The Catalina Cabal

by Bill Thesken

“There’s no sure thing about a murder either, there’s always a loose end somewhere, and there’s always someone looking for it. Killing is the real long shot.”

  “I vote to send him to the bottom.”

  “I’m a cop, I can’t get involved in a murder.”

  “Cop my ass. You always thought you were better than us, sitting all high and mighty behind your badge. Well I got news for you pal, you’re not a cop, you’re a criminal like the rest of us. You’re just a damned smuggler. You’re just as dirty as us. In fact you’re more dirty than us. People expect a lot more out of you. They look at me like I’m an alcoholic trouble maker, but you, they look at you like the night in shining armor. You’re just a lying piece of shit dirty cop.”

  “I’m still a cop and I’m done with this business I tell you. All I ever did was bring in some immigrants, I never killed anyone. This is my last run. If you want my help right here and right now, I say we put him on his boat and frame him for drug running and that’s it.”

  “We don’t have time for all of that, we have to make the pick-up at the lane in less than three hours.”

  “We’ll bring him with us. Tie him up in one of the holds, and after we drop off the packages at the dock we drop him off on his boat.”

  “This is getting way too complicated.”

  “It’s the only way I’m going.”

  “We’re running out of time, how are we gonna get him out of here?”

  “Wrap him in a blanket, throw him in the back of Corbin’s truck.”

  “Someone’s gonna see it and think it’s a body.”

  “That busy body Mrs. Cramer next door.”

  “We got that roll of artificial turf out back, we’ll roll him up in it.”

  “Looks like he’s still out cold, I haven’t seen him move a muscle. Man Corbin, you really gave him a wallop.”

  “Threw the bat as hard as I could like a tomahawk from twenty feet away, hit him right in the side of the head.”

  “Maybe he’s dead and we’ll have to go with the first plan after all, and send him to the bottom.”

  “Kick him and see if he groans.”

  “I can see his chest moving, he’s still breathing.”

  Someone put a finger on my neck for a moment.

  “He’s still got a pulse.”

  “Don, go out to the back yard and get that roll of carpet and let’s get going.”

  Footsteps and a door opening and closing.

  Then the voices turned to whispers.

  “Look, you and I both know the only sure way to end this guy looking into our business is to get rid of him once and for all. That stupid idea to frame this guy is bullshit. Don’s out of it, he’s finished. We can’t count on him for anything anymore. He’s not thinking straight.”

  “If you ask me, he hasn’t been thinking straight for a long time.”

  “I say we take this guy out to the lane just like Don wants, and then he accidently falls overboard when no one’s looking.”

  “With a sand anchor tied to his feet. We have a fifty pounder on the boat, it’ll take about ten seconds to zip tie it on him and toss him over. Whoops.”

  “Yeah, whoops, and then there’s nothing Don can do about it. He’s out and we continue to run the business without him. He can’t get wise with us because he’s an accomplice.”

  “Here he comes.”

  The door opened, footsteps dragging something next to me, and then they rolled me over onto a carpet.

  “Not too tight,” said the voice I recognized as Don’s. “We don’t want him to suffocate.”

  They rolled me into the artificial turf and carried me outside and loaded me into the back of the truck. I thought I might have a chance if they put me in the blanket, but now I was like a sardine packed into a can.

  We bounced down the hill, around corners and over speed bumps. I could smell the salt air as we got closer to the harbor. Then we stopped, they took me out, and loaded me onto a boat. I could feel the buoyancy of the water, they quickly shoved off and we were heading out to sea, out to the Black Cat and my journey to the bottom with a sand anchor. No one said a word on the short trip, it was getting late, near midnight and the ship-to-shore transfer boats were done for the night. It sounded like we were the only motor on the water. We pulled up next to a boat, I could hear and feel as the sides touched, bumpers squeaking.

  “It’s about time,” said a voice from above.

  “We ran into some trouble.”

  “What the hell is that? Why did you bring a roll of carpet out here?”

  “There’s a guy in it.”

  “What?”

  “Long story, help us get this into one of the hulls. He’s out like a light.”

  “It’s not gonna fit.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s too long. The roll of carpet is too long to fit.”

  “You’re full of shit.”

  “I’m telling you it’s too long, I know this boat like the back of my hand, and I’m telling you it won’t fit through the hatch, it won’t bend enough to make the turn.”

  “I’m gonna give you the back of my hand in a minute.”

  “Try it, tough guy.”

  “Okay, it’s too long, we’re running late as it is. Unroll the guy out of it, and shove him in the hull, how’s that?”

  “Works for me. Captain?”

  “Is this the guy who’s been poking his nose where it shouldn’t be?”

  “One and the same.”

  “Roll him out and let’s have a look. You’re sure he’s out?”

  “Last we checked but you never know, so get ready.”

  “Naw, leave him in the roll,” said the voice from above. “We’ll lash him to the deck so we can keep an eye on him. It’s safer that way, I don’t want him coming to his senses in one of the hulls, he might find a way to do some damage. Or escape.”

  They lifted me up onto the deck of the boat. I could hear but couldn’t feel ropes lashing the roll of carpet that I was trapped inside. I was covered in sweat, or blood, I couldn’t tell which, but my entire body felt slick and wet, and I pushed my elbows down by my hips and brought my hands up to the middle of my chest and inched them higher till I was able to tear the duct tape off my lips and took a deep breath. I was completely awake now, and more terrified then before. By twisting my bound hands towards my left shoulder with one elbow up and the other down, there was enough wiggle room to push my arms up and over my head. Stretching up and reaching as high as I could, my fingers grabbed the edge of the end of the roll and I pulled. My body was so slick that I started to move upwards. Keeping as quiet as possible, I used my feet, hands, and elbows to wiggle until my head and shoulders were sticking just a little bit out of the roll. Like a bug coming out of a cocoon.

  I was on the deck of the Black Cat, the gloomy sails were unfurled, the lights were out and the entire ship was dark. The four criminals were moving about the ship, tightening lines and getting ready to leave the harbor. I waited for just the right moment, when they were the farthest from where I was stashed, and pulled myself all the way out of the roll and crawled to the edge of railing.

  My plan was to slip quietly into the water without a sound, but with my feet and hands bound tight and after being wrapped like a mummy for over an hour, and beaten with a bat, my bones and muscles were stiff as a board. My balance was compromised and I fell rather than slipped into the water with a loud splash.

  The water was freezing cold and stunned me. As I took a deep breath and got ready to dive under water I heard someone shout:

  “What was that?”

  I went straight down, and then angled away from the boat towards what I hoped was towards the shore, but at this point in time the only thing I needed was distance from the Black Cat, in any direction.

  Years ago I watched an old video where Jack LaLanne, hands and feet shackled with chains, was able to tow a line of boats full of people through the frigid waters and currents of San Franc
isco Bay to Alcatraz with a modified dog paddle and frog kick. That’s what I used.

  Slowly and methodically I swam in a straight line, it felt like I was about six feet under water. I could only hope that it was sweat and not blood that enabled me to wiggle out of the cocoon, or I might soon have company in the water with me. I put that thought out of my mind and glided as far as I could, my breath dwindling, hurting as I held it, one more glide, two more glides and then I was at the danger point of passing out. I slowly rose to the surface, my face rising from the water without a single ripple, quietly pulled in a breath, and then another and another. Nothing sweeter in this world. I’d only travelled about thirty feet but it was enough, it was pitch black on the water, no moon, and they were circling the edge of the boat, all four of them with flashlights pointed down to the water and sweeping the surface.

  I slipped under again and kept my pace, modified underwater dog paddle till my breath ran out again and surfaced nearly a hundred feet away. I was halfway to the Spice. Someone from the Black Cat got into the skiff with a flashlight and started circling ever wider around the catamaran while shining the light in the water. I went under water again and dog paddled for my life.

  When I came up again the skiff was near the Spice and the guy with the light was shining it up into the cockpit, then he backtracked to the Black Cat, zig-zagging with the light in the water all the way back then gave up and raced back to his boat. The flashlight went off and he tied the skiff to the buoy and climbed aboard the catamaran.

  I dog paddled and glided to the back of the Spice then pulled myself up on the transom and crawled into the cockpit. I found my knife in the side by the fighting chair, wedged it between my knees and cut the zip ties on my hands, then with my hands finally free, I used the knife on the zip ties binding my feet.

  The only weapon I had on board was this knife and a flare gun, so I opened up a side cabinet marked EMERGENCY and took out the case. This qualified as an emergency in my mind. There was a flare in the chamber and ten others lined up in the case. I patted it and put it on the side.

  If they saw me on board and tried to come after me, I could hold them off with a couple of well-placed flares into their skiff, start up my engines, unhook the buoy and outrace any boat on the water.

  Except for the Coast Guard interceptor boat, and it wasn’t in the harbor at the moment.

  I took a deep breath and thought hard. I’d wait here on the Spice till they left the harbor for their little package pickup in the lane. They mentioned two hours to get there. So I’d wait a couple of hours to make sure they made the pickup and I’d call my buddy at the Coast Guard and make sure they were here in the harbor when they returned.

  The binoculars were still in the fighting seat where I’d left them after being shot at by Corbin. I picked them up and focused on the Black Cat.

  Three of them were lashing down lines on the deck and one of them, who looked like Don, was pointing a pair of binoculars directly at me.

  I was still a little woozy and not thinking straight from getting beat up so my head might have been a little bit too high above the railing. I ducked down and cursed.

  Ten seconds passed and I crawled farther up inside the cockpit and raised the glasses over the edge again. Now all four of them were standing together, two of them had binoculars and were looking directly at me. One of them pointed. I’d been spotted. I kept my sight on them.

  Three of them were having a heated discussion while Don kept his binoculars on me.

  No sense in hiding any longer and I stood up straight while keeping the binoculars trained on them. I’d wait for the last moment till they headed my way, and would start my engines.

  Three things happened instantaneously.

  Two heads semi-exploded. A fragment hit Don and he flinched. Then a third head exploded and Don wheeled around and flew into the water. From my angle I could see the rifle flashes. Two from the left side of the harbor and two from the right. I focused on the left side first. Tucked into the shadows on a flat rock above the water, someone was breaking down and packing a rifle into a case, while on right side a man was still looking through the sight on a long rifle. He was looking towards Don swimming in the water.

  He knew he’d missed.

  Then he raised the rifle sight until it was pointed directly at me and I ducked behind the railing. He saw me, and he knew that I had seen him. I crawled to the back of the boat, waited ten seconds and raised the binoculars slightly above the rail. He had the rifle broken down and packed, and was moving up from the rock onto the pier. I swung the binoculars back to the left, to the other guy. He was long gone.

  The guy on the right was walking quickly, but not too fast as to attract attention. He was tall, that much I could see. There was a cadence and style to his walk. Sharp, crisp, military. He wore a cap and glasses to hide much of his face, but the cheeks, chin, and neck line were visible. Asian. He stopped walking for a moment, pulled out his own pair of binoculars and focused them on me, then swung them to the Black Cat and the figure struggling in the water.

  I looked back towards Don. He was in trouble, trying to get back aboard the Black Cat. He was hurt, the assassin must have winged him and that’s why he wheeled around and flew into the water, must have gotten him around the shoulder area. He couldn’t climb onto the boat and just held on. I looked back towards the Asian assassin, who had disappeared somewhere in the shadows along the pier.

  I started the engines, ran to the front and unsnapped the cable holding the boat to the buoy. I slowly idled forward towards the Black Cat while keeping one eye forward and one eye on the pier.

  Talk about a gamble; two guys with rifles were running around shooting people and I was heading straight into the scene of the crime. Don saved me, in a way, and I would be damned if I’d let him drown right now. If it wasn’t for him I’d probably have a bullet in my head back at their little clubhouse.

  I pulled up next to the Black Cat, cut the drive on the engines, and lowered the deck hook into the water.

  “Grab onto it,” I ordered. I pulled him up through the marlin gate and sat him down in the cockpit. I could see the other three men spread eagled on the deck of the Black Cat, half their heads missing. Don looked over the railing and could see the same scene as I was looking at. He slumped back and sat down on the deck with his back against the rail and held his right shoulder. His face was ashen, in shock from the shootings, the cold water, the pain and loss of blood.

  “How is it, can you tell if it’s deep?”

  “I got nicked, maybe severed a tendon. I can’t use my arm.”

  “Let’s have a look, I don’t want you bleeding to death on my boat.”

  I picked up the knife I’d used to cut my zip tie binds and sliced his shirt open by the shoulder. The wound was bleeding slowly but not profusely. The bullet tore an inch long ridge on the top of his shoulder, nothing that a few stitches couldn’t fix. There was a first aid kit in a cabinet within reach. I pulled out a large bandage compress, pressed it tight, and wrapped it with elastic tape.

  “Looks like you’ll live.” He closed his eyes tight and I continued. “If you want to.”

  “My life is over, I might as well be dead.”

  “Bullshit,” I said. “You’re not the one killing people. You’re not even going to be a cop anymore, but maybe you still have something to live for, like your wife, for one.”

  He shook his head and wiped away half a tear. “We all grew up together, since we were little kids running around this harbor. It started out as an easy way to make a little extra money, and then it turned into a lot of money. I guess we got in over our heads. I owe you for pulling me out of the water.”

  I nodded. “You saved me, and I saved you. We’re even.”

  “Okay.”

  He had a cop’s brain, so I spoke quickly to him. “There were two snipers, one on the left side of the harbor and one on the right, I had a direct line of sight to each of them, they took two shots each, a fragment
must have hit you from the first shot, and you moved just enough to make your sniper miss. He saw me with his rifle scope, he knows I saw him, and now he’s loose in Avalon. I can’t let him get away.”

  “I can’t either. Did you get a good look at them?”

  “The guy on the right as he walked down the pier and into the shadows. He looked Asian.”

  “Coincidence?”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “Why don’t you level with me.”

  “We must have stepped on the wrong toes.”

  “We could call the coast guard and your office and get some help.”

  “The coast guard ship’s on the other side of the island. We put out a false alarm to clear them from this area. They’re three hours away.”

  “What about your office, anyone good with a gun?”

  “They’re best suited for breaking up bar fights and writing tickets for loud behavior and public drunkenness. It’ll take too long to get them up to speed.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to get them involved yet.”

  “Well, they’re gonna have to get involved sometime soon, in fact, when it gets light out in couple of hours and people start wondering why a bunch of dead guys are lying around on the Black Cat.”

  “There’s two of them and two of us.”

  “Where are my handguns?”

  “We threw them in the harbor.”

  I shook my head, what a waste. “We need weapons, nothing long range, this is going to be up close and personal. Let’s go to your precinct and pick up a couple of handguns and some shotguns.”

  “If I show up at the precinct with a bloody shoulder it’ll take an hour to explain everything, and there’s no way we’re gonna catch up to those guys.”

  “I know a place that has a couple of shotguns and pistols.”

  “Where?”

  “Your buddy Corbin’s’ house.”

  “You broke in?”

  “He took a shot at me a couple of hours ago.”

  “Yeah, he told us. He wasn’t the brightest guy I’ve ever known.

  “I found his house and looked around a little to see who I was up against. He likes his weapons, and we’re gonna put them to use.”