Clint Faraday Mysteries collection A Muddled Murders Collector's Edition

by Moulton, CD

  “Hugh is in development just about halfway between my place and Concepcion,” Al explained. “We come here every Friday for something a little different, though I have to admit I’m getting to like the local fare more than this kind of thing.

  “Clint is a friend from Bocas, Hugh. Did some kind of work with that murder thing last month. On the news.”

  “Oh, yeah. Detective from the states, I hear?” Hugh replied.

  “Uh-huh,” Clint answered disinterestedly. “Seems my reputation follows so they asked me to show them some US methods. Really a simple kind of case.”

  “Don’t be too modest!” Al said, laughing. “You were always good – if you read about the stuff you used to do.”

  “The tabloids make it a lot more interesting and juicy than it usually is. I had a lot of help – if you mean that Indio land deal.”

  “Yes,” Al said, pointedly adding, “Hugh was saying something about some bigtime gangster from the states being involved or something.”

  “Marko? He just warned me about that bunch of clowns who think they can think in Panamá City. Socalled mafia. I knew his father from a couple of cases in California. We sort of owed each other favors in an odd sort of way. He heard about it and made somebody back off or something.”

  “Oh. Yes. Manny Mathews, friend of mine who bought the Indio’s place said he found out about that when he bought it,” Hugh said. “He said Marko came to see you in Bocas.”

  So. Manny WAS Marko, looking for a way to get away from his California mob Don bit by getting a new identity, marrying a beautiful girl from a good family and going legit in the states so his kids wouldn’t have to be ashamed of what Pop made his at. There was no way this character had ever spoken to him – so he was trying to find out where Marko was now.

  “Marko came to see me when it was about over,” Clint answered easily. “He’s got a place where he can retire on Curacao or somewhere such. Wants out of the mob crap. He says when you’ve got a certain amount more is useless and ties you down too much.”

  “Oh? Curacao?” Hugh replied. “I heard it was back to Sicily – but he’d do that I suppose. He’d blend in and could use a new ID.”

  “Well, to tell the truth I got a sort of idea he’s going to be on one of the smaller Greek islands,” Clint answered. “How do you know Marko?”

  Hugh looked like he’d been slapped and mumbled that it was just something he’d heard somewhere. Maybe from Manny.

  “Manny knows Marko?” Clint asked, innocently.

  “I really don’t know,” Hugh said. “It might have been someone else.

  “Have you looked at any of the Pacific-side places? Good investment?” He looked around and waved to a waiter.

  Al smirked at Clint when Hugh was looking at the waiter. Clint raised an eyebrow and smirked back.

  “Oh, Puerto Armuelles is a great little quiet town. Sort of picture postcard sort of place. Have you been in the Chitre area?”

  “Not yet. I’m new here, really. Just moved in and noted you were the one on the news.

  “Waiter! Mr. Faraday will want something, I’m sure!”

  They stayed about an hour more. Clint had the second best New York ribeye steak he’d ever eaten.

  “Oh, Clint!” Al called as they were leaving. “If you’re going to be around the next couple of days we can get together for a drink or two!”

  Clint nodded. “Yeah. Just tomorrow and tomorrow night, minimum. Maybe we’ll meet somewhere. Panamá Bill’s or El Fogón or somewhere.”

  “Great little place I found out on the main! Las Brasas. Out toward the airport,” Al suggested. “It has some great food and isn’t the tourist trap kind of place. Eight o’clock tomorrow night?”

  Clint nodded, but replied, “Well, I don’t think I’ll leave downtown. My business is there. Maybe Bill’s at eight? They have decent food.”

  “Okay. See you then!” Al said, then got in the cab Hugh had flagged. They left.

  So. This turkey was looking for Marko. Marko had made a promise the type would NOT be around to cause the kinds of grief they always did.

  Something else wasn’t quite right. Clint thought a minute, then got a self-satisfied grin on his face.

  “Hi, Judi!” Clint greeted on the phone. Judi Lum was his nextdoor neighbor in Bocas and was the only person there who knew about Manny/Marko beside him. “Listen, Luv. Has anyone asked anything at all about Marko or Manny?”

  “Just a couple of locals who noticed he and his wife had started building a place on Cristóbal. A couple of people saw the construction and asked about it at Bohmfalk’s. Somebody who wanted to know if there was anything else there, seeing others are moving in.”

  “Hmm. Very quietly try to find out about anyone who asks anything, okay?”

  “Will do! What’s going on? Somebody a little bit too curious?”

  “Something like that. Is Manny around much?”

  “Only the times when you were there. He sure doesn’t look like he did when he was here before!”

  They chatted a few minutes, then Clint headed for the catastro. They would have the records he wanted.

  An hour and a half and he knew this Hugh character wasn’t developing anything of any size anywhere in Chiriqui Province – and probably not anywhere else in Panamá. Al, however, had bought a sizeable piece in the area Hugh was supposed to be developing.

  “I wondered how you knew so much about Marko that you’d call me in on something like this!” Clint muttered. He went to MoviStar and bought a new phone. With a camera built in. He programmed it for Judi’s number – which she could receive on her computer.

  He made a few more calls, then went to gossip at Panamá Bill’s. Seems the bartender remembered two people who asked a lot of questions about him. One of the “girls” had spent a night with a guy named Howard who fit the description of Hugh. Perfectly.

  He then went to the hotel to clean up for his “date” at Las Brasas.

  Al showed up about half an hour late, out of breath. He said Hugh had been murdered not more than two hours ago and the policia were questioning him because he had spent some time there earlier.

  “I wonder if it’s that – what was his name? Marko? – found out he was asking so many questions about him and where he’s hiding,” Al confided. “You noted I got you together with him for the express purpose of letting you know someone was asking a lot of questions about him. You think maybe that’s it?”

  “How would Marko even know about it?” Clint asked, looking confused. “I mean, we talked about it, maybe someone in Bocas asked some questions or whatever, but Marko wouldn’t have any way to even know about that – so it couldn’t be him. I’ll call Judi, a friend who knows everything there is to know about what’s happening in Bocas, and see if anyone was asking anything.”

  He took out his phone to make the prearranged call to Judi, who answered. He sent a picture of Al as Al was protesting that there was no reason to get anyone else involved if that was what was going on.

  “Yes?” Judi answered (meaning Al was the one asking questions there). “Oh! Clint! What’s up?”

  “My blood pressure, prices, the temperature. Has anyone there been asking questions about Marko?”

  “Marko who ... oh, him. A couple of people, but I don’t know anything much about him,” she answered. “How the hell would I know where he is?

  “One of them, an Allen or Alex or something, was asking about him and Manny. I do know Manny and spouse are building on Cristóbal now so I told him to go out there and ask them whatever.

  “When you coming back here? Carlos wants to see you. He’s still feeling like he owes you for keeping him out of trouble.”

  Clint noticed that (he had the volume turned up to where Al could barely hear the conversation) Al was very nervous when she was talking about the people asking questions. He answered, “I’ve got a situation here so it’ll probably be a few days. I’ll call later if there’s anything ... oh! Marko gave you his number didn’
t he? What is it?”

  “I can’t tell anyone, but I can call and conference it to your phone and drop out when he answers. Gimme a sec.“

  He waited. Marko soon came on (Judi explained what was going on there before she put Clint on the conference so he wouldn’t say anything) to ask what was the problem.

  “You have a turkey name of Hugh hit here?” Clint asked, making Al almost fall off his chair.

  “Hugh? Hugh who? Why would I have some dink hit down there? Shit! I wish I was there! Weather’s a real stinkeroo here! Damned rain won’t stop – okay, it rains a lot there, but this is cold and miserable and you don’t even pay attention to rain there much.

  “Say, Clint! Maybe this Hugh character crossed that bunch of would-be clowns down there and just dropped my name or somethin’?

  “Like I give a shit. I decided against Curacao. Got a good deal on a place in the Med. I gotta get out of here. Economy’s going to hell with this idiot would-be king of the world who thinks he’s runnin’ things while he’s bein’ run. Be glad you’re down there! If I thought I could stand more than a week of nothin’ to do and nowhere to go I’d move down there. It’s really nice, but I can’t hack the tranquilo bit.

  “Hey! Gino! Who’s that?

  “Got to run. I ain’t hit nobody down there. Nobody down there is worth it but you and Judi – and that’d get me in a pile of shit I’d probably be the next one hit! I’d marry her if she’d have me. Class like I ain’t never had and looks great!

  “Ciao!” He hung up.

  “That’s good ol’ Marko! He talks, you listen!” Clint confided. Al grinned a sick grin.

  “Now I’m getting curious. Maybe I’ll see why Hugh was killed. Maybe ... how was he killed?”

  “Apparently he opened the door for someone and they stuck him dead in the heart before he could move. It seemed like a professional type of thing is why I wondered if that Marko person had him hit. Maybe it was some husband or boyfriend and a lucky stab. He tended to be a bit too crude with women and didn’t care if they were spoken for.”

  “Typical gringo type in a lot of these people’s minds,” Clint agreed. “One like that and everyone has to live it down. He didn’t strike me as a very likeable sort, anyhow. ‘Crude’ describes what I though of him. Not too smart in a lot of ways.

  “Well, I guess I’ll go to the scene of the crime and see what’s there to see! Where is it?”

  “A suite in the Wantril House Hotel.”

  “Cripes!” Clint exclaimed.

  “What?”

  “That’s a mob whorehouse! The local would-be, as Marko calls them, mafia. Crap!”

  “I sort of got that impression. The whorehouse. Too many sexpot women. I just didn’t connect it with any mob.”

  Clint sighed. Everyone in Panamá knows about that place, he thought. You’re overdoing the innocent act.

  “You’re the fellow who caught that gangster for killing that gringo in Bocas, right?” the officer at the door asked. “I’m Antonio Valdez. Tonio. You’re Clint Faraday. Is this connected to that?”

  “Clint will do. I don’t know, but it could be and I’m here in David so I’ll look into it if you don’t object.”

  “So long as you don’t act like those TV jerks or the Jamaican movie detectives, go for it, Mon!” Tonio said with a grin. “Osorio is my cousin. He said you’re really pretty cool and about ten times as smart as you try to look like.” His accent was mildly Jamaican.

  “You learn English from those TV shows and Jamaican movies?” Clint asked, grinning back.

  Tonio laughed and admitted that he had a Jamaican uncle who raised him part of the time and who taught him most of the English he knew.

  The scene was textbook for a professional hit. Clint asked if it could be a lucky stab.

  “Here? Get real, Mon! First place, ain’t no way anyone NOT a pro could get here to stick him. You wouldn’t get past the front door if we weren’t here, Mon! Second place, this guy was a thug from the California mob. Alvin Aaron Myers. San Francisco. Bernardino mob. Rap sheet as long as your arm.”

  “You found that out this fast?”

  “Yo! Phony passport in his pocket, real one in the drawer there. Easy to check, Mon. Stupid thing to do!”

  “Yeah. Too stupid for a professional to do. Someone wanted us to know who and what he was,” Clint pointed out.

  “Why?” Tonio seemed confused.

  “So we wouldn’t look past that. If we did – and I damned well WILL – we might find things they don’t want found.”

  “Such as?”

  “Who he worked for.”

  Tonio looked even more confused. “The Bernardino mob.”

  “I really, really, REALLY don’t think so!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that would bring in another much bigger and stronger mob looking for why he was hit. He was asking too many questions about the wrong person.”

  “Maybe that’s the object? Make it look like that to get at the Barnardino mob?”

  “Uh-huh. Exactly. I think maybe I’ll try to see who in the Bernardino mob crossed them and needs a diversion – like having the whole bunch wiped out.”

  “Better you than me, Mon!”

  Clint gave him the finger. Clint was sure he knew who, but didn’t know who.

  Yet.

  “What did you find?” Al asked.

  “He was hit by a professional, then the place was set up to let us know he was a hit man for the Bernardino mob. We’re supposed to drop it because it was strictly a mob deal and it’s better all around if they handle those things themselves. Saves taxpayers a bundle by not prosecuting something that you can’t hope to get a conviction on anyhow.”

  “I can see that, but you said ‘supposed to,’ so you won’t?”

  “Nope! I want to see how certain people react to a couple of little discrepancies in the case,” Clint explained ... getting a feeling of accomplishment from the look on Al’s face.

  Me, you ain’t gonna manipulate that way, turkey! He thought.

  “But ... but ... I don’t ... discrepancies?”

  “Uh-huh. It’s pretty obvious what this is supposed to accomplish, just not quite clear who’s trying to use it ... or why.

  “Well, I’ll get on back to Bocas!”

  “BOCAS!?! I mean, what’s ... why Bocas?”

  “Because that’s the last thing they’d expect. The answers are there, but they don’t want those answers found,” Clint explained like Al was a slightly retarded child. “At least, SOME of them they don’t want found.

  “Amateurs! Marko had THAT part right! I’ll see you in a few days, I guess. I’ll have to come back here.” He walked off with Al’s mouth hanging open with a dead fish expression on his face.

  “But ... you know who did it?”

  “Yup!”

  Al actually staggered. He looked like he’d have a heart attack any second. That made Clint feel good!

  “Yo, Judi! Got some work to do,” Clint greeted as he got out of his boat onto his deck. “First, a gallon or so of coffee.

  “It’s gonna get hairy, I think. I don’t think they’ll come after you, but be careful. I’m not going to stay here. Maybe I’ll check into the Sagittarius until this is over. Maybe stay with that author character over on sexta. I’m invited. I don’t want this place shot up or firebombed or whatever. I’m used to it and kind of like it as it is.”

  “You know who, but don’t know who? What did you mean by that? You don’t make any sense a lot of the time. I take it you mean you know who did it, but not who for or something? Maybe ... oh. Alias?”

  “Yeah. Either he’s a part of the Barnardino mob or is part of a rival mob who wants them eliminated from competition or whatever. They’re going to manipulate me into getting Marko to do the job for them.”

  “They are?”

  “Uh-huh, but maybe the rival mob gets removed at the same time – or maybe only one or two cruds who think, as Marko says, they can think. I want t
o call Marko first thing and get him to find out who Al really is.”

  “He’s the one who wants to find where Marko is?”

  “Well.... He’s the one who wants Marko to think the Bernardino mob wants to know where he is so they can have him hit.” Clint thought for a minute, then grinned and said he wanted that coffee now. He fixed the pot, then called Marko.

  “Greetings, Marko! Clint Faraday. This one is real.

  “Marko, find out who Al Stewart, the name he’s using here, is and find out if he’s with Bernardino, independent or something else.

  “He’s trying to set Bernardino up for you to knock over for some reason.”

  “Okay. Why the sudden concern for my welfare and that of some dumb shitball like Bernardino? I’m getting through to you?” There was a laugh in his voice.

  “Nah! I want to set it up so you take each other out, making the world a better place for the kids I don’t have any of.” “That you know about,” Marko said quickly. “What’s it about – and are you serious?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t like being manipulated so I’m doing the manipulation. Judi can send you a picture of this Al character. He hit a turkey called Alvin Myers in a whorehouse here and tried to set it up to where we’d think you did it because he was working for the Bernardino mob trying to find you so they could remove you as the major thorn in their side.”

  “Viny Myers? He was working for me. Mole in the Bernardino ... so! Both ends, huh?”

  “Maybe both ends and the middle? It will depend on who Al Stewart really is and who, if anyone, he works for.”

  “Or with. I’ll find out damned fast. Manny will be there with his wife this weekend and I’ll let him bring you whatever news you need to know.

  “Thanks, Clint. I really do plan to go straight there. Swear.”

  “If I didn’t believe that you wouldn’t come here. It would be easy to guarantee that!”

  “If you could see me you’d know you‘re getting the one finger salute! Caio!”

  “Well?” Judi asked.

  “Getting better. Almost.”