As Dan sat back down, Flo appeared at the table. “Honey, y’us got a death wish. But, I be luvin’ y’u f’r it.”
“Don’t recall you backin’ off any.”
“Y’a, lost m’ senses. Them bottom feeders only been in a few times last couple weeks.”
Dan and Gary returned to their food, but Rick’s appetite was gone.
“What you think now?” Dan asked sopping the last bite of bread in gravy.
“Dope smuggling, Turkish, comin’ in through Canada?”
“Hey-uh, Dan, Rick interrupted. “They are waitin’ outside.”
“Humm,” Dan mumbled quietly. Gary and Dan finished their food but lingered sipping coffee. “They gone yet?”
“No, they’re still back tracking their route,” Gary noted.
Why those scraps so important?
Pulling several bills out, Dan waved Flo over. “Is there a back way out?”
“Ain’t no check at y’ur table. Scoot out through the galley.”
“Leaving the money he departed. The others followed him round the side of the building. They concealed themselves in bushes and watched Flo’s ‘bottom feeders.’
“What now, Dan,” Gary whispered.
“After meetin’ Skull, I’m sure it’s not on the level. Not our jurisdiction, either. Smart move is notify the locals and move on.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“Not more ’an you.”
“Hey-hey-hey,” Rick interrupted, “Am I invisible? What are we talking about?”
Dan shrugged his shoulders. “He’s YOUR friend.”
“We’re trying to decide what to do,” Gary replied. “Tell the locals and forget it or find out what it’s about.”
“You mean a crime in progress?”
“Our guess, drugs or smuggling,” Dan said.
“What’re we waitin’ on?” Rick urged, “Let’s get ’em. Nothing like this ever happens at the university.”
“Hold on, Rick,” Gary cautioned. “Smugglers and dopers are dangerous. You saw but a sample of mean. People get killed getting in their way.”
“Ahh, you’re just trying to scare me.”
“Yeah! He is!” Dan admitted, “with good reason. How about you going back to the cabin and call the locals. We’ll keep tabs on them.”
“Not in your lifetime. I came fishing because it’s the most excitement my life ever sees. Not shoving me in a closet. One for all and all for one.”
“You watch too much television,” Gary retorted.
“Yeah, and they’re likely to take off any minute,” Dan warned. “So decide. Kick this ball or run it?”
“Run it,” they responded together.
“Alright then, they probably have a vehicle. So, we’re gonna need wheels,” Dan looked around the vacant lot, “from somewhere.”
“There’s a taxi barn around the corner. Two blocks down Perry Street,” Rick said. “Saw one there this morning.”
“Could be a good undercover car.”
“It’s all we got,” Gary said.
“Alright,” Dan sighed. “You two stake this place out. I’ll fetch the car.”
“How?” Rick asked.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Dan headed out on foot, as dusk brought shadows. He ran the block and a half and found the Plymouth taxi. OH BOY! Yellow fenders on a bright blue body! It’s ugly as sin, but no choice? The office door bore a sign “Port Clinton Livery” with hours of operation and a phone number. Whatever happened to plain ol’ ‘Taxi?’. was past closing time, but Dan heard a television. Guy must live here. knocked on the door. The weathered grain skinned his knuckles. He looked for a pay phone, but saw none. His eyes caught a large marlin spike by the door. He picked it up and rapped. The loud sharp sound provoked response, “Go away! Closed!”
He banged three more times and yelled, “Open up! Police!”
He heard movement. The blind slats parted revealing a face which reminded Dan of the logo on a box of fish. “Don’t know you,” he said. “And, I knows all the law ’round abouts.”
“I’m not from ’round abouts!’ And I don’t have time to play twenty questions! Open the door or I’ll take the window out with this marlin!”
“I’m callin’ the real law!”
“Fine, but it’ll be after I’m through the door. I have an emergency and I need the car!”
“Let me see your badge!”
Dan pressed it against the window pain.
“Don’t look like a real badge.”
“I told you. I’m not local!” Dan shouted pulling his revolver from his leg holster and tapping it on the window. “This badge any better?”
The man inside dropped to the floor and crawled away.
Great! Fool thinks I’m gonna shoot him! Worse—if I bust in he’s likely to shoot me. As Dan considered his next move he heard a scraping noise at the foot of the door. Dan looked to see a long leather strap poking out the threshold crack.
“Take the car!”
Dan didn’t waste time. Explanations were for later. He started the car. Don’t have to notifying the locals, anymore.
The gaudy Plymouth pulled into the restaurant parking lot. It’s door advertised “Por Clint Liver.” Dan bumped across the rough apron. Needs shocks too. On the third jolt the gas gauge dropped to “E.” Great! Butt ugly car, broken gas gauge, and I’m out of jurisdiction!
At Ginger’s, he whistled out the window, with no response. They were in those bushes. Where’d they go?
Dan parked and searched for a trampled spot. Probably following ’em. Which way? In what? Must be on foot. I’ll start a search. Better leave word in the restaurant. rushed in the Galley as Flo charged. They collided in their haste. Flo staggered back a couple steps. Dan went to the floor like a defeated Sumo. Wha’d I run into? He looked up. ’s over-towering form met his gaze. Hands on hips, she squawked, “Y’u only bumped y’ur ego! Get y’ur carcus up! Gary needs y’u!”
“What do you know about Gary?”
“I know you all’s the law, and him an’ the other feller’s doggin’ ’em vagabond ruffians. Went down the dock road fifteen minutes ago.”
Dan made it to his feet just as the cook came slapping through the kitchen door, waving money and shouting, “Hold on Flo! Where’d you get this fifty?”
“From ’em four bottom feeders in seven, Larr’.”
“It’s bogus, and if you hadn’t been in such dad-blame hurry to light out, you’d ‘ve noticed! It’s out of your wages!”
“Not if’n you e’r wanna see m’ carcass a-g’in!”
“That’s it!” Dan exclaimed. “They’re running counterfeit.” He grabbed the fifty from Larry, “I’ll explain later,” and ran out. I still don’t have a clue where my partners are—OH, and, worse—two sheriff deputies are ‘running’ the cab!
They noticed his abrupt reaction “Hold it!”
Should I make a run for it? Oh that’s ridiculous! I’m only guilty of aggravated stupidity. Dan joined them.
“Is this your car?”
“No. But, I did commandeer it.”
They threw him spread-eagled against the taxi patting him down. This is gonna get uglier! They found his off duty revolver and the slap-jack.
“You’re under arrest for vehicle theft, possession of concealed weapons and aggravated assault,” one deputy informed while handcuffing Dan.
Who’d I assault?
Before Dan could respond, Flo converged on them. “Arty, turn ’im loose! Y’u outs of y’ur fool head? We’s gots hornswagglers to nab.”
“Flo, this is police business, you …”
“Stops jackin’ me around, Arthur Justin Hamilton! I know’d y’u from when y’us grasshopper high. I’ll gets Frank down here an makes da fools of y’u.”
“Flooo…”
“Chester, best y’u reign Arty in,” she addressed the second deputy. “Them argonuts hornswaggled me f’r fifty bucks. Look!” Flo took the fifty out of Dan’s front pocket and shoved it
at Arthur. “Dis ain’t comin’ out my wages. He’s on to ’em good. We’s got to get after ’em, NOW!”
The deputy took the bill to examine.
“Deputy,” Dan said, “I’m a police officer. Shield’s in my wallet there. I realize I’m out of jurisdiction, but I stumbled into a counterfeit buy. It’s going down somewhere close soon. If you’ll take the bracelets off, I’ll lay it out.”
“Y’u goin’ to listen, now! Or, does I call Frank!”
Arty examined the badge. “Okay, we’ll go in and verify you’re authentic and…”
“We don’t have time! Play it by the book, and you’ll miss the biggest bust of your career.”
“What do you think, Rog?”
“Looks good, sounds real, and Flo’s vouching. I’ll play along, for now. But mister, if you’re scamin’ me you won’t ever see daylight.”
“You worryin’ ‘bout scamin’?” Flo shouted red-faced. “You keeps treatin’ me likes I ain’t here I’ll kick y’ur shins blue! Y’u’s holding fifty clams of scam an’ ain’t got sense t’ know!”
The deputy removed the handcuffs, and Dan turned to Flo.
“Cool your jets, Flo. I stepped across the line. They’re just doing their job.” Flo relaxed, and Dan briefed the deputies.
“Okay, hop in, we’ll see if we can find your friends,” Arty offered opening the back door.
“Leave it to y’u to find a whacki-taxi,” Flo said, stiff-arming Dan and plowing in the cruiser. She pulled herself to the far side of the seat. Sensing their surprise added, “My fifty ain’t it?”
“The problem I’m seeing,” Dan said, “is sneaking up on them in a squad car?”
“We could split up and take both,” Chester suggested. “Hold marked car back until the other scouts the situation.”
“Arty, let’s you and me take the whacky tax?” Dan offered. “Chester and Flo can follow.”
“Sounds like a plan, what do you think, Rog?”
“Let’s do it.”
“One minor detail,” Dan added. “I don’t have a clue where my partners went.”
“He’s markin’ trail,” Flo answered, but no one paid her any attention as they discussed a search.
Flo raised her voice, “SAID! He be markin’ trail!”
“What are you fussing about?” Arthur challenged.
“Watch m’ lips Arty! Dey’s - markin’ - the – trraaail! Best y’o clean da wax out.”
“You mean Gary? How?” Dan asked.
“Don’t y’u know? Could be wettin’ hydrants f’r all I know. He grabbed cray’ns from da kiddie pail–if dat helps.”
They were off looking for the crayon marks. The cruiser remained behind, much to Flo’s dismay. Dan found the first yellow mark along the curb where Flo last saw them. They found others guiding them to the pier where yesterday’s headboats docked.
“Arty, pull over,” Dan directed. “Your uniform shows up like the lighthouse beacon. You’re going to have to trust me to go ahead on foot.”
Dan left the taxi and a reluctant deputy behind. The markings guided Dan though the docks several hundred feet until he came to an “X” inside a circle. Blast him, what’s with the wait here?There has to be something more, but further searching convinced him there were none. At least he wasn’t captured, or he would have left a slashed circle - if he had time? Dan rubbed out the center of the “X” with the heel of his shoe. Wish I had a crayon. Then he returned and updated the deputies.
“If they’re that far down the pier,” Arty suggested, “we might as well bring the cruiser closer.”
“Be a good time. There’s plenty of places around the buildings to hide it. Meantime, I’ll go back to the mark and wait. If I’m not back in forty-five minutes, best, you hunt me up.”
Dan returned to the mark he had found on the pier. Quickly he checked for new markings, but found none. He slid down amongst a grouping of pier posts nearby to wait. Slapping waves, intermittent boat horns, and the odor of fish oil and seaweed were his companions. No matter where Dan went, or what he did, Dan couldn’t shake the impression he was on his own. Half the allotted time passed before Dan heard a dragging sound. A rope pulled by a mooring? Then he saw someone slowly approach using the boats, freight boxes, and fishing gear along the pier for cover. Gary – Rick– no it don’t fit them. The way he moves is somehow familiar. The newcomer stood over the mark. It’s Flo!
“What are you doing here?” He whispered forcefully without moving.
“Same as y’u. Huntin’ ’em sea dogs. Here’s y’u sumpin’ to clubs ’em wit’.” She held out the marlin he left in the taxi.
“No need, Arty gave my off-duty back. You get back to the cruiser.”
“Naw, they’re at the foot of the pier. Waitin’ f’r me to blow this,” she held up a large brass whistle. “’sides, I knows these docks.”
“Find you a spot, then. All we can do is wait.”
She settled in against a post draped with netting, the dark haul of a tug behind her. Five minutes later Gary walked down the pier. Dan waited to be sure he was alone before speaking, “Over here. Where’s Rick?”
“He’s posted keeping an eye on ’em.”
“What’s the deal?”
“They met a tug here. Talked with a man, but I couldn’t hear. Then cut back up toward Perry Street. There’s a warehouse a hundred yards south, smells like burning algae…”
“That’d be the ol’ Brannigan Smok’ry. Been closed f’r two years,” Flo offered.
“They’re holed up in…What IS she doing here?”
“Long story. No time,” Dan apologized.
“They’re holed up in a livery barn with wide double doors on each end and bays along the sides. I could see a bunch of fishing gear, nets, and boat rigging. The front left bay is packed with food provisions, and there’s an a big press in one bay alongside several reams of paper. Five minutes ago they started loading a pickup with banded boxes. I’m guessing uncut bills. I haven’t been able to drum up any probable cause, but Rick’s behind some barrels on the lakeside watching through a window.”
“Let me at ’em. I’ll give ’em probabilities. Fifty bills is cause ’nough.”
Gary had a concerned expression.
“Cool your jets, Flo. We’ve done this before, you know,” Dan said. She remained quiet while Gary finished.
“It fits. But, we still don’t have enough to move in.”
“What if I drove the taxi up looking for a fare?” Dan asked. “Might get close enough to see something incriminating. At least scope the place out.”
“Don’t think it’ll help, and they’d recognize you. Best wait. There’s going to be a pow-wow soon. They didn’t meet that boat, or load the truck for exercise.”
“Let’s go back and brief the deputies, and then meet up with Rick,” Dan suggested. “Flo you… Where’d she go?”
“Is it my night to watch her?”
“Hope she didn’t light out for the warehouse. She’ll blow the whole setup.”
“Whose brainstorm was it to bring her along?”
“Nobody’s, ‘cept hers. Somehow it was trump! This whole caper’s a bad dream. She’s just part of it.”
“She can hold her own. Flo’s got street savvy. Let’s get back. She’ll show up.”
“That’s what worries me.”
They walked back to the deputies and quickly briefed them ending with Flo’s disappearance.
“Flo came back,” Arty informed them. “Said you sent her for the taxi, and drove off right before you got here.”
“Where’d she go?” Gary asked.
The deputies shrugged their shoulders.
“Let’s get over to the warehouse – quick!” Dan cried. All four jumped in the cruiser. Arty assigned posts; he and Dan to the front, and Gary with Chester to the back. This gave them radio contact and a plan could be coordinated after reconnoitering. Dan would fetch Rick into their team. They parked behind a plumbing warehouse adjoining the south side of the smok
ehouse concealing the vehicles between bathtub and shower crates. The teams split and headed for their posts.
Dan and Arty hid behind a stack of old plastic barrels and discarded pallets fifteen feet from the doors. They were out of view. As he tried to become accustomed to the sickening sweet musky odor, Dan whispered, “What’s that stench?”
“The barrels. Sour molasses, Worchester or both used to season smoked fish.”
“As long as it ain’t toxic.”
“It’s harmless. Could make you toss your cookies though.”
“I’ll fetch Rick.”
Arty nodded, but a loud scraping “WHAMP” from the street stopped Dan. Both heads turned. A car bottomed out on the uneven driveway. Oh no! It’s Flo!
She approached the doors blowing the taxi’s horn like a fire truck siren. Slowly the left door slid half opened and two men exited. Bathed in the taxi’s headlights, Dan recognized the men from the diner.
“Taxi’s here!”
“We didn’t call a taxi! Get out of here!” Skull shouted.
Flo opened her door and stepped halfway out, “Looks h’re I can’t be wastin’ gas at today’s prices! “Y’us change y’ur mind—fine wit’ me—but fair’s fair. Yy’us ows me a fiver f’r showin up.”
“We don’t owe you a plug nickel,” the second man replied starting to slide the door back. “Now get that hunk of junk out of here!”
“I ain’t goin’ wit’outs m’ gas money!”
“Hey, I know you!” Skull said suspiciously. “You’re the waitress from that Galley place.”
“So’s what? Taxi’s m’ moonlight. Don’t specs me t’ raise m’ young’ns on tips like y’us leaves me. Does y’u?”
“You ain’t moonlightin’ here!” Skull bent over and picked up a broken slat.
Dan started to move to Flo’s defense, but Arty grasped his elbow whispering, “Play this close. Let her run her line out.”
With the threat, she fell back into the driver’s seat, slammed the taxi in gear, floored the accelerator and roared through the doors. Fragments flew and the men jumped.
The taxi struck the rear of the pickup truck inside. Flo slammed the car in reverse. It jerked back and stalled. Skull dropped the board in the melee and headed for her. Flo jumped from the car darting through the barn like a butterfly in a meadow.
Game of the Blues Page 27