The Deadly Ackee
Page 22
“Dear old Magsy is such a good sport,” Trey said, smirking. “Promise her oodles of booze and a round of hanky-panky, and she’d think it was a stitch and a half.”
“She may have found it amusing at first,” Theo said. “But after twelve hours of solitude and idleness, she was apt to grow bored with the game. Sandy was worried that she might back out of the scheme, and he couldn’t let that happen. With a fortune dangling within reach, he was determined to continue—with or without her compliance. He needed to get to the marina without incurring suspicion, so he coerced Biff into a game of golf and then encouraged him to go sulk at a hotel bar. Those unencumbered hours resulted in a quick visit to the yacht, a needleful of sedative, and a once again cooperative co-conspirator.”
“Until I figured out where she was hiding,” Dorrie pointed out modestly. “Poor Sandy must have thought he had everything under control, but I intuitively put the pieces of the puzzle together and insisted we go to the yacht. He had no choice—either he took us, or Uncle Theo would telephone the police and they would go. He even tried to hurry us past the storeroom door by belittling my intellectual abilities. Despite everyone’s lack of faith in me, I persuaded Uncle Theo to unlock the door. Voilà. Mary Margaret, unconscious but alive.”
Theo managed not to wince during the narrative. “Where did you locate the sedative?”
“Eli had a few downers for sale, and I bought the needle at a drugstore. He was quite a pharmacist.”
“For the lesser purchases, anyway,” Theo said. “You had to go elsewhere for larger quantities, didn’t you?”
Sandy shrugged. “He said to try D’Orsini for that. Initially, I went over to see what I could buy for a thousand dollars. I intended to buy ganja as a favor for the guys at the dorm, who all chipped in what they could.”
D’Orsini glanced over his shoulder at the policemen in the driveway and the police car parked on the street. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’d like to contribute to this, if I may. The young man did come over to discuss a purchase. Once terms were agreed on, he said he wouldn’t have the money for several days. Nothing changed hands. It was merely fanciful talk; I was amusing myself at his expense.”
“You said you’d have the coke by Saturday morning,” Sandy said, knocking over his glass as he jabbed his finger at D’Orsini. “Eli told me you were one of the biggest dealers in Jamaica, and you didn’t deny it. In fact, you said you’d arrange for the shipment the next night. I’m not taking a fall alone. I’m just a misguided kid who wanted a few kilos of ganja; you asked me if I might prefer something with more potential.”
D’Orsini held up his hands. “All we did is talk, my boy. Sticks and stones and so forth. Had I known that Eli captured that innocent conversation on film, I would have laughed off his blackmail attempt. I was … protecting someone else.”
“Indeed,” Theo said. “But Sandy suddenly found himself in serious trouble. The lens cap was discovered on the balcony the next morning, and he quickly deduced its significance. Although the film might not prove anything that would stand up in court, he could not allow himself to be implicated in the drug bust. Any association with a drug dealer would be enough to have him kicked out of the Naval Academy and cause a serious rift with his parents. He did not intend to be called as a witness, or to even have his face in a photograph.”
“Not even on the cover of People magazine?” Trey interrupted. “Magsy would have killed for less.”
Theo silenced him with a look. “In order to eliminate the possibility, Sandy purchased several ackees at the market and left them in the kitchen. During the night, he mashed one and put the pulp in a bottle of rum. He often went to Eli’s room to send him out for a newspaper; it would not have been difficult to leave the bottle in an inviting place and cross his fingers. He did so the morning of the trip on the Governor’s Coach, which distanced him from whatever happened later that day. It was an alibi of sorts, I suppose.”
Dorrie fluffed her hair. “And while on the train, he and Mary Margaret finalized the bogus kidnapping scheme. I wondered why the two were so cozy. She sat in his lap for half the trip back; I was deeply concerned about the circulation in his legs.”
Theo nodded at her, then turned back to Sandy. “After sending Eli on an errand, you left the bottle in his room. You did not, however, have an opportunity to search for the roll of film, since Gerry and I were on the terrace. Dorrie heard you later that night, when you crept down to Eli’s room and crawled through the window to search for the film. Biff assumed the screams had awakened you and that you’d subsequently gone to investigate. In reality, you were already in the driveway when the girls encountered Eli’s body in the pool. When I saw you by the terrace door, you were on your way back upstairs, the film safely tucked in your pocket.”
“I can’t believe it,” Dorrie said, staring at Sandy as if he were a lab specimen. “You heard the screams, but you went right on with your little mission. You probably guessed that we’d discovered a dead body in the pool. For all intents and purposes, you put it there, didn’t you? And then let us find it! That is unforgivable.”
“Disgusting,” Bitsy sniffed.
“Yeah,” Trey said with a laugh. “Now look who’s Mr. Disgusto.”
Biff opened his mouth to say something, but a look of pain crossed his face and he hastily stared down at his shoes. After a moment, Dorrie moved next to him and put her hand on his arm. He covered her hand with his, and they moved closer together.
Stahl cleared his throat. “Then what about this damn film? We can assume he replaced the film with a used roll from his friend’s camera case; that’s not all that tough. But we searched every inch of the villa and didn’t find it. Did he throw it away?”
Theo looked at Sandy, who was sitting with a politely interested smile. “I think he’s too much of a businessman to dispose of something with potential value. He might have wanted to have the film developed so that he himself could use it against D’Orsini.”
“So where is it?” Stahl demanded. “It’s still our only real evidence. We’ll make a case once we have proof he was at D’Orsini’s villa.”
“In the one place your men didn’t search—his golf bag. He had it with him during the search, and in fact stuck it under our noses while we sat on the terrace yesterday and lamented its disappearance. You might send a man at this time to investigate the contents of the bag.”
“So develop the film; it will prove that I went over for a chat,” Sandy said, shrugging. “I don’t see how it proves anything else.”
Theo waited for a minute, then in a soft voice said, “But how do you explain its presence in your golf bag? You really should have thrown it away, young man.”
“Well, that’s settled,” Dorrie said, clasping her hands together. “Who would like some crackers and pâté?”
It took a while before hors d’oeuvres could be served. Stahl told D’Orsini and Gerry to come to the station the next morning for further discussion, then took Sandy and his golf bag away. Biff and Dorrie went to one side of the pool to talk, their heads bent close together. Trey ambled down to the opposite side and stared into the distance; after a moment, Bitsy joined him.
D’Orsini winked at Theo, then excused himself to change clothes. Gerry moved to the chair beside Theo and filled her glass with punch.
“Given a choice, this would not have been my lifestyle,” she said, smiling ruefully. “A conventional lifestyle would be much simpler, but there’s something within me that necessitates the pretense. I stopped fighting it a long time ago. After some horrid things happened in New Jersey, a conservative place where men don’t eat quiche and women don’t pump gas, I fled down here, where the sun is constant and the trade winds cool. Should I ever come into a great deal of money, I’ll pack my bags and find a clinic in Switzerland to have extensive surgery. Thank you for not exposing my private situation to these young people.”
“I shall be obligated to discuss it with the authorities. Sergeant Stahl will be d
iscreet, I hope, and there is no hard evidence concerning your participation in the drug smuggling. I simply guessed at that. If you desist, I should imagine nothing will happen to you or to D’Orsini.”
“Hal realizes that the only reason he’s not going to prison is that the young man had to wait for his money to be wired. Hal made arrangements to acquire the cocaine the following night, but that had not been completed either. I think he’ll turn to other occupations, now.”
“Escorting single women?”
Laughing, she stood up. “It keeps him busy, and for rather obvious reasons, it does not threaten me.” She went down the driveway and drove away in her flamingo station wagon.
Amelia came onto the terrace. “I’m glad that’s over with,” she said, eyeing the clutter on the table with a disapproving look. “I never did trust that boy—he was too polite to be real. You want me to serve dinner?”
Theo looked at the twosomes on either side of the pool. “No, they can dine at a restaurant tonight. I’ll fix myself something.”
Dorrikin and Biffkin were enthusiastic about the opportunity to dine at a hotel and dance until dawn. Bitsy agreed to go along with Trey and even swore not to say the word “disgusting” unless the group agreed it was justified. They drove away in the beige car.
Humming a reggae tune, Theo fixed himself a cup of tea and took it out to the terrace, where he sank down to watch the lights of the jets cutting across the sky.
“Yo,” Sitermann called as he came onto the terrace. He wore fuchsia-colored Bermuda shorts and a shirt that threatened to either bloom or explode. “You got everything worked out, I hear. Nailed the boy, pussyfooted around certain folks’ private lives, and told Stahl where to find the film. Scared D’Orsini into cleaning up his act in perpetuity. Not bad for an old guy, Bloom. I must admit I was impressed.”
“Thank you,” Theo said, sipping his tea. “I suppose you followed us to the marina last night. Sandy heard you come on board. You’re lucky he had not yet fetched the gun, or he would have caused you grief.”
“No, not this old boy. I had a transmitter on my person, and the coastal police were tagging along behind us all the way. I just wanted to hear what all he said to you and that sweet little niece of yours.” Sitermann snorted as Theo picked up his teacup. “How about a pitcher of something with a little more oomph?”
“If you want to fix yourself something, please do,” Theo said. He accompanied the spy to the kitchen and opened the cabinet where the liquor supply was kept. While Sitermann prepared a martini, Theo said, “Mary Margaret walked down the hill the night she opted to disappear. Could the worst-dressed movie mogul on the West Coast have failed to see someone of her proportions—even in the dark?”
Sitermann slapped his forehead. “Oh, yeah, I remember now. She practically knocked me down. While I was steadying her with a grandfatherly hand, she begged me not to tell anyone that I’d seen her. You know me, Bloom—I’m just a lamb when some future starlet bats her eyelashes and whispers in my ear. But I didn’t know where she was going, so I didn’t lie to you.”
“Sitermann,” Theo said, “you are—”
The telephone rang, interrupting what might have been a diatribe of astounding length and depth. Theo picked up the receiver. “Yes?”
“I would like to be kept informed of the situation, Theo. Apparently Win received all sorts of absolutely bizarre telephone calls and communiqués from wherever it is you are. Considering the tribulations I was forced to endure during the second session, I feel I deserve a full explanation.”
With a smile, Theo handed the receiver to Sitermann. “It’s for you.”
About the Author
Joan Hess (b. 1949) is the award-winning author of several long-running mystery series. Born in Arkansas, she was teaching preschool when she began writing fiction. Known for her lighthearted, witty novels, she is the creator of the Claire Malloy Mysteries and the Arly Hanks Mysteries, both set in Arkansas.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1988 by Joan Hess
Cover design by Andy Ross
978-1-5040-3733-4
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