“You’re here early,” Mitch said. He must have had eyes in the back of his head.
“Have you heard about the two murders?”
He turned in his book-cramped office and stared at me. “In Key West?” Classical music played lightly from his computer speakers.
“Yeah, in Key West.”
“Tell me.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose and waited.
I told him and he listened quietly.
“Any suspects? I mean, besides you.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I don’t know what they’ve done in the last few hours, maybe they do, maybe they don’t.”
“Are you hiding out?” He twisted in his chair.
“When they call me to come in for questioning I’ll go in.”
“Really? Take an attorney.”
“I don’t need one.”
“Famous last words. Look, if they’ve got no one else, then it has to be you. I beg your pardon, but that’s how it works.”
“I don’t think so, Mitch. I have witnesses, there’s no physical evidence…”
“Coincidence, Mick.” He pushed his glasses back in place and stood up. “Take my advice and don’t go to the police station without legal representation, coincidence has put others in jail.”
Outside, I lit another cigar and decided to walk along Duval Street toward the Hog’s Breath. I could see the rain clouds hovering at Lower Duval. Cars and scooters rushed in both directions and the sidewalks were busy with tourists. Outside Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville Restaurant, people were lined up for lunch seating. At Fat Tuesday’s early revelers enjoyed the toxic frozen drinks they served and across Caroline Street Fogerty’s had its first lunch group seated. The island was busy for mid-week. Rain was a block away.
The two-hundred block of Duval was the party area, be it spring break or Fantasy Fest or any day of the week with a D in it. The Tree Bar, Angelina’s Pizza, and Rick’s were open and busy. Across the street, the Lazy Gecko, Sloppy Joe’s Bar, and Irish Kevin’s were just as busy. This block of Key West sold a good time by the glass and there was no shortage of takers. Rain drizzled across Greene Street like a beaded curtain.
The bank’s parking lot was full and the afternoon entertainment had begun at the Hog’s Breath. Joel Nelson sat on the rain-protected stage and played for a half-full bar. We nodded at each other as I walked in. The bloodstains on the broken cement floor had been washed away and all the barstools were upright. Kevin tended the raw bar and Irish Bob was alone behind the big bar.
“Interesting morning,” Irish Bob said as I passed.
“How long have you been open?”
“About an hour.” He smiled. “You gonna tell me about it?”
“Later, I need to go to the office,” I said, and kept walking.
Tracy was alone.
“You owe me.” She smiled, and put down what she was working on. “Hold on.”
I closed the door as she walked into the back room. She came back holding a manila envelope, which she handed to me. “What’s in it?”
I opened the envelope and six audiotapes and a note from Tony slid out. I put them back.
“Thanks, Tracy. I’ll let you know as soon as I listen to them. You okay?”
“Are you okay?” She sat down. “Morales had a lot of questions about you. I told him what I did, called you, and that was it. The son of a bitch doesn’t believe me.”
“His job is to be suspicious. Don’t let him get to you.”
“I had to sign my statement.”
“Consider yourself lucky. I have to go to the station to give mine.”
I stuffed the envelope against my back and walked out into the rain.
Tony’s note echoed what Shawn had said about the book having better prospects of being a mystery novel than a memoir. The afternoon rain pounded the deck on my sailboat, the Fenian Bastard, as I pulled my small tape recorder from storage and played the tapes. I poured some Jameson over ice and sipped the drink as I listened.
The three treasure hunters had sat with Tony and told their stories, each cutting in on the other to make corrections, because they never seemed to agree. The most interesting parts were about smuggling marijuana and who had financed their frequent trips. They even named some of the Mexican boaters on the mother ship, as well as local backers, but again, they argued about that. Much of the information had been rumored for years around the island, so there was little new in the tapes.
It was almost humorous when they talked about discovering the treasure. They were diving, illegally, for local lobsters when they discovered the first few artifacts. It took them weeks of scraping the bottom by hand to find more, and then they took it to Shawn. They all respected Shawn for his years of support and always considered him their business partner.
I put a blank tape in my recorder, put my Glock, with a round in the chamber, in the pocket of my foul-weather jacket with the recorder, and called Chief Dowley. I told him where to meet me and left as the rain turned to drizzle. I had a good idea of who the killer was, but it didn’t make any sense. Then again, murder rarely does.
Lightning flashed and thunder boomed as I walked into the plush empty outer office. The inside door was open and classical music played from hidden speakers. I unzipped my jacket and turned the tape recorder on as I walked through the open office door and closed it. Shawn sat at his clear glass-topped desk; a coke spoon in his hand came down empty from his nose. A small bag of white powder and a revolver sat on the desk.
“Do you want some?” His eyes stared hard at me, but he smiled.
“No, Shawn, I have a hard enough time being a drunk.”
“This is better than booze.” He filled the small coke spoon and inhaled it through one nostril. “You have the tapes?”
“Yeah, I have them.”
“The crazy bastards,” he growled. “I didn’t think they’d turn on me.”
“They didn’t.”
He looked puzzled for a moment and then smiled again. “What do you mean?”
“You were right, Shawn.” I moved away from the desk. “Mostly they argued on the tapes. Talked about their smuggling and joked about finding the treasure.”
“They lied about me and my family, I know they did.” He was becoming agitated.
“No, they didn’t, Shawn,” I tried to say calmly. “There are more rumors out on the street about how Key West families got their money from square groupers than are on the tapes.”
“That’s what Tony said. I didn’t believe him, either.”
“He told you that before you killed him?”
“Yeah,” he growled again. “Now you’re saying he told me the truth?”
“He wasn’t going to write the memoir, he wanted to use the information for a mystery novel.” I moved another step back.
“That’s good news, but it’s a little late.” His laugh sounded like an animal’s howl. “Of course, it’s not good news for you, is it? You know the truth.” He inhaled another spoonful of cocaine. “I have to kill you, and then this will go away.”
“Are you going to run me through with a pirate sword, too?” I stood still and put my hand on the Glock.
“No, the swords are gone.” He smiled. “Wizard had two of them and Tony made me so angry I just picked one up and drove it through him as he went to sit down.”
“You took the other one with you to kill Lucky?” I wanted it all on tape.
“Tony told me Lucky was taking the tapes to you, so I went after him,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize I had the other sword with me until I got to my car. I drove around and saw Lucky walk into the Hog and I parked around on Front Street.” His hand was shaking so much he couldn’t hold the coke spoon. “I waited for him by the parking lot and when he came downstairs, I confronted him, and I still had the sword. He wouldn’t go back for the tapes. Damn fool, he didn’t think I’d do it, even after I stabbed him a few times.”