The Great Paddleboard Race (George Bailey Detectve Series Book 3)

by Mike Hershman

  “Let’s go get our dinghy and motor out there as soon as we drop this off.” Walt said.

  Walt pedaled back to my house while I sat on top of our bamboo trailer. It was fun, sort of like I was in a parade. I waved at people as we raced down the street. Walt was pedaling hard, standing up, his hair blowing back while I leaned forward into the wind sitting on the trailer.

  “It’s fun to ride back here.” I yelled.

  “Yeah, next time I’ll make you pedal and I’ll sit back there.”

  We both knew how good that would work. When we got back to my house we loaded our dinghy and the motor on to the trailer and pedaled back down to the pier. We carried the boat down the steep ramp to the dinghy dock, carefully lowered the dinghy –then clamped on our 1925 - 5 horse Johnson outboard. It had been in storage all winter and took a while to get started.

  By the time we motored out to the “Crocodile” -- it was gone.

  “Damn, I wonder where they went?” I said. “ It’s too late to go fishing.”

  “Maybe they keep it somewhere else.” Walt said, “ I don’t remember seeing it around here – ‘course there’s lots of boats in the harbor and I wasn’t looking for it before.”

  “Yeah, let’s just leave the boat locked up at the dinghy dock for a few days.”

  “We’ll need to lock it – somebody might take it.” Walt said.

  We ran up to Mel’s hardware for a length of chain to attach to the boat. While Mel was cutting it I walked over to the paint section. I’d already grabbed an old padlock and key from my garage.

  “Mel,” I asked, “ which paint do you use for paddleboards?”

  “There’s a chart right there with the different colors – it’s Keel Bright marine paint – the guys in the race all liked it. I sold a bunch the week before the race.”

  I looked at the chart, there was a red that matched Jellyfish Johnson’s and a blue like the one ‘Four Eyes’ used.

  “Could I have a sample of each one – I may want to paint my dinghy?”

  Mel went into the back and came out with an extra color chart.

  “I thought you liked our dinghy white?” Walt said after we left the store.

  “I need the color chart for the case.”

  Sometimes I think Walt would make a better fireman or something. He doesn’t have the feel for police work like Sharon and I.

  12.

  “The poor parents,” Mom said, “ how terrible for them.”

  She was reading the “Hamilton Island News” while Dad sat next to the radio listening to a baseball game.

  “What parents, Mom?” I asked.

  “There’s an article right here about the missing paddleboarder, George Bailey, it says some fisherman must have thought he was a seal or a shark when he was floating in the water.”

  “Why?’

  “He’d been shot.”

  “WHAT ?” Dad said, turning off the radio and reaching for the paper.’

  As he read the article, I sat on the arm of the chair and read along with him.

  Racer’s Body Found

  The body of Allen Carson, 22, of Venice Beach, was found near the Seal Beach pier by lifeguard Robby Wilson. Mr. Carson was a participant in the Hamilton Island Palddleboard Race held here last weekend. He apparently lost contact with his chase boat. Police report that Mr. Carson had been shot. Sgt. O’Reilly of the Seal Beach Police theorized that a passing fisherman might have mistaken Carson for a seal or shark.

  I thought that Sgt. O’Reilly might have been mistaken for a real policeman. Why would he just guess something like that? Maybe he just wanted his name in the paper.

  I ran out to the garage office of “George Bailey and Associates” and took a pad of paper with me. As I sat on the stool by the workbench I looked up at the wanted poster of “Mad Mike” Proctor. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions here too just like Walt did with our typing teacher or even like Sgt. O’Reilly

  Fishermen often shoot seals and sometimes even sharks. Seals would eat a caught yellowtail just before a fisherman brought the fish in after a long struggle. The line would suddenly go slack and the fisherman would reel in the head only. If there was a gun on board –that seal was in trouble.

  The guy who should have won the Great Paddleboard Race was dead. I wasn’t sure how he was killed but I knew who benefited. I knew for sure that Jellyfish Johnson couldn’t have beaten ‘Four Eyes’ without the fog.

  Why would you kill somebody just to win $500?

  I’m the one who’s crazy, I thought – there were plenty of people in 1935 who’d kill somebody for $500. I needed to talk to my associates – especially Sharon.

  13.

  “I think we should talk to Henry Lido,” Sharon said.

  “Henry Lido! I lost my lunch money to him on a Yankees game last week.” Walt said.

  “I think that’s a great idea Sharon,” I said, looking at her.

  “Well of course you do, George Bailey.” Walt just shook his head.

  Henry Lido was in our grade. He was a born hustler and worked up at the Harpoon Bay Golf Course as a caddy. He loved to gamble and knew everything about betting odds and everything. I worked for Henry when we were eight. He had a bottle collecting business and I was one of his trashcan divers. We would jump into the trashcans by the beach and pick up returnable soda bottles. Ben Sr. would pay us for them at the market. That was during Prohibition and some of the bootleggers even paid him for bottles too. I remember one time we were at the beach and Henry asked a guy if he would let us have his half finished Coke.

  “Get out of here kid, can’t you see I’m still drinking the damn thing,” the guy said.

  When the guy went in for a swim, Henry snatched the bottle.

  “There was a lot of gambling on the Paddleboard Race and Henry can probably help us find out how it works,” Sharon said.

  “Well, OK,” Walt said, “ but I’d leave my wallet in the garage if I were you guys.”

  “Henry’s not that bad a guy Walt,” I said, “ he really works hard.”

  “If you two want to go talk to him that’s fine, but leave me out of it. Whatever you do, just don’t make him an associate.

  “I think Henry’s up at the Golf Course right now,” I said.

  Sharon and I jumped on our bikes and pedaled out to the course. We had to push them up the steep hill to the office. The caddies were all sitting on a wood bench waiting for golfers to come up the hill.

  “Hey George Bailey, what’re you and Sharon doing—going to play golf.”

  “Nah, Henry, we came up here to talk to you.”

  “Well it’ll have to be quick – I’m next up.”

  Caddies worked on tips from the golfers. A Caddy Master, who tried to keep some kind of order, controlled them. While they waited to go out the guys would lag nickels against a wall or roll dice. It was a perfect job for Henry Lido. He said he sometimes made more money sitting on the bench than he did lugging the clubs.

  “If we buy you a soda over at the clubhouse will you lose your place?”

  “Go ahead Henry – I’ll call you if somebody comes up.”

  Henry looked at the other caddy like he really didn’t trust him.

  “Don’t worry Henry – I’ll come get you if he doesn’t,” said the next in line.

  “OK -- thanks Billy.”

  I bought the sodas and we sat down.

  “Sharon’s cousin Butch came in second on the race last week,” I said as I stirred my Orange Crush with a straw.

  “Yeah, you don’t have to tell me – I lost money on that one, but Ben Sr. lost a bundle on Jellyfish.”

  “How?” Sharon said.

  “A lot of bets came in on Jellyfish just before the start of the race and Ben didn’t lower the odds fast enough. Cuda was favored at 2-1 and Jellyfish was 5-1. Ben took some big bets on Jellyfish.” Henry sipped on his coke.

  “Why would he lower the odds?” Sharon asked.

  “He doesn’t want too much money out at high odd
s – what if a fluke happens and the guy wins. A fluke like fog for example.”

  “How much do you think Ben lost?” I asked.

  “Maybe $1,000 or more.”

  “That’s a lot of money – ‘course he had the money on Cuda to win to help pay for it.”

  “He would have been OK,” Henry said, “if he’d lowered the odds.”

  “Wow, Jellyfish got $500 and some other guys won $1000 – that’s a lot of money.”

  “They won more than $1,000. Ben’s not the only bookie who was taking bets – don’t forget the guys on the mainland too, and they had an advantage.”

  “What advantage?”

  “It was already foggy on the coast before the race started.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well anything can happen when you can’t see. Guys get lost –all sorts of things.”

  Billy ran in to the clubhouse.

  “Hurry Henry, you’re up –Jack will grab your spot if you don’t hurry.”

  “Thanks for the coke George Bailey –seeya Sharon.”

  14.

  I stopped by the police station to see Officer Keyes. I wondered what he thought about the dead paddler and if there was any investigation going on. Since I worked for him last summer and had helped solve a couple of cases on the island – I thought he would be interested in what we’d learned so far. Officer Keyes, like everybody else on the island, knew that Ben Sr. took bets on baseball games and stuff.

  “I like Ben,” he said, “I’m going to have to talk to him about the bookmaking. I just have been so busy handling other things. He’s his own worst enemy – he’s not too smart and loses money doing it. Imagine taking bets on a paddleboard race.”

  “Do you think that “Four Eyes” might have been murdered,” I asked.

  “Four Eyes?”

  “That’s his nickname – the guy from Venice.”

  “The fisherman theory has some merit,” Officer Keyes said, “ he did have on a black t-shirt and black trunks. Four Eyes could have been mistaken for a seal. They’re doing an autopsy. At least we’ll know what kind of bullet it was – maybe that will help. There’s a lot of fisherman out there with guns though.”

  I told Officer Keyes about the towrope that Karen had seen. He just sort of scratched his chin and looked out the front window.

  “Not much to go on George Bailey – but keep digging.”

  “We will.”

  “I appreciate the help – you guys are pretty smart – especially Sharon – just be real careful and let me know whatever you discover.”

  “Don’t worry –we will.”

  15.

  I couldn’t get to sleep that night. I kept thinking about the case and wondering if it really was a case after all. I mean, Jellyfish Johnson was a very good paddleboard racer and maybe Cuda’s chase boat got confused in the fog and wandered off course. If he did -- then Jellyfish could have passed him. I remembered our mistake with the typing teacher. A good detective should never jump to conclusions. I knew Four Eyes got separated from his chase boat and may have wandered off course too.

  Sharon was convinced that Jellyfish must have been towed past Cuda based on the towrope and the red mark, but there could have been other reasons for those.

  So what if there was heavy betting on Jellyfish. 5:1 odds were pretty good on someone as good as he was. I might have taken that bet too – especially now that I understand a little more about betting after talking to Henry. Bet one dollar to win five if Jellyfish wins – what’s wrong with that?

  I had to treat the case like a real detective and look at each part. My first question was simple. Did Cuda stay on course and in touch with his chase boat? I decided to talk to Sharon about it tomorrow during our snack break.

  “Are you crazy – why would he go off course?” Sharon said.

  “Ah, it was foggy and maybe they didn’t pay attention to the compass and tried to guess where they should be going.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I tried to explain that sometimes people get confused and instead of trusting the compass, their mind plays tricks on them and they get lost. It happens to pilots too. Sometimes they even read the compass wrong and go backwards for a while.

  “There’s only one thing wrong with that George Bailey.”

  “What?”

  “The driver of the chase boat wasn’t just some pal of Cuda’s – it was Frank Walden.”

  “Oh.”

  Frank Walden was 45 and a commercial skipper with years of experience crossing the channel. If anyone held course crossing the channel in fog it would have been Frank. He had crossed that channel in fog many times – often towing large barges.

  “I wonder if Cuda got away from the chase boat for awhile?” I asked.

  “No, he didn’t,” Sharon said looking at me like I’d snatched her homework or something, “ When it started to get foggy, Frank had Cuda pull in as close to the chase boat as was safe and had his crewman continually ring a bell that was by the hatchway. Cuda said the bell drove him crazy but it kept him on course.”

  I went to my Accounting class. Mr. Torpor kept looking at me funny. I was having a little trouble in Accounting. I’m a straight A student usually, but was averaging a B+ in his class. I was a little worried that he might find out that I was one of the guys who turned him in for murder. I thought that might have some influence on my grade.

  “George Bailey,” he said, “you seem to be having some difficulty concentrating today. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  Some of the guys in the class looked over and sort of giggled. Walt had bragged a little too much when he first thought we’d solved the Happy Tuna case.

  “No –I was just wondering about that accounts receivable item-------.”

  16.

  “Hey Butch, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” he said, as he came over to Sharon and I. We were sitting on a bench near the Capri Theatre. “You guy’s going to the matinee.”

  “No we were just sitting here,” Sharon said, “we were talking about the race and I wondered if you think Four Eyes might have wandered off course?”

  “He sure could have Sharon, other guys did. You know some guys stayed in touch with their chase boat and still got lost. The skippers weren’t that good and didn’t trust their compass.”

  I tried not to look at Sharon, not wanting to show off too much. I just nodded at Cuda.

  “There’s no way you would know what the course was without a compass,” he said, “you’d just go round a round in circles.”

  “Did you slow down at all because of the fog?” I asked.

  “Only at first for a couple of minutes until we got organized. The bell really helped and I decided to pick up the pace a little figuring most guys would naturally go slower. I was hoping maybe Four Eyes would slow down. I just wasn’t that worried about Jellyfish. He was pretty far behind me.”

  After he left I asked Sharon if she want to go see the movie. It was half price day and I had fifty cents, which was enough for the movie and popcorn too.

  “Why in world would I want to go see ‘The Reckless Buckaroo’” ?

  I’d already seen it before too, I just thought it would be fun to sit next to her and eat some popcorn. Might even put my arm around her ---------.

  17.

  “Henry saw Crocodile out by the 14th hole.” I said.

  “There’s no Crocodiles on this island – they’re in Florida.”

  “Not a Crocodile you moron –the Crocodile --the boat.”

  “Don’t call me a moron George Bailey – how many times I gotta tell you that?”

  It probably wasn’t too smart calling him that since I was half his size, but sometimes he just made me nuts. He sure has a hard time focusing on the case.

  “What’s it doing out there?”

  “Henry said it’s just anchored in the cove. It didn’t look like there was anyone on it.”

  “Let’s motor out after school,”
I said.

  “We got enough gas?”

  “I got a can in the garage – I’ll bring it.”

  We still had our dinghy locked up at the dinghy dock. The cove was under a mile away and it wouldn’t take too long to get out and back. I was anxious for school to end and my afternoon classes just seemed to drag on forever.

  As we walked down to the dinghy dock, I thought about what to look for when we got to the Crocodile.

  “George Bailey – shhhh, don’t look right now.”

  “Huh?” I said as I looked over at Walt –his head was down like he was concentrating on the chain attached to our dinghy.

  “Shhhh –there’s a guy, up on the pier, --- don’t look goddamit – I swear it’s him.

  “Who?”

  “Wait --- now -- there he goes.”

  A man was walking out to the Shoreboat dock. I could only see his back.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Mad Mike Proctor – I know it’s him and he ain’t 5-4 this time. Lets follow him.”

  I looked hard at Walt. He just seemed so convinced. He was sweating and his hand was even shaking a little. He couldn’t seem to work the starter rope.

  “I’ll do it – just calm down – are you sure?” I said as I adjusted the choke.

  “I AM SURE!” He screamed.

  The engine started right up. It was a warm day and the sun beating down on it all day must have helped. We pulled out slowly and followed the Shoreboat at a safe distance. It went outside the harbor entrance and picked up speed. It was headed in the direction of Clam Cove – near the 14th hole.

  The shoreboat was much faster. We got near the kelp beds and slowly crept around the corner – just in time to see the man exiting the shoreboat – and getting on the Crocodile.

  When we got back to the dinghy dock we decided to find Sharon and have a meeting in our office – my garage. I sat on the workbench next to the picture of Mad Mike Proctor. Walt was standing next to me staring at the wanted poster. Sharon sat on top of the boat trailer.