Murder in Cuba
Page 7
The blinking light on the clock on the bottom right of the computer screen indicated that her time on the computer had expired. She stood up and stretched, wondering how Carola's meeting with Guido had gone. She walked out of the computer room and almost bumped into Carola, who had just gotten out of a taxi. “Kelly, I need to talk to you. See that couch over there?” she said, pointing at one of the many couches scattered around the large open-air lobby. “Let me pay the driver, and I'll meet you there in two minutes.”
They spent the next hour sharing with each other what they’d found out. “Carola, I think what Guido told you is certainly of interest, but while you were at the marina talking to him I was thinking that one of the actual fishing guides would have more of a motive to kill Dudley than Guido. After all, from what Guido said, his job was not going to be jeopardized if Dudley got the Bartolo contract, but his guides' jobs might be. I wonder how many guides work for him. It seems a far stretch, but I suppose any of them could be desperate enough about his job that he might kill Dudley.”
“Guido had to take a phone call while I was there and when he was on the phone I walked around the room. There were photographs of ten guides. I suppose any of them would have reason to do it, or let me really go far out here, maybe it was a joint effort by more than one of them.”
“Wow! I hadn’t thought of anything like that. Maybe they all wanted Dudley dead and they drew straws or something like that to decide who would do it. If that's true, I don't have a clue how we could get that kind of information from them.”
“Something just occurred to me,” Carola said. “If Mike is going to be helping the constable, he's not going to be able to fish until this is solved. Maybe I could take his place on the boat and start a conversation with the fishing guide. He's Cuban, so he obviously speaks Spanish. Jack's Spanish is pretty elementary, and if I spoke fast and so did the guide, I don't think Jack would be able to follow along. I could tell them I just wanted to see what fishing in the saltwater flats was like, and I only wanted to fish for half a day. Actually, I think that would be fine with Jack. He'll have the afternoon to fish exclusively with the guide, and since he's always worried he's abandoning me on these trips, it would make him feel better if he did something for me. I never want to take any of his time away from paying clients, but I think this would work well.”
“I agree. It's an excellent way to find out more about the guides. Maybe you'll get the name of one of the guides who feels particularly angry about the possibility of losing his job. Yes, let’s see what you can find out tomorrow morning when you go fishing,” Kelly said.
“I also need to see if I can get the room number for Dudley's wife, and then I’ll pay her a visit. I'll give you a call after I talk to her. What's your room number?”
“We're in 3822, but give me about an hour. I still have a couple of other people I want to check out on the Internet.”
“Will do. Good luck and wish me good luck as well,” Carola said.
Cayo had followed Kelly from the Internet room and had jumped up on her lap when she sat down. She scratched the cute calico cat behind the ears, and it purred with a sound of deep satisfaction. Kelly stroked Cayo several more times and then stood up, putting him down on the floor. He walked next to her as they returned to the computer room.
CHAPTER 14
“I'm hoping you can help me,” Carola said in Spanish to the handsome young man at the reception desk. She smiled and opened her eyes wide, so he could clearly see her long lashes and dark brown eyes, while at the same time leaning towards him, and giving him a clear view of her ample cleavage. “I understand that Dudley Samms was killed last night. My husband is a fellow fishing guide, and since I've met his wife numerous times, I would like to visit her and give her my condolences. Would you be kind enough to give me her room number? She gave it to me earlier, but I can't seem to find it.”
“We're not supposed to give out room numbers, but in this case I could probably make an exception.” He turned his attention away from Carola's chest and looked at his computer. “She's in room 2943. It’s a ground floor unit with an ocean view.”
“Thank you so much,” she said smiling broadly. “I really appreciate your sharing that with me.”
“De nada, it is nothing," the clerk said, trying unsuccessfully to keep his eyes from straying once again to her chest. She left the reception area and walked towards the rooms located in an outlying building. She paused for a moment and looked at the site map the bellman had given her when they arrived. Patricia's room was the last room in the last unit. When she approached room 2943 she thought she heard voices and looked around. She was the only one in sight.
She distinctly heard a man speaking, and the voice seemed to be coming from the room the clerk had told her was Patricia Samms’. “Patricia, Dudley's dead, and it's about time. Surely you must know how I've felt about you for many years, and although you’ve never said anything, I think you feel the same way about me. The only reason I ever went on any of Dudley’s fishing trips was to be near you. Why else would I put up with him belittling me every chance he got? I fished this morning, but I came back early to see you. Finally, it's our time.”
Carola walked to the side of the unit. Since it was the last one on the hotel grounds, there was nothing but brush and the Caribbean Sea beyond it. When she’d walked past the room, she’d noticed the door to Patricia’s room was slightly ajar. She flattened herself against the outside wall, listening intently.
“Stewart, I've dreamed of this moment for a long, long time. Since I was married to Dudley, I could never tell you how I felt about you, but yes, I agree, it's our time. Thank you for waiting for me. I suppose it was too bad he had to die, but I feel like I’ve finally been set free. I hated that man every day of my life, from the day I married him until yesterday, when he finally got what was coming to him.”
“I’m just as happy about his death as you are, my dear. It's too soon to celebrate the way I've dreamed of, but come here. Kissing you is something I've wanted to do for so many years, and now I finally can. I have no regrets about what happed to Dudley. He deserved to die.”
It was very quiet for a long time and Carola assumed that Stewart was kissing Patricia. Kelly won't believe this. Stewart and Patricia are an item, and both of them now have good reasons for wanting to see Dudley dead. I wonder if either of them could be the killer. It's too early to call Kelly on her cell phone, but I think I'll go back to my room and make a few notes, so I can tell her exactly what I heard them say.
*****
“What do you think, Cayo? Who should be next?” Kelly asked the cat after purchasing another one hour Internet access card. Cayo turned his head and looked up at her. She had an uncanny feeling the cat was reading her mind and could swear when he purred it sounded like he’d said the word “Stewart.” “Okay, Cayo. Stewart it is.”
She typed in the username and the password printed on the Internet access card and began searching for Stewart Bond. Mike had mentioned his name when he was telling her about the van ride and how Dudley had humiliated him. Since Facebook had been such a bonanza for providing information to her about Philip, she decided to start there. The photograph on Stewart Bond's page clearly showed that the man she had seen with Dudley at the rooftop restaurant in Havana was the same man whose picture she was looking at on his Facebook page.
In the information Stewart had provided on his page it said that he was the head of the private wealth division for a large international bank, an avid outdoorsman, and a bachelor. There were a number of photos of him with big game in Africa, a huge king salmon from British Columbia, and bonefish from Belize. He’d graduated with honors from Eton and had gone to law school at Harvard in the United States. When he returned to London he began working for the bank he was still with. He didn't have very many friends on Facebook, just a few hundred, which made Kelly think this was more of a personal page than a business page.
There had been no mention of a twitter account,
but even so, she tried putting in several different ways he might have used to enter his name, but she couldn’t come up with a match. She typed his name into the google search engine and spent the next half hour reading about him. Almost everything was related to his business or his being an outdoorsman. Evidently he raised Brittany hunting dogs and maintained a large kennel for them several miles outside of London. One of the articles said that his hunting dogs were considered to be some of the best in the world, consistently taking top honors in field trials.
Although there was no lack of information about his vocation and avocation, there was very little information of a personal nature. Kelly found one reference to him having attended the Queen's Ball with Lady Jane Simpson and another one regarding him attending a polo match with Dame Susan Lester. That was it, and both of those references were over ten years old. It seemed that Stewart Bond was either very discreet or had no personal life. Kelly looked at his Facebook picture again, refreshing her memory of him.
I remember thinking he was attractive when I saw him in Havana. He reminded me a bit of Mike, big and burly. He was greying at the temples and was quite tan, probably from all of this outdoor hunting and fishing which seems to be his passion. Looking at his picture again, I still think he's very attractive, and I find it very hard to believe he wouldn't have romantic interests. Wish I knew how I could find out about that. While Facebook is very good about letting people know what the individual being looked up wants people to know, it sure doesn't help with information they may not want to share. I'm sure Mike will have someone look into his background. Maybe he can get the type of information I can't seem to get.
Kelly’s attention was drawn to the clock on the bottom of the screen that had begun to flash indicating she had only a few more minutes left before her allotted time expired. She logged off, looked at Cayo and said, “Okay, little guy. Time to go to the room and wait for Carola's call, but I don't feel this last hour was very productive. Let's go.” She moved her chair away from the computer, and she and Cayo walked out of the computer room and headed for her room.
CHAPTER 15
Kelly started to put her key card into the lock when she noticed that the door wasn’t completely shut, and the lock hadn't engaged. She felt her heart race as she called out, “Hello? Is anyone there? Mike, are you there?” No one answered. She stood to the side and pushed the door open with her foot. Cayo walked into the room and looked back at her as if to say, “Come on, scaredy cat. There's no one here but you and me. All's safe.”
She followed Cayo into the room and looked in the bathroom and in the main room. No one was there. Maybe there’s a problem with the locks not fully engaging. I’ve noticed a few other doors that seemed to be slightly ajar. That would explain it. I think I’m getting spooked with everything that's happened. Calm down, Kelly, she told herself. I’ve done this before. I can help Mike find out who murdered Dudley even though he probably wouldn't approve of what I've been doing this afternoon. Oh well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him.
She’d just closed and locked the door when the phone in the room rang. “Hi, Carola. What did you find out?” She listened for a few minutes and then said, “Well, that probably explains why I couldn't find out anything about Stewart's personal life. He's been waiting for Patricia all these years, and from what you just told me, it sounds like she's been waiting for him as well. That really makes my crime solving antenna start to wiggle.”
“You’re right, Kelly, and while I'm new to this detective game which you’re so good at, it sure seems to me like either one of them or even both of them could be considered suspects. Killing someone because of a romantic interest is the stuff that books, movies, and television are made of. You know a lot more about this than I do. What do you think?”
“I have no idea. I'll google Patricia tomorrow and see if I can find out anything about her. What's on your schedule now?”
“I’ve got to go, Kelly. Jack just walked in with a big smile on his face. Must have been good fishing this afternoon. Why don't we meet you in the restaurant at 7:00 for dinner? Maybe Mike will be back by then, and he can join us, but if not, we'll see you then.”
Kelly hung up the phone and went into the bathroom, intending to take a cool shower. It didn't take long in this heat and humidity to become wringing wet. She’d just turned the shower on when the phone rang. She turned the shower off and walked back into the bedroom.
“Hello.” She listened to the voice on the other end. “Hi, Mike, how was your afternoon?”
“Long. The constable is a very nice man, but he doesn't know a thing about investigating a case like this. I've been on the computer most of the afternoon as well as on the phone with my deputies back home and some other law enforcement personnel I know trying to get information about the people I consider to be suspects. It's been rough slogging because this computer is very slow, but I guess that's the trade-off for being in a beautiful, remote area. The only thing I learned with any certainty is that Philip was once accused of murder, but the case was dropped. He's recently separated from his wife, and no one is quite sure where he's getting the money to live the lifestyle he leads.
“I had his new home in the Florida Keys checked out, and it looks like the guy is made of money. The thing is beautiful. It's right on the water, and according to the county records, he paid three and a half million for it. Not bad for a guy who's unemployed and hoping to make a name for himself as a fishing guide. Doesn't quite add up in my book. We're trying to find the source of where he's getting his money. Anyway, I'm going to spend a couple more hours here, so go ahead and eat dinner without me.”
“Carola just called and asked me to dinner. I’ll join them. Anything pro or con about Jack?”
“No. I let the constable search Jack’s background, because I'm too close to him to be non-judgmental. Fortunately, in the preliminary check the constable thought he had one of the cleanest records he'd ever seen. The only black mark against him is he went for a swim in the ocean at or about the same time that Dudley did, and Dudley later turned up dead. That's a coincidence, and you know what I think about coincidences, but in this case I think it’s a legitimate coincidence.”
“I do know what you think about coincidences, but sometimes they are simply that, coincidences, and this may be one of those times. I'm off to take a shower. I hope it's air-conditioned where you are, because this heat and humidity is brutal. I'm thoroughly enjoying this island and being here, but I wouldn’t want to live in the Caribbean because of the weather.”
“Don't think that's anything you need to worry about. The only way we'll be leaving our home in Cedar Bay is feet first. See you later.”
Showered and cooled, Kelly locked the door, double-checked it to make sure it had closed securely and walked down the curving path to the restaurant, Cayo walking beside her. She paused for a moment on her way, looking at the aqua blue color of the Caribbean and the flames of pink and blue in the sky as day turned to night. Although it seemed to be the epitome of a place for romance, like so many things, scratch the surface and the ugly appears. In this case the ugly came in the form of murder.
CHAPTER 16
When Kelly walked into the restaurant, she immediately saw Carola waving at her. She and Jack were sitting at one of the tables that had a direct line of view from the open front reception area to the ocean. She sat down and said, “So, Jack, how was your second day on the water? What zone were you in today?”
“Zone three, and it was amazing. It's going to be hard to fish anywhere else after fishing here at Cayo Largo. I lost track of the number of fish I caught. Here are a couple of pictures my guide took of me and the fish.” He showed her several picture of him holding various different fish.
“Good for you. I'm sure Mike's going to be envious when he sees these. Too bad he can't do what he thought he’d be doing when he came here, but solving a murder usually takes precedence in his world.”
“Speaking of Mike,” Jack said, “have you
heard from him today?”
“Yes, he called a few minutes ago and told me he would be spending a couple more hours with the constable. He said for me to go ahead and join you for dinner, and he’d get something later.”
“Have they discovered anything yet? I had no idea what was going on when Guido came out in the boat and got him. Carola told me that the coroner determined that Dudley's death was not accidental.”
“She knows as much as I do. I imagine Mike might be able to tell us a bit more when he gets here, but I have no idea when that might be. He did tell me that Philip, the guy from the Florida Keys, just bought a home for three and a half million, and since he's between careers or jobs, no one can figure out where he’s getting that kind of money. He also recently separated from his wife who now lives in Connecticut. Prior to moving to Florida he worked for his parents’ family business as the manager of several boutique hotels in Australia that his parents own. Mike’s having his people try and find out some additional financial information about him.”
“Did Mike say anything about me? Am I still considered a suspect?" Jack asked with a tone of concern in his voice.
“I don't know. I think everyone who might have had any type of connection to Dudley will be considered a suspect, so I assume that would include you. Mike did say he told the constable he wanted him to do the background search on you, because he didn't want there to be any hint of a conflict of interest when it came to you because of your relationship with Mike.”
“I can appreciate that, but I guarantee you that they won't find anything. I've probably led about as clean a life as anyone can. I've never even gotten a traffic ticket.”
“Wish I could say that," Carola said, laughing, I’ve gotten three or four traffic tickets, and the only thing that's kept me from getting a couple more is smiling at the policeman and batting my eyelashes. For some reason they're suckers for big brown eyes, dark skin, and women who bat their eyelashes at them.”