Castle Cay (15 page)

“Yes. I expect him this evening.”

“Well, I’m all ears, Julie. I’ll see you in
the morning, then.”

Julie hung up and thought about the sleeping
pills.
The damn bottle was new, not the prescription. Why else
would it be significant to the DA? I’ll check it later.
Still…couldn’t Marc have been prescribed the same drug? No,
probably not; they have to know his medications.

She took the chart down, took it to her room
and slipped it under the bed.

David kept on sleeping.

The second time she answered the phone, it
was Joe.

“Hi! How did the trip to Castle Cay go?”
asked Julie, suddenly aware of how much the damn place was on her
mind these days.

“It went fine, Merlin. I’ve got a lot to tell
you. Will’s flying me to Key West now. I was hoping you could pick
me up, or should I rent a car and check in somewhere?”

“No! I mean…no, don’t rent a car. I’ll pick
you up. David’s asleep, probably for the night. We could stop
somewhere for dinner. I haven’t eaten, have you?”

Joe gave her the time and place, and Julie
hung up.

It only makes sense for him to stay here.
There is an empty bedroom, after all.

* * * * *

T
he wind over the Caribbean was
chasing its own tail southeast of Cuba, but Key West was getting a
typical, late-day thunderstorm, albeit a windy one. It was almost
eight and Julie and Joe were so hungry, they decided not to wait
out the downpour. They jumped out of the VW and ran into the
Rusty Pelican.

The restaurant was cozy, decorated in a
nautical motif. Dimly lit ship’s lanterns reflected on polished
wood, and matching hurricane candles sat on each table. They
requested a booth and were seated right away. Julie picked up a
napkin and used it to dab at her wet face and dripping hair.

“You look good wet,” said Joe.

Suddenly Julie’s face grew warm.

I’m blushing! What am I, a teenager?

Anxious to redirect his attention, she asked,
“So how was the flight in this terrible weather?”

“Nice segue,” said Joe, laughing. “Truth? It
was tough. The nearer we got to Key West, the wind and rain played
havoc with the chopper. Will was as miserable as a cat in a
tub...and he took off just about as fast.”

They were seated in the bar side of the
restaurant, and the young bartender came over and took their food
and drink order. Julie ordered a chardonnay, and Joe an iced tea.
She noticed that there were a few men seated at the bar who were
watching ESPN. Fortunately, the sound was turned down.

It didn’t take long for the young man to
serve their drinks.

“I found out something important from David,”
Julie said, taking a sip.

“What?”

“The night of the murder, Marc and David had
two dinner guests, Rolly Archer, a friend of theirs, and Susan
Dwyer, Marc’s agent. They left together at ten-thirty. In a weak
moment this afternoon, David told me that Rolly came back later and
they spent the whole night together. He said they found Marc’s body
together
.”

“Holy shit! He hasn’t told the police
that?”

“No. I think he’s in love with Rolly.”

“That guy could have done it!” said Joe.

“That’s what I said. David refuses to
consider the possibility. He said he ‘knows Rolly never left his
side’.”

“He’s got to tell the cops, Julie.”

She nodded. “He’s going to tell Jake Goldman
in the morning.”

“It’s going to make him look guilty as hell,
you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, sighing in
resignation.

“Tell me about your trip to Castle Cay.”

“Well, I think there’s been some changes
since you were there…”

Joe proceeded to tell her everything;
everything except for Al Drum’s recounting of her honeymoon ordeal,
which had pierced Joe’s heart and explained a lot. He hoped that
Julie, herself, would decide to share that with him. In any case,
this certainly wasn’t the time to bring it up.

“Anyhow, Merlin, the airstrip and the cement
block buildings…there’s no doubt they were built by drug
traffickers. And the caretaker, John Drum, was fired in 1994 by the
Solomon family.”

“The Solomon
family
? That had to mean
Avram
,”
said Julie. “Marc’s mother died on Castle Cay in
1993. According to her brother, none of the family went there after
that. I know Marc never did…plus, it was in the trust, which was
managed by Avram! Do you think he knew about the drugs?”

“Maybe. Maybe that ties into your suspicions
about his business, too.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised! I think Avram is a
pathological liar, Joe. Matt Castle thinks so, too, and he’s known
him all his life. I’m also sure that Avram
hated
Marc. But
he has an airtight alibi; he was definitely in Boston. And damn it,
I just can’t see what he would gain from selling the island, since
the proceeds don’t even go to him.”

“So the sale is done?” asked Joe.

“No. Pending, I think. I met with the agent
at Island World Realty in Miami who’s handling the sale. His name
is Frank Martino. He stands to make a serious commission. He’s the
listing
and
selling agent,” she added.

“Miami isn’t far from here, Julie.”

“Yeah, I was thinking that, too,” she said.
“Also, I suspect that Marc never signed the sales agreement.
Martino thought I was a real estate agent and he made a point of
telling me that Avram, as trustee, could sign the deal.”

“So you think that Marc didn’t want to
sell?”

“That’s the weird part, Joe. From all
accounts, he
did
want to sell.”

The two of them, stymied, suspended
conversation for a while and dug into their broiled grouper.

Julie put down her fork and looked up.

“I was thinking, Joe…Jake Goldman is coming
tomorrow morning to see David. I told him that you were working
with me on this, and he asked to see the two of us, as well. Why
don’t you stay at the house?” She hastened to add, “There
’s
an extra bedroom…”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Julie smiled along with him…for the first
time.

They looked outside and decided to wait a
little longer to see if the rain might let up. Over coffee, their
conversation turned to other subjects…life in Orlando…the
weather.

The bartender had raised the volume, and they
turned toward the television. On screen, a weather channel reporter
was talking about tropical storm Carlo and the deluge it was
dumping in Haiti.

•

It was ten-thirty by the time they arrived at
David’s house. Julie had left very few lights on and she surmised
that David was still asleep because it was still dark inside. As
she closed the front door behind them, she flipped on the
gallery-light switch illuminating the paintings all around the
walls.

“Wow!” said Joe, transfixed.

“I know. Aren’t they beautiful?”

“They’re the essence of Key West…the way it
feels
.”

Julie was surprised at Joe’s succinct
appreciation of Marc’s art.
There’s more to him than meets the
eye.

“I’ll show you his studio in the morning,
Joe. You really can’t appreciate it at night. You must be tired; I
know I am.”

She turned right into the hallway, leading
the way to the bedroom at the end, which she had made up for him
earlier. But she didn’t walk into it. Instead, she stood awkwardly
in the narrow hallway, sort of ushering him in. “The bathroom is
over there,” she said, “and my room is over here.”

I can’t believe I said that!

Joe looked at her with his eyebrows raised
and a slight smile, his eyes dropping to her mouth and then rising
back up to her eyes. He squeezed past her.

“Well, then…goodnight,” he said, as he closed
his door.

“Yes, goodnight.”

Julie bit her lip softly, unconsciously.

Definitely more to him…

* * * * *

G
uy Tambini was at his father’s house
in Newton, Massachusetts, just west of Boston. He was very
uncomfortable; he didn’t like being reprimanded by his father,
Silvio, especially in front of one of his men. It was humiliating,
and it was all because of that prick, Avram Solomon.

The family had certain cops and FBI agents
who kept them informed about things. Avram Solomon’s name had come
up in an FBI meeting. Apparently, an agent named “Dixon” was asking
if anyone “had anything” on Solomon.

“So? They don’t have anything on him,” said
Guy.

“Yeah? Well, they will, if they start
looking,” said Silvio.

Guy had first met with Avram Solomon in 1994
to talk about Castle Cay, and he had to admit that the arrogant
bastard had balls. Avram had heard about the construction activity
on the eastern side of the island from Drum, the caretaker. He’d
immediately gone to the island and headed for the site on
horseback.

Of course, Guy’s armed guards stopped
him.

Avram blew a gasket.

“
I
own the fucking place”
, he
said and demanded to be taken to the person in charge
.
As if
he was in a position to demand anything, surrounded by guys holding
rifles! But his audacity worked. They led him to Joey Tedesco, who
was overseeing things.

Avram never even got off his horse.

“
You tell your boss that I want to meet
him in Boston. My family owns this fucking island, and I’m ready to
make things a lot easier for him.”

With that, he’d handed Joey a piece of paper
with his name and phone number, wheeled his horse around and left…
unimpeded.

Guy had set up a meeting with him right
afterwards. It was agreed that Avram would get a piece of the
action for getting rid of the caretaker, and for allowing the
Tambini family unfettered and unreported use of Castle Cay.

By 2006, the Caribbean had gotten too hot,
what with Homeland Security and the Bahamian government cooperating
with the Feds. They’d shut the route down. It was easier to get the
drugs in over the Mexico-California border.

They were still dealing with Avram Solomon,
though. They stored the stuff in an old, closed up gas station on a
corner lot owned by him, next to Solomon’s Boston store. There was
also a lab built into the back of a warehouse surrounded by woods,
behind a storage lot Solomon owned in Waltham.

It was worth it to the Tambini family not to
have these places in their name. Avram Solomon had balls of steel
and no scruples…and they paid him well for it. But he was a greedy
bastard…too greedy for his own good.

“You let Solomon know that he better keep a
low profile if he wants to keep our business,” said Silvio in quiet
voice that no one took lightly.

•

Avram was on the phone for some time,
reassuring Guy Tambini that there was “nothing to worry about”.
When he was finally able to hang up, he was thoroughly irked. He
knew that, somehow, the inquiry at the FBI had originated with that
bitch, Julie O’Hara.

First, there was the problem of his brother
deciding out of the blue to visit Castle Cay…and now this!

I need to dump that fucking island. Why
couldn’t the fag just sign the papers? Forty fucking million? This
should have been so simple!

The cruise line had no interest in Castle
Cay’s history, other than the Blackbeard legend. They planned to
build over everything, to convert the island into a pirate-themed
port. From Avram’s view, that would physically and psychologically
erase the island’s connection to drug trafficking…and to
himself.

At least the Keystone Kops arrested David
Harris. I wish him a speedy trial.

* * * * *

J
ulie awoke to a soft tapping on her
bedroom door.

“Julie? It’s me…David.”

“Hmm, c’mon in,” she said.

David entered, closing the door behind him,
and sat on the wicker chair near the bed. He was wearing light
khaki shorts and a matching shirt. His blond hair was parted in the
middle and it fell on either side of his face. With the electronic
ankle cuff on, Julie thought he looked like a forlorn cocker
spaniel with his collar in the wrong place.

“I’m sorry, Julie,” he said. “I know it was
lousy of me to lie to you about Rolly. We knew it didn’t look good,
our being together; and we
both
thought Marc had killed
himself.”

“It’s all right, David, people do strange
things under stress. But you have to tell your lawyer, you know. By
the way, Jake called while you were sleeping yesterday. He’s coming
over this morning about ten. What time is it? “

“It’s eight o’clock,” he said.

“I better get dressed,” she said, getting out
of bed. “Oh, did you get my note about Joe Garrett staying here? I
hope that’s okay?”

“Oh, yes. It’s fine. He’s already up.
Listen…there’s something else I didn’t tell you, Julie. About
Rolly. He was convicted on a drug charge, ‘possession’, and he’s on
probation. That was another reason that we didn’t want to say that
he was here.”

“Drugs? What kind of a person is he? What do
you really know about this guy, David?”

“It was only marijuana, and he didn’t even
buy it for himself!”

Oh, my God. Naïve doesn’t begin to
describe you,
thought Julie. Holding her tongue, she said,
“Well, whatever he is, you’ve got to tell Jake Goldman.”

“I know,” he said. “I called Rolly this
morning and told him I was going to do that. I felt it was only
fair to warn him.”

Brilliant.

“Hmm. Well, let me get dressed before Jake
gets here,” she said.

David left, and Julie sat for a moment just
shaking her head in bewilderment. His innocence and trust were
truly amazing.

It would have made it easy for Rolly…

Julie got up and took a quick shower.
Afterwards, she put on some shorts and a tee shirt and joined David
and Joe in the kitchen. The French doors facing the water were
open, and a warm breeze filled the house with fresh, salty air. She
noticed that there were a few clouds but, for the most part, it was
sunny.