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

Clint Faraday Mysteries Collection B :This Job is Murder Collector's Edition (35 page)

BOOK: Clint Faraday Mysteries Collection B :This Job is Murder Collector's Edition
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On the bus. In Chiriqui Grande. He must have
been the stranger at Rio Uyama. Maybe there would be a few puzzles
mixed in with a few more in this mess!

Clint wanted to find out something about that
one. He didn’t have any way except to follow him to where he could
get the information. He wished Judi was there. She was a genius for
getting information!

Clint went to the police station to find that
Rincón’s car was about half a kilometer back along the road from
where he was found inside a fence that enclosed land he owned. It
had a flat tire and he carried no spare. He had, apparently, been
inspecting the property and had returned to his car to discover the
flat. He decided to walk the distance to town to have someone go to
repair the tire and had been struck by some vehicle that didn’t
bother to stop, fearing trouble with the law. Possibly drinking or
something. There was a fifty-fifty chance they would find the
vehicle that killed him.

Clint nodded, but he doubted very much that
anything would ever be found. He asked if Julio could find out
anything about the mysterious stranger with the very blue eyes.
Julio said he could, very easily.

Clint decided to find Emanuel if he could. He
strolled around the town and mentioned him to various people. A
woman who worked at the bus terminal said he was probably the one
who left very early. She remembered him because he was staying so
carefully out of sight of the others at the station. He took a bus
to Darien.

Would that mean Clint went to Darien now? Why
not? He wanted to see as much of the country as he could.

He went back to the police station. Julio
said the man he asked about had bought a bus ticket to Darien. His
name, on his passport, was Arnaldo Valenz from Colombia. He was a
tourist visiting friends.


Which bus?” Clint asked.


The one that leaves in about an
hour.”

So. Emanuel takes a bus in the morning and
Arnaldo takes one in the early afternoon for the same place. What
was the connection? Nothing made any sense. It didn’t even seem
possible.

Of course, he could have found that Emanuel
took the early bus the same way Clint did.

Clint called Manolo again and asked if the
name `Castile’ meant anything. He said, if it was the one between
Bocas and Chiriqui Grande, there was a question about a painting.
He got it legit, but they wanted to know the seller.


Rincón,” Clint answered. Manolo said
that was a suspicion. So. Now he would definitely go to
Darien.

Clint saved the price of a bus ticket. He
called Roberto and said their quarry was on his way to Darien. If
they were going he would appreciate a ride with them. He was doing
all this at his own expense.

Half an hour later they left for Darien.

 

Darien

They came into the lush Darien area late
enough that they wouldn’t be able to find anything that night.
Clint stayed in a different hotel than Willie and Roberto. It might
be a good idea that people didn’t connect them. They agreed. Clint
meshed with people anywhere, they never did.


I dress and act like them. You don’t.
Think about it.”

During the drive Clint found they weren’t so
bad. They just lived in some silly fantasy world they’d learned, as
Emanuel said, from movies, TV and bad rap garbage. Willie gave a
sickly grin. Roberto laughed and said he’d change when this act
didn’t work anymore. Clint resisted saying it wasn’t working now.
Like Dave said to that idiot with the loud speakers in his car,
“News flash! It’s not WORK-K-K-KING!”

Clint asked the girl in the bus station
restaurant about Emanuel. The bus wouldn’t be there for another
hour and a half or so. It stopped for half an hour twice along the
way and he’d have to transfer in the last one.

The area was beautiful, but most of Panamá
is. Clint could picture Dave there with his camera and troop of
local Indios. He would be there half an hour and have pictures of
twenty species that weren’t supposed to be found in Panamá.

He’d said the area was explored. Probably no
more than five new species. Clint grinned to himself and found a
good restaurant Willie and Roberto would, no doubt, be waiting
there when Emanuel got off the bus. So would Clint, but he wouldn’t
follow Emanuel. Those two clowns wouldn’t actually bother Emanuel.
They wanted to be where he was so they could collect the bounty on
the missing art. Clint was surprised that so much of it was in
Panamá, but knew it was from his work with Manolo.

The bus came. Emanuel didn’t come with it.
Neither did Arnaldo. Willie and Roberto were running around loudly
demanding to know where Emanuel got off. No one knew anything.

Clint leaned against the side of the bus
where the door boy was getting the luggage out of the compartment.
Willie and Roberto were running around asking anyone who got off if
they’d seen the weird preacher.


I don’t know if they’re funny or just
pathetic,” Clint said conversationally to the boy, who gave him a
big grin. They’d tried to stop him for answers when he came to get
the bags.


Locos. Officiales. Fuck
them!”


They just say they’re officials.
They’re mostly wannabe badasses, I think.”


All they have to do is say, `I’m
looking for a man who was supposed to be on your bus, but may have
missed it or something,’ and I’d tell them he and three other
people got off at Vilas Pendros. Now, fuck them!”


Some people never learn.”


They watch too much television. Fuck
them!”

Clint saluted and went into the little
restaurant. Willie and Roberto came in twenty minutes later.


They all refuse to say anything at
all!” Willie complained. “We’ll have to go back along the road the
bus came and check every damned stop along the way!”


I think I’ll go to the Vilas,” Clint
sad. “He got off there.”

Roberto dropped his coffee all over his lap.
Willie knocked the silverware off the table when he spun to goggle
at Clint.


When ... how did you find out!?”
Roberto cried.


When the bus stopped. I asked a woman
if my nephew, the thin tired and sour-looking gringo, got off
before he got here – like he was prone to do. She said he was
probably one of the people who got off at the vilas.”


But they wouldn’t tell us anything!”
Willie complained.


They wouldn’t tell some stupid TV
asshole cops anything. Try just asking in a polite way what you
want to know. Demand answers from these people and one thing is
damned certain – you won’t be getting any. If you do, they won’t be
right.”


Jesus!” Roberto said. “All this time
we could be ... where are these vilas?”


Maybe fifteen kilometers
back.”


Want a ride?”


No. He won’t be there.”


He won’t?”


I seriously doubt he would be there.
He could figure you’d find where he was headed and would manage to
have you here waiting for him for enough time to do whatever he
wanted to do.”


We have to check anyhow.”


Yeah. See you around.” They left.
Clint grinned and ordered another empanada and another cup of
coffee.

The local bus came in just three minutes
after Willie and Roberto ran to their car and almost had a head-on
leaving the parking lot. Clint waited until the passengers were
mostly out to walk up to Emanuel and say, “Hello!”

Emanuel grinned at him. “You figured I’d fool
them into going somewhere else. I don’t know what they want, but I
know they are probably dangerous. I do not think they are, shall we
say, the brightest flowers in the vase.


It is good to see you, Clint. You are
following me too? Why?”


Not you,” Clint replied. “One of the
people who’re following you.”


Dear lord! How many are following me
and
why
are they following
me?”


As to how many, I can’t say. As to
why, you lead them to other things they’re after.”

He looked serious. “I know of only
those two. I have made it a game to outsmart them. I do not know
why
they
are following
me.”

Clint nodded. “What do you base your stops
on?”


Only on people and places I hear about
through my correspondence. Computer, you see.”


You don’t carry one.”


There are cafés everywhere. Internet
services, even in the jungles. The modern world.”

Clint agreed. “So. Someone is sending you to
specific places for specific reasons. You’re then leading someone
else, probably someone in on it, to very specific people. This
sounds like a silly TV intrigue show.


Emanuel, who’s doing this to
you?”


Doing WHAT?! I am
confused.”


Let’s go somewhere and try to figure
this thing out. Make it look like you’re going to the restroom or
something. Meet me later somewhere. DO NOT go to wherever you’re
supposed to go here!”

He nodded and said he was going to look for a
hotel or pension. He was supposed to contact someone named Marta
Rosadas Javier.

Clint said to move around a bit, then jump on
the bus to the vilas down the street. Flag it down near the turnoff
road..

Emanuel grinned and said he liked this part
where he got to outsmart someone he never even knew was there.

Clint got up, saluted, paid his tab and
walked out. There was a bus to the vilas every hour. He made it a
point to be on the next one. Emanuel was walking along the road
just past the turnoff and flagged the bus. He came to sit next to
Clint.

Clint watched the road behind. About half a
mile from the town he called “Sparate!” and they got off. They were
around a bend and Clint pulled Emanuel into the trees by the road.
A taxi came by less than half a minute later going toward the
vilas.

Clint grinned at Emanuel, who looked
excited.


We’re on the next one to Panamá City..
It’ll be about ... it’s four fifteen. It won’t be until a bit after
eight. We can try to figure this out in the meantime,” Clint said.
“Did you know there’s a murder or two everywhere you
go?”


MURDER
?!?!”


The people you contact are, so far as
I can determine, art thieves and fences. You’re being used to ...
what’s the matter?”


I knew there were an inordinate amount
of accidents and so forth. I didn’t know there were any
murders
! I was beginning to become
somewhat suspicious, but nothing happened after I met you. I feel
you are a good luck charm, though I do not believe in such things.
That smacks to me of witchcraft.”


Who directs you to these
people?”


It is a woman in the missionary
council. Veronica Leona Messer. She is in charge of international
affairs.”


Oh? Your church is large enough to
have an international council?!”


No, no! It is an international
institution who make no judgements about the church. They merely
aid in placing missionaries into contact with people and places
that are in great need of enlighten ... they are a purely
non-denominational aid service. It is the Name Supreme
International Aid Society.”


They contacted you when you began this
trip?”


Well, yes. I had spoken with a man who
aided me greatly in my quest. He recommended that I cooperate as
much as possible with the service because they were known to do
great work without making judgements. They are interested in aiding
people in any way they can arrange.”


Well, a minimum of three people have
had accidents that weren’t accidents since I met you. In Bocas and
in Las Tablas.”


I did not know about this! I swear by
all that is holy! I would never be any small part of harming
anyone!” If he wasn’t one hell of an actor he was totally
devastated by this news.


Well, we can make ourselves
comfortable. I want to know a bit more about this council thing.
Someone’s using it for reasons diametrically opposed to its
purpose.


How do they work it? They obviously
know where you’re going and who you contact.”


No, no. They give me the name and what
information they can. I have a knack for finding people. I have
failed to find only four or five since my quest ... since my trip
began. I speak with people in a given small area. I have some
information that will make people remember something, if you
understand.”

They talked awhile. Clint called Manolo to
get any information he could find about the council. Judging from
the way those two clowns acted it was no surprise they couldn’t
locate people. Even if they were standing dead in front of the
person they wouldn’t get information.

Clint and Emanuel walked back toward the town
and waited in a restaurant not far from the bus stop until it was
loading the few people who were boarding this early in the trip.
There were only four. Clint and Emanuel ran to the bus as it was in
motion to leave and climbed aboard. Clint greeted the people
already aboard and chatted a moment with all of them. It was two
men and their wives.

BOOK: Clint Faraday Mysteries Collection B :This Job is Murder Collector's Edition
9.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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