Decker's Dilemma (9 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

1905, Wednesday, January 8

Rush hour Olongapo style. Trikes and jeepneys jockeyed for position, horns blaring, zigzagging through the maze of streets. Lost in jumbled thoughts about Vega and Alan Sumner and Chief Fray, Decker hadn't noticed the yellow and red trike that pulled within a few feet of the motorcycle. Rusty waved with his left hand for the guy to pass, but the driver stayed in position. Rusty yelled something in Tagalog and then turned to Decker. “Must be
loco, pare
.”

Decker glanced behind him, but couldn't see anyone in the side car and the bike's decorative top obscured the driver's face. But Decker did notice a gun appear in the driver's hand as the trike pulled alongside. Rusty saw it too and swerved just as a shot was fired. He put on his brakes to let the trike pass, but the driver, as skilled as Rusty, slowed and pulled in front to block Rusty's path. Thinking quickly, Rusty slammed on the brakes, executed a perfect 180, and sped back towards base.

Decker turned and saw the trike resume the chase. “Head to Magsaysay,” he shouted to Rusty. But it was too late. The trike, a bigger and faster bike, gained on them until the driver pulled alongside, aimed his weapon, and fired two more shots.

“Watch out,
pare
,” yelled Rusty, as the bike crashed headfirst into a roadside, open air
sari sari
store. Decker flew out the sidecar and tumbled over the store's counter, crashing into a large sack of rice. Rusty held on to the bike as long as he could as it slid to a stop on its side. As Decker recovered his senses, he did a quick check of his hands and feet.

“Everything still works,” he mumbled, and pulled himself to his knees to peer over the counter. Two young Filipinas rushed to his side, asking if he was alright.

The girls helped Decker to his feet in the middle of merchandise strewn across the floor. He shook himself off and saw the trike, its front tire still spinning as Rusty pulled himself from under from the wreck. With a crowd of onlookers gathering, Decker rushed to Rusty's side and saw blood running down his left leg. A young woman appeared at his side with a towel, and Decker wrapped Rusty's leg as best he could.

“You hurt anywhere else?”

“Don't think so,” Rusty whispered. “Sorry I couldn't get you to Vega's.”

Decker held Rusty's head off the hard concrete of the street. “That's the least of our worries. We've got to get you to the hospital.”

Decker took out his wallet and opened it. Forty-eight dollars and a hundred twenty-five pesos. He gave Rusty most of the cash and helped him into another trike for the ride to the hospital. With no phone nearby, Decker tore a page from his notebook, scribbled a note, and wrote an address across the top of the page. He gave forty pesos to a kid standing nearby and sent him to deliver the message to Rusty's wife. Decker picked up the spilled trike and paid another kid eighty pesos to walk it to Rusty's house.

Decker walked to the
sari sari
store and examined the damage, wondering how much it was going to cost him. A police siren behind him gave him pause. He turned and saw a brown Toyota 4Runner pull up several yards from the scene. A middle-aged man exited the vehicle's driver side. He had on jeans, a light blue polo shirt, and a police baseball cap. A young Filipina emerged from the passenger side. White blouse, khaki pants, and a similar police ball cap. Two more cops rode to the scene on bicycles and started clearing the area of bystanders. The man and woman walked towards Decker.

Decker smiled. “You're a sight for sore eyes.”

Vega grimaced at Decker's familiarity. She gestured with her left hand to the man standing next to her. “This is Inspector Navarro. What happened?”

Decker explained the trike chase and gunshots and how Rusty crashed his bike. He described the Filipino who grabbed his arm at the trike stand, but was unsure if it was the same man. He assured Vega and Inspector Navarro that Rusty was on his way to the hospital, injured but otherwise doing well.

The inspector raised his eyebrows. “Is that what really happened?”

“Of course that's what really happened,” said Decker. “Ask the fifty people who witnessed it. We could've been killed.”

Inspector Navarro crossed his arms. “No need to get angry with me, young man. I just find it strange that someone would want to follow you and shoot at you. Does not make sense to me.” He turned to Vega. “It appears this man knows you. What's his name?”

“Decker. Elliott Decker, sir. He's a friend of mine.”

The Inspector smiled. “I see. Navy, not Marines, I presume from your haircut.”

“Yes, navy. I'm stationed on the
Harvey
.”

The inspector reached for a notebook in his back pocket. “Interesting. Where were you earlier this evening?”

“Cal Jam for a little while. That was the only place I've been.”

“Cal Jam, huh? Nice place. Don't go there myself. Too many sailors, but they have pretty girls.” He leered at Vega. “But pretty girls are everywhere.”

Vega ignored the comment and focused on Decker. “Did you get a look at him? The trike driver?”

“No, I couldn't see his face. Just that it was a man. Maybe Rusty can tell you more, but the guy was wearing a cap and he had a cover on his trike that blocked the view of his face.

Vega nodded. “What about his trike? Can you describe it?”

Decker shook his head. “Only that it was red and yellow. But half the trikes in town are red and yellow.”

Inspector Navarro looked both ways along with street. “Where were you headed, Mr. Decker. Do you live around here?”

Vega urged him with her eyes to fib. Decker then remembered Lee lived somewhere in the area. “I was going to visit a friend,” he said. “His girlfriend lives nearby.”

“And does this supposed friend and his girlfriend have names?”

Decker hesitated but Vega nodded for him to cooperate. “Hack and Lee.”

Inspector Navarro eyes narrowed. “I thought you said one was a girlfriend?”

“It is. Her name's Leeandra Mansfield. She goes by Lee. My friend is Hack Wilson. But I don't see why it matters who they are.”

The inspector scowled. “It's not for you to ask questions, Mr. Decker.” He adjusted himself in front of everyone, forcing Vega to look away and rolled her eyes. He cleared his throat. “It is very interesting. I believe I know the girl who you speak of. A pretty American girl. Perhaps I should take her down to the station for questioning someday.”

Decker didn't like what the inspector was intimating about Lee, but, he had no desire for a confrontation with the police chief. He knew the inspector was fishing for something, and he wasn't in the mood to play along. He had no idea why someone would want to shoot at him. Maybe Chief Fray was behind it or perhaps the guy was after Rusty and he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

To Decker's great relief, Inspector Navarro scribbled a few lines in his notebook and ended the interview. “Be careful, young man. I hate to see sailors get involved in local grudge matches. We'll talk to this Rusty at the hospital and get his statement.”

“I'm not involved in anything,” Decker said.

The inspector raised an eyebrow. “Good, then keep it that way. I have to go now and I hope our paths never cross again.”

“Me, too” said Decker, but the inspector was already walking towards his truck, talking with two male police officers.

Vega moved close to Decker, keeping a careful watch on the inspector. “Are you okay? I couldn't believe my eyes when we pulled up and I saw it was you.”

“I'm fine,” Decker said. “I'm glad you showed up.” He pointed discretely at Navarro who was standing with a foot on the front bumper of his vehicle issuing orders to his men. “That guy's a jackass. How do you put up with it?”

“It's not easy,” Vega said. “But I have to if I want to have any shot at advancement.”

Decker wiped the sweat from his forehead. “It's hot out in the street like this. You're about to get off work, right?”

“Not too much longer,” she said. “Depends on how long it takes to get the paperwork wrapped up for this.”

“I was actually heading to your place. Can I meet you there later?”

Vega shuffled her feet. “Not tonight, okay? But let's get together soon. We have to talk.” She turned and jogged back to Navarro's truck before Decker could answer.

Decker watched her move away, annoyed at himself that he was admiring her butt in the tight khakis. “We have to talk. That's never a good thing,” Decker said out loud.

A voice from behind startled him. “You need to get your head looked at. You're starting to talk to yourself.”

Decker whirled around. “What are you doing here?”

Hack grinned. “I was in front of Lee's apartment and heard the commotion. By the time I saw that it was you, the police showed up, and I didn't want to get involved.”

“Smart thinking,” Decker said. “I had the pleasure of meeting Vega's boss, the Supreme Jackass himself, Inspector Navarro.”

“I don't feel so bad about staying away. What happened anyway? Where's Rusty?”

Decker told Hack about the chase and shooting, Rusty's injuries, and his conversation with Inspector Navarro and Vega.

Hack shook his head in disbelief. “Well, Lee's not home. She must be still at work. Let's go back to Cal Jam.”

“Good idea,” said Decker. “Maybe Mo's there by now. But let's take the backstreets. That guy could still be out there.” Decker looked again at the wrecked
sari sari
store. “How much money do you have on you? I gave all I had to Rusty to pay his doctor's bill.”

Hack opened his wallet and counted the bills. “Twenty-eight dollars and a few pesos.”

Decker reached in and took the money from Hack. “I'll pay you back. This'll help get the store put back together.” He handed the money to one of the young women cleaning up the mess.

She smiled and bowed her head. “
Salamat po
, sir.”

“
Walang anuman
,” said Decker. “I'll come by tomorrow and see if that's enough to cover the damages.” He turned to Hack. “I need a beer.”

Hack cocked his head. “I didn't know you could speak Tagalog?”

“I don't. I only know the basics to survive around here. Thank you. You're welcome. How much? Things like that.”

Hack put his wallet back in his pocket and started walking with Decker towards Magsaysay. “Whichever language you use, I hope you know how to buy beer without any money.”

Decker put his arm around his friend's shoulder. “That, my boy, is my specialty.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

1945, Wednesday, January 8

Mo looked up as Decker and Hack approached the table. He threw up his hands in mock disgust. “Great. You finally show up just when I thought I was arranging to have some fun on my own tonight.”

“We've got news,” said Decker. He face grew serious and he put his elbows on the table. He spent the next ten minutes telling Mo about his adventures earlier in the evening.

When Decker finished, Mo sat back in his chair. “This
is
big news. You know what this means?”

“No, what?” asked Hack.

Mo nodded toward the bar. “I should be on my way home with that lovely lady instead of sitting here with you two jerkoffs.”

Decker spied a girl across the bar sitting with another sailor. “I'm sure you'll have another opportunity with her. We need to do some serious brainstorming about who would want to shoot me.”

The beers arrived and Decker and Hack exchanged glances. “Mo, how ‘bout buying this round,” said Decker.

“Where the hell's your money?”

“I gave what I had on me to Rusty, and Hack gave his money to the owners of the
sari sari
store.”

“Great,” Mo grunted and handed the waitress sixty pesos. “Add one more to the list of people after you. And this is the second thing tonight that is cutting into my liberty money.”

“What was the first?” asked Hack.

“I was late leaving the ship and had to do an exchange with a street vendor. Gave me fifteen pesos to the dollar.”

“You got ripped off, my friend,” laughed Decker.

“Tell me about it,” Mo agreed. “I told him the official rate was twenty and a half to the dollar, but he pretended not to understand. Seeing that he was my only option at the time, I gave in.”

Decker tipped his bottle towards Mo. “You are a true friend and shipmate. Now, let's talk this through. I don't mean to seem selfish, but someone appears to be out to get me and I suddenly find that very troubling. First Kippen and….”

Hack took a swig of beer. “Chief Fray's the obvious choice, especially if he knows we were snooping around his safe.”

“You should've listened to Vega,” said Mo. “She told you something like this would happen.”

Decker ignored the comment. “What do we know about Chief?”

“He's your chief,” Mo said.

“I mean besides that. What does he do off the ship? Who are his friends?”

“He's married,” Hack said. “I saw his wife, or I assumed it was his wife, with him one day on the ship. She was there to pick him up for lunch.”

“I've met her, too,” Decker said. “Several times in fact. A Filipina.”

“Nice looking woman,” Mo added.

Hack smiled at Mo's comment. “She's okay, but not as nice as Mrs. Doerr. And maybe that's who chased you. Maybe the commander found out you were at his house.”

“Woah, back up,” Mo said, choking on his beer. “What's going on with you and the commander's wife?”

“
Nothing
is going on.” Decker shot Hack an angry glance. “Hack's just running his mouth. Now, let's get back to Chief Fray. We've established that he is, in fact, a chief and that he's more than likely married. We're going to have to do better than this.”

“I don't even know what ships he's been on,” Hack said. “Has he ever talked about that with you guys?”

Mo stared at his beer bottle. “I've heard him talk about the
Midway
before. I think that was his first ship.”

“And I know he was on the
Holt
,” Decker said. “That's the ship he made chief on. A fast frigate. I believe that was his duty station before the
Harvey
.”

“I think he's been on the
Stoddard
, too,” Mo said. “He always talks about this numbskull supply officer he used to work for. I'm pretty sure it was the Stoddard.”

Decker took out his notebook and pencil and wrote down the ship names. “I've heard those stories, too.” He examined the list. “Let's see. That gives us the
Midway, Stoddard
, and
Holt
. Any more duty stations?”

“I can't think of anywhere else,” said Mo. “But I don't work with him every day.”

Decker twirled his pencil in his right hand. “I think I've heard him mention being in San Diego. Or maybe Long Beach. He talks about Southern California sometimes. I can't remember the duty station, but it was on shore. Let's add it to our list. We're probably missing something, but this is a good start.”

“How does this help us?” asked Hack. “He was on those ships a long time ago and we'd never be able to get a crew list. Plus, we're stuck in Subic and have no way of tracking down those ships wherever they are home ported.”

Decker leaned back in his chair. “Okay then, let's think more locally. We know he's married. Do we know anything about his wife? What the home situation is like?”

“I think they have a kid,” Mo said. “A boy. Something like four or five years old. I've seen him with Chief a few times at parties.”

“I've seen the kid, too,” said Decker. “But let's focus on navy personnel. Who are his friends on the ship? Do we know of any friends he has at other places on base?”

“All I know is he hangs out with other chiefs,” Mo said. “I've seen him with Chief Barker and Senior Chief Genet on liberty.”

“And I saw him with Chief Blanchard in Hong Kong once,” Decker said.

Mo took a big swig of beer and belched. “He seems to keep to himself on board. ‘Course he hangs out in the Goat Locker a lot. But we can't go in there.”

“Where?” asked Hack.

“The Goat Locker. The chiefs' mess,” Decker said. “It's what everybody calls it. Including the chiefs.”

“That's a dumb name.”

“I agree,” Decker said. “But that's what they call it. Even more sad than the name is the fact that they like calling it the Goat Locker.”

The three sailors sat in silence as the Amo Band began playing. The loud music blared from the floor-to-ceiling speakers making any attempt at a conversation impossible. Five songs later, the band took a ten-minute break and Decker resumed. “The bottom line is we don't know much about Chief Fray. We know the basics. Where he was stationed in the past. He's married with a kid. He hangs out with a couple fellow chiefs while on liberty. That's about the extent of it.”

“Why don't you follow him for a couple days?” Mo said. “If you want to play detective, that's the way they do it in the movies.”

Decker's eyes brightened. “Mo, I think you may be on to something. That's a brilliant idea.”

“How are we going to do that?” Hack asked. “We don't have a car. He knows all three of us so he'd surely see us if we try to follow him.”

Decker looked at Hack. “Not if you're careful.”

“If
I'm
careful?” Hack asked.

“You're the perfect person to do it,” Decker said. “You're new on board. New enough he won't easily recognize you in civilian clothes. All you need is a hat of some kind. You'll blend right in.”

Hack pointed to Mo. “What about him?”

“Not a chance,” Decker said. “He'd stick out like a sore thumb. No offense, Mo.”

“None taken,” Mo shrugged. “I'm glad you feel that way.”

Hack turned to Decker. “Okay, what about you? You know the base and town better than I do. You'd be able to track him much more easily than me.”

Decker considered the wisdom of Hack's comment. “I hate it when you're right, but it makes sense. Okay, let's both do it. I don't want to do it alone, though.”

“You were ready to send me out there alone!” Hack said.

“That was before I realized how little you know the surroundings.”

“Then why don't
you
do it alone then?” Hack argued.

“I would, but I'd stick out, too. Chief knows me too well. Besides, I don't look like the kind of guy that would be trailing someone.”

Hack frowned. “That doesn't make any sense.”

Decker set down his beer and folded his arms. “It makes perfect sense. You have that innocent look about you. You can blend into the background. No one will suspect you're following someone. I'll be there as your wingman to guide you.”

“I've seen how well you handle that role,” Hack said, finishing the last of his San Miguel. “But if we do it, let's give ourselves a week. If Chief's involved with something, he'll make a move at some point during the week.”

Decker raised his beer bottle. “Okay, we're in for a week. Hack, you have duty tomorrow, right?

“I think so.”

“Then we'll start Operation Chief Watch on Friday.”

“What do you want me to do? I'd be more than happy to follow the commander's wife,” Mo said with a leer.

“At this point, nothing,” said Decker. “You'll be the muscle when we need it.

Mo polished off the remainder of his beer and set the bottle down with a grunt. “Great.”