he knows as little as possible.

  Chapter 10: The Search

  (Earlier)

  TC feels bad about what he did in the restaurant. Is he so hung up on finding a treasure buried at sea that he would try to screw an old man out of his coins? Probably not. However, the longer he thinks about the old coins the more those negative thoughts begin to mellow. He does commit to one thing, if he finds something; he will see to it that Rusty is compensated.

  He has the information he needs from Rusty; where he found the coins. He now needs to take the boat out and run sweeps in the area where he thinks the wreck may be, if there really is a wreck. Moreover, even if there is a wreck, are there any coins left or has someone already made the discovery, confiscated the treasure and the only thing left is the old wreck and the four coins Rusty found on the beach?

  Since Trever is busy and not available, he calls a friend of his, Freddy Rioz, to help him on the boat. He met Freddy at a local restaurant, River City Café, in Murrells Inlet where he was waiting tables. He had taken a liking to him right away. Freddy is in his mid-thirties and just one of those nice guys. He is tall, dark, and handsome and has a great accent. He learned that Freddy was born in Chile but moved to the beach from Upper Michigan. He is a great artist and is very good with anything made of glass. However, his real love is the sea and he moved to the beach to try to find a way to get his own fishing boat and because it was too damn cold in Upper Michigan. He is a certified diver and TC pays him to help when Trever is busy.

  The day he picks to go is a lousy day on the water to dive, so he lets Freddy know that they will just do some sweeps and if they find anything, they will come back on a better dive day to see what they may have found.

  This is fine with Freddy because he receives a hundred dollars a day whether he dives or not. He is great with boats; it is like driving a car for him. He just has the knack for it. He also has another nice skill. He is a great cook. TC will give him money to buy groceries and he will show up with a cooler full of food, beer and sodas. Even if they do not find anything, they always eat and drink well.

  They leave the dock in Murrells Inlet around 7:30am. It is an overcast day along the Carolina coast. The temperature is 68 degrees, the sky is cloudy and the wind is coming out of the southwest at around 15 to 20 knots.

  Murrells Inlet was a haven for pirates back in the early days of the Americas. Pirates like Blackbeard and others would bring their ships into the many coves around Murrells Inlet and hide from the British or they would use the coves as a launching point to attack an unsuspecting ship laden with treasure traveling up or down the coast.

  It is written and rumored that chests filled with treasure abound in this area but no proof of that exists. However, since they do not dig basements here, because of the sandy soil and the fact that the water table is so high, you could actually build a house or a condo building right on top of buried treasure and never know it. This is good because this means that there is probably a better chance of finding treasure in the ocean on an old shipwreck than buried in the ground on land. This is all the better for TC and Freddy.

  Freddy has his cooler full of food and drinks for their da
y trip, but he will keep the contents a surprise until the time comes to have lunch. TC hands over the controls of his boat to Freddy as soon as they leave the dock in Murrells Inlet. He tells Freddy to head south, that he wants to check out an area around Pawleys Island. He has chosen not to tell Freddy about the coins until he checks with Trever. That is another reason they are not going to dive today.

  TC has his CRS (Close Radar Sonar) ready to go. The CRS is great at picking up small or large areas of metals hidden under the sand. It will penetrate almost ten feet of sand. These areas may contain coins, jewelry, metal bowls, cannons, cannon balls, other weapons, nails, and even barrel hoops. Once you locate an area, you dive to see what you may have found.

  TC will need to find his search area by line of sight. He has a good idea of where the barge was digging sand to spread on the beach but it is also a guessing game in a very big ocean. However, there is no rush; they are not on a timetable to find treasure. One thing he has learned since moving to South Carolina, everything is slower here and that is not all bad. Actually, he is enjoying his new, unhurried way of life.

  He has Freddy go about a half mile from shore at a place which looks like where the barge may have been working. He probably should sight the location from shore because that is where he had seen the barge. Things always look different from the shore rather than looking from the boat toward the shore.

  They begin their sweeps around 9:00. If they pick up an echo, they will note the location and then they will retrace their route from another direction and see if they pick up the echo again. If they get the echo again, TC will plot the location on his map and return at another time to dive and investigate.

  By noon, they completed multiple sweeps, burned a lot of gas, drank a few sodas, but didn’t hear the first ping. They elect to anchor and have a bite to eat. Lunch turns out to be a Ruben sandwich, a dill pickle, chips, and a cold beer. Freddy pulls out a mint chocolate cheesecake from the bottom of the cooler, probably made by him, for dessert. What a feast. They soon forget about their lack of pings.

  Their bellies are full so they opt to fish for a while before starting another sweep. They both cast their rods and lures into the blue Atlantic and of course, Freddy has to say his fishing prayer. “Dear Lord, will the fishy, fishy in the brook, come and jump on Freddy’s hook.”

  The sad part about it is that Freddy always catches fish. TC thinks what’s wrong with this picture? The next time he goes fishing without Freddy, he is going to try the same prayer, just change the name to protect the innocent.

  They continue fishing for about an hour and of course, Freddy catches a fish, a medium-size yellow fin tuna. His catch will be dinner tonight at the River City Café. The owner always allows Freddy to fix his catch of the day for employees and friends. TC can hardly wait. There is never a dull moment at the beach.

  The afternoon sweeps go much better. They find an area which seems to have a lot of activity somewhere close to where TC saw the barge digging sand. He plots and draws a crude map. They proceed back to Murrells Inlet with a cold beer in hand. TC mails the map to Trever Byers the following morning. The die has been cast.

  Chapter 11: Barry & Dean

  The trip back to Culpepper from Myrtle Beach is very quiet. The chopper is noisy but the conversation on board is null and void. Neither Barry nor Bill say much of anything the entire trip, mainly because the pilot of the destroyed plane has hitched a ride back with them and he is pretty shaken up. If he had not received that phone call, he would have been on the plane when it exploded. He still has no idea who made the call.

  Once they arrive in Culpepper, they pick up the company Jeep at the airport and drive the four miles to the office. Barry tells Rob to take some time off and chill out. He will call him later in the week.

  Once inside his office, Barry checks his e-mails and opens the mail on his desk while Bill just sits and stares.

  Finally, Bill says, “Ted was the only one of us who did not want to go after the assassin and yet he is the one who died.”

  Barry replies, “I know, but we can’t think about what might have been. The question now is what do we do? The plane is insured and will be replaced but how do we deal with Ted’s death?”

  There are several minutes of silence and then Bill says, “I don’t think we should make any decisions at this point in time. We should go home, get a good night’s sleep, and make plans tomorrow.”

  “You’re right, let’s get together tomorrow and discuss our options. I’ll call Ted’s family in Florida and give them the bad news. After that, I’m out of here.”

  “Do you want me to stick around while you make the call?” Bill asks with a very somber sigh.

  “No, you go ahead. I’ll see you in the morning and by the way, be careful; we may be next on his list.”

  Bill leaves and as Barry sits at his desk contemplating the phone call he needs to make, he thinks back to the events that got them into this mess.

  Barry answered the phone. The call was from Dean Rutland, chief aide to Senator R. Gene Brazile of North Carolina. SIL had done some small jobs for Dean in the past. He lived just outside Culpepper and he said he wanted to meet Barry about a very private matter. Barry figured this had to be big if Dean did not want to discuss it on the phone. They agreed on a 12:00 lunch meeting for the next day at a local park in Culpepper. Dean said he would provide lunch.

  Barry and Dean both arrived at about the same time and sat down on a secluded bench near the entrance. Dean Rutland was in his early forties. He was divorced, tall with a muscular build and had a head full of dark, wavy hair. In Washington circles, he was referred to as a ladies man. He had brought roast beef sandwiches and Diet Pepsis for lunch.

  Barry complimented Dean on the menu then asked, “Why all the secrecy, Dean?”

  Dean finished swallowing what he had in his mouth and then answered, “Barry, I have a job for you if you want it, but don’t feel obligated to answer today.”

  “That sounds fair, what is the job?”

  “I need someone eliminated,” Dean said in a very subdued voice.

  Barry’s eyes widened. “You want what?” he said in a very loud voice.

  They both looked around to see if anyone had heard the uplifted reply from Barry.

  No one seemed to notice or they just didn’t care so Barry continued. “Are you out of your freaking mind? SIL does not do assassinations and what would make you think we did?”

  Dean quickly replied in a whispered tone of voice, “Barry, you don’t have to do the job yourself but I figure you may know someone who can.”

  Barry stared at Dean for a minute and then said, “Well, just for the sake of conversation, what are you talking about?”

  Dean continued, “I need a person eliminated and I’m willing to provide one hundred thousand dollars for the completion of the project, fifty up front and the other fifty when the job is done. I don’t care where you do it or how you do it, as long as it happens soon.”

  They finished their lunch without speaking but Barry’s mind is doing several calculations. Finally, he broke the silence, “I’ll get back to you.”

  When Barry returned from his meeting, he called Bill and Ted into his office and told them about his lunch with Dean. Neither of them said anything; then finally Barry asked, “Well, tell me what you think, but before you do let me say two things. One, I don’t expect any one of us to assassinate anyone and two, right now we can use some cash flow.”

  Bill replied, “You’re right on both things but if we don’t do it, who will?”

  Ted decided to chime in, “Hey guys, we have done a lot of low things but I do not see us as hired assassins, do you?”

  “Of course not,” Barry said, “but I may know of a way to get this done and still have us end up with some cash flow. Let me make a call and see what I can find out.”

  As soon as Bill and Ted left the office, Barry called a friend of his, an ex-CIA agent, Glenn Griffin. He had been able to help Barry on a coupl
e of other deals. Griff was now operating on his own and seemed to know where to go and who to see about anything and everything.

  “Griff, if I needed a hit man, where would I go?”

  Glenn replied, “Why don’t you beat around the bush a little bit and tell me what you really want Barry?”

  “Oh no, it’s not for me. I need the information for a report I’m doing for a client.”

  “Yeah right. Well if I were looking for a person to fulfill a contract, here’s what I would do.”

  Barry interrupted, “Can you e-mail me the information?”

  “I don’t think so. Do you want an electronic trail out there somewhere even if it is just information for a client?”

  “You’re right. Tell me what I should do but first let me grab a pen.”

  “First of all, I would take out a classified ad in the following cities under Sales Position: Las Vegas, Atlanta, Denver, New Orleans, Chicago, LA, New York and Dallas. Sales position open, no benefits, post resume. Wait three days and then get a copy of each paper and read the Classified under Jobs Wanted. If you see Resume Ready for Sales Position, then just follow the instructions. Oh by the way, don’t screw up. You will need a referral.”

  “Thanks Griff, I owe you one.”

  “Don’t thank me yet; remember these people play for keeps.”

  Barry did as he was instructed and three days later, in each of the papers, he found: Resume ready, e-mail salary and location to www.chat-roominfo@infocape.com. Barry, being a computer whiz kid, decided to check out the web site and discovered that each of the cities on his list was connected to that web site. He could not trace the site back to a specific city or location. This person was good. He sent the following information to the web site: 50k in Carolinas. Three days later, he received an e-mail from the assassin asking for a description, the exact location of the contract and a referral name.

  Before he went any further, he got back to Bill and Ted. He did not give them details, just that everything was in place. They both agreed that as long as they did not have to do the killing, they would go along with the plan.