The Way We Die Now (22 page)

"Not at ten, in broad daylight. There's probably some simple explanation."

"They took their clothes along. They're on a trip of some kind, Willie."

"In that case you haven't got anything to worry about. School's out, so maybe he took 'em down to the Keys. Why not call Ellita's mother? She'd know."

"I did. She hasn't heard from Ellita since the party for her uncle."

"Maybe she'll send you a postcard. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

"Thanks, Willie. But if you were me, you'd worry about it."

Brownley shook his head and smiled. "If it was someone else other than Ellita, I might worry. But she's a match for any man, in my opinion."

"I guess you're right. She still carries her pistol, and there's probably a simple explanation."

"See what I mean? Hutton's got lots of money. Maybe he took them for a drive--up to Palm Beach or maybe on a boat ride."

"Sure. Can you let me have Mel Peoples's phone number?"

"No. He doesn't want to talk to you again, Hoke. He wants all this shit to blow over."

"Okay. Can you call him for me?"

"I guess so."

"There's a woman in Immokalee, living in the Lucky Star Trailer Park. Her name's Elena Osborne, and she's got a retarded son about three years old. Tell Mel to get that kid away from her and put it in a state institution somewhere."

"He's on the State Agricultural Commission, Hoke. He doesn't have any authority for something like that."

"I didn't have any authority in Immokalee either. He owes me a favor for my investigation, and he knows the people over there who can do something."

"What's your interest in this woman, Hoke?"

"Elena Osborne. Mrs. Elena Osborne. None at all. The kid is ruining the woman's life, that's all. So tell Mel to get the welfare people to commit that kid. If he doesn't, I'm going to phone Boggis and tell him the whole story."

"You'd be in trouble, not Mel."

"I don't give a shit. If Mel's up for a promotion, he'll do it. If Bock and his foreman are dead, Mel can't afford to get his name in the papers, even though he meant well."

"All right. I'll call him tonight. What's the woman's name again?"

"Osborne. Mrs. Elena Osborne. The Lucky Star Trailer Park. And when you call him, tell him I'm going to check on this matter later, after things have cooled down over there in Immokalee."

"I believe I can persuade him, Hoke."

"Thanks, WTillie, this is important to me. I'd like to see something positive come out of this fiasco."

"I wouldn't call it that."

"You wouldn't? What are my chances of getting a look at the autopsy report?" Hoke got to his feet and felt for a cigarette. He lit a Kool and put his lighter away. "The dead Haitian. The one you said was buried behind the billboard."

"Not a chance." Brownley shook his head.

"That's what I figured. There isn't any dead Haitian, and there never was, right?"

"The dead Haitian was Mel's idea, Hoke, not mine. There are Haitians missing, that's true enough, but we haven't found any of them yet. But Mel thought that if we told you we had a dead one, it would be easier to get you to check out Bock's farm. How'd you find out?"

Hoke shrugged. "The innkeeper in Immokalee drove me to Four Corners in Bonita Springs. Along the way we passed the billboard advertising the dog track. The billboard's in Lee County, not Collier County, so if you found a dead man buried behind it, the Lee County sheriff would've been called, not Sheriff Boggis. What the hell is going on, Major?"

"I can't tell you, Hoke. I'd like to, but I can't."

"Okay. I'll accept that. But you owe me a big debt, Willie."

"And you will be paid, Sergeant. That's a promise."

Hoke drove home and went to bed. He was too exhausted to think about the matter. Just before he fell asleep, he decided that he would call the limousine services first thing in the morning and go on from there. That is, if Ellita didn't call him or return home by morning.

CHAPTER 14

The next morning Hoke parked the unmarked Plymouth in the police lot. As he got out of the car, he flipped his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. Three cars away, Captain Slater was just getting into his Lincoln Continental. He held up a hand and walked toward Hoke. His shoulders were straight, and his back was stiff, as if someone held a gun to his spine.

"Were you smoking in the car, Sergeant Moseley?"

Hoke nodded.

"That's a twenty-five-dollar fine."

"Jesus, Captain Slater, I was alone in the car. My smoke didn't bother anyone."

"It bothers the new chief. The rule's been posted, D-Tone-oh-seven, and that means unmarked cars as well as patrol vehicles. I'll have to put you down for a fine. Commander Henderson will have it deducted from your next paycheck. You're a sergeant, and you're supposed to set an example for the younger officers."

"I forgot about the damned rule."

"That's tough shit. Next time the fine'll make you remember it."

Slater walked toward his car without looking back. Hoke checked the Plymouth in with the dispatcher, signing his name and time on the clipboard. From now on, he thought, when he smoked in an unmarked car, he would have to remember to sneak it.

Teodoro Gonzalez, wearing a white linen jacket with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, was already in the office.

"I called you at home," he said, "soon's I got your note, but no one answered so I figured you'd already left."

Hoke nodded and pulled the two telephone books over to his side of the desk. He was going to look up limousines. The books were bulky, and this year the phone company had divided them so that half of the Yellow Pages were in A--K and the other half were in L--Z. This made it equally inconvenient to look up private numbers and commercial Yellow Page numbers.

Gonzalez clasped his hands together and smiled expectantly across the desk. As Hoke looked at Gonzalez's young, vacant face, freshly shaved and stinking of Brut, he wondered what would have happened to the young detective if Brownley had sent him to Immokalee. He would be one dead Cuban-American. For the first time since they had been working together, Hoke felt sorry for Gonzalez.

"Report," Hoke said, without opening the L--Z book.

"Report?"

"Report."

"Oh, sure, now I know what you mean. I swallowed that peanut butter ball, just like Major Brownley told me to do, but I really didn't need to. I wasn't X-rayed, so it didn't make any difference. I made the appointment with Dr. Schwartz, and I spent the first hour in his reception room filling in a medical history form before he saw me. By the way, what's enuresis? I didn't know what it was, so I put down I never had it."

"I'm willing to bet good money you did. It means wetting the bed."

"Oh, sure, I had that, until I was eleven or twelve. How'd you know?"

"Basic deduction, Teddy. What happened with Dr. Schwartz?"

"He took my blood pressure, listened to my chest and back with his stethoscope, and asked me if I ever coughed up any blood. I said no, and then he asked me if I had a stressful job. I started to say yes, but I'd already put down on my form that I was a tennis instructor, so I had to say no again."

"Tennis instructor? When did you start playing tennis?"

"I don't, but I had to put down an occupation that would let me get away for two hours in the morning to see a doctor. There aren't many jobs where they'll let you off to sit in a doctor's office."

"Okay. Was he wearing the ring?"

Gonzalez nodded, and plucked at his lower lip. "He was wearing an onyx ring with a diamond in it. But I can't say for sure it was the same ring Dr. Russell was wearing. Those rings are seen a lot around town, especially at the dog tracks. He was wearing a gold Rolex, too. But that may not have been Dr. Russell's watch either."

"What makes you say that?"

"On my way out of the office I saw Dr. Schwartz's partner, Dr. Farris. He was talking to the nurse, and he was wearing a gold Rolex. Once you start looking, you see 'em everywhere. Even Captain Slater's got one."

"Captain Slater's a prick, Teddy, but he isn't a suspect. And neither are the one hundred and one drug dealers and lawyers who wear gold Rolexes. I'm glad you spotted the watch on Dr. Farris, but now we have two suspects instead of one."

Gonzalez shook his head. "Max Farris operated for Dr. Russell that morning. After Sergeant Quevedo called the clinic, the nurse called Dr. Schwartz first and then Dr. Farris to perform the operation. Isn't that right?"

"Farris had enough time, and so did Schwartz. Russell was dead for about fifteen minutes when the deliveryman found him. That's the estimate, but it could've been longer. He had to go to a neighbor's to call nine-one-one. Then it took the police car about five or six minutes to get there after that. That's at least twenty-five. So Dr. Farris had plenty of time to shoot Dr. Russell and get back home before anybody called."

"These are all approximate times."

"But underestimated, not overestimated. Besides, it seems unlikely to me that either one of these doctors would do the actual shooting himself. I mean improbable, not unlikely. They both profited by Russell's death. The only reason Dr. Schwartz is the prime suspect is that he profited most. He got Russell's house and wife, in addition to half the clinic. We're going to have to flush these fuckers out. One or the other or both."

"What about my money?"

"What money?"

"I couldn't use my insurance because I had to use an assumed name when I saw the doctor. José Smith. The nurse gave me a little lecture, too, about not having any medical insurance. Then I had to pay one hundred bucks in cash. I had the money, knowing I'd have to pay something, but I didn't think I'd have to pay a hundred bucks just to be told to take Maalox. I talked to Commander Henderson afterward about getting my refund, and he said I couldn't get any refund without a legitimate bill from the doctor. My receipt, you see, was made out to José Smith."

"How about department funds?"

"The undercover wasn't authorized in advance, Henderson said."

"Jesus Christ. The undercover was tacitly authorized by Major Brownley when he explained the peanut butter ball to you. Did you tell Bill that?"

"I tried to, but I didn't have anything on paper in advance. So he said he couldn't do anything for me."

"You still got your receipt from Dr. Schwartz?"

"From his nurse, yes. Right here."

"Okay, give it to me. I'll type a backdated okay of one hundred bucks in undercover expenditures and get Major Brownley to sign it. Then I'll give it to Bill and get your money for you. This is something you should've done yourself, Teddy. Paperwork isn't just a part of this job, it's ninety percent of it."

Gonzalez handed over the receipt. "I'm sorry. But I really can't afford to lose that much dough, Sergeant."

"Can you afford coffee and doughnuts?"

Gonzalez grinned and got to his feet. "Glazed?"

"One glazed and one burnt coconut."

Hoke put the receipt into his in-box, as Gonzalez left, and then walked his fingers through the Yellow Pages to limousines. There were more than fifty limousine services listed, to his surprise, not counting the large display ads that repeated some of the same numbers in larger type. Hoke chose the numbers from the display ads that advertised stretch Lincolns first and narrowed his search down to a half dozen. He wrote the numbers on a legal pad and started from the top. On the fifth call he got lucky. The dispatcher said that a Mr. Hutton and party had been picked up the day before in Green Lakes and had been driven to the Port of Miami. They were dropped off at Slip Three, for the -Caribbean Princess-. This ship visited Nassau, in the Bahamas, and the limousine was scheduled to pick up Mr. Hutton and his party again when the boat docked at io:oo A.M. on Sunday. "Actually," the dispatcher said, "the boat's there by nine, but it takes customs about an hour on the boat to check out the crew and aliens first. Passengers start to disembark around ten. Then they get their luggage on the dock and go through a customs check. It all goes pretty fast, once it gets started, but it's usually eleven by the time they're ready to leave. But our man'll be there at ten because that's the official disembarking time."

"How much do you charge an hour?"

"It all depends, Sergeant. Usually it's seventy-five an hour for a stretch Lincoln, but if you want the car and driver for three or four days, we work out a much lower rate."

"But if your driver's at the dock by ten, you gain an extra hour, don't you?"

"Well, I guess so, but it's our experience that it's better to be early than late. People who rent limos don't like to wait."

"Is the driver there?"

"No, sir, he isn't. He's home today."

"Can you have him call me here at the police station?"

"If he's home, I'll tell him."

Hoke gave the dispatcher his extension, thanked him, and racked the phone. He felt relieved but angered as well. He was relieved to know that Ellita and the girls hadn't been kidnapped or made to go with Hutton against their will, but he was angry because they had gone with Hutton and made him worry about them.

Gonzalez came in with the coffee and two doughnuts and put the Styrofoam cup on the desk. The doughnuts were on a paper plate and covered with waxed paper. Hoke wadded the waxed paper into a ball and threw it at Gonzalez, missing by two feet.

"What took you so long?"

"While I was down there, I decided to have a little breakfast. I thought--you know--while I was in the cafeteria, I might as well. It saved two trips, bring you the doughnuts and coffee, and then go back down again--"

"You thought wrong. Take the Russell file, and find the home addresses of Dr. Schwartz and Dr. Farris, and then go downstairs and find out from the desk sergeant who patrols the neighborhoods where they live. I want to see if they're patrolled in the daytime as well as at night."

"What's this for, Sergeant Moseley?"

"I'll explain when you get back."

Hoke ate his doughnuts and finished his coffee before he left his office to talk to Bill Henderson. Henderson was on the phone, and Hoke waited out of earshot until he finished talking and racked the receiver.