The Raft (18 page)

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Authors: Christopher Blankley

Tags: #female detective, #libertarianism, #sailing, #northwest, #puget sound, #muder mystery, #seasteading, #kalakala

BOOK: The Raft
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“Oh,” Maggie nodded, leaning forward to
huddle with Horus. Despite their whispers, the mics were picking up
everything, transmitting it loud and clear back into the room
behind the one-way mirror.

“And I'm headin' back to where I threw anchor
off the woods, down south a ways. And I get back to the water
and... bam! Five-O is all up and tossin' my junk. Crawlin' all over
it like cockroaches, yo, lights a flashin'. So I bounce. Up and
back to up the road to my B-island bitches. I'm outta there. I'm
thinkin' someone snitched, ya know, I'm already plottin' Chemical
Ali's funeral. Of course I didn't know, I didn't know what they
were really lookin' for...”

“What, wait,” Maggie was only half listening,
the wheels in her head turning. “What time is this?”

“How should I know? Three, four...”

“It's still dark?” Maggie confirmed.

“Oh, hell yeah. I ain't movin' three hundred
pounds of bud in daytime, M-A-G.” Horus smirked.

Maggie leaned back in her chair and glanced
back at the one-way mirror.

“And Meerkat was aboard?”

“Nah, she were out, aboard the
Geoduck
with Tea Queen. Them police were waitin'.”

“Then how did you find out that Meerkat was
dead?”

“That's what I'm tryin' to say!” Horus
pleaded. “I book into the La Quinta, yo. Get some sleep. It ain't
until mornin', down in the lobby, with a big ol' plate of them
Belgian waffles, and I see it on the plasma. All flashin' up
Meerkat's picture and shit. I waren't there! I didn't touch her,
yo! Them cops, they were crawlin' all over my boat. Waitin'. And
who can get the police to come clean up their messes, huh, Maggie?
Who? Why don't you try and guess?”

“So you went all
Taxi Driver,
huh? Got
a gun?”

“Hell, I still got connections.”

“And you decided to settle the score with
Senator Hadian yourself?”

“Shit.” Horus leaned back in his chair. “For
what he done. He didn't deserve no better.”

Maggie glanced back at the one-way mirror and
squinted, as if she were attempting to detect in its reflection if
the confession would be satisfactory. Behind the mirror, Rachael
suddenly realized she hadn't been taking notes. She frantically dug
into her purse and came back with her notepad and began to
scribble. Galahad shot her a disapproving look and then returned
his attention to the mirror.

“Did you see any of this blackmail money?”
Maggie asked, changing tactics. “That Meerkat was extracting from
the Senator?”

“Sure,” Horus shrugged.

“Greenbacks?”

“What else?”

“How much?”

Horus shrugged again. “Hundred – two hundred,
maybe, it all added up.”

“Two hundred
thousand
?”

“Sure.”

“Sure?” Maggie snorted, distracted. “Where'd
Meekat get that kind of green?”

“From the Senator, yo. Ain't you payin'
attention?”

“Yes, of course,” Maggie remembered. “For the
surrogacy or blackmail?”

“Ya know, Maggie,” Horus began
contemplatively. “Thinkin' on it all, I'm startin' to think that
maybe that surrogacy deal weren't never on the up and up...”

“You think so, Horus?” Maggie asked without
an ounce of sarcasm in her voice. She pulled herself to her feet,
pausing momentarily at the edge of the small table. “Thank you,
Eugine, this has all been very informative.”

“Hey, ain't you gonna get me out of here,
Maggie? I ain't done nothin'.”

“No, I dare say you didn't.” Maggie turned
for the exit. “Problem is, a lot of what you didn't do is downright
illegal. You're going to have to do your stretch, Horus, and
there's nothing I can do about that.”

“Ya gotta help me, M-A-G...”

“I suggest you get a lawyer, Horus,” Maggie
said from the door. “The dryfoot kind. And a good one. You're going
to need it.” And Maggie turned the door's handle and stepped behind
the one-way mirror.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

The interview had satisfied Galahad, but he
was not happy. He had his confession on tape, but using it in court
without needlessly smearing the Senator would require some creative
editing.

Maggie didn't care, Rachael certainly didn't.
Neither waited around for a thank you. Maggie was antsy to leave
the County Jail. Yi offered her a ride back to West Point, but
Maggie declined. Instead, the Detective Sargent handed her his
business card. Maggie absentmindedly put it in her jeans
pocket.

“Rachael, buy me dinner,” Maggie demanded as
they were walking towards the elevators. It was almost seven
o'clock and they were both understandably starving. They'd eaten
nothing since their early lunch aboard the
Geoduck
. “Is
DiJulio's
still there at the corner of 1
st
?”

Rachael nodded. “At least I think so,” she
said. Rachael so seldom had reason to eat out downtown anymore.

“Great, let's walk, it's a nice evening,”
Maggie said with a smile. Rachael was too preoccupied to argue.
Horus's confession was turning over in her head.

Out in the summer evening air, Maggie and
Rachael descended the five blocks down James Street until it
intersected with Pioneer Square. At the point of the triangle
formed by James, Yesler, and 2
nd
was an old Skid Road
bar turned Italian Trattoria. It was early enough that most of the
window tables were empty. Rachael and Maggie stepped inside and
were quickly seated. The waiter was prompt with a carafe of
chianti.

“To your health,” Maggie toasted and took a
long gulp from her glass. Her mood seemed light. Rachael's mood,
however, was decidedly overcast.

“I'm going to go to press with this story,”
Rachael said, scanning the menu and ignoring Maggie's toast.

“What's that?” Maggie said casually, turning
her attention to the antipasto selection.

“Senator Hadian and Meerkat. After listening
to Horus back there, I'm convinced. Horus's accusations, the
presence of the police on his boat before Meerkat's body was found.
It all fits together. There's a story there, I can feel it.”

“You
want
there to be a story there,
you mean.” Maggie sipped at her wine. “You're itching for any dirt
on the Senator. You have been since Chemical mentioned his name
back on the deck of the
Soft Cell
.”

“Look, just because you can't go the distance
against Hadian,” Rachael began, snidely.

“What was that?” Maggie looked up from her
menu.

“Just because of what he said to you back
there about the Raft... it doesn't mean that I have to give him a
free pass.”

“What do you..?” Maggie began, then furrowed
her brow.

“After Horus's testimony, I think I have
enough for a story.”

“Rachael.” Maggie shifted in her seat. “What
did Horus
really
tell you?”

“The police aboard the
Straight Dope
,
the two hundred grand in cash. Is there any other possible
explanation?”

Maggie chuckled and picked up her wine glass.
“Oh yes, plenty.”

“Maggie!” Rachael growled in frustration.

“Rachael, calm down. You're letting your
personal hatred for Hadian interfere with your judgment. Just
because he's a horrible human being doesn't make him a murderer.
And just because Horus back there believes the Senator killed
Meerkat, practically proves his innocence.”

“Innocence?” Rachael fumed. She took a
breath, remembered her wine glass and took a drink. “I don't
follow,” Rachael asked more calmly.

“Horus
thinks
the Senator killed
Meerkat because he
thinks
that they were having an affair.
But that we know not to be true.”

“Do we?”

“Of course, Tea Queen said that Meerkat was
actually onshore for rehab.”

“If Meerkat wasn't lying to Tea Queen.”

“Well, sure, but which of those two
explanations is a few orders of magnitude more likely to be true?
And we'll know in absolute certainty when the coroner's report is
complete. If Meerkat was pregnant, then there's some potential
validity to Horus's story, but if she wasn't... No, the question we
should ask right now is not
if
Meerkat was lying about
Senator Hadian, but
why
she would tell such an outrageous
lie.”

“To smear Senator Hadian,” Rachael realized.
“To throw blood in the water for sharks like me.” She leaned back
in her chair and pinched her eyes with finger and thumb. She was
acting like a fool, she could see it now. Behaving
unprofessionally. The whole interview with the Senator had just set
her off. With Maggie acting so meek and the Senator's bullying. A
whole new level of hatred for the Senator had risen up inside
Rachael. It was clouding her judgment. On top of the political
opportunism, Rachael now wanted to hit the Senator hard for being
so vile to Maggie, so hateful about her chosen way of life.

But Maggie hadn't risen to the bait, she'd
kept her objectivity, even suffering through a painful dressing
down to do so.

Suddenly, Rachael felt horrible for
everything she'd thought about Maggie back in the SUV. Now she was
disgusted with herself for being disgusted with Maggie. Maggie
hadn't taken Hadian's abuse because stepping foot on dryland had
robbed her of her vigor. No, five minutes into the interview she'd
correctly weighed the Senator's irrelevance to the investigation,
and she'd done exactly what Rachael had asked of her: tried not to
offend the Senator.

Rachael could see it now, with the red-hot
rage lifted from her eyes. She felt horrible, she felt small, she
felt doubly worse because she couldn't just apologize to Maggie.
Maggie had kept Rachael and the
Times
out of a difficult
spot with an influential politician.

And in thanks, Rachael had hated her for
it.

Rachael finished off the last of her wine.
She was acting like a spoiled child. She was looking for the worst
in Maggie in each and every sign of weakness. Did she really still
hate Maggie that much? It'd been so long. But yes, she had to admit
that she still hurt deep inside from all the pain that Maggie had
caused her. And she hated Maggie for it. Rachael wanted to cry.

The wine had Rachael's head spinning.

“What about the money, though?” Rachael tried
to distract herself. “And the police aboard the S
traight
Dope
?”

“Now that is interesting,” Maggie replied.
The waiter returned. Somehow, the two had drained the carafe.
Maggie ordered more wine and antipasto. The waiter smiled and
receded. “The Senator was quick to provide a possible motive for
Meerkat, or any other Rafter looking to implicate him in a torrid
sex scandal. But that Meerkat was returning from her excursions to
dryland with cash in hand...”

“Last I recall, no one got paid to go to
rehab,” Rachael tittered. She laughed far too loudly at her joke.
She felt tipsy.

“Exactly, and the police investigating
Horus's boat
before
they could have possibly known about
Meerkat's murder...”

“But what does it mean?” Rachael said as the
second carafe arrived.

“I really don't know,” Maggie said as she
poured two more glasses. “But it is so easy to jump to conclusions
– see vast conspiracies. No, we've got to get that coroner's
report. And then get back to the Raft. Whatever happened to
Meerkat, whatever answers there are to this puzzle, they're out
there in the water, not here on dryland drinking wine with us in
DiJulio's.

“Maggie, I'm sorry,” Rachael began, the words
coming out a little too fast.

“Sorry for what?”

“For everything today. I barged my way into
your life, pushed you around, upset everything. And you've humored
me. I know it can't be easy, after all this time.”

“Don't apologize,” Maggie corrected. “Any
good luck I've had today has been because you've been along. I'd
have never gotten in to see the Senator, got the story directly
from Horus's mouth without you.”

“But - But I've been horrible.”

The antipasto arrived. The new carafe was
already half gone.

“You don't like the Raft, that's nothing to
apologize for,” Maggie said, spooning some cured meats onto her
plate. “I understand it's an inside-out place. It's crazy. I know
that better than anyone.”

“But... but I don't agree with the Senator.
After being out there, even for just a day, I know he's wrong. It's
no prison.”

“Mmm,” Maggie said around her food, only half
agreeing. “There's more than a little truth in what the Senator
said.”

“No.”

“No, and I accept it, but... you know, it's
like Zhuangzi and his butterfly.
..”


It
is?” Rachael smiled, emptying her glass.


Yeah. 'Once I dreamed that I was a butterfly, happy and free,
until I awoke. Ever since I've been unable to decide if I am a man
who dreamed that he was a butterfly, or a butterfly still dreaming
that he is a man.'”


Yeah,” Rachael nodded, the room spinning.

Maggie went on. “Am I a prisoner set free
aboard the Raft, or a freeman imprisoned on it? Both states can be
equal and true and mutually complementary, depending on your
initial supposition.”


And
you were a prisoner, weren't you, Maggie?” Rachael asked, her heart
sinking. “Before you fell asleep.”


Rachael...”


No.
It's okay.”


It
wasn't like that, I...” Maggie choked. She found her glass and
tipped back the last of it.


I
know, it's all so long ago. We don't have to revisit ancient
history.”

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