Isle of Dogs (35 page)

“That’s your opinion,” Dr. Faux said, and his real nature began to show itself. “You’ll have to prove everything you’re saying and what the reasons are. A lot of people use post office boxes and are shy about having their picture taken. I was not a hostage and there are no hostages.”

“Listen, Doctor Faux, we need your help,” Hammer said, playing the good cop. “The last thing anybody wants is another civil war. The Islanders are citizens of this Commonwealth just the same as you and I, and to fight us is to fight themselves. It’s like getting angry and shooting yourself in the leg. Any civil uproar on the Islanders’ part will only prove self-destructive, and it is the contention of the Coast Guard that when you fired the flare gun three times out in the bateau, you weren’t signaling distress but were making a blatant attempt to shoot down the helicopter.”

“Say what?” Dr. Faux exclaimed.

“I’ll tell you what,” Hammer replied, changing to the role of bad cop now. “When an island declares war on its own government and takes down the state flag and commits a kidnapping, what is anybody supposed to think when suddenly one of these Islanders starts firing at a law-enforcement aircraft? Not to mention, aircraft are part of what the Islanders are upset about because of VASCAR.”

“Fonny Boy shot the flares, not me, and I’m not an Islander,” Dr. Faux quickly pointed the finger. “I told him not to do it. And he’s the one who dropped the crab pot into the sanctuary, too, so he could find that pirate’s ship.”

“Pirate’s ship?” Andy asked.

Fonny Boy tuned in at this and gave Dr. Faux a menacing look.

“You hadn’t orte do that! Doncha be talking about my picaroon ship!” Fonny Boy said in protest. “I knew you was not much count!”

“I count for quite a lot,” the dentist said huffily. “And you didn’t find a ship. What happened, exactly, is a piece of old metal found you.”

“What are you, a magnet?” Andy sarcastically said to Fonny Boy. “I think it’s about time someone told the damn truth around here. Let me see the piece of metal.”

“Yass!” Fonny Boy talked backward, scraping his handcuffs over the tabletop and protectively moving his hands toward a pocket.

“Don’t make me pat you down for it!” Hammer helped Andy gang up on Fonny Boy.

“It’s mine!” Fonny Boy refused to cooperate. “It fell out from the sky and landed on my leg as I was playing the juice harp.”

“Please, let me see the piece of metal,” Andy said, switching to good cop and getting up from his chair. “I promise I’m not going to keep it unless it’s related to a crime or an accident investigation, okay?”

“That’s it!” Fonny Boy was adamant, clutching the right side of his windbreaker, and feeling an unexpected hard lump near the broken zipper.

Curious, Andy dug into the pocket, worked his fingers through a hole and discovered the key to the clinic in the lining.

“Ha!” the dentist blurted out. “The key he took when he locked me inside the clinic after hitting me in the nose for no reason!”

“I thought you said you weren’t kidnapped.” Hammer caught him in a lie.

“I’m an innocent victim,” Dr. Faux said. “I demand to be
released immediately and I fully intend to press charges! Those violent, untrustworthy people on the island held me against my will and probably are the ones who have framed me for fraud!”

“I’ve seen the teeth out there,” Andy said. “And all I have to do is look at Fonny Boy’s teeth, too. How many fillings, root canals, crowns, and extractions has he performed on you, Fonny Boy?”

Fonny Boy couldn’t recall or count that high. He squeezed a pocket of his jeans and felt the piece of metal. Realizing he was in big trouble because the dentist had just ratted on him, Fonny Boy thought it wise to give the trooper what he wanted. The metal probably wasn’t worth much, anyway, and all that mattered was that Fonny Boy get out of here so he could return to the crab pot and find the sunken ship and the treasure.

Andy reverently held the old, irregular, rusting bit of iron, studying it in amazement as if it were a priceless antique.

“We need to carbon-date this,” he said to Hammer. “It could be very important.”

 The day was running out on Andy, and there was still much to do.

Next on his agenda was to pick up Moses Custer at the hospital and make sure he got home safely. Then he had that waterproof suitcase to deliver to Canal Street, where Captain Bonny—a.k.a. Major Trader—had agreed through e-mail to show up so he could get what was coming to him.

You’ll get what’s coming to you, all right, Andy thought as he packed an old, battered aluminum suitcase full of weights from his cramped, makeshift gym in the basement of his row house. How about getting your ass arrested for murder, attempted murder, conspiracy to murder, obstruction of justice, and whatever else I can think of, you son of a bitch?

Andy threw the suitcase, a disguise, and fishing gear into the trunk of his car and hurried downtown to the hospital.

“I’m sorry I took so long to get here,” he apologized as he walked into Moses Custer’s room, a large private one the governor had ordered him moved to, even though Moses was on his way out.

“He’s all ready to go, and it’s about time you showed up, because we need the room,” said a nurse whose nametag read
A
.
CARLESS
.

“Do you pronounce your name
Careless
or
Car-less
?” Andy politely inquired of the woman, who was built like a wrestler and had eyes that looked in two directions at once.

“People pronounce it both ways,” she replied as she began to help Custer out of the bed and into a wheelchair.

“I don’t need no wheelchair,” Custer nervously said. “Ouch! You just hit my mouth with your elbow! Hold on. My gown ain’t closed in the back! Lord help me, Mr. Trooper! Please get this woman away from me! I’m more banged up now than when I got here!”

Moses Custer was a pitiful sight. His head was black and blue, one eye was swollen shut, and he was missing teeth, although it was unclear how much of it was related to the assault. One arm was in a cast that Nurse Carless managed to knock against the bedside table as she tried to force him from beneath the covers into the wheelchair that she had forgotten to secure with the brakes. Before Andy could intervene, she lifted Custer off the bed and set him down hard in the wheelchair, which took off on its own and crashed into a chest of drawers. Custer shrieked as the chair bounced backward and slammed into the bed, his bandaged right foot catching the handle of the bedpan on the floor and sending it flying as the chair spun uncontrollably and threw Moses out.

“Don’t touch me!” he screamed as the nurse lifted him up by the front of his gown, thereby exposing his backside and other parts that were nobody’s business but his own.

“Whoa!” Andy said, gently taking Custer by the elbow, closing the gown and blocking Nurse Carless to prevent further physical harm to the patient. “Where are your clothes, so you can get dressed?”

“My son brought me over some. In that drawer there,” Moses said. “Don’t you get them!” he snapped at the nurse. “Let the trooper get them!”

Andy helped Moses dress over the protests and attempted interventions of Nurse Carless, and then helped him into the wheelchair.

“I’ll wheel you out to the car,” Andy said. “We don’t need your help,” he warned the nurse, who was getting put out and more aggressive.

“It’s hospital policy that a nurse must roll the patient out,” she protested.

“And it’s state police policy that someone in protective custody will be transported by an officer of the law,” Andy replied. “I suggest you don’t interfere, Nurse Care-less.”

“It’s Car-less!” she declared, defiantly putting her hands on her big hips.

Big nurse’s shoes sounded after them as Andy rolled Moses swiftly through the hallway.

“I’m reporting you to my supervisor!” Nurse Carless called out as she shoved an intern out of her way and caused another nurse to swerve and almost crash an IV stand that rolled precariously into a potted corn plant.

M
AJOR
Trader was not the sort to ride the bus unless he was desperate. But when he read the latest Trooper Truth essay, he thought it might be a good idea to stop by the Trail-ways station and get a one-way ticket to Key West, where he had relatives who shared his pirate heritage and would never turn him in to authorities. Clearly, an intensive investigation was underway that would reveal many facts that would not serve Trader well.

Governor Crimm would be no friend when he learned for a fact that Trader had been poisoning him for years. Nor would the governor be happy to learn that Trader had, as a matter of course, lied, withheld and blocked information, forged notes when needed, been lazy, framed colleagues, manipulated news releases to his egotistical and financial advantage, used an Internet alias to conduct illegal business with pirates, was in fact born of pirate stock, was a pyromaniac as a child, and had murdered the fisherman on Canal Street, to mention but a few of Trader’s failings.

He left the bus station, the ticket in his pocket assigned to an assumed name, flagged down a taxi, and headed to Canal Street. Realizing time was running short, Andy had asked Moses if he minded riding along with him on an assignment.

“That nurse slowed us up,” Andy explained. “And I’m supposed to meet a suspect at two-thirty, which is just fifteen minutes away.”

“I’ll be glad to go with you,” Moses replied. “I been cooped up for what seems like a month. A little fresh air and activity would do me good. Can I help with anything?”

“Can you remember anything else about being assaulted?”

“Nope. All I recollect is an angel saying her car broke down and promising me something unique.”

“Unique?” Andy puzzled.

“That what she say.”

“Do you know how to fish?” Andy then asked.

“Is a pig’s ass made of pork?” Moses replied.

Andy parked several streets down from the predetermined location, which just happened to be the place where Trader had murdered Caesar Fender. When the so-called Captain Bonny had exchanged e-mails with Andy, who was really signed on with Possum’s screen name (although Andy didn’t even know Possum’s real identity yet), Andy had suggested the location of the drop. He thought it might add insult to injury if he not only lured Trader back to the scene of his crime, but rewarded his evil deeds with a suitcase full of iron and a free ride to the city lockup. Andy popped the trunk and lifted out the suitcase. He put on the same fake beard, ponytail wig, and frumpy clothes he’d worn undercover on Tangier Island and handed Moses a fishing pole.

“All you got to do is fish,” he told Moses as they walked in the direction of the retaining wall at the river’s edge. “You just fish and don’t pay any attention to me. What will happen is a man will show up and try to pick up this suitcase, as if it belongs to him. He won’t be able to move it an inch and will struggle with it. I’ll volunteer to help him, and next thing he knows, he’ll have on handcuffs and will be on his way to jail.”

“Uh-huh. Sound good to me,” Moses said.

“Then I’ll get you home safe and sound.”

“Yeah.” Moses limped along. “That sound fine.”

Tatters of yellow crime-scene tape fluttered in a stiff cold wind and Moses looked around a bit uneasily and stared at a burn mark on the concrete and an overturned plastic bucket.

“Well, look at that,” Andy said in annoyance as he picked up the bucket. “Yeah, real good policing. I can’t believe they just left this thing lying around out here.”

He set the bucket on the wall and placed the heavy suitcase several feet away. Moses tied a plastic worm on his fishing line and attached a bobber.

“This ain’t where that fisherman blowed up, is it?” he worried.

“As a matter of fact, it is,” Andy replied, preparing his own fishing gear.

“I hope you ain’t meeting no killer here,” Moses said. “I had my share of mean people for a while.”

“Don’t be alarmed,” Andy assured him. “Just mind your own business and fish. The person who’ll show up isn’t going to do anything to you. All he wants is to grab this suitcase and run.”

“Got to admit, no one would ever recognize you in that getup,” Moses said, smoothly casting his line into the sluggish, rocky river. “You look like a leftover hippie, one of them types that drives an old VW with big flowers stuck all over it.”

“Good. And make sure you don’t call me Andy or Trooper when this dude shows up.”

“Not me,” Moses said. “I ain’t tipping my hand with no killer around. Why’d he blow up that poor black fisherman, and what makes you so sure he won’t take one look at me and decide to do the same thing? You gonna need to put a bobber on or your worm’s gonna sink straight to the bottom and get hung on a rock.”

“This guy just wants to take the money and get the hell out of Dodge,” Andy said as he clipped a bobber on his line and cast it into the river. “Besides, I’m here, and if he tries anything, he’ll have a big problem on his hands.”

“You packing?”

“Got my friend right here in the back of my waistband,” Andy said as he felt a slight tug on his line.

Major Trader rolled up in a Blue Bird taxi and told the driver to wait or he wouldn’t get paid. Trader spied two bums fishing on the wall and a beat-up aluminum suitcase sitting all by itself. His loaded flare gun was in his coat pocket just in case anybody tried to give him a hard time, and he strode right up to the suitcase.

“This belong to either of you fellows?” Trader asked.

“Never seen it before in my life,” Andy replied, because it was perfectly acceptable to be deceptive when one was undercover.

“Me, neither,” Moses echoed. “Was sitting there just like it is when we come here to fish.”

“Someone stole my car and my suitcase was in it, which is why I had to take a taxi,” Trader lied. “I had a feeling whoever the culprit was, he’d probably dump the suitcase somewhere because there’s nothing in it but clothes and a few books.”

“Help yourself,” Andy said.

Trader took a good look at the two fishermen to make sure they weren’t paying him any mind and would not be able to identify him later, should they ever get questioned. Both of them were obviously losers and probably had never held a real job in their lives. Why else would they be out fishing on a Friday afternoon while decent people were at work? Trader grabbed the suitcase handle and his shoulder practically came out of the socket as he yanked.

“Shit!” he muttered in surprise.

The damn thing must weigh two hundred pounds! He imagined hundreds of silver dollars and stacks of bills and maybe gold. The pirates must have made quite a score. He tried to lift the suitcase again and couldn’t get it an inch off the ground. Then he tried to open it, but the combination was set and the locks wouldn’t budge. While he was deliberating what to do and furtively glancing about and starting to sweat, the old black fisherman, who looked as if he had been in a bad car wreck, jerked up his pole and started reeling hard.

“Got me one,” Moses announced for all to hear. “Yes sir, this baby ain’t long for the water.”

“How do you always do that?” Andy played his role. “Every time I come out here with you, you catch a bucket of fish and I go home with nothing.”

It was then that Trader noticed the familiar white plastic bucket, and his adrenaline kicked in and an internal alarm went off.

“That your bucket?” Trader asked as he tried different lock combinations.

“Sure is,” Moses replied.

“Then how is it the bucket has
Parks Seafood
on it, which is
a Tangier Island fish shop?” Trader was getting suspicious and felt for his flare gun. “That bucket came from the governor’s mansion, so don’t be telling me it belongs to you.”

“Wouldn’t know. Never been to the gov’ner’s mansion, but I’m going tomorrow ’cause the gov’ner taking me to the NASCAR race. Someone left that bucket out here,” Moses said, reeling in a fish. “Didn’t seem like nobody wanted it. And I don’t mind returning it to the mansion when I get there.”

“Well, if it’s yours now,” Trader said, walking over to get a closer look, “then why is it you have no water in it? Seems to me, if you intended to use it for the fish you catch, you would have bothered to fill it with water. And I know for a fact you’re not going to the race with the governor!”

The fish broke the surface of the river as it fought for its life, and Andy thought it looked familiar.