by Kit Crumb
”Let’s get out of here before the phone rings again.”
Jake was headed across the living room. “Let’s take my car, I’ve got spotlights, flares and an extra pair of waders.”
He threw the dead bolt and they were down the walk to Jake’s Land Rover. When he turned off Clamshell, Buck looked in the back seat at all the equipment. “What did you say the extra waders are for?”
Jake looked over at him. “I didn’t. Fill me in on the thermite.”
“Most of what’s left of the hotel is too hot to enter, but they were able to get into the lobby where they found a canister filled with a thermite-type composition. Based on the smoldering hot spots they think there were about twenty-five of the canisters. The one they found must have been out of sequence because the two wires needed to provide the electrical charge for ignition were still attached but burned through.” Buck looked over at Jake. “And you said you saw two wires going up a tunnel in the back of the cave?”
“I heard that stuff really burns hot,” Jake said.
“Two thousand degrees,” Buck said. “We need to swing buy Ramos’s place and pick up some things. They aren’t going to cast his ankle until tomorrow and they threw away his clothes. I don’t suppose you have a camera back there. I’d love to get a picture of him in a gown.”
By the time they turned onto Gull Road, both men were aware that they were losing their window for entering the cave at low tide. Buck ran his fingers above the door jam until he found the key, and then turned to Jake. “You hit the bathroom and I’ll get his clothes.”
Within minutes they were back in the car, headed for the hospital. As they entered the hospital lobby the elevator door opened. They sprinted the twenty feet, the doors just closing as Buck entered. Jake pushed the button for the second floor. “What room?”
“209,” Buck said. “Let’s make this quick.”
“That was fast. I just hung up the phone,” Ramos said.
Jake headed into the bathroom with the paper bag of clothes and toiletries, while Buck pulled up a chair.
“The Fire Marshall called, said something about a sub basement,” Ramos said.
Buck looked up at Jake who had returned to the foot of the bed. “There used to be a house where the hotel was built,” Jake said.
Ramos gave a shout. “I knew it, the remnants of a garden, the toy wheel, the steps. Great, but what does that have to do with the cave?”
Jake pulled out his notebook. “The Yamoto family lived in the house and it was directly over the cave, and yesterday when I was checking it out I spotted two wires going up a vertical tunnel.”
Ramos reached over to the nightstand and picked up the telephone, setting it on his lap. “Anybody from the Yamoto family still alive?”
Jake glanced up from his notebook. “The youngest son, Tyre.”
He picked up the handset and dialed. “You guys head to the cave, I’m going to run Tyre Yamoto through NCIC.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
THE BEACH IN FRONT OF THE CAVE was littered with boulders from the base of the bluff to the water’s edge. Some were stacked, the tops never getting wet. Others half buried in the sand were covered with barnacles and starfish. The entrance to the cave was as high as a locomotive with a smokestack and half again as wide. Unlike many caves up and down the Oregon coast this one remained high and wide for nearly thirty feet.
Buck peered over the nearly vertical bluff, looking at the cave below. “Is there any other way to get to the beach?”
Jake shook his head as he pounded a stake into the ground. “Not without a boat.”
“What’s around the point?”
Jake tied a loop in the end of the rope and dropped it over the stake, “Another beach.”
Buck tossed the waders over the edge and watched them hit the sand below. “Accessible?”
“Worse than this one, privately owned,” Jake said. “I’ll go first.”
He watched Jake repel down the bluff face, not even trying to use the steps. Jake released the rope and stepped into his waders as Buck pulled it up, tied on the lights and the bag of flares. He extended his arm out so the cargo on the end of the rope wouldn’t bang into the rock. “Heads up!”
He was less adept at repelling than Jake, hanging vertically instead of using his feet to push off.
“The steps are covered with pickle weed. Hard to imagine someone coming down without a rope,” Buck said, once he reached the beach and stood next to Jake.
“And he probably climbed down at night,” Jake said
They walked between two boulders, toward the cave, bending to the incline of the beach.
“I’ve been doing some math, and if Tyre is our man, he’d be in his mid-sixties by now,” Buck said.
They stopped at the foot of the cave. He flicked on his light. “Kind of spooky.”
“You’re telling me? I went in alone at dusk,” Jake said.
Buck glanced at his watch, turned and looked at the lapping waves and tried to gauge the rising tide. “Probably have less then an hour. Looks like the incline keeps it fairly dry at low tide.”
Water oozed from the sand under the pressure of their weight as they walked up the center of the cave. The sandy floor was slightly inclined but flat. They shined their lights on the opposite walls for anything that looked out of place. Every couple of feet they stopped to examine the ceiling.
“Look at that,” Buck said, moving his light in a small circle.
Jake moved a little closer to the wall and pointed his light inside Buck’s circle.
“It looks like a metal loop staked to the wall,” Buck said.
“What? That’s like eight feet off the floor!”
Buck panned the wall, shining his light from right to left. “Judging from the rust I’d say it’s steel, and from its size, meant to hold something big.”
“Look here,” Jake shined his light on the opposite wall and then on the back wall. “And here.”
Buck moved to the back of the cave and climbed up on a boulder to touch the steel loop. “Somebody was suspending something pretty big alright.”
Jake climbed on the boulder next to Buck’s. “I think this is where I was when I saw the box.” He looked down and to his right. “And that’s where I fell. My head was toward the entrance so the rising tide went down my neck.”
He climbed off the boulder and lay down on the sand. “Watch the tide for me.” He tilted his light up the wall, back and forth, but couldn’t find the box.
“I think you’re on my boulder,” Jake said.
Buck shined his light in Jake’s face. “Excuse me.”
“I wasn’t this close to the wall when I fell, I must have fallen off your boulder.”
They traded places with Jake pretending to fall off the boulder again. He lay on his back. “Bingo.”
Buck followed his light.
Jake climbed to his feet careful to keep his light trained on the box.
“It’s got to be twenty feet up there,” Buck said. “Somebody was standing on something to reach it, and I don’t think it was a ladder.”
Jake aimed his light at the ceiling. “Tunnel and wires should be up here somewhere. Ceiling soaks up the light like a sponge.”
Buck drew a circle around the ceiling with his light. “Are you sure about this tunnel?” He placed a hand to the back of his neck. “I’ve seen a dozen shadows that could have been a tunnel.”
“Watch your eyes,” Jake said, striking a flare.
Buck clicked off his flashlight. The flare cast a yellowish light on the ceiling that revealed every stone. “There it is,” Buck said. “Clear as day.”
Jake lit two more flares, stuck one in the sand floor and laid the other on an outcropping of rock on the back wall. “More steps.”
“If you want to call them that,” Buck said. He walked over to the wall directly under the tunnel, climbed on a boulder and stood on tiptoe while he stretched to reach the first step.
“Hey, these have lip
s. I can get both hands on this first step if you give me a boost.”
Jake ran over and placed one of Buck’s feet on his shoulder.
“Man, you need to go on a diet.”
He was grunting with the effort but managed to climb three steps in a rush before having to rest.
Jake tried to look past Buck up the tunnel. “What do you see up there?”
Buck held himself tight against the wall with the tips of his fingers, his face pressed up against the space between steps. Slowly, and with great care, he tilted his head up. “The bottom of the next step.”
Jake looked at the tide lapping at the mouth of the cave. “Climb on down and we’ll get a ladder and some climbing stuff and return at low tide.”
In a fit of an adrenalin rush, Buck climbed to the mouth of the tunnel.
“Douse the flares.”
Jake turned them upside down, shoving the flaming magnesium end in the sand, plunging the cave into darkness. Buck clamped his eyes shut, knowing when he opened them they’d have adjusted.
“Now shine your light directly above my head, looks like I have a cable up here.”
The light illuminated a twisted length of cable the thickness of a broom handle wrapped in leather. He gave it a tug then pulled himself into the mouth of the tunnel. He braced his back against one wall, using the cable to support his feet and free his hands, knees half way to his chest, he pulled the flashlight from the front pocket of his waders and shined it up the shaft.
“There’s something up here about another twenty feet, could be a beam.”
Jake was shining his light up trying to see what Buck saw but the illumination didn’t go past the cable and his feet.
“Watch out,” Buck said.
He reached into the front pocket and extracted a flare, and held it to one side. Looking away, he struck it with the cap until it ignited. With a flick of his wrist he sent it upwards, tumbling end-over-end. His first glimpse was orientation. As gravity took over and the flare began to fall, he had a second chance to examine the shaft.
“Shit!”
Jake stood directly under the shaft and watched the spinning flare until the last minute, then stepped aside letting it fall to the floor where it sizzled out in two inches of water.
Buck adjusted his position a little. “I think we’ve got a body up there.”
Jake sloshed back under the tunnel in an effort to hear. “What do you see?”
Buck’s flashlight only penetrated about six feet. “Not sure, I thought I saw a shoe and a leg.”
Pressing with his feet to keep his back against the opposite wall, he slowly crabbed up the tunnel until he was just below two legs protruding from a horizontal shaft.
“Looks fresh, probably one of the occupants forced down here by the fire.”
He half crabbed, half slid up until he was level with the body, “Looks female.”
He was tired from keeping the tension in his legs and was looking for a way to cross the tunnel and enter the horizontal shaft. He nearly lost his footing when his light shone across the hand and reflected off a ring of pearl and red corral depicting a tiger and dragon. Buck caught his breath.
“M.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
MARK LIMA WAS GETTING NERVOUS, hoping M would arrive before the new machines. When the phone rang, he snapped it up thinking it was her calling to say she was on her way.
“Black Dragon Studio and Gym, how may I help you?”
He hung up the phone then picked it up pressing intercom. “All staff to the front, the new machines are arriving. All staff to the front.”
Mark fingered the credit card in his back pocket. Even though the equipment was leased, M was still required to send a small check in advance of delivery and pay another ten percent when they arrived.
Andy was outside standing between the cones that reserved the curb space. The forklift rolled out of the rear of the truck, down a ramp and through the double doors into the studio with inches to spare on either side. The machines sat on pallets wrapped in foam and cellophane. As each one came through the door on the forklift, Mark would read the label and direct the driver. Two others would be waiting to help orient the machine. It was a slow process, but in the end the various weight and pulley machines would end up right where they belonged. Usually M liked to direct each placement herself so he figured she must be caught up in the police investigation of the murders.
When the final piece of equipment was unloaded, Mark walked outside to meet with the driver, but as he stepped from the building, the truck drove away. Andy met him at the curb.
“What do you think of that? They took off before I could pay,” Mark said.
Andy looked down the street. “I guess they just circled the block.”
Mark watched the approaching truck put on its blinkers and got out of the way so it could park between the cones. The two managers walked to the rear of the truck, standing to one side as the forklift drove down a ramp. They stepped around and looked in at twelve weight stack and pulley machines wrapped in foam and cellophane waiting to be unloaded. The burley forklift driver walked up next to them, looking first at the machines then through the window into the gym. “Sure you got room for another twelve?”
Mark shook his head. “There’s been a mistake. Let me pay the ten percent for the ones delivered and take these back.”
The driver scratched his stomach. “No can do. I gotta drive to Spokane and make a pickup, truck’s gotta be empty.”
Mark turned to Andy. “Try her apartment again then call the Sheriff’s department.” Then he said to the driver, “How would you like to take a break?”
He smiled at Mark. “That I can do.”
Mark turned around to find the staff out on the sidewalk, some in the street looking at the second load of machines.
“Alright, as long as you’re out here, we’ve got about thirty minutes to get ready.”
Everyone followed him inside and into the back mat room.
“We’re going to roll up the mats and line the far wall with the new machines. But don’t unwrap them, we’ll send them back as soon as this is ironed out.”
Moving the machines went faster without the need to place them in a particular order, orienting and unwrapping them.
He watched the driver load the forklift back into the truck, then headed inside.
“Okay, I was told you’d have a credit card. If I could use your phone I’ll call our card service center,” the driver said.
Mark felt a wave of relief when he handed over the card. At least he’d have the ten percent paid for. When M showed up he’d let her sort out the double order; that’s what it had to be.
The driver set the phone down but didn’t hang up. “Rejected. You gotta ‘nother card? ”
Mark shoved the card back in his hip pocket. “How about a company check?”
“Sorry, no can do. Certified checks only.”
Mark wasn’t sure what to do next. “I’ve got someone looking for the owner right now, if you could just wait around. I’m sure she’s on her way.”
“I’m outta time, pal. Gotta be in Spokane by tomorrow afternoon. Tell ya what I will do, though. In exactly five minutes, I call the cops and have ‘em put a lock on your door until I get my money.”
“Thank God,” Mark said.
The driver turned around following Mark’s gaze, thinking it might be the owner. But he knew the owner to be a woman and the only person coming through the door was a short, pudgy, slightly balding, man. He turned back to Mark and reaching for the phone said, “Sorry, pal, gotta call the cops on this.”
The pudgy man had dashed up and snatched the phone away. “That won’t be necessary.”
The driver stood to his full six feet. “Look, I don’t want no trouble here, but unless I get my money, I’m calling the cops.”
He took a step toward the shorter man, who was now surrounded by three black belts. The man reached inside his coat and pulled out a wallet, extracted a cred
it card and held it out to the driver. “No trouble. Run this one.”
Looking from one black belt to the next, he warily took the card. The little man then handed him the phone. Everyone listened as the driver made the call. Turning, he handed the card back. “Card’s good, bill’s covered. Name says, Ned Scott. You the owner?”
“No,” Scott said. The owner’s attorney.”
The driver stammered out a pleased to meet you as he shook the attorney’s hand. Staff and students parted as the driver left.
Scott walked the shaken manager into the office, deposited him in an overstuffed chair. Then continued around to the business side of the oak desk and sat down. “What’s going on?”
Mark took a deep breath and made a short bow from the shoulders. “I’m so glad to see you Mr. Scott.” He took another breath and gathered his thoughts. “It started with what I think is a double order of new equipment. M left me a credit card in case she didn’t get here in time, but when he called it in, it was declined.”
Scott frowned. “That’s impossible, she has more than enough funds.”
“I don’t know, sir. After she got out of the hospital she took me, Andy, and big Jake out for lunch and that credit card was turned down, too.”
Scott rocked back in his chair, listening. When Mark finished he rocked forward and folded his hands resting them on the desk blotter.
“I’m not at liberty to explain, so you’ll have to trust me when I say that Mary Malmstrom has plenty of money. If any of her credit cards were declined it was a mistake.”
Mark sat up straighter and gave a sigh. “I believe you, sir, but when that driver wouldn’t take a company check and threatened to lock us up, I didn’t know what to do.”
Scott walked around and patted him on the shoulder. “You did just fine. Do you know where Mary is now?”
Mark half smiled, he wasn’t used to hearing her called by her first name.
“I sent Andy to call the sheriff’s office. She was helping on the murders. But that was a couple of hours ago.”
Scott paused at the office door. “Are you going to be alright?”
He joined the attorney at the door. “Yes, sir.”
“Good, then business as usual. Lock up at the regular time. If I locate Mary before then, I’ll give you a call.”