CHAPTER 21 - LIGHTS OUT
I leaned against the deck’s railing and smiled down at the old woman.
“I take it that you don’t get many visitors,” I said.
She shook her head.
“No. My health is not what it used to be. Who are you, again?”
“My name is Alton Rhode? The question is, who are you?”
She looked startled. And a bit wary.
“I am Ashleigh Harper,” she said.
It sounded to me like she was exaggerating her Southern accent. I smiled.
“I’m afraid that won’t fly anymore, Bessie.”
She didn’t reply right away. Finally she said, “Shit.”
“And it’s getting very deep, Bessie.”
“You a cop?”
“Private. But the real fuzz won’t be far behind.”
Her hand went below the quilt. I didn’t expect her to come out with a gun, but my own hand drifted toward my holster. I figured I could beat an octogenarian woman to the draw. And if I couldn’t, then I deserved to be shot by an octogenarian woman. But when her liver-spotted hand reemerged, it merely held a pack of cigarettes and a pink Bic lighter.
“I need a damn drink, too,” she said, this time without a trace of an accent. “There’s a bottle of Jack Daniels in the drawer by my bed. A glass, too. And an ashtray. Do you mind?”
I went and found her stash. By the time I got back to the porch, she was smoking like a chimney. I poured her a drink. She knocked back half of it. It was obvious she wasn’t your typical octogenarian, which made me wonder if I could really have beaten her to the draw.
“I don’t know where my manners are,” she said. “There’s another glass in the bathroom.”
“Maybe later. I thought you were a scotch drinker.”
“I like to vary. What made you say that?”
“Anna Dickson said you drank scotch when she was here.”
“Who?”
“Young girl who was with me at that book signing in August. She came back here some weeks later and spoke to you. You gave her a drink and she left quickly when someone came home.”
Bessie Magruder lit another cigarette.
“I remember her. Nice kid. I’m glad she didn’t stick around. I think she was suspicious. I was running out of lies. Is she why you are here?”
“She’s missing.”
Bessie’s eyes widened in surprise. I didn’t think she was acting.
“Since she came to see me?”
“No. She came back later.”
“I never saw her again, after that first visit. She came here when Sandy was out, or she would never have gotten in. I shouldn’t have even spoken to her. But I was going stir crazy and she seemed so sweet.”
“Did you tell Sandy about her visit?
“No. She would have gone ape on me. I can’t believe the kid tried to come back. It was blind luck she got to see me that first time.”
“If you’re telling the truth Bessie, I think her luck ran out. My guess is that she contacted Nidus with her suspicions, or she tried to get here again on her own and they spotted her. Either way, no one has seen her since. I think they killed her, too.”
The “too” rocked her.
“Bessie, surely you don’t think Ashleigh Harper is still alive, do you?”
She finished her drink and held out the glass. I poured.
“I don’t know. They put her in a nursing home. She may have died since.”
“Bessie, this isn’t the kind of scam that works with someone still breathing. And I don’t think Anna Dickson is in a nursing home. Surely you must have suspected something.”
Magruder looked away. When she faced me again, she shrugged.
“I needed the money. There ain’t much work for an old has-been actress.”
I could have pointed out that she couldn’t claim to be a has-been when she never was a “has”, but I let it go.
“How did Nidus find you?”
“Sandy saw me at a dinner theater in Myrtle Beach. I was playing Martha Brewster, one of the nutty old aunts in Arsenic and Old Lace. Good part. One of the best I’ve had in years. Anyway, she came back a few weeks later and asked me if I’d be interested in a private gig. I wasn’t crazy about the idea, but she offered me more money than I make in a year and said if everything worked out, I’d be set for the rest of my life. No more scrounging for parts in the boondocks. I took one look at Harper and knew I could pull it off. We could have been sisters.”
“You know it is a fraud, don’t you?”
“Don’t talk to me about fraud! My whole career I’ve had to struggle against crooks and shysters. It was who you knew and who you blew.” She laughed harshly. “That don’t work for me at my age. Besides, the real Harper was being stupid. And selfish. Who gives a damn if what she wrote years ago was crap. People would buy it. We’d make a ton of money. Everybody would be happy. I didn’t see the real harm in it. You read the papers. You know what’s going on in the world. The people who ruined the economy get bailed out by the Government. I don’t see any of them getting into trouble or going to jail.”
I didn’t want to get into a political discussion with her, in part because she was making some sense. My job was to get justice for Anna Dickson.
“Who else is in on this?”
“Vole. I don’t think it was his idea. He ain’t that bright. But Sandy has him by the short hairs. Jesus, I can hear them screwing all the time.”
I’d suspected Vole. He was the killer in the woodpile.
“Bessie, if you come with me now, and tell the truth, I may be able to help you. If not, I go to the cops, who won’t be so accommodating. They will probably charge you as an accessory to murder, fraud and probably plagiarism. I wouldn’t worry about the plagiarism. There’s a lot of that going around. But the other two charges will probably land you in jail for life. At your age, I don’t think you want to waste your golden years making license plates, although at least the work would be original.”
“What are you talking about? Murder? I didn’t kill anyone.”
“I didn’t say you did. But I’m not sure how involved you are.”
“I told you, I just made believe I was Harper. It was just a role.”
“That’s the point. You’re an actress. I can’t be sure you aren’t acting now. But even if you are, don’t you want to be the first one through the door at the prosecutors’ office. They will cut you a deal, maybe even offer immunity for your testimony. I don’t think anyone will believe you actually killed someone. And there is something else. Nidus knows this thing is unraveling. You’re the only one who can hang both her and Vole. You’re a liability, lady, no matter how you look at it.”
Bessie Magruder’s face lost a bit of color.
“I don’t think Sandy would hurt me.”
She reached for another cigarette, and that’s when I saw it. I grabbed her wrist.
“Where did you get this?”
She heard the menace in my voice and shrank back.
“Vole gave it to me.” She tried to pull her hand back. “You’re hurting me!”
I ignored her and undid the watch that had caught my eye. It was the pink-and-blue Disney watch from Frozen.
“Let’s go,” I said, coldly.
Bessie Magruder started to say something but she saw something in my face. She stood up and started to follow me. I stepped through the sliders. Sandy Nidus was standing across the room by the door to the hallway. I briefly wondered if she planned to give me any trouble. Bessie stopped short and said, “Oh, Christ”.
“Don’t worry,” I said, turning to take her arm.
That’s when I saw Leonard Vole standing against the wall to my right. I’d never heard him. Maybe he was wearing gumshoes. I reached for my revolver. Vole was no octogenarian. I caught a brief glimpse of something long and brown swinging at my head.
CHAPTER 22– ANOTHER BOAT RIDE
I woke up with a searing headache. My face felt puffy and I
had a burning sensation in my right cheek. In fact, my whole right side, on which I was laying, felt kind of funny.
I really didn’t mind the discomfort. The important thing was waking up. The real Ashleigh Harper and Anna Dickson apparently did not have that opportunity.
I knew exactly where I was. Back on Leonard Vole’s boat. A lump on my right thigh stung and I realized that I still had my iPhone in my pocket. I must have fallen on it. I wondered if it still worked. It would be nice to call 911. Unfortunately, that was not an option. My hands were tied behind my back. I could tell from the pain in my wrists that I was bound with something thin but strong. Probably monofilament fishing line.
From the sound of the engine and the deck’s pitching up and down, which caused me to bang my already sore head, She Got the House was moving at a fast clip. I managed to sit up. I was in the stern, scrunched in the corner next to the rotating fisherman’s chair from which I had landed the shark in happier times. There was the same sturdy rod with a massive big-game reel in the holder at the front of the seat. The shiny metal lure anchored by one of its treble hooks to one of the rod’s guides looked even bigger than the one I had used for the tuna. Its wire leader was again linked to regular monofilament fishing line, undoubtedly the same 40-pound-test line that immobilized me. Breaking it would be impossible. All I would accomplish would be to slit my wrists.
I could see the faint lights of Bald Head Island receding in the distance. I was still a bit woozy, and the fact that I had been clobbered over the head and was now trussed up did not bode well for my future prospects. I was pretty sure I was not going fishing. I suspected that I would soon be sleeping with the bluefish, or whatever was running these days.
I moaned, louder than necessary, to give the impression that I was in worse shape than I was. My only chance, slim as it was, depended on my making Vole overconfident.
“Awake, are we?”
He’d come down from the bridge and was standing in front of me, slapping his wooden truncheon in his palm. I didn’t like the sound it made against his meaty hand.
“Is that what you hit me with?”
“Yeah. Just a love tap, but I figured you’d be out for the duration. You have a hard head, pal.”
“Harder than an old woman and a college kid. I assume you used it on the real Ashleigh Harper and Anna.”
“Who?”
“Anna Dickson. The young girl who was at the reception with me.”
“Oh, your niece.”
Vole laughed.
“Actually, I used a pillow on the old coot. She put up a pretty good fight. Better than you did.”
It wasn’t the time to point out that he’d suckered me. But I wanted to keep the conversation going.
“And the girl?”
“Strangled her.”
I stared at him.
“Hey,” he said. “I didn’t do anything else to her, if that’s what you are thinking.”
“Nice to know you have standards, Vole.” I nodded toward the ocean, which set off my headache again. “But why did you have to beat me up, too?”
He looked confused.
“I didn’t beat you up, chum.”
“I’m sure my face would disagree with you.”
He laughed.
“Oh, that. You got pretty banged up when you fell out of the golf cart. I took a turn to fast. Sorry about that.”
“You brought me here in a golf cart?”
“Had to. My boat was at the marina. It was no big deal. Just propped you up and drove to the marina.”
“And nobody noticed?”
“Not too many people around at night. Did pass a couple of carts. Even waved to them.” Vole cackled. “They probably think you were rude because you didn’t wave back. Or just drunk and passed out. Lucky no one was around when you took your dive out of the cart, though.”
“You drive the other two in your golf cart?”
He laughed.
“You mean like Weekend at Bernie’s?” Vole laughed. “They filmed that movie right here on Bald Head. Bet you didn’t know that. Anyway, I took Harper and the kid right off the beach behind the house. Had some time to set it up then. Like I said, my boat was at the marina tonight. Would’ve been tough, anyway. It’s low tide. Dragging your sorry ass across the sand would have been a bitch. You weigh a lot more than those gals. And paddling a skiff past the sandbars would have been no fun.”
“I like talking to you, Len. But I have to ask. Who is driving the boat now?”
“Got it on autopilot.” Vole looked at his watch. “We’re almost there, chum.”
“Almost where?”
He just smiled.
“Burial at sea?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Is that what you did with Harper and Anna?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Bodies occasionally turn up,” I said, “even if they are weighted down.”
In fact, I knew the opposite was more likely, especially when the disposal is in the ocean. Entire airliners with 300 passengers and cargo ships and their crews disappear without a trace.
“Won’t be a problem. With them, or you.”
“Why not?”
“Well, let’s just say that the old broad Harper wanted to be remembered. I don’t think she counted on being dismembered. Same with the girl. I made a mistake with the watch, though. Almost threw it over with it still on her arm. Thought Bessie might like it. That’s what I get for having a soft heart. But it’s going into the ocean soon. Along with Bessie. What do you say to an actress? Break a leg? I’m gonna help her with that.”
My blood ran cold, but I remained calm. The rotten son-of-a-bitch started cackling at his humor. I saw some insanity in his eyes. I was dealing with a real lunatic. Now I was almost sorry that I had kept the conversation going.
“Why Bessie? She said she didn’t know what was going on. Did she?”
“Nah. She would never have gone along with this. But she’s extra weight, now. Too many people gone missing. She’d be with us on the boat right now, but it would have been awkward driving two unconscious people in the golf cart. I’ll have to make another trip. Then me and Sandy are gonna take the money and run. Some nice little non-extradition island in the Pacific, where I can fish and fuck to my heart’s content.”
“I don’t suppose I could talk you out of this?”
“Not a chance, chum. But don’t worry.” Vole again slapped the truncheon into his palm, harder. “You won’t feel a thing.”
“Just do me a favor, will you, Vole?”
He smiled.
“Sure. I guess you can have a last request.” He cackled. “No last meal, though. What is it?”
“Stop calling me chum.”
“I can do that.” Vole got a strange look in his eyes and grinned. “Kind of funny, though. Since that’s what you are about to become. Chum.”
Vole looked behind the boat. Small fish were jumping.
“The lights are attracting a lot of bait fish. Sharks will be right behind them. Come to think of it, you get to be your own last meal.” He looked at his watch again. “Jesus. You made me miss my spot. Be right back. I’ve got to come about. Now, don’t go anywhere.”
He climbed the ladder and a moment later I felt the boat turn. I knew I only had moments to live. Once he hit me over the head again, I was a dead man. And I was not too sure that his idea of anesthetic would work on someone being cut up into fish bait. I had only one chance. I had to make him mad enough to want to carve me up alive. I moaned at the thought.
This time, I wasn’t acting.
CHAPTER 23 - CHUM
A few minutes later the boat slowed, and then started wallowing in gentle swells. Vole had put the engine on idle. He turned on some floodlights that lighted the rear of the boat and the surrounding water. He came down the ladder and went over to some sort of storage locker. He started piling knives and other utensils on the deck. I was about to be butchered.
“I can see by your tattoo
that you were a SEAL, Vole.”
“Goddamn right. One of the best.”
He still had his back to me. I could hear the pride in his voice. And something else.
“I was in the Army,” I said. “Special Forces.”
“What? You trying to bond with me?” He snorted. “You guys were fucking pussies.”
“Why did they kick you out of the SEALS?”
Now he turned around.
“Who says they kicked me out? I retired.”
“To run a fishing boat? Nah. You got bounced. What was it? Mental discharge. You fuck too many goats. Suck too many camel dicks. Those are about the only reasons the SEALS would bounce a guy like you. Unless.”
He walked toward me. His hands were empty. No truncheon. And, thankfully, no carving knife. But the fact that his hands looked like ham hocks mitigated whatever relief I felt.
“Unless what?”
“Unless you just bullshitted me, Vole. I bet you were a washout. No disgrace in that. SEALS take only the toughest. How far did you get before you rang the bell?” I laughed. Not easy to do when you’re about to be turned into pork chops. “I bet you didn’t even go to SEAL training. Man, I hate it when guys make up stories. Pretend they are veterans. I bet you have a whole drawer full of medals you bought at one of those military supply shops they have down here. Probably put them on to help you get a boner, right?”
Vole straddled my legs, reached down and grabbed me by my shirt. He lifted my face to within inches of his. There was spittle on his lips. His breath would have sunk the Lusitania.
“Listen, you cocksucker. I ain’t gonna knock you out before I slice you up. I’m gonna dice you in little fuckin’ pieces. By the time you die, you’re gonna be able to see all your body parts in neat little piles. I was the best fucking SEAL in my outfit. They drummed me out on some bullshit charge, cause I wasted a couple of towel heads they said were on our side. Informants, they said. Maybe they should have told me. All them fuckin’ ragheads looked the same to me.”
Vole started lowering me back to the deck. I went limp, as if I was spent and helpless. It was my chance. He was overconfident. Killing old women and kids will do that to you. He should have tied up my legs. My right knee came up and caught him squarely in the groin. I don’t think anyone keeps a record of that sort of thing, but it certainly was a personal best for me. I probably only imagined the squish of his balls. But I didn’t imagine his howl of pain, which probably could be heard in Bermuda.
TURTLE DOVE (Alton Rhode Mysteries Book 7) Page 13