River Mourn

by Bill Hopkins

Chapter 16

  Thursday Afternoon

  Although sounds were muffled by the wooden crate, Rosswell heard someone he assumed was Charlie Heckle shuffle into the alley.

  "You Ollie?"

  Ollie planted his carcass directly in front of Rosswell's line of sight. He groaned in frustration. He didn't want to see Ollie's butt, he wanted to see Charlie's face.

  "I am Ollie Groton."

  "You got something for me?"

  "Who are you?"

  Ollie shunted to the side so Rosswell, if he placed his eyeglasses on a spot between a couple of slats, could see a man about five and a half feet tall, brown hair, with a big scar on his face. Ollie had earlier told Rosswell that Captain LaFaire's description of all the men on the ferry were vanilla. This one was vanilla with a scar.

  "Charlie Heckle."

  The man had hesitated a couple of seconds. Aha! Using an alias! When asked their name, people generally respond quickly or not at all. But waiting for a microsecond too long meant that the person had something to hide.

  Ollie held out the sack of coins. "I've got something for you."

  Ollie blocked the view again. Rosswell heard the crinkle of a paper bag and the jingling of coins. Charlie checking to make sure all his money was there. More crinkling. More jingling. Charlie stuffing the bag in his pocket. Charlie was dead if he stayed in Ste. Gen after this meeting. The money would be enough to get him out of town. Six hundred dollars might take him to New Orleans or Detroit or Denver or Louisville. Rosswell couldn't deduce Charlie's plan. Why was Charlie even talking to Ollie? Was the scar-faced man that desperate to get away from Nathaniel? Obviously. Charlie realized that the paper bag had enough money to get his sorry ass out of Nathaniel's sight.

  Ollie said, "What is it you want to tell me?"

  "Nathaniel is running River Heights Villa."

  "I know. It's in the phone book. County records show him buying the place ten years ago."

  "He's smuggling dope."

  "I know that, too."

  "He killed Ribs Freshwater and he's after Judge Carew."

  "Give me the silver back, Charlie. You haven't told me anything I don't already know."

  "No, wait." Rosswell detected a change in Charlie's breathing. He panted. Charlie was in the throes of a major stress attack.

  Rosswell's suspicions were confirmed. Heckle needed that silver to run away.

  Ants proceeded to climb up Rosswell's leg, the biggest ants he'd ever seen. Red, big ants. Fire ants. Did Ste. Gen have fire ants? There was a rumor going around that fire ants had hitched a ride on hay shipped from Florida a couple of years ago. Rosswell tried to quiet himself. He'd heard that if you were real still, fire ants wouldn't bite. That quickly proved to be an old wives' tale. A couple of the nasty critters injected hot needles into him. Rosswell bit his tongue to keep the moan forming deep in his chest from spilling out of his mouth. As an additional measure, he slapped his palm across his mouth. The box stank. He was burning up. Fire ants devoured him.

  Rosswell moaned. He clamped his hand harder across his mouth. Had they heard him? Another look through the slats confirmed they had not.

  "Come on, Charlie. It's hot and you're wasting my time. Hand over the money."

  Ollie held out his hand.

  "The dead woman's in a cave."

  Ollie dropped his hand.

  Holy crap! Rosswell held his breath, not wanting to miss a single syllable of what Charlie said. A couple of ants explored his face. He couldn't believe something so little could make him burn like the devil. He mashed as many of the little bastards as he could. The slightest noise must be avoided. Charlie teetered on the verge of giving Ollie enough info to find the dead woman. If they found her body, Sheriff Fribeau would want Rosswell to stay and help investigate. Right? Rosswell brushed at the ants he'd missed killing, hoping he wasn't making any noise. The stench of the ant's defensive formic acid bit his nose and made his mouth feel like he was chewing copper.

  "What dead woman?"

  That's right, Ollie. Make him say it. If it's Tina, then that's the end of me.

  "The one Ribs threw off the ferry."

  Hallelujah! That wasn't Tina!

  "Was she dead when Ribs threw her off the ferry?"

  "Yeah."

  "How come no one saw Ribs throw her off?"

  "I didn't know he was going to do that. All I was supposed to do was bang the side of the boat and get everybody's attention. Ribs told me he was going to dump a load of dope because the cops were closing in. I didn't know nothing about no dead woman."

  Lying sack of crap. Charlie didn't know there was a dead woman in the van? Right. And I have a hundred acres of swampland in Nevada for sale cheap.

  "How do you know where she is now?"

  "Me and Ribs went looking for her and found her stuck on a log. We drug her up the cliff to a cave and put her in there."

  Rosswell wondered why they didn't put the dead woman in the cave in the first place. Why throw her off the ferry?

  "Why did you throw her in the river if you knew you needed her body later?"

  Good one, Ollie.

  "I didn't know nothing. I did what I was told."

  "Where's this cave?"

  "On the river."

  Rosswell couldn't decide whether the ants crawling on both of his legs or Charlie's evasive answers were irritating him worse.

  Ollie said, "Any landmarks?"

  "What's a landmark?"

  "Tell me how to get from here to the cave where the woman's body is."

  Judging by Ollie's tone, Rosswell could tell that he'd reached the point of a screaming rage and systematic thumping party, with Charlie being the only guest. This was the problem when Rosswell wasn't present when Ollie interviewed suspects. Ollie's tolerance for frustration was exceptionally low. Rosswell should be standing next to Ollie, not sitting in a wooden crate roasting in the heat and suffering from the bites of industrious ants.

  Charlie said, "There's that big bluff with all the trees and shit on it. Look out-"

  A loud beeping interrupted Charlie.

  Ollie yelled, "Charlie, get back here." No answer from Charlie.

  Rosswell heard a whistle from the train track running through town a couple of blocks away.

  Charlie's gone, jumping the southbound train. Next stop, Memphis, Tennessee.

  "Hey. You." A new voice. A guy on foot.

  Ollie said, "What?"

  A second new voice. "Get out the way. We're hauling trash." A guy driving a trash truck.

  The beeping started again. Through a crack, Rosswell watched the truck backing up to the garbage bin next to him. The claw grabbed the bin. Upended it into the maw of the truck. The guy on foot said, "Make kindling and I'll load it." The guy motioned the truck to back up. A huge pair of metal arms slid into either side of the box. Cracking sounds split the air. The metal arms splintered the wood.

  Rosswell missed death by inches.

  "Stop!" He pushed the lid off the box. "Time to leave."

  "Freaking frost!" Ollie said. "What're you doing in that box?"

  "I can't get out."

  The guy on foot and Ollie grabbed Rosswell and tugged him out of the crate.

  The truck driver said to Rosswell and Ollie, "You fricking bums gotta stay out of boxes and bins and stuff. We don't wanna kill youse."

  The guy on foot stared at Ollie and Rosswell. "You're dressed awful good for bums. You steal them clothes?"

  Ollie said, "We worked for these clothes. We don't steal."

  Rosswell brushed ants and brushed more ants till he was certain he was free from all of the nasty things. "Thanks. We won't bother you anymore."

  "Hey," said the driver to Rosswell. "You look familiar."

  Rosswell recognized the man he'd given a divorce to earlier in the week. "No, you don't know me. I got into town early this morning and, in fact, I'm leaving right this very instant." Several stray ants worked themselves out of Rosswell's hair.

  "That's right,
" Ollie said. "This is my cousin from Paducah. He's had some hard times and he's headed for Chicago, looking for work."

  The driver raced the engine and waved them off. "Get outta here. We're running behind."

  After Mabel barred Rosswell and Ollie from the restaurant, claiming that their appearance and smell were offensive, the disgraced pair sat on a bench in front of the courthouse. Rosswell said a prayer of thanks to the Goddess of Good Fortune that the place had closed for the day. He certainly wouldn't want one of the court clerks to see him smelly and dirty.

  "Ollie, if this detective work keeps up the way it's been going so far, I'll be forced to declare bankruptcy."

  "There are six ants dancing down your pants leg."

  "I hate fire ants!" Rosswell brushed the offending critters onto the sidewalk.

  "If you'd been attacked by fire ants, you'd be lying in the alley screaming. The ones in the alley are Pogonomyrmex barbatus. Although generally found more southwest of here-"

  "Forget it!" Rosswell stomped on every ant he could find. "Back to detective stuff. Maman was talking about two caves. That's why Lazar came down on me so hard for not listening to what she'd said."

  "We went in two caves."

  "I mean two separate caves. Where we were counted as one cave with two rooms."

  "Maybe, maybe not." Ollie placed his fingers over his mouth in a thinking gesture. After he sniffed, he rubbed his hands on his pants and left them at his side. "Tell me again what Maman said."

  " 'Cave of one eye have much treasure. Cave of blind eye, she holds a treasure but not what you seek.' "

  Rosswell wiped his hands on his pants, then rubbed the sweat from his face with his shirtsleeve. A cloud passed over the sun, lowering the temperature maybe a half-degree.

  "Judge, we screwed up."

  "I just said that very thing. There are two separate caves, not one cave with two rooms. There's a cave of one eye and a cave of blind eye. Which one did we go into?"

  "I'm guessing cave of blind eye, since it was next to a cave with light. The cave with light didn't count to Maman. The blind cave held a treasure, which was Ribs Freshwater's body, but it wasn't what we were seeking. We need to find the cave of one eye which has much treasure."

  "The dead woman."

  "Judge Carew, the cigar is in the mail."

  "However, Ribs's body wasn't exactly a treasure."

  Ollie stood. "Let's go tell the sheriff."

  "No. If I'm right, the Fribeau network connects directly to Nathaniel."