The Black Widow - Mark Kane Mysteries - Book Three: A Private Investigator Crime Series of Murder, Mystery, Suspense & Thriller Stories...with a dash of Romance

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The Black Widow - Mark Kane Mysteries - Book Three: A Private Investigator Crime Series of Murder, Mystery, Suspense & Thriller Stories...with a dash of Romance Page 16

by John Hemmings


  “Aren’t you aware of any family or relatives that Larry may have in the States?” I asked her. “A DNA comparison would put the matter beyond doubt. And that may help with your plan to move there and also your claim for the insurance money.”

  “Larry told me that his parents were both dead, but he has a married sister in California. I never met her but I’m going to Manila to the embassy to ask about immigration to the U.S. and I’ll ask if they can give me some help to locate her, although I don’t know what her married name is. Even if I can’t immigrate to the States I will find a way to get there. I’m determined to be there when the baby’s born.”

  Gary spoke to Cary about Larry’s watch. He wanted her to have it back.

  “Things are going to be difficult for you Cary. Take the watch and sell it, or keep it and give it to the baby when it grows up.”

  “What if it’s a girl?”

  Gary laughed. “Well you can always have a link or two removed,” he said.

  “Thanks Gary. You were a good friend to us both but I can’t take it. It was given to you by Larry in good faith to satisfy a debt of honor. You must keep it. Don’t worry I’m not destitute and I’ll manage – we Filipinos always find a way. And whether my child is a boy or a girl I won’t allow them to gamble!”

  As she left, Lucy promised to call as soon as we had positive news about Dale.

  “I’m sure he’ll contact you himself, but I’ll let you know anyway,” she said.

  Lucy and I started to make the short journey back to the hotel, but she decided that she wanted a last walk along the palm-fringed sandy promenade.

  “It’s such a lovely night,” she said. “It seems as if we’ve been here for ages.”

  “We have been here for ages,” I said.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “If we manage to get Dale out of jail tomorrow don’t forget to suggest that he sells the boat so that he can pay something towards my fee,” I said. “He’s your friend after all and he did say that if we got him out he’d see me alright.”

  “I’ll play it by ear,” Lucy said. “Probably he’ll make the offer himself.”

  “Hmm,” I said.

  “Do you think Cary’s decision to try and move to the States has anything to do with Larry’s enemies in Olongapo?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised, and I wouldn’t blame her either.”

  “Do you think she’ll make it?”

  “I don’t know much about the immigration laws, but if it’s a matter of determination on her part I expect she will, don’t you?”

  “We never met her sister; you know, the one that Dale was dating.”

  “She visited Dale yesterday as a matter of fact. Santos told me when I spoke to him earlier.”

  “I guess they’re still together then?”

  “That may not have been the reason for the visit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, nothing really; let’s enjoy the walk. What time’s our flight tomorrow?”

  “Eleven forty-five. We should leave here about nine to be on the safe side.”

  “In life it’s always wise to err on the safe side,” I said.

  Chapter Twenty One

  The Release

  We packed before breakfast and walked to the Café.

  “I’ve grown quite fond of this place,” I said.

  “It’s a better office than the one we’ve got at home, I agree,” Lucy said.

  “It hasn’t got any windows either,” I said.

  Lucy looked at me wearily. “It’s on the beach,” she said. “It’s practically in the sea.”

  “It doesn’t have a prestigious address.”

  “No,” said Lucy, “nor a basement parking garage.”

  “But it does have an excellent range of alcoholic beverages; I’d have to concede that.”

  “You’ve missed the point,” she said.

  “There’s a difference between missing the point and ignoring it,” I said. Lucy kicked me under the table.

  Our journey back to Clark was as swift as when we arrived, which turned out not to be such a good thing because although the airport at Clark looked fine from the outside it had little to commend it inside. We had an hour and a half to wait for our flight and the usual array of shops, bars and eateries were strangely absent. There was a kiosk selling rather dubious looking snacks and little else. There were only four departure gates, two up and two downstairs. There were rows of metal chairs to sit on. If you wanted Wi-Fi there was a VIP room upstairs which cost ten dollars apiece. We decided not to bother.

  Leaving the airport in Manila the noise and commotion contrasted starkly with our peaceful arrival and departure at the airport in Clark. Our taxi clearly hadn’t undergone any road-worthiness test in the present millennium and as the driver wove his way through the gridlocked traffic the gears grated noisily. Several times I was certain we were about to have a collision but, almost miraculously, we didn’t. There seemed to be only one rule for road traffic users: never give way, even if it meant risking almost certain death or disfigurement. I tried shutting my eyes but that only made it worse.

  “It’s like rush hour,” I said to the driver.

  “It’s always rush hour in Manila,” he said.

  Lucy had booked us into the same hotel without difficulty and we went there first to dump our bags. We arrived at two o’clock, with an hour to kill.

  “Can you go online and check prices for tickets to Bangkok?” I said to Lucy. “Also call my airline to see if I can re-route. My return ticket is via Hong Kong. I don’t want to lose the cost of the flight altogether if I can help it.”

  “Okay, I’ll put my organizational skills into gear.”

  “I want to try and see Westlake this afternoon if I can fit it in. I thought we could get the receipt to Santos first and then I’ll go to the embassy. I’ll try to make an appointment about four, but with it being Friday afternoon I’m not sure they’ll see me at short notice.”

  “Okay, shall I come to both meetings?”

  “Why not? There’s nothing more you want to do in Manila is there?”

  “Nope.”

  Westlake agreed to see me so long as I arrived before four thirty. I briefly told him about the receipt for the boat and said I’d let him know later if Dale had been released.

  Santos greeted us like old friends. He was probably happy that he’d be able to clear the books of the Sands case. It didn’t seem likely that the investigation was going to turn up any new leads.

  “This is the receipt,” I said. “Mrs. Sands say’s it’s written in her husband’s handwriting and she’s provided me with samples of his handwriting from letters and notes he had written to her. I’ve looked at them myself. I’m no expert but they certainly seem to have been written by the same person. For what it’s worth Mrs. Sands is able to personally confirm that the transaction took place, but I doubt you’ll need to interview her since you now have the receipt itself. You’ll notice that the boat was transferred to Mr. Porter just five days before Mrs. Sands reported her husband missing. She told me that she made the report after Mr. Sands had been missing and out of contact with her for two or three days.”

  “So why did Mrs. Sands tell the police that the boat was missing when she reported the disappearance of her husband. Did she say?”

  “It seems that there may have been a misunderstanding by the police. Mrs. Sands says she knew the boat had been transferred to Mr. Porter but she didn’t realize he had already moved the boat to a new location.”

  “I see.” He appeared somewhat unconvinced but said, “Well since the missing boat was the only reason we were holding Mr. Porter I shall arrange to have him released.”

  “How soon will you be able to do that? Lucy and I are planning to fly out tomorrow since our work’s finished here. Naturally I’d like to see Mr. Porter before we go if at all possible.”

  “I don’t see any reason
for delay. I’ll need to have a word with the officer in charge of the investigation, but that should only be a formality. I would expect him to be released later this afternoon or perhaps by early evening.”

  “I have an appointment with Mr. Westlake later this afternoon. I’ll bring him up to date, so there’ll be no need for the police to contact him.”

  “Well, now Mr. Porter is no longer under suspicion I don’t suppose you have any other suspects for me. You did say you would look into the matter.”

  “I’m fairly certain that the victim was killed; that it wasn’t an accidental death − but my investigation hasn’t turned up any new suspects,” I lied, “and I don’t think it’s likely that you’ll have any other suspects in the future either. The death will probably always remain a mystery.”

  “Most of them do,” Santos said.

  “Perhaps you’d be kind enough to pass a message to Mr. Porter. I don’t know where he’ll be staying when he’s released but I presume he’ll be in Manila for at least tonight. This is the number of the hotel where we’re staying and this is my cell phone number.” I handed him a page from my notebook where I had written the numbers down.

  “I’ll certainly do that and I wish you a pleasant flight tomorrow. Are you going back to the States?”

  “Via Bangkok,” I said. “We plan to stop over there for a couple of days before heading home.”

  “Have a safe journey,” said Santos.

  We had time to walk from the police headquarters to the embassy. I figured it was safer than taking a taxi.

  “You’ll find Westlake a little curious, I think,” I said to Lucy.

  “Why’s that?”

  “When he talks, his mouth barely moves and there’s no movement at all in other parts of his face. He has no expression.”

  “How strange.”

  “And that’s not all. He doesn’t make eye contact when he’s talking.”

  “Perhaps he has Asperger’s syndrome,” she said.

  “Good point; I hadn’t thought of that. I shall miss these examples of astute observation when you cease to be my assistant.”

  Lucy fisted me hard on the right bicep; it was quite painful. We arrived earlier than anticipated but were shown in straight away. Probably Westlake was hoping to get off early for the weekend. I introduced Lucy and we sat down opposite him.

  “I’ve been to the police station and given them the receipt for the boat which I referred to over the phone,” I said. “I’m afraid I don’t have a copy – neither of the hotels where we’ve been since being handed the note had copying facilities. Anyway, in brief it was written by Mr. Sands and states that he transferred the ownership of the boat to Porter on the tenth of September – that’s five days before Sands was reported missing – in lieu of repayment of a ten thousand US dollar loan. There’s no doubt that the receipt was written by Sands. His wife provided me with several letters written by her husband and I have submitted those to the police as well. Furthermore, Mrs. Sands confirms the transaction. So the police are going to let him go later today.”

  “Good. That’ll relieve me of any further involvement in the case. Do the police have any other suspects?”

  “No. I uncovered a few possible suspects, and one rather likely one, but I haven’t passed them on to the police. Mrs. Sands asked me not to. I doubt that Mr. Porter will care one way or another.”

  “Did you find the missing watch?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I did, though not by brilliant detective work. It turned out that, rather like the boat, Sands had given it to a friend in lieu of repayment of a loan. So the fishermen are no longer under suspicion.” I smiled at Westlake but didn’t receive one in return.

  “So you’ll be going home I guess.”

  “You guess correctly; tomorrow in fact – via Bangkok, so that my assistant can do some shopping.”

  “Visit temples,” Lucy corrected me. My heart sank. I had pictured myself in a quaint oriental bar exchanging cultural chit chat with the locals whilst Lucy was searching for bargains. That was clearly not going to happen.

  “It was good of you to drop by and let me know. I won’t keep you; no doubt you’ve got to pack.”

  We walked back to the hotel.

  “You’re right,” said Lucy. “He seemed to be looking at something behind you. I was tempted to turn round to see if I could find out what it was. Do you think he ever has a good belly laugh? I can’t imagine it, can you?”

  “Not really, no.” I said.

  “I’ve found a flight with available seats to Bangkok in the morning,” Lucy said. “It leaves at eleven. There’s one at eight but we’d never make it. Your ticket was open-ended but the airline says if you want to change the routing you’ll have to pay a penalty. I’ll book the flights back to the US once we’ve decided on the date. How long shall we stay in Bangkok?”

  “How many temples are there?”

  “Hundreds,” she said.

  “Two days will be enough. I was looking at your Lonely Planet. We can see the Standing Buddha, the Sitting Buddha, the Lying down Buddha, the Gold Buddha and the Emerald Buddha. After that I reckon we’ll be pretty well Buddha’d out.”

  “There are lots of other things to do there too.”

  “And no doubt they all cost money,” I said. “Let’s stick to two days, shall we? We can fly home on Tuesday. The International Date Line owes me about eleven hours, so with luck we’ll get back the same day.”

  “There’s really no hurry. I got a message from Brenda. There’s no work.”

  “That’s probably because word’s got around that I’ve emigrated. Two days. You can stay longer if you want, so long as Brenda can cover for you; but I’ll have to deduct the extra days from your somewhat meager salary.”

  “Two days is probably enough,” she said solemnly. After a while she added, “Of course if we get a payment from Dale then I’ll be receiving my cut as your assistant, won’t I?”

  “If,” I said; “and after deduction of all relevant expenses.”

  “Hmm. And when we get back we can work out a new salary for me based on my new position. Brenda can’t stay but she says she knows someone who can take over the secretarial duties and then I can concentrate on assisting you full time. I’ll be able to work from home so I can be at your beck and call.”

  “Lucy, this was a temporary arrangement based on the rather unusual circumstances that pertained to this particular assignment.”

  “But we work well together as a team, you can’t deny that?”

  “Temporary,” I said; “until we get to the airport tomorrow.”

  “Well at least say you’ll think about it.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  We went back to the hotel to book the flights and pack. Shortly after six o’clock Dale telephoned.

  “Thanks so much, Mr. Kane, I’d like to thank you both personally. I’ll be staying at a condo in Tivoli Gardens in Mandaluyong. It’s about five or ten minutes’ drive from Makati. It’s a friend’s place and they’re away; a three-bedroom apartment. It’s a little on the small side but there are places to eat nearby. I’m sorry, I don’t know the best route but the taxi driver should know where it is. I’d come to your hotel but frankly the place where I’ve spent the past week wasn’t particularly sanitary and I need to go and shower and change. Is that okay?”

  “Yes, that’s fine. There’s nothing much for us to do here. What time would be convenient?”

  “Say eight o’clock. That should give me enough time. Oh, the apartment number is fourteen D, block three. You can store my cell phone number and call me if you get lost.”

  “Alright, if we’re a bit late it’ll be the traffic. We’ll see you later.”

  “Lucy, can you look at the computer and find an apartment block called Tivoli Gardens in an area called Mandaluyong? It’s somewhere near Makati. We’re to meet Dale there at ei
ght o’clock. He mentioned dinner, so we won’t eat anything now.”

  Lucy busied herself on the computer. It took her quite some time to find it and make a note of the street name.

  “It’s miles away,” she said. “Not as far as going to the airport, but in a different direction. We’d better leave in plenty of time.”

  “Okay, well let’s get ready. We’ll do the packing when we get back; you first, because you take longer. I’ll nip downstairs and ask them to book us a taxi at seven. An hour should be long enough, even in Manila.”

  Miraculously Lucy was ready in record time. She was probably hoping we were going to be able to squeeze some money out of Dale, or maybe she was just hungry; we hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. The taxi arrived on time as well, and it was in better shape than the one that had brought us from the airport. I asked the girl at the reception if she could explain to the taxi driver where we wanted to go, to avoid any misunderstanding.

  The taxi was quite a new one which probably explained the extra charge the hotel had levied. The driver’s English was pretty good and I asked him if he’d be available to take us to the airport the next day. We agreed a price rather than relying on the meter; it seemed reasonable enough. There seemed to be an uncharacteristic lull in the traffic, or maybe it was the expertise of the driver who knew some short-cuts, but it was only a minute or two after seven thirty when we pulled up outside Tivoli Gardens. We found the block without difficulty and took the elevator to the fourteenth floor. As we got out of the elevator there were arrows pointing to the apartments. Flat D was to the left, and as we turned the corner we could see a door opened onto the corridor and a man and two women in the doorway. It was quite dimly lit, but there was enough light to see that the man was Dale Porter. I recognized one of the women too; it was Cary, and Dale was embracing her. The trio was oblivious of our approach and I watched as Dale kissed Cary. It wasn’t a peck on the cheek either.

 

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