Read Clint Faraday Mysteries Collection B :This Job is Murder Collector's Edition Online
Authors: CD Moulton
Tags: #adventure, #detective, #intrigue, #murder mysteries, #clint faraday
He got a silly grin on his face. “It won’t
work, pal!” he exclaimed.
“
What won’t work?” Judi
asked.
“
A scheme within a scheme within a
scheme. I wonder if that’s the whole thing?”
“
You never make any damned
sense!”
“
Nothing about this does unless you
look at it from.... I don’t know if this is fun or scary or just so
screwed up it can’t ... I’ll know more by morning – but will it be
enough?
“
Judi, there’s a person involved in
this no one suspects. I think I know who.”
“
I won’t even ask what you’re blabbing
about.”
“
I wonder. Do any of them have a
clue?”
“
About what?”
“
About anything at all. I think we’re
in the middle of a bunch of crooked idiots! I really
do!”
Judi knew he wouldn’t make any sense. He had
figured what was going on and how to counter it or something. She
would learn about it when it was done.
They soon said their “Good lucks!” and hung
up. Clint went to Andres’ place and looked over the hundreds of
orchids etc. Dave had planted there. Andres said he couldn’t
believe it, but he was getting really interested in the things. He
never had any idea there were so many different kinds. He had
planted more than two hundred plants there – and no two were the
same species! Some of the tiny bright flowers were amazingly
beautiful when you magnified them!
He then went to the homes (Indios don’t live
in houses. They live in homes) of friends until nearly midnight,
then went to bed. Tomorrow would prove interesting.
In the early morning Moises took Clint to the
Century. Clint called out, but there was no answer. He sighed and
said for Moises to come with him to see if any of them were still
alive.
Valdez was. Just barely. Zacharia was dead by
the tent. Valdez was unconscious near the fire. The Littletons were
in their tent, him with his head split open and her from having her
head almost severed with a machete.
“
I wish I knew what poison she fed
them,” Clint complained. “I might even try to keep him alive to
hear his explanation of this crap!”
He remembered the purse Gina had taken into
the restroom in Chiriqui Grande and looked for it. It was there. It
had a syringe with about a third of a reddish-yellow liquid still
in the barrel. She had apparently injected the stuff into the juice
cartons with the ultra-thin needle. That small a hole would seal
itself almost entirely in those paper cartons.
Clint smelled it, but it wasn’t cyanide and
he knew it. It had a sweet smell not unlike burnt maple syrup.
Moises smelled it and said he thought it was
Sangria del Diablo. If Valdez lived he would be a vegetable. It ate
parts of the mind up. The Cuna Yala used it some. He had no idea
how Littleton got hold of any. They would never trust a gringo with
it. Period!
Clint thought a minute, then suggested Moises
report the finding of the bodies when he went to ask why those
people were on the comarca without permission. In about two hours.
Valdez wouldn’t live that long without attention. It was better he
died than that he live in a vegetative state for others to take
care of.
Moises agreed. He would come out tomorrow to
ask what the strangers were doing there.
Clint found the maps and the camera. He took
some correspondence in a locked case. A name he was beginning to
suspect was in the case. Gina Littleton had the key in that purse
where he found the syringe.
“
Clint, take the poison,” Moises
requested. “I think it was to appear that my people did this. The
person or persons behind it do not know that the poison is not used
here. It is from the Cuna.”
Clint agreed and took the syringe and a small
bottle that seemed to be where she carried the stuff. He went
through a lot of other things, but didn’t find much.
When they were leaving a small boy came from
the forest and asked why all the gringos were dead.
“
Because they were very evil,” Moises
replied. “They were trying to make it look like our people did
this, but they knew not enough. It is better that you did not and
do not know anything about them except that they had a camp here.
You do not know of anything past yesterday morning because you have
to work with the family and have no time for these strange and evil
people.”
This was, of course, in the dialect. Clint
spoke it fairly well so knew what was said. The boy would be very
careful to not let anyone except his family know anything about it.
He would never say anything to anyone and would answer as Moises
requested if anyone ever asked him about them.
The boy said “Coin dega,”(Good morning) to
Clint and went up the beach and into the forest. Clint knew the
home was somewhere close by, probably back from the beach half a
kilometer and by the stream that came out here.
Clint and Moises searched a bit more in the
area, went through the Century very carefully, where Moises found
some papers hidden under the console along with an old .38 Police
Special.
There was a permit with the pistol
authorizing Conway Goins to carry it.
Interesting. Clint considered taking it,
changed his mind, then said, “To hell with it! It could be
important!” and took it.
They got into Moises’ cayuca and went back to
Cusapín.
Judi had called while he was out of range of
the celular. He called her to hear, “Clint, Goins is acting a
little strange, according to Gena Castilas. He seems to be scared
of something and is more or less in hiding. His lawyer is Elena
Vargas. She thinks two people from Colombia or somewhere are using
the same one – and that Goins didn’t know that until yesterday when
he got some kind of information from the bank about their account.
She doesn’t know what’s going on. Vargas and Goins having the same
lawyer in a deal with him and some gringos and none of them seemed
to know about any others.
“
Vargas is known to be corrupt as they
come. Maybe she was doing the old Panamanian thing – representing
both sides in a case and she comes out the only winner.
“
Does that help?”
“
If you only knew! It makes my suspect
list turn upside down! Judi, I don’t know what I’d do without you
and Dave finding odd things for me.
“
The whole bunch out here are dead, but
you don’t know anything about that until the police announce it,
Okay? I’m not supposed to know, either.”
“
So you found the bodies? What
happened? Somebody they were working a scam on found
them?”
Clint laughed. “The schemes were with them
working to screw each other out of a fortune. I’ll tell you about
it when I get back. It would be funny as hell if the Nesmiths
hadn’t been offed.”
“
Which ones did that?” Judi asked. “I
really don’t have a clue about what you’re saying, but it’s
fascinating!”
“
They all did that, or manipulated the
others into doing it. Now they only have ... I think I should go to
Puerto Armuelles, all innocence and, `Oh! Gee whiz and golly-gosh!
Look at what happened to all those lovely people! I really am
wondering, why would anyone do such a terrible thing?!’ or
something.”
“
Clint, be careful!”
“
THAT is something that doesn’t need
saying. Thanks, Judi.”
They chatted a few minutes about their
friends in Bocas, then said they’d keep in close touch. If anyone
asked about anything at all to do with this she would put on her
airheaded bimbo act.
Clint couldn’t suddenly go to Puerto
Armuelles. He had to wait until Moises “found” the bodies and
called him to report the deaths. He went to Basilio’s place and
they talked about the world and how it had gone to hell everywhere
except the comarcas. Clint turned in about one.
“
Clint, I am here with Capitan Oliveros
of the Policia Nacional,” Moises said when he called at a few
minutes past ten in the morning. “It seems those gringos I told you
about are all dead.”
Clint knew the celular was on speaker because
he could here the background noise, so answered, “What does that
have to do with you? They aren’t in Chiriqui Grande?”
“
No. They had a camp here on the
comarca, maybe four kilometers from Cusapín. Two of them are dead
and the policia can’t find why. The other two were killed with a
machete or hatchet or something.”
Another voice came on then. “This is Thomas
Oliveros. I worked with you a few months ago in David when those
people from the Estados Unidas were trying to find the woman in
Peru.
“
Clint, this looks damned suspicious.
It looks like the gringos people had poisoned the two Latinos and
the Latinos killed them for it or ... that doesn’t fit because she
would not have been in the tent.
“
I agree with Moises. Someone else did
it and is trying to make it appear the indigenos killed them or
something. Moises tells me you may know something about it because
you were with him a couple of days ago when he confronted them
about taking things from the comarca without permiso. They told you
they were doctors investigating new medicines or
something?”
“
That’s what they said, but they didn’t
know anything at all about medicinal plants and didn’t even have a
camera with them. Two of them were murdered out there three days
ago. The Nesmith people.”
“
They were ... Moises, why didn’t you
tell me that?”
“
You didn’t ask. I didn’t know it was
that important.”
Clint almost giggled out loud. Moises could
pull that off. “Gee! I didn’t think the fact two other gringos we
saw with this bunch getting murdered a couple of days earlier in
the same area was something to do one with the other.”
Oliveros sighed. “I can never figure what the
indigenos consider to be important information. They have these
little things that don’t connect in their minds for some
reason.”
“
That kind of information won’t connect
unless someone suggests it,” Clint said, hiding the laughter in his
voice behind a cough. “It isn’t pertinent to life on the comarca.
It seems to be something that happens to a lot of gringos. Such a
sad lifestyle.”
“
I often wish that I could be as basic
as they are. They have a really enviable life.”
They chatted a few minutes longer. Moises
came back on to say he would be back later if this policia thing
didn’t delay him. He had to tally all the coffee and cocoa being
dried so they could take it to the market in Chiriqui Grande. His
wife was out of rice and was giving him lectures about neglecting
the home needs. Clint could picture the exasperation on Oliveros’
face. Four murders and the one who found the bodies is worried
about getting on the bad side of his wife for not bringing the rice
on time! They soon rang off. Clint now had a perfect excuse to go
to Puerto Armuelles to consult with Goins about this strange set of
events – and what the hell is it all about?
Port Call
Clint got off the bus and saw Goins standing
in the doorway to a small local restaurant. He had called and said
he was on the way. Goins was obviously trying to keep out of
sight.
“
Hi! Let’s grab a beer. I’ve done
nothing but ride buses all day,” Clint greeted.
“
Er, I have beer and some good stuff to
snack on in my apartment,” Goins replied. “I want to lay low until
I find out what’s going on.
“
You just said all of them are dead?
Even Valdez and company?
“
I thought they were running the scam.
Why would they be dead?”
“
Everybody in this mess is running
scams. All of them have backfired except the top rung. You ain’t
it, much as you thought you were,” Clint said dryly.
Goins didn’t deny it. He looked scared and
sick. Clint walked with him to his apartment where he had to go
through three sets of locked doors to get into his apartment. Clint
looked around the setup and shook his head.
“
What?”
Clint gave Goins a look of pure pity. “You
have all those locked doors and bars except for that big glass door
onto your balcony?”
Goins looked shocked and mumbled that the
balcony wasn’t where anyone could get to it.
“
Crap! I can come over that roof and
drop onto it without even using a security rope.”
“
I’d hear you on that zinc
roof!”
“
Not if you’re not here when I come
in.” Clint inspected the door and asked if Goins always left it
unlocked.
“
Never!”
“
Then someone’s already been through it
since you last checked it,” Clint warned. “You can get past the
lock on these doors like this.”
He locked the door catch, inserted the blade
of his pocket knife under the door and pried up. The whole side of
the door raised about a quarter inch. Clint dropped it back and
slid the door open.
“
All you have to do is slide the stop
over the lock and you can’t do that.”
“
God! I never thought about that! I
just snap the lock shut!”
“
Well, now that the horses are stolen
you can lock the barn. Got Balboa?”
Goins was shaky and pale. Clint was enjoying
that. Goins got the beer from the ‘fridge and poured himself a
double Chivas Regal on the rocks. They sat at the kitchen
table.