Hook, Line, and Homicide

by Mark Richard Zubro

  Fifteen minutes out, Phil slowed. The boat’s running lights illuminated a half-moon path ahead. Turner looked behind. He saw a pinpoint of light following.

  Phil said, “We’re being followed again.”

  “Same guys?”

  “Can’t tell so far.”

  “One boat or two?”

  “There’s only one light. This is more dangerous. I know these waters but there are rocks. We hit one at any speed, we could have trouble. We have to assume these guys mean business. I won’t take any chances. This needs to stop.”

  Turner said, “It’s not just someone on the lake?”

  “No. They’re following.”

  “How far behind are they?” Turner asked.

  “Half a mile.”

  “You’re slowing down.”

  “I want them to catch up a little more.”

  The light behind them grew: a quarter, a half-dollar, a sun rising. The light bobbed in the waves. Soon he could see the outline of the boat. The moonlight helped cast their shadows on the water.

  Phil jammed the throttle down. Their boat leapt away. Turner barely saw the rocks they zigzagged between. The boat was at full speed. The wind whipped his jacket. Kevin stood next to Phil. He saw them shout to each other. Turner realized that Kevin must know these waters as well.

  Through the black night they raced. The boat behind fell slightly farther behind. Turner felt their craft slow almost imperceptibly. The distance remained constant for ten minutes.

  He saw flashes of light on the other boat. He knew what they were. Gunshots. One thudded into the seat in front of which he was standing. He pointed this out to Phil, who nodded. Turner looked back. More flashes.

  Half a minute later, he saw Kevin point. Phil moved the wheel slightly. The boat rocked a trifle sideways. Turner thought he heard a rough scrape through the noise. Then they were speeding on.

  It was over in seconds. The boat behind them held on true. One second the light was following them, the next it veered toward the sky. A terrific explosion was followed by a billow of red and yellow flames.

  Phil slowed immediately. In the quiet Phil said, “We’ve got to see if there are any survivors.”

  Turner nodded.

  It took a minute for the boat to make the arc through the water back to where remnants of the explosion flamed, sizzled, or sank. Phil cut the motor down to nearly idle. They inched as close as they could to the scene. The three of them scanned the water for survivors.

  The nose of the attacking boat pointed straight up. The midsection was caught on a rock. Patches of oil still burned on top of the water. Turner could feel the heat from the burning wreckage as it smoldered and flickered. They motored slowly around the perimeter of the flaming debris.

  Three minutes later the remnants of the boat slipped off the rock and into the lake.

  The three of them took flashlights from the storage container near the back of the boat. They shone them on the water. They circled again. Nothing so far. They started around again.

  Turner looked back the way they had come. “There’s someone else,” he said.

  Phil and Kevin looked. The boat was not coming as fast. Phil touched the gun in the holster under his arm.

  In a few minutes the new arrival showed up. No shots were directed at them. Phil stood ready to jam the throttle down.

  “It’s Ralph Bowers,” Turner said. Was this a second wave of attackers? Ralph drove a much simpler craft with an out-board motor. Ralph pulled alongside their boat. Since theirs was much larger, Turner eased himself down into it.

  “We had some problems,” Turner said.

  Ralph nodded. “I was trying to help. I knew they were after you. I tried to keep track of them. I can’t go as fast.”

  “We’re looking for survivors.”

  “I’ll help.”

  Turner stayed with Ralph’s boat. If possible, he didn’t want Kevin to be seen. The two boats shone lights down onto the surface. He and Ralph found three bodies drifting with the current. They hoisted them onto Ralph’s boat. The bodies were badly charred and burned.

  Ralph said, “It’s Doran, Nagel, and Verinder.”

  “They’re dead,” Turner said.

  They heard a noise on the port side. A hand reached up over the gunwale. Ralph and Turner rushed over. They helped Dunsmith into the boat. The back of his skull looked crushed. One arm hung at an odd angle. His clothes were burned. His flesh had been seared. He gasped for breath. They eased him into the bottom of the boat so he could stretch out. Dunsmith alternately shivered and screamed.

  The larger boat pulled close. Phil came over with a medicine kit. Turner looked up. Kevin was at the helm of the other boat. There was little they could do about him being seen, but Ralph seemed to pay no attention.

  Turner said, “We have to get him to a doctor.”

  “I don’t think he’ll live that long,” Phil said, “but we can try.”

  Dunsmith screamed, “Help me!”

  Turner held the man’s hand. Dunsmith said, “I told them not to. I told them not to.”

  “Told them not to what?” Turner said.

  Dunsmith spoke between gasps. “Not to follow you. They wanted to kill you. I couldn’t say no. I had to go along. They’d have attacked me, too. They hated you. They were going to hurt your kids, but there were too many people around. We saw you leave.”

  “The other three are dead,” Turner said.

  Dunsmith raised his arm and grabbed Turner’s sleeve. He clutched at him. His back arched in agony. He slumped back. He stopped breathing. He died.

  Phil, Ralph, and Turner stood up. The four corpses and the three of them made the smaller boat feel cramped.

  Phil said, “We’ll have to take them back to town.”

  “I will,” Ralph said. “You’ve got business.”

  Phil said, “There’s a marina only a few minutes to our south.”

  “I know where everything is,” Ralph said. “I’m fine. I’ll contact the police. You go on. It was an accident. They happen.”

  Phil and Turner returned to their boat. They watched Ralph’s craft motor away.

  “Did he see you?” Turner asked Kevin.

  “He didn’t look this way,” Kevin said.

  On the dock at Mrs. Talucci’s brother’s, one of the hunky help was showing Mrs. Talucci a Jet Ski. She had on a life jacket. Turner nearly smiled. It would be like Mrs. Talucci to want to ride one of the machines, at night no less. He wasn’t sure she was strong enough to control the machine. He was not about to tell her that she wasn’t. Two powerful flood-lights illumined the scene.

  Mrs. Talucci approached his boat as they docked. She waved and smiled. Then she saw that something was wrong.

  Paul and Kevin stepped onto the pier.

  Mrs. Talucci said, “Come up to the house.”

  She led them away. She asked no questions.

  Once on the veranda, Kevin said, “I need to use the washroom.” He left them.

  Mrs. Talucci sat on the two-seater swing. She patted the spot next to her.

  Paul sat down. He gazed at the lake and the trees.

  Mrs. Talucci said, “You’re okay? The boys are okay? Ben is okay?”

  Paul nodded. He listened to the birds and the leaves and the breeze. If he listened hard enough, Turner thought he might be able to hear the moonlight on the lake. He shook his head. “I’ve got a decision to make.”

  It was Mrs. Talucci’s turn to nod. “How can I help?”

  “I have information the police could use.”

  Mrs. Talucci looked toward the door through which Kevin had entered the house and then looked back at Paul. Her shrewd eyes had a knowing look.

  “You’re not going to tell them, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Of course not.”

  “It’s not that I don’t know what to do, it’s that what I know is the right thing to do is hard.”

  “It usually is,” Mrs. Talucci said.

  The
silence built between them. Paul heard voices inside the house. Dominic was gushing about how happy he was to have a surprise visit from Kevin. Dominic shuffled onto the veranda. He was leaning on Kevin’s arm. He smiled at Paul. “So good of you to come back,” he said. He saw the look on their faces. He let himself be led into a chair. After he plopped down, he sighed.

  Kevin said, “I’m going down to the pier.”

  Turner caught his gaze and stood up.

  Kevin said, “I’m not going to do anything foolish.” For an instant he hugged Turner fiercely. Paul returned the embrace. In a moment it was over and Kevin left. At the pier the teenager began helping Phil scrub down the boat. Pierre came out and sat next to Dominic.

  Dominic looked at Turner then at his sister. “Something is wrong,” he stated.

  Turner said, “I’ve solved Scarth Krohn’s murder.”

  Dominic nodded. He did not look out at where Kevin was standing knee-deep in the water next to the boat. He kept his eyes on Paul’s. Dominic said, “They weren’t connected with the other six drownings?”

  “No. Those were genuine accidents,” Turner said.

  Dominic said, “You aren’t going to tell the police.”

  “No,” Paul said.

  “But that’s not your problem,” Dominic said.

  “What is?” Mrs. Talucci asked.

  “I have to be able to tell my sons something. Brian knows or at least can make some good guesses. Jeff is not stupid. I don’t want something this big to hang between us.”

  Dominic said, “Parents keep secrets. Sometimes it is necessary to protect the children from the truth.”

  “Brian is old enough to handle the truth most of the time.”

  “Will he understand the truth this time?” Dominic asked.

  “I think so. I hope so.”

  Mrs. Talucci said, “If you know, Fenwick will have guessed.”

  “He doesn’t have a crucial piece of evidence, but yes, he’ll probably guess. If he doesn’t already know.”

  “Tell him,” Mrs. Talucci said. “Just tell him. And tell Brian.”

  Paul smiled at his old friend. He said, “At the moment I have the burden of truth. Do I have a right to inflict that on them? If I tell, one secret of mine is traded for theirs and mine.”

  Dominic said, “Brian will know?”

  Paul said, “I think he does already. I will have to talk to him. Another question is what happens to—”

  Dominic said, “We can make a place for Kevin here. He’ll be safe. He can earn money and go to college. We have more money than we ever dreamed of. Pierre inherited quite a bit, and, as I said earlier, we saved and scrimped for years. We’ve earned a few comforts. We’ve earned the right to be generous.”

  “He should also be tested for diseases,” Paul said. “Scarth never used a condom. Most likely he’ll need psychological help.”

  Pierre said, “We will make sure he gets everything he needs.”

  Paul said, “I’m also worried about someone being falsely accused of the murder. Billy Morningsky is still in jail. I’m not going to turn Kevin in, but I don’t want someone innocent to suffer.”

  Dominic said, “I will take care of it. Billy will be out of jail before you return.”

  Turner looked at him. “You have that much influence?”

  “I have enough. Pierre and Phil are attorneys. They will make sure everything is taken care of legally. Legal mechanisms will be in place, both for while we are alive, and after we die, so that every contingency is covered. There will be no threat to Kevin. There will be no threat to anyone who is innocent.”

  “Thank you,” Turner said.

  Mrs. Talucci said, “Can you tell us why Scarth died?”

  “Because a young gay man finally said, ‘Enough is enough, I am not going to take it anymore.’ Because the Matthew Shepards of this world have taught every gay person a lesson. All the lawsuits filed by gay kids in schools about being harassed have taught us a lesson. Because we learned from Stonewall that we must fight back. Because we have learned that if we do not fight back, we will be victims forever. Because the constant punishment hurts too much. Somebody finally put an end to an enemy capable of enormous evil. I wish Kevin had made a different choice, but…”

  “What choice was there?” Mrs. Talucci asked.

  Paul thought a long time. He gazed at the trees, the lake. He shut his eyes and listened to the world of the forest. “None,” Paul said. “None. Absolutely none.”

  Dominic said, “It was self-defense.”

  Pierre said, “Very much so.”

  “Then your questions are answered,” Mrs. Talucci said.

  The silence built again. Dominic and Pierre rocked. Finally, Dominic said, “I’d better get Kevin settled in.”

  “He has no family left in Cathura,” Turner said.

  “All the easier,” Dominic said. “We will take care of him.” He eased himself out of his chair. Turner offered to help. “No,” Dominic said. “I think I’ll walk down to the lake and see what Kevin is up to.” He began his slow shuffle toward the pier. Pierre joined him. Kevin spotted them and hurried forward. Dominic leaned heavily on Kevin’s arm.

  Mrs. Talucci said, “Are you all right?”

  “Not yet.”

  She nodded and said, “You will be.”

  “I suspect so. I’m not going to turn him in.” He let out a deep breath. “It feels so right to say that.”

  Mrs. Talucci said, “It’s the right decision.”

  “I have to talk to Brian.”

  “If I can help with anything, let me know.”

  39

  Phil led Turner and the houseboat back through the night. Turner arrived back about four in the morning. Glimmers of dawn crept around the branches of the trees. A few birds were calling. The humidity was back, as was the warmth.

  Ben hurried out of the Fenwicks’ houseboat. Turner saw Fenwick and Madge appear at the door.

  After docking Paul pulled Ben into a powerful embrace. He felt the warmth and assurance of his lover’s arms. When they unclenched a bit, Ben asked, “Are you okay?”

  “It’s been a hell of a night. I need to talk to everybody.”

  They returned to the Fenwicks’ houseboat. Buck and Madge expressed their concern. Paul said, “We’ll talk as soon as I check on the kids.”

  Brian was asleep in a chair in the small living room. A book was open on his chest. Paul looked in on Jeff, who was asleep on the Fenwicks’ bed. He ruffled his son’s hair and kissed his forehead. Brian awoke as Paul passed back from the bedroom.

  “What’s going on, Dad?” Brian asked.

  “I’d like you to come up on the top deck with everyone else.”

  Ian was stretched out between two lawn chairs on the screened-in area of the top deck. He awoke as the others shuffled in.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  Brian asked, “What’s happened to Kevin?”

  Turner said, “I need to tell all of you what has happened.”

  Paul sat with his back to the rising sun. Brian sat next to him. Madge sat across. Fenwick stood behind her. Ian and Ben were near the door. It was a comfortably close atmosphere.

  He told the story. When he finished, Fenwick said, “The other four are dead.”

  Paul nodded.

  Madge said, “You must have been terrified.”

  Paul said, “When I have time to think about it, I might be.” He turned to Buck Fenwick. “I’m sorry I didn’t show you what I found in the car.”

  “No need for an apology,” he said. “I would have done the same.”

  “I’m not going to tell the police what I know. I’m not going to turn him in. I couldn’t live my life not having told the five of you. It’s a huge secret that would come between us. Buck, because we share a profession. Madge, because you are a dear friend. Ben, because we share a life. Brian, you’re my son.”

  “What will happen to him?” Brian asked.

  “He’ll live with Mrs
. Talucci’s brother for a while. It may take him some time to sort out his feelings. There’s no question it was self-defense. Maybe he could have stopped after Scarth passed out when he was holding him down. Maybe. And I think Scarth would have killed him sometime.”

  Fenwick said, “As Watson said to Holmes in The Abbey Grange, ‘I trust your judgment.’”

  Turner felt a smile tug at his lips. He didn’t remember when he’d smiled last.

  Paul turned to Brian. He said, “Can you possibly understand why I’m not turning him in?”

  “Yeah,” Brian said. “Like Mr. Finch at the end of To Kill a Mockingbird. Kevin told me sometimes how bad it got. I’m sorry I couldn’t have done more.”

  The sun was nearly full up and the world was brighter than it had been.

  “You’ve had a rough night,” Madge said.

  Ian said, “I couldn’t be gladder of a story I’m never going to get to write.” He patted Paul on the shoulder.

  Ben said, “It’s the right decision.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Thanks, everybody,” Paul said. “I think I want to eat something and then sleep for a while.”

  He stood up. Brian put his arms around him. Paul hugged back. Brian said, “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you, too,” Paul said.

  It was a hugging moment. Ian finally said, “If this gets any sappier, I’d think I was at a group hug at the end of a Golden Girls episode.”

  “You watch those?” Fenwick asked.

  “Every rerun I can,” Ian said. “I thought you’d love them. It’s your kind of humor.”

  “I do love them,” Fenwick said.

  Paul waited for the others to trudge out. Everyone was tired with the all-night vigil. Fenwick nudged Paul’s sleeve. The two paused for a moment at the edge of the deck and looked out at the dawn.

  After several minutes Fenwick said, “You see the problem?”

  “Yeah. Oh, yeah.” Fenwick waited. Turner finally said, “I only have Kevin’s word for what happened. I have no proof his story is true.”

  “What are you going to do?”