by AJ Basinski
But, Mario, before I left the United States for China, I received some very depressing news. Mario, YOU ARE IN GREAT DANGER. You must be on constant alert for your own safety. You must not trust anyone. Most importantly, you must leave the island immediately.
“I am sorry that I cannot be more specific, but that is all I know for sure. I know now that you only wanted the best for me and I was too rigid and preoccupied at the time to recognize that. Mario I think that we will be together some day. But you must protect yourself. Take care, Sun Li.”
“Bad news, Mr. Mario,” Zeke said as I crushed the envelope and folded the letter and placed it in my pants pocket.
“No, Zeke, it’s not all bad news,” I said as I climbed the stairs to my room on the second floor of the Inn. “No, it’s not all bad.”
Chapter 26
When I got to my room, I lay down on the bed and tried to puzzle out what exactly was Sun Li talking about. I had to admit that I was buoyed by her statement that we would be together someday. But that seemed to come out of the blue. Maybe there was still some spark that might ignite into something more than friendship. I really hoped she was right. But what about the rest of the letter. None of it seemed to make any sense to me.
Now, what in the world does she mean by saying that I was in great danger. What kind of danger could she be referring to? And why did she want me to leave the island? She was now the third person who wanted me off the island. These Chinese sure are enigmatic was my only conclusion.
As I finished rereading the letter for the hundredth time, I then remembered that Sun Li had told me that her mother had died several years ago and that her father had died when she was just a small child. Why would she be saying that she was going to China to visit her mother if she was already dead? I began to wonder if Sun Li had really written the letter. But if she didn’t, who had?
I took the letter and read it over one last time. The handwriting appeared to be hers; I was pretty certain of that. She and I had exchanged numerous letters when she was in prison. I thought that the handwriting on the letter was hers, but why would she make up a story about her mother being sick when she had to know she had told me her parents were both dead?
I decided I could no longer do nothing. I frantically called her cell phone but of course there was no answer, I must have called and left fifty messages that day but I never received a call back.
The murder investigations on Palm Island suddenly had turned very personal for me.
There was one person who would know who had given him the letters. That was Zeke Chandler himself. I needed to talk to him and talk to him right away.
Chapter 27
Later that day, after I had gathered my thoughts a little more, I went back downstairs to talk to Zeke Chandler to see if I could find out from him what was going on with these letters from Sun Li. When I asked the blonde receptionist if I could see Zeke, she told me that Zeke had taken the rest of the day off. She did tell me that he lived in Fort Myers and she gave me his address. I then drove into Fort Myers, about a twenty minute drive from Palm Island.
Fort Myers is a pretty little town across the Calasahoochee River from Cape Coral and Palm Island. A couple of major league baseball teams take spring training there and there is a lot more to do there than on Palm Island. I had read somewhere that in the nineteen twenties and thirties, Henry Ford and Thomas Alva Edison had spent their winters on large estates in Fort Myers along the river with the unpronounceable name. Because the river was so shallow, Edison and Ford had to have the river dredged so they could bring in equipment and building supplies to build their estates. They were also good friends with Harvey Firestone, the tire manufacturer from Akron, Ohio, who lived nearby on his own estate.
Three great titans of the twentieth century had found their way to this little town. Even today the large, lush estates of Ford and Edison, filled with flowers overflowing in the gardens were still there, on McGregor Boulevard. A sign outside the estates said that they were open to the public for tours. I loved driving along that street, lined with tall palms reaching towards the sky while I was searching for Zeke’s house. The receptionist at the Inn had told me it was on one of the cross streets in that same area of McGregor Boulevard.
After fifteen minutes or so of fruitless searching, I finally found his house on a narrow street off McGregor. It was a nice enough house, a ranch style place that looked like it had seen better days. There was a wooden slat fence that surrounded the yard and the house. Apparently, it had once been painted white, but now it was badly in need of a new coat of paint.
I parked the rented convertible in front of the house and got out of my car and began walking towards the front gate. As I did so, a large black dog seemed to appear from nowhere. It was howling like a banshee, only worse. It was one of those nasty pit bulls that you see all the time on the evening news with stories about how they had chewed the fingers off a baby’s hand or attacked the mailman and just about took his leg off. The dog just went crazy when he saw me coming and jumped to the top of the gate. I immediately backed away. Fortunately, I saw that he was chained to a tree so at least I knew he could not go any farther. Or at least I hoped he couldn’t.
Apparently, alerted by the dog’s loud howling, a young black woman came out of the front door of the house and called, “Here, River, here River.” The dog immediately withdrew from the gate and I thought rather sheepishly returned to his guard position on the wooden porch.
“Can I help you?” the young lady yelled out to me. She was dark-skinned with very fine features. Her hair was long and frizzy. She was wearing a very fashionable light blue blouse and black skinny jeans. This must be Zeke’s daughter, I thought to myself. The lawyer who was going to New York to practice with a white shoe law firm. .
“Yeah,” I yelled back. “My name is Lieutenant Mario Morales and I’m here to see Zeke Chandler.”
“Sure,” she replied. “I’m Janine Chandler, Zeke’s daughter. My Dad’s told me all about you. You’re that detective or something from Miami, investigating the murder of that Mark Sullivan. But he didn’t tell me that you would be coming by the house.”
“No, I didn’t get a chance to tell him I was coming over, but I just need to talk to him about something. Quite important. It will just take a couple of minutes.”
“Well, he’s not here right now, but he should be back any minute. Do you want to join me on the porch and wait for him?”
I said, “Sure, if that’s okay with you and that dog.”
I must have sounded fairly scared when I said this, since the young lady responded, “Oh, just ignore old River. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
I said, “I wasn’t worried about a fly, but I was worried he might kill me.”
She laughed and opened the door to the house and put the dog inside the house. She then offered me a seat on an Adirondack chair on the wraparound porch. She went back inside the house and when she came back on the porch, she handed me a glass of sweet ice tea. It was a typical warm Southwest Florida afternoon and the tea tasted especially good as we sat there in the warm humid air. It felt like there would be a thunderstorm soon. Janine and I chatted amicably for a few minutes while we waited for Zeke to return home.
“I understand that you just graduated from Harvard Law School,” I said as the conversation started to lag a bit. How much can you say about near perfect weather anyways?
“Yes,” she responded, a little sheepishly. “I guess my Dad’s been bragging about me again.”
I laughed and said, “What is it they say, ‘it’s not bragging if it’s true’? So if it is true, enjoy the compliments.” Even in our short conversation on the porch that afternoon, I could see that she was one determined woman and that she would go far in the law or whatever endeavor she might find herself involved with.
When Zeke finally returned home a few minutes later, I could see that he was very surprised to see me there on the porch with his daughter .
“Hey Zeke,” I bega
n as calmly as I could. “I’ve been having a nice talk with your daughter here. I’m sure you are very proud of her accomplishments.” Zeke nodded his head but remained quiet, which was very unusual for him. Usually he was more than willing to speak and offer his opinion.
“Zeke,” I continued, “I just wanted to have a few words with you. I just have a couple of questions that I thought you might be able to help me with.”
Zeke brightened a bit when I said this and he responded with wide smile and said “Sure. Mr. Mario. Janine, why don’t you go inside while I talk to this here gentleman. And tell your mother I’m out here. I don’t want her to think I got lost coming back to the house from the store. And give her these peaches,” he said as he handed a brown paper bag to his daughter. “I think she’s going to make some peach cobbler for dessert tonight.”
With that, the young lady went inside and shut the door behind her.
“Zeke, I am not going to dilly dally around and waste your time. I’m here about Sun Li.”
As soon as I mentioned Sun Li’s name, I could see his face tighten even more than it had been when he first saw me on the porch with his daughter.
“Zeke, tell him, those two letters that you gave me back at the Inn that you said came from Sun Li, how did you get them? Did Sun Li really give you that first letter or did someone else give it to you to give to me? And that second letter, I know she didn’t write it because it was filled with inaccuracies. I am worried about her welfare and I have to find out what’s happened to her. And I think you can help me.”
Zeke looked down at his enormous hands, looked away and then turned and looked at me, “Mr. Mario, I wish I could tell you, but I was sworn to secrecy.”
“Sworn to secrecy? By whom?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“I wish I could tell you. I really wish I could. But I can tell you Miss Sun Li is fine. Just fine.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” I was becoming agitated with his answers and knew that was not the tack to take. But this was personal. This was Sun Li.
Zeke put his hands to his face and I thought he might start to cry.
“That’s all I can say. I wish I could say more,” Zeke finally said. “But she is okay, Mr. Mario. She is okay. Don’t you worry? No, don’t you worry.”
With that, Zeke got up from the chair on the porch and went inside the house and closed the door behind him. He obviously knew a lot more than he was telling me about what had happened to Sun Li and I also suspected that he knew a lot more about the murders of Sullivan and Amanda Blakely. I could not imagine he was the killer himself, but I suspected he did know who it was.
That would be the last time I would see Zeke Chandler alive.
Chapter 28
When I got back to my room at the Bonita Inn, there was a message waiting for me at the front desk. It was from Ed Shipley. He said that he wanted to see me right away so I drove over to his office. He was nervously pacing up and down his office.
Shipley said to me, “Look, Mario, I didn’t want to cut you off or anything, but I know you want to get back to your job aboard the Mardi Gras. I just thought it best to leave it at that for now.”
I was stumped. Finally, I said “What the hell do you mean by that?”
“Look, Mario, I can handle these investigations. I get the feeling that we are close. Maybe even very close to solving these murders. I know you were helping me out unofficially, but I want to go it alone from here on out. When I asked you to get involved, I was just a little harried, you know, with the reporters everywhere and all that. But those guys are mostly gone now. You know how they move on to something else, the next big story. I got some ideas I want to pursue and I just don’t think we both need to be involved from here on out.”
I just couldn’t imagine what those “ideas” could possibly be. So far, in my mind, Shipley had shown little inclination to pursue any leads or to show any initiative in the investigation of the two murders. And I had no idea who he might be thinking of as a suspect. But I also knew that I had to tread lightly. I didn’t want to step on Shipley’s toes in the investigations. And after all, this was Shipley’s jurisdiction and these were his cases to investigate as he saw fit. He would still be here long after I was gone and back on the cruise ship.
“Sure, Ed, I understand what you are saying, of course. I’m glad to help you out if you want my help but I’ll back away if that is what you prefer.”
“That’s what I prefer,” Shipley said as he quickly rose from his chair and came around his desk, shook my hand and just as quickly ushered me out the door.
“Let’s keep in touch,” Shipley yelled after me as I walked to my rental car.
Still somewhat bewildered by this sudden turn of events, I just nodded my head as I climbed into the car and headed back to the Bonita Inn.
Chapter 29
Tomas Janosz was the newly-elected District Attorney for Pine County, Florida, the county in which Palm Island is located. The murders of Mark Sullivan and Amanda Blakely technically fell within his jurisdiction.
Previously, Janosz had served as an Assistant US Attorney for the Southern District of Florida. That was where I got to know him. He had been the prosecutor in the drug smuggling case in which Sun Li had been involved and which had led to her time in jail. I knew he was a straight shooter and that I could trust him.
Now that Shipley had thrown me off the case, I had no official capacity to conduct an investigation on my own. But I knew that Janosz could provide me with that badge that I would need to see this thing through to the end, no matter how bitter it now might be with Sun Li at risk in all of this. No way was I about to give up and just head back to Miami.
I could see that the investigation into the two murders was going nowhere with Shipley at the helm despite his statements to me about alleged ‘suspects’ and ‘ideas.’. It had been over a week since Sullivan’s body was found and several days since the body of Amanda Blakely had washed ashore. Now Shipley wanted me clear out of the picture. Off the island altogether. With the life of Sun Li hanging in the balance, I was not about to go quietly. I was not about to defer to Shipley’s judgment anymore. It now definitely was the time for me to contact Janosz to see what he could do.
When I got back to the Inn, I gave a call to Janosz. I was surprised when he answered the phone himself. I began, “Hello, Mr. Janosz, this is Mario Morales. You may remember me from the Joe Hugo case a couple of years ago.”
“Mario, of course, I remember you. Good to hear from you. What can I do for you?”
“First, let me congratulate you on your election as district attorney,” I said.
“Well, thank you, Mario, I really appreciate it.”
I decided to plunge right into the reason for my call. “I know that you are new to the job and are probably feeling a little overwhelmed right now. And you undoubtedly have a lot of cases on your plate. But the one that I think needs the most of your attention is the Sullivan/Blakely murders.”
“Of course, Mario, as you may know, today is literally my second day on the job. I was just sworn in yesterday. When I had my meeting with the outgoing district attorney about the various cases in the office, he told me that he had pretty much left the investigation into those murders up to Chief Ed Shipley. In fact, he also had told me that you were working as a deputy for Shipley on those cases. I have to admit that when I heard that, it gave me some level of comfort, knowing your investigative capabilities which I saw in the Hugo matter. Quite frankly, given that, I was going to let the case percolate a little more before I got too deeply involved myself.”
I said, “Thank you for the compliment. But you should know that Shipley has now fired me from the case.”
“He has? I’m very sorry to hear that.” Janosz said.
“That’s all right. I have a job on the Mardi Gras and that’s not why I’m calling anyways. It’s not about my losing that job, I’m calling because I don’t think Shipley knows what the hell he is doing. I d
on’t know if it is because he is in over his head or what, but he has done very little to pursue his investigation of the murders. I was shocked at his almost complete lack of interest. Unless I prodded him to do something, nothing really was getting done.”
I also explained about the wild goose chase to Miami and the attempt on my life while there. I did not tell him about the involvement of the CIA or the gold given to the Cuban fighters before the Bay of Pigs. I was definitely torn about whether or not to tell Janosz. Shipley had made it clear that I was not in any way to discuss with anyone the CIA’s involvement in the case. Even though I had serious doubts about Shipley’s handling of the investigation, I somehow felt I should not discuss these issues with Janosz quite yet. I felt that I had to honor my promise to Shipley.
After I had finished with my little speech, Janosz said to me, “This is all very interesting , Mario, but, as I said, I am new to this job and have quite a few things to get up to speed on and this will certainly be near the top of my list. I will have to look into it more closely over the next week or so.”
I was extremely disappointed in this response. I had hoped for some immediate action on his part. So I decided to tell him about Sun Li. “Mr. Janosz, there is one more thing. While I understand your need to familiarize yourself with the case and all that, I have a personal interest in this matter. “
“What do you mean?” Janosz asked.
“I believe that whoever killed Amanda Blakely and Mark Sullivan may be holding my friend, Sun Li, as a hostage and that she is in imminent danger. I want to offer you my services in connection with the investigation into the murders and disappearance of Sun Li. I’m prepared to do anything I can but it would help if I had some official capacity.”