by John J. Rust
FORTY-FOUR
Rastun slept in one of the chairs in the downstairs lounge for about three hours before Lipeli woke him up.
“The chopper’s almost here.”
“Thanks, sir.” Rastun rubbed his eyes and stood, while Lipeli slapped Geek on the shoulder to waken him.
Sherlock was already up and talking on his cell phone. When he hung up, Rastun asked, “Anything new?”
“I just checked my messages.” Sherlock told him what his lab techs and investigators from the Marshal’s Service had found. The information gave them an ironclad case against their mole.
The ex-Rangers hit the bathroom before the helicopter, a Coast Guard HH-65 Dolphin, landed in the FUBI’s near-deserted parking lot. They flew to the USCG air station in Atlantic City, refueled, then headed out to open ocean. The first rays of the sun crept over the horizon when they spotted Epic Venture.
“Epic Venture, Epic Venture. This is United States Coast Guard helicopter Dolphin Ten,” radioed the pilot. “Prepare to receive three passengers.”
“Dolphin Ten, this is Epic Venture.” That sounded like Hernandez. “What passengers?”
“Two of your field security specialists and a U.S. deputy marshal. We’ll be winching them down to you. Request you bring your vessel to full stop.”
“Epic Venture coming to full stop, aye.”
The wake generated by the boat’s engines soon vanished. The Coasties lowered Rastun first.
“Captain Rastun?” Hernandez looked at him in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d be back.”
“Well, I am. Now round up everyone. We’re having a meeting in the conference room in five minutes.”
Hernandez just stared at him, looking unsure. Technically, Rastun wasn’t the captain of Epic Venture and probably didn’t have the authority to order around the first mate.
Right now, he didn’t care.
“Hop to it, Hernandez.”
“Um, yes, sir.”
Hernandez hurried back to the bridge as Geek set down, followed by Sherlock. The three headed to salon/conference room on the fly bridge. One by one, the expedition members filed in, with Ehrenberg first. He did a double-take when he saw them.
“Jack? Geek? Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” He yawned and rubbed his eyes. “It would have been more pleasant a little later this morning.”
“Sorry, Doc. This can’t wait.”
Ehrenberg gave Rastun a puzzled stare. “Is everything all right?”
“Not really.”
Malakov came in next. Her jaw dropped when she saw them.
“What the hell are you doing here?” She turned to Ehrenberg. “Why are they here? We need to call FUBI Headquarters. They have no business being on this boat.”
“For your information, Doctor, FUBI Headquarters sent us here.”
“That’s not…how could they after that story?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Karen appeared next. “Jack.” A huge smile formed on her face.
Rastun maintained a business-like expression.
Her smile faded. She eyed him with a mixture of confusion and concern. Before she could say anything, Pilka, Montebello, Captain Snider and Tamburro arrived, while Hernandez resumed his post on the bridge.
“So what’s all this about, Jack? And who’s this?” Ehrenberg pointed to Sherlock.
“This is Deputy U.S. Marshal Arthur Sherlock Dunmore. We served together in the Rangers.”
“Why do we need the police here?” Malakov switched her harsh stare from Rastun to Sherlock.
“Because of what happened when the Point Pleasant Monster attacked Bold Fortune,” said Rastun.
“What do you mean?” asked Pilka.
“You all saw what happened when Geek and I fought the monster. Geek’s shotgun didn’t do a thing to it, even with armor-piercing rounds. The toxin dart I fired also did nothing. And now we know why. Someone on this expedition switched out our ammunition with blanks. We couldn’t kill the monster, and because of that, Captain Keller is dead.”
“That’s when the FUBI brought me in,” Sherlock began. “To find out who the mole is. Initially, you were at the top of my list, Doctor Malakov, given your extreme views on animal rights and environmentalism.”
Malakov barked out a laugh. “Trust the police to treat someone who works to protect the planet as a criminal.”
“You’ve also had associations with members of radical environmental groups that would use any means necessary to keep the Point Pleasant Monster alive. But you’re not the only one with the motive and the contacts to do this. I also considered Doctor Ehrenberg a suspect.”
“Me? You can’t be serious.”
“You’ve been on expeditions funded by the Kobel Trust. The man it was named after expressed a desire to start a zoo with various cryptids, should they ever be found.”
“Chris Kobel has been dead for years.”
“I know,” Sherlock responded. “But I checked, and some of the people who run the trust still support that idea. A sea monster would be a big draw.”
“I assure you, I have done nothing to sabotage this mission,” declared Ehrenberg.
“I know you haven’t. Neither you nor Doctor Malakov have done anything to jeopardize the success of this expedition or the lives of its members.”
Sherlock turned to Karen. She furrowed her brow. “Why are you looking at me?”
“Miss Thatcher, are you familiar with a property on Fifty Trotting Horse Way in Greensville County, Virginia?”
“The old mansion? I sold it last year.”
“To Old South Restoration, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Old South Restoration is a front. It only exists on paper. They created a fake company so they could buy that mansion and store another Point Pleasant Monster in it.”
Gasps and shouts of surprise went up from the expedition members.
“What are you talking about?” Pilka blurted.
“There’s another one out there?” Ehrenberg’s eyes widened.
“This is ridiculous!” shouted Malakov.
“You think so?” Rastun pulled out his phone. “See for yourself.”
He showed them the pictures of the monster. Everyone stared at it in amazement.
“I don’t know anything about this.” Karen jabbed a hand at Rastun’s phone.
“So you don’t know who Norman Gunderson is?” asked Sherlock.
“Sure I do. I mean, I know him by reputation, which isn’t good when it comes to owning zoos.” Karen paused. “Is he the one behind this?”
“Yes. The fishing boat that accidentally caught the other monster belongs to a company owned by Gunderson. He sent some of his people to threaten the crew to stay quiet. One of them didn’t and was murdered. The people who were guarding this creature also tried to kill me, Captain Rastun and Sergeant Hewitt last night. I’m also willing to bet Gunderson is behind Old South Restoration.”
“What?” Karen stared at Sherlock, mouth agape. “I don’t know anything about this. Those people from Old South made me a good offer and I took it. All this other stuff …” Karen turned to Rastun, a desperate look on her face. “Jack, you have to believe me. I had nothing to do with this.”
Rastun said nothing.
But Sherlock did. “Technically, you did, when you sold that mansion to Old South Restoration. But I think that was arranged by the person who owned the mansion before you.”
He turned to Pilka.
“M-Me?” The marine biologist leaned as far back from Sherlock as possible.
“I had some investigators look deeper into the mansion. They called before we came here. The mansion is administered by a trust, but it had been owned by the Holmes family, which included Gregory Holmes, your maternal grandfather.”
Pilka swallowed.
“You let the trust handle everything with the property, since you were too busy trying to hold down jobs while drinking away your sorrows. Unfortunately, the real es
tate market hasn’t been very good the past few years, especially with mansions a hundred and fifty years old and in poor condition. But before the trust could sell it and you could make some money off it, the court took it away from you and gave it to Miss Thatcher to help with the child support payments you never made.”
“What?” Surprise flared across Ehrenberg’s face…and Malakov’s, and Montebello’s and Tamburro’s.
“You and Raleigh…?” Malakov couldn’t finish the sentence. Her eyes just flickered between the two.
Karen’s shoulders sagged. “We had an affair when I was in college. That’s how Emily was born.” She turned to Pilka. “The daughter you don’t even want to admit exists. The daughter you’ve done shit to help since the day she was born!”
“Why should I help you or your brat? You cost me my marriage. You cost me my job at the institute.”
“You cost yourself that job because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. And here I was stupid enough to think I was special when you were screwing every intern and research assistant that walked through the door.”
“I guess that explains why you couldn’t get much info out of the marine institute,” Geek said to Sherlock. “They probably hushed it all up. Don’t want bad publicity.”
“That’s exactly what happened.” Karen continued glaring at Pilka. “When I took this bastard to court for child support, they awarded me the mansion. I was going to put it up for a public auction when someone from Old South Restoration contacted me. They made me a good offer, so I took it. I took it to support my daughter. I had no idea they planned to hide a sea monster there.”
“And that sale was made a few days after the fishing boat discovered the other monster,” said Sherlock. “Were you the one who told Gunderson about the mansion, Doctor Pilka?”
“I-I-I had nothing to do with this. Obviously Karen’s the one working for Gunderson.”
“You lying piece of shit!” she yelled.
“I might still believe that if not for two pieces of evidence,” said Sherlock. “One was a simple tube of sunscreen.”
Pilka shuddered.
“I was suspicious when Captain Rastun told me how the Point Pleasant Monster seemed drawn to Miss Thatcher in the two attacks. So I had him obtain samples of her toiletries for analysis. The sunscreen came back tainted with pheromones from the other monster.”
“What?” Karen blurted.
“That’s how we learned there was another monster out there. But what really helped confirm Doctor Pilka as the mole was something he obviously overlooked when switching out Captain Rastun’s and Sergeant Hewitt’s ammunition. A gun cleaning kit.”
“How did that help you?” asked Ehrenberg.
“Doctor Pilka somehow got the code for the weapons locker. That’s how he managed to switch out the ammunition. I’m also sure you wiped the guns and the locker clean of prints. But Captain Rastun told me he’d left his gun cleaning kit near the locker, and the next day someone moved it. He assumed it might have been Mister Hernandez who’d done it while he was cleaning. But I took the kit to our lab, and they found your prints on it.”
Pilka closed his eyes. His head lowered.
“An experienced thief would have wiped down the kit,” said Sherlock. “But you did what most people do when something is in their way. Move it aside and forget about it.”
Pilka covered his face with his hands. For a moment, Rastun wondered if the man would cry.
“You…You tried to kill me?” Karen stared in shock at Pilka.
The marine biologist lifted his face out of his hands. He met Karen’s gaze, then averted his eyes.
“You fucking bastard!”
Karen launched herself across the table. The slap she gave Pilka sounded like a rifle shot. He nearly fell out of his seat.
Karen hit him again and again. Pilka tried to swat her hands away. Karen let out a primal cry and raked her fingers across Pilka’s face. He howled in pain.
“That’s enough. That’s enough!” Rastun grabbed her around the waist and pulled her off of Pilka. Karen kicked and struggled trying to break free. When she couldn’t, she spat at Pilka. A gob of saliva clung to the side of his nose. Rastun also noticed four red lines running down Pilka’s left cheek. Some blood trickled from them. Lucky for him, Karen did not have very long nails, otherwise there’d be rivers of blood pouring down Pilka’s face.
Rastun wouldn’t have minded that at all.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” Malakov shouted. “You’re a disgrace to your profession, a disgrace to this planet!”
“Doctor.” Rastun turned to her. “For once, we’re actually on the same page.”
Pilka rubbed his cheek, trying to shrink away from Sherlock, who stood over him with his arms folded.
“You are in a lot of trouble, Doctor. For starters, you’re involved in a criminal conspiracy that involves threats, intimidation and the murder of a twenty-one-year-old man. Spiking Miss Thatcher’s sunscreen with pheromones counts as attempted murder, and Captain Keller’s death qualifies as second degree murder. All this means you will be going to jail for a very, very long time. Maybe the rest of your life. You better start telling me everything you know about what Gunderson has planned with these monsters if you want a shot at spending the last few years of your life as a free man.”
Pilka chewed on his lower lip. “You don’t know what Gunderson is like. He’ll kill me if I talk.”
“We are going to take Gunderson down with or without your help, which means he won’t be able to kill you or anyone else. Now, do you want to help and spend some time in prison, or keep quiet and spend a long time in prison?”
Pilka’s head drooped. “What do you want to know?”
“How did Gunderson recruit you?” asked Sherlock.
“After I was forced out of the institute, he’d sometimes consult me on where he might find rare creatures like giant squid, leatherback turtles, fur seals. He then hired me to help study the Sea Raptor when it was caught.”
“And the mansion?”
“We needed an isolated location to hold it. When I told Gunderson about the mansion the damn judge gave to her,” Pilka looked briefly at Karen, “he liked the idea. If the Sea Raptor was ever discovered by the authorities, Gunderson had a paper trail created that would link it with Karen and one of her former employers.”
“Who would that be?”
“Holger Mertesacker, the publisher of Exotic Animals Magazine.”
That made sense, Rastun thought. The guy was in debt, and a living sea monster would resolve his money issues and then some. He’d make a great prime suspect.
“What was Gunderson planning to do with the other monster?” asked Sherlock.
“He was hoping to find another one to mate with it.”
“Then he has three creatures to sell instead of one,” Malakov chimed in. “More money for a man who already has too much of it.”
“How was Gunderson able to put you on this expedition?” Sherlock asked Pilka.
“He has people planted in the FUBI. One of them was in operations and recommended me. Her, too.” Again he looked at Karen.
“Just to help add to her perceived guilt if your operation was ever exposed,” said Sherlock.
“Yes.”
“Who provided you with the fake ammunition?”
“A man named Andres Piet. He’s a mercenary Gunderson’s used in the past.”
“Can you give us a description of this Piet?”
“Over six feet tall. Big, like him.” Pilka nodded to Geek. “Maybe in his fifties, but still pretty tough looking. He also has an accent.”
“What kind?”
“It wasn’t British or Australian. I think it might be South African.”
Sherlock pulled out a pair of plastic flexicuffs, grabbed Pilka’s shoulder and lifted him out of the chair. “Raleigh Pilka, I am placing you under arrest.”
While Sherlock read Pilka his rights, Rastun looked at Karen, who was still seething. He tho
ught of the Point Pleasant Monster’s attacks on the boardwalk and Bold Fortune, thought of Karen being inches away from the creature’s snapping jaws.
“Pilka.” He strode up to him.
The marine biologist made it a point not to look him in the eyes.
Rastun punched him in his large stomach. Pilka doubled over, nearly sagging to his knees. Sherlock pulled him back up.
“He assaulted me,” Pilka wheezed.
“If the captain really assaulted you, you’d be unconscious right now.”
“I’m gonna call the Coast Guard.” Ehrenberg stood, angrier than Rastun had ever seen the man. “I want this…maggot off our boat.”
“I’ll lock him in his quarters until the Coast Guard gets here.” Sherlock took Pilka out of the conference room and belowdecks.
After Ehrenberg called the Coast Guard, he collapsed in his chair, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t believe this. I can’t…my God, this whole time he was working against us.”
“I know it’s a lot to swallow, Doc,” said Rastun. “But the situation is resolved. Pilka’s no longer a threat. But we still have a sea monster out there we need to find.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Okay, let’s go back to our quarters, get changed and go find this thing.”
The expedition members rose from the table. Malakov looked first to Rastun, then Geek, then back to Rastun. She gave him a rather forced nod and walked away.
That’s probably as close to an ‘atta boy’ as I’ll get from her.
He turned to Geek. “Let’s get out on deck and be ready if we spot the monster.”
“Yes, sir.”
As they headed for the hatch, Karen called out, “Jack?”
He looked at her, then back at Geek. “I’ll catch up.”
Geek nodded and went outside.
Rastun walked over to her. He didn’t even try to keep the smile off his face. Karen wasn’t the mole.
He reached around her waist and pulled her into a long kiss.
“It’s good to be back,” said Rastun.
That’s when he noticed Karen wasn’t smiling.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your marshal friend sounded like he was convinced for a while I was Gunderson’s spy.”