Lepski pulled up a chair and sat astride it.
‘Chief, there’s another thing,’ he said. ‘I have a hunch I know who the guy is who tortured Baldy.’
‘For Pete’s sake!’ Hess exploded. ‘Why didn’t you say so before?’
‘All right, Fred,’ Terrell said. ‘Let Tom tell it his own way. So you have a hunch?’
‘That’s right.’ Lepski scowled at Hess who glared back at him, then went on, ‘Solo Dominico has hired a lifeguard for a couple of months. I ran into Solo and this new guy when I was at the market checking on those dips you were worried about. So okay, I met this guy: an ex-sergeant, paratrooper, a guy called Harry Mitchell. He’s just back from Vietnam and on a vacation before taking a job in New York. A couple of days ago I was at the airport, trying to get a line on Baldy when I ran into Mitchell, carrying a white plastic suitcase with a red band around it.’
A patrolman came in with four cartons of coffee which he placed on the desk then left.
‘So what’s all the excitement about the suitcase?’ Hess demanded impatiently as he reached for a carton.
Lepski wasn’t to be hurried. He was sure if he handled this right, he must get his promotion.
‘When I talked to Mai Langley,’ he went on, ignoring Hess, ‘just before this gunman bust in, she told me Baldy had taken his suitcase to the airport.’ He paused, then went on, speaking slowly and deliberately. ‘This suitcase was white plastic with a red band around it!’
He sat back, reached for his carton of coffee and sipped, his eyes going first to Terrell, then to Beigler and finally to Hess.
‘You’ve made a point, Tom,’ Terrell said. ‘So... go on.’
Disappointed there had been no greater reaction, Lepski said, ‘I asked Mitchell if it was his suitcase. He said it was: that he had left it at the airport, but now he was working steadily for Dominico, he needed it. So I checked his discharge papers and when I saw he was a Vietnam veteran, a sergeant paratrooper, I let him go with the suitcase.’
‘You mean you didn’t look in the suitcase?’ Hess demanded.
‘Now, Fred, you know Tom had no right to look in the suitcase,’ Terrell said before Lepski could explode. ‘The point is: is a white plastic suitcase with a red band around it unique? What do you think, Joe?’
‘It could well be. I think Tom has something. Solo has been hooked up with Baldy in the past. Baldy owned a white plastic case with a red band and left it at the airport. Mitchell, who is working for Solo, collects a white plastic suitcase with a red sash. Yeah... of course Tom’s onto something.’
Lepski beamed, shifting forward, nearly overturning his chair.
‘I know it! Look, Chief, suppose I go out to Solo’s joint and twist Mitchell’s arm? He could spill the whole setup.’
Terrell re-lit his pipe which had gone out. He thought for some moments, then shook his head.
‘No... I want something to go on first.’ He turned to Hess. ‘Let’s get some dope about Mitchell. Telex Washington.’
Hess poked a fat finger in Lepski’s direction.
‘You read his discharge papers... give me the dope.’
Lepski flexed his brain muscles. He had only taken a brief look at Harry Mitchell’s papers, but he had a good memory. After a moment’s pause, he said, ‘Harry Mitchell. Top Sergeant. Third Paratroop Regiment. First Company.’
Hess regarded him with grudging approval.
‘One of these days... maybe ten years from now, Lepski... you could make a good detective.’
Seeing Lepski’s face turn purple, Terrell said curtly, ‘Cut it out, Fred. Send that Telex!’
When Hess had left the office, Terrell went on, ‘You are doing all right, Tom. Just don’t lean on it too hard. Suppose you see what you can find out about these two queers: Hans Larsen and Jacey Smith. If it goes out of our territory, tell me before you do anything.’
‘Yes, Chief.’ Lepski started towards the door, then paused. ‘You really mean you think I’m doing all right?’
‘You heard what the Chief said,’ Beigler barked. ‘Get moving!’
Lepski left the office, skidded around Max Jacoby as he was about to enter the office and then made for his desk.
Terrell looked at Jacoby as he hovered in the doorway.
‘What is it, Max?’
‘Retnick’s just called in. Chief. He’s been checking Highway 1. He says he has a description of two men driving a Mustang that matches Baldy’s Mustang. He says the car was towing a caravan.’
Terrell and Beigler exchanged glances.
‘A caravan?’
‘That’s what he says.’
‘Tell him to come in pronto.’
‘He’s on his way, Chief.’
When Jacoby had returned to his desk, Terrell said to Beigler, ‘What do you think of it now, Joe?’
‘It’s taking shape. We’ve found Baldy. We’ve found the Mustang. Now a caravan turns up. We were wondering how Baldy’s body got to Hetterling Cove. Could be the body went in the caravan... so I guess we start looking for the caravan.’
‘I go along with that.’ Terrell looked down at the notes Beigler had taken of Lepski’s verbal report. ‘But all this...’ He knocked out his pipe and began to refill it. ‘This still could be a C.I.A. thing, Joe. Maybe I should report it.’
‘Still working on the Castro angle?’
Terrell lit his pipe.
‘Yes. Look at the information we now have. To me, the clue to all this is that Baldy was a Communist with an admiration for Castro. On March 24th, he arrives at Vero Beach and hires a launch, plus two men, from Jack Thomas. His destination is Havana if we can believe what Goldie White told Lepski. It looks as if Baldy was on a smuggling deal and this had to do with Castro. According to his girlfriend his boat was intercepted and sunk. Then two months later, Baldy appears again and tries to hire a boat from Dominico, failing this, he goes to O’Brien to raise money, failing this, he gets his girlfriend to drive him to Vero Beach. When he has settled her with Do-Do Hammerstein, he returns here, puts his suitcase in a left luggage locker at the airport, then returns to Vero Beach where he hires a Hertz Mustang under the name of Joel Blach. Then, suddenly he vanishes and the rumour goes around that he has been knocked off. Two days later we find the Mustang which leads us to Baldy’s grave. A man answering to the description of a lifeguard hired by Dominico is seen by Lepski at the airport with a suitcase resembling Baldy’s case.’ Terrell puffed at his pipe, frowning. ‘We are making progress, but we still don’t know what Baldy was smuggling nor do we know who killed him. We have a lot of digging to do yet, but it becomes more and more obvious to me that Baldy was in some smuggling racket to do with Cuba and this makes me wonder if I shouldn’t turn the whole thing over to the C.I.A. They might do a faster and better job than we are doing.’
‘You said a couple of days, Chief,’ Beigler said. We still have a day and a quarter.’
Terrell hesitated.
‘Yes... well, okay, Joe. Get back to your desk, I’ll do some more thinking.’
Half an hour later, Detective 3rd Grade Red Retnick, a tall, beefy young man with flaming red hair came into the Detectives’ room.
Seeing him, Beigler waved him to Terrell’s office, got up and went to the head of the stairs and bawled down to Charley Tanner to send up coffee, then he joined Retnick in the office. Retnick made a concise report which Beigler took down in fast shorthand.
‘On Thursday night, two men in a Mustang, towing a caravan, stopped at Jackson’s All-Night Café for coffee,’ Retnick said. ‘A trucker who had been in the café and who was there again on his return journey while I was making inquiries, gave me a description of these two men.’
‘Hold it a moment, Red,’ Terrell said. To Beigler, he went on, ‘Get Lepski.’