Janine Marie - Rigging a Murder 01 - The Single Shoe Mystery (15 page)

I couldn’t argue with that; the monogram was hard to see even close up. I motioned for him to continue.

“So, seeing my chance, I tried to intercept him on the dock but”—here he looked down at his rounded form and patted his girth—“I wasn’t fast enough, so I followed him to the boat.”

“What is in that bag, anyway?” I asked.

“Shoes, I hope.”

We bent down and unzipped it.

“Looks like nothing but clothes,” Trent grumbled. “Still, why did he have Wiffy’s bag? Was he having an affair with her, too?! That BASTARD, slimy asshole, F…” the tirade continued. I was astonished to imagined Wiffy, that mousy women who never spoke and seemed to live in the shadows, not only had Trent terrified of her but was sleeping with John!

“We might as well see if there is anything useful in here,” I said as I pulled a T- shirt and sweater out of the bag and rolled them up to make a pillow for Catherine’s head. Pulling more clothes out I remarked “This is strange. All these clothes are old. And where are the toiletries, deodorant, and shaving stuff?”

“Maybe he planned on using Lorenzo’s. It does appear he planned on taking over Lorenzo’s life, his yacht, and wife,” Trent said as he helped me pull more clothing out of the bag and drape it over Catherine to help keep her warm.

“Look at this.” From the zipper compartment on the side of the bag, I pulled out a white shoe—the twin of one I had seen before. “Is this one of the shoes you are looking for?”

Chapter Twenty-One

“Janeva, Janeva!”

Thomas’s insisted I add his part of the story here

T
homas, returning to the boat, found Greg, who had just arrived from Geranium Island and was keen to tell Thomas about the sweet dark-blue Hinckley T38R convertible that had taken our spot when we left the island. Listening, Thomas loaded up the bags and food cooler from our boat cockpit and into the wheelbarrow, then headed back up the dock, all the time drilling Greg for details about the Hinckley. After loading the bags in the car they headed back down to Greg and Steph’s boat.

“Where is Janeva?” Thomas asked Steph as he entered the cabin of Write-Now, Greg and Steph’s cabin cruiser.

“Haven’t seen her. If I had to guess I’d say she is still happily bleaching the inside of your boat,” joked Steph about Janeva’s love of spray bleach to clean.

“Text or call her to come and join us. There’s no need to run home—Katie’s at a play date, right?” Greg said.

“Greg… it’s a study group!” scolded Steph in good humor. “She is too old for play dates now.”

“Strange, she’s not answering,” Thomas said, looking with mild surprised at his phone. “I wonder if her phone ran out of batteries. She loves texting and normally replies instantly.”

“You boys stay here and drink your beer. I’ll just walk down to your boat and get her,” Steph said, leaving the boat and heading down the dock.

~~~~~~~~~~

Returning a short while later and looking concerned, Steph said, “Thomas, she’s not on your boat but her phone and purse are, and yes, before you ask, her phone is on, and no, your text hadn’t been picked up.”

Greg looking carefully at his wife. “Why the concerned look and tone, Hon? I’m sure she just went looking for Thomas, and is probably wandering around the clubhouse.”

“I’m sure you’re right…. It’s just that she left the Clorox bleach spray, gloves and washcloth out on the counter. It looks like she was partway through cleaning when something caught her attention.”

Laughing, Thomas replied, “That wouldn’t be the first time—she’s easily distracted—but let’s go find her anyway; I’m getting hungry.”

After checking the docks, parking lot, and the clubhouse, the three stood at the railing of the clubhouse deck looking out over the marina.

“Where could she be?” asked Steph.

“The Atlantis?” replied Thomas.

“Really? Why?” Greg asked, squinting into the setting sun and looking at the Atlantis.

“We got a call from Tiffany on our way over here. Apparently John’s wife, Stella, jumped, fell, or was pushed out in front of a commuter train. The hospital staff are looking for John.”

“Is she okay?” Steph asked.

Shaking his head, Thomas replied, “Don’t know. Tiff said she was confused and disoriented. Humph, the hospital probably just needs to know her insurance coverage details.”

“So you think the rumors of John and Catherine having an affair are true, and Janeva went to confront him? That would be highly entertaining and something I would like to witness,” laughed Steph.

Thomas and Greg both laughed also at the vision of Janeva scolding John like he was a child.

“It’s good to have the Atlantis back in the marina, the marina seemed empty without her,” mused Greg, changing the subject. “They must have caught up with and arrested the missing crew for Lorenzo’s murder…. I guess we will never know why they did it,” he continued.

Thomas looked up at Greg with a start. “I didn’t tell you; I started to tell Janeva…”

“What didn’t you tell us?” Greg asked.

“The Canadian police, the RCMP, have called me a several times in the last few weeks.”

“Me too! Questions and more questions, as if I didn’t tell them everything I knew the first time,” Greg agreed.

“They found the two missing crew members and they have been cleared of any wrongdoing. They are foolish, yes, but murders, no. Apparently the first mate, Carl, wanted to propose marriage to his girlfriend, Sandy… remember, she was the housekeeper on the Atlantis. He had this notion that it would be romantic to hike up to the falls and ask her with the falls in the background. They left early that morning, sure that they would be back on the yacht doing their respective jobs well before anyone was up.”

Greg and Steph nodded. Then Greg said, “Okay, so what happened to them? We were there all day and they didn’t return.”

Thomas continued, “You are correct, of course. What the two hadn’t counted on was the mud. The heavy rain from the day and night before had made the trail treacherous. Sandy slipped and fell, sliding back down the trail.”

“Oh dear, did she hurt herself?” Steph asked, concerned.

“Yes,” Thomas continued. “Actually she is very lucky to be alive…. She slid in the mud down an embankment directly toward the falls. Fortunately she got caught up on an outcrop of rock right at the very edge of the falls: she had snagged her shirt on a shrub branch… amazingly lucky for her, a one-in-a-thousand chance. Incredibly, the snag slowed her down enough and so she was able to grab onto a tree just inches from the cliff edge of the falls. Balancing unsteadily on the rock outcrop, she hung on for dear life. Moving ever so slowly and carefully, she eventually managed to get her body wrapped around the tree at her waist, all the time looking down over the cliff, only inches away, at the 100-foot drop. Carl, her boyfriend, was frantic to help her. Now this is where it gets interesting. As she was clawing at the tree, inching her body around it, she lost one of her shoes. The shoe then tumbled down the falls, was caught on the current, and it floated to the dock, where Katie ultimately found it.”

“The same shoe we dismantled yesterday on Geranium Island?” Steph put in.

“Yes, the same one, though at the time we didn’t realize the importance of the shoe because our boats hadn’t been searched, nor had we dismantled the shoe to find the computer chip.”

“That makes sense, but how come Carl didn’t run down the trail to get help?” Greg asked.

“I asked the police officer the same question…. Apparently as he was trying to crawl down to help her, he also slipped and broke his ankle! Can you believe it?”

“No, well yes,… I can imagine how slippery that trail was. It was a hard, steep climb in places when we climbed it, and that was when it was dry, since the weeks before had been hot and sunny with no rain,” Greg commented.

“Didn’t it start to rain again during the day?” Steph asked

“You’re right. We didn’t know it, but the Coast Guard had sent a couple of experienced climbers to look for them as soon as it became clear that the two crew members were missing. I understand that it’s not the first time they have had to rescue someone from the falls,” Thomas continued.

“So they were okay?” Steph asked.

“Exhausted, cold, hungry, and dehydrated, with many bruises, sprains, and a fracture, but fortunately they didn’t get hypothermia. All things considered, they are very lucky.”

“So if they didn’t murder Lorenzo, then who did?” asked Greg.

Thomas suddenly looked stricken as realization dawned on him “Oh, God,” he groaned. “What has she got herself into now? We’ve got to get over to the Atlantis and make sure Janeva is okay!”

“Thomas! What are you talking about?!” demanded Steph “Why would Janeva need our help on the Atlantis?”

Thomas didn’t answer her but instead turned away from the balcony railing they had been leaning on and started hustled through the clubhouse.

“Oh dear, that means it has to be a Yacht Club member… one of us!” cried Steph.

“To quote Janeva’s favorites quote by Sherlock Homes “‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’ Since Janeva and the three of us fall into the impossible category, that leaves Catherine, John, Stella, Trent, and Wiffy. And we know at least two of those four are on the Atlantis with Janeva,” Thomas said over his shoulder as he hurried down the stairs as quickly as was allowed in the  “No running” clubhouse.

Panting to keep up with his speed-walking pace, Steph said, “Oh dear… make that three: I saw Trent following John to the Atlantis when I was putting out the fenders as we were pulling into the marina. I think we can eliminate Wiffy, she is so meek and timid, and Stella is in hospital.”

“Steph! Quit analyzing and hurry up,” Greg called back to his wife, as he and Thomas started running down the dock to the Atlantis.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Where is it?”

“
W
here is the shoe?” Wiffy demanded of John. They were standing in the galley of the Atlantis.

“I don’t get it…. I made the switch on the Atlantis when we were in Princess Louisa.”

“You screwed it up and I ended up with my shoes, not Stella’s.”

“Oh, that’s why you wanted me to bring a bag down with some clothes and the shoe.”

“Bingo! So where is the bag?”

“I left it on the dock, right where you told me to.”

“Well it’s not there now!”

“They must have taken it.”

“Get down to the engine room and check!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Someone is at the door,” I said, nudging Trent.

Slowly the door opened, shining in a thin light from the hallway at Trent and me sitting on the floor with the emptied bag open in front of us.

As we sat watching, the door slowly opening, the black muzzle of a gun was the first thing we saw. Then with a bang the door was flung fully opened to reveal Wiffy holding the gun, which she quickly pointed directly at Trent and me. We sat starring at her in stunned silence.

“That shoe! Give it to me now!” Wiffy yelled.

“Why?” I asked clutching the shoe tighter to my chest.

“None of your concern, just give it to me now or…”

“Or?” I said, looking at the gun. “It’s not looking too great for us as it is. How much worse can it get?”

Trent elbowed me in the ribs and said, sotto voce, “Shut up!”

“You should listen to him…. He knows what he is talking about. Now hand over that shoe,” growled Wiffy.

“If you want the shoe, come and get it,” I replied, thinking that Trent and I might have a chance to overpower her.

I was still shocked at the change in Wiffy. She seemed to have grown taller and her eyes now glared at me dark, black and hard. Thinking about it I realized I had never even seen her eyes before; they were always been shyly downcast. But what was even more surprising was Trent’s response. He was actually hiding behind me, trembling. “Give her the shoe, Janeva,” he whispered urgently.

“NO,” I hissed back. “She will kill us.”

“Janeva, he knows me well, very, well, you should listen to him,” said a calm and amused Wiffy.

“Would you really hurt Trent? He is your husband after all,” I replied.

“True, but he is not a very good one; I’m afraid I chose poorly. Now be a good girl and hand over that shoe.”

I shook my head.

“Okay, you forced me into it,” she muttered, as she reached behind her, grabbing and propelling a surprised John forward into the room.

He looked at us, then back at Wiffy in apparent shock, clearly wondering why he had been suddenly tossed in with us.

“Georgina?” He stammered in surprise.

“Get me that shoe! You moron!” she growled at him.

“Oh,” John turned and walked the few steps to me to grab the shoe, but I anticipated him and moved the shoe out of his reach.

I had taken a Kung Fu self-defense classes with Katie a couple years back, and I was pleasantly surprised as it all came back to me. As he tried again to reach the shoe that I had moved behind my back, I stomped on his foot; when he automatically looked down, I karate-chopped him in the neck, at the same time bringing my knee up between his legs; he doubled over, moving his hands down to his crotch, and I poked my fingers in his eyes.

He fell back, crashing into the engine behind him, then crumbled to the ground crying out in pain, one hand clutched to his eyes, the other to his crotch.

I realized that in the fight I had dropped the shoe and turned to see Trent holding it.

“Trent: bring me the shoe,” came the command from Wiffy.

“Don’t, Trent!” I cried.

To my surprise he looked down at the shoe, then carefully handed it back to me.

Wiffy glared at him. Then shaking her head in disgust, she leveled the gun directly at me.

“As entertaining as this all is, I’ve had enough. Janeva, give me the shoe.”

“Why, you’re not going to shoot us, are you?” I said, trying to call her bluff. This turned out to be a mistake.

She arched her eyebrows, then casually moved the gun a slight two inches and fired. Blowing John’s head into many, many, pieces… brains, skull, and blood flew everywhere, what a mess. Staring in shock at what had been John’s head, all I could think how come in TV and movies it’s a clean hole? And Will I ever sleep again? plus My ears are ringing.

Taking advantage of my dazed confusion, Wiffy stepped into the engine room, stepped over John, and grabbed the shoe out of my unresisting, shaking hands. I looked up at her. My senses were slowly starting to come back, especially if I didn’t look at the bloody ground or the gore-splattered engine behind me.

Wiffy continued to walk backward toward the door, still keeping the gun leveled at me. Trent was now curled up on the floor fetal style, his hands over his head, whimpering.

“You killed Lorenzo!” I screamed.

“That was regrettable,” she replied calmly.

“Why?” Trent asked looking up. The question surprised us all, including Trent himself.

“As you are both dead anyway, I might as well tell you” she boasted.

“Pretty boy John over there—” she laughed a strange strangled laugh as she continued. “He’s not so pretty now, is he?”

She waved the gun at him, then said, “Lorenzo was a genius and had come up with a new computer chip that will revolutionize computing as we know it. My job was to get that chip. You see, what makes the chip so valuable is what is saved on it—confidential plans, computer code, and architecture detailing how to mass manufacture and implement the chips itself, plus a new product utilizing the chip technology that will revolutionize the credit card industry…. It was a tricky job because Lorenzo is very careful and kept this chip in a custom flash drive that he plugged into his computer to work on.”

“How did you get it? I thought Lorenzo always kept his office door locked,” I interrupted.

“Oh aren’t you the clever one. You’re right on both points. I recruited John to create a distraction so I could get into Lorenzo’s office. Of course John was perfectly positioned as he was a guest on the yacht and flirted shamelessly with Catherine when Lorenzo wasn’t looking.”

“Clever!” I said with admiration… I needed to keep her talking.

“I thought so too. I had John create the distraction by drugging that trophy wife of Lorenzo’s. I was the one who went to find Lorenzo in his office to tell him that Catherine needed him, so when Lorenzo ran to help Catherine, I was perfectly positioned to slip in the office and grab the chip.” She smiled like a proud mother; clearly she was proud of her plan.

She turned to leave.

“So if you had your chip, why did you kill Lorenzo then?” I asked in a rush. I had to keep her talking, it was my best chance and I refused to give up!  Katie was young and she still needed me!!

“He caught me… at his computer… trying to get the chip out of that damn flash drive he had it in…. I had to kill him,” she said calmly.

I looked over at Trent, who looked more confused than usual, then turned back to Wiffy, shaking my head and shrugging my shoulders. “I still don’t see why you had to kill him—since you had the graphene chip,” I ventured.

“Even if I could have talked my way out of being in his office on his computer stealing confidential information, how would I have gotten the computer chip in the shoe?” she replied sarcastically, as though it should have been obvious to me. Then suddenly the light dawned.
“WAIT… how did you know the chip was graphene?!” Wiffy yelled in alarm.

Glad my “tactical slip” had done its job, I asked quickly, “What’s with the shoes? Very James Bond, but I don’t get it. Wouldn’t it have been easier to put the computer chip in your pocket?”

A gunshot whizzed past my head, narrowly missing Trent.

I put my hands to my ears; they were ringing with the echo of the gunshot in such a small place. Trent curled himself back into a small ball.

“The shoe was Stella’s, one of a pair that were a gift to her from John. I had them specially designed to hide the computer chip so that she would unwittingly carry it through Customs. Then John would exchange the shoes with mine and I would extract the chip so I could deliver it to Max.”

“Who is Max?”

“Damn!” Wiffy yelled. “I shouldn’t have said his name—but no matter, you’re dead anyway,” she said, laughing that crazy evil laugh again.

“But what went wrong?” I said quickly, still stalling for time.

“Oh you are one for details, aren’t you?” She smiled a cruel smile at Trent, and then to him she said, “Men, that’s the problem: MEN! John gave me the wrong  shoe! Really! I know he was holding out for more money…. Foolish man: you see what happens when you cross Max.” She pointed her gun at John’s mangled head. “But now I have the right shoe and all is well.” Here she lifted the shoe up for us to see.

“But why? Why are you stealing computer chips and shoes? I don’t understand,” Trent asked quietly.

“Didn’t you every wonder where the money came?” It was clearly a rhetorical question, so neither Trent nor I answered.

Wiffy continued. “I refused to live groveling to your mother for every penny… so I started using your connections to steal corporate secrets for Max. He pays very well indeed.” She laughed a manic sort of laugh that sent shivers down my spine.

Looking at her watch she suddenly snapped, “Enough talk!!”

Shaking my head, not sure how I should respond but knowing that Thomas would find me if I just kept her talking, I asked, “So now that you’ve told us everything… are you going to shoot us now?” I was surprised at how calm my voice was.

Wiffy smiled and said “No,” pointing the gun at us and smiling with only her lips. The effect was to crinkle up her glaring eyes, making her look totally crazy. “I can’t leave any evidence this time. When you two idiots were running around the boat I was installing a bomb. It’s hidden deep in the bilge. Ha ha,” she laughed, in a creepy, insane sort of way, then continued, “I’m going to trigger the bomb with my cell phone… in just a few minutes, ah yes, I will be sitting on the clubhouse deck enjoying a nice glass of Chardonnay, waiting for my sweet husband to join me, when this lovely yacht blows.”

Squealing an evil, deranged sort of squeal, that came out like Eeeee, she added, “Of course he can’t join me as he’s is trapped on this death yacht with you.”

Staring at us, she giggled a schoolgirl giggle that was even scarier than the gun and said, “What a field day the club gossips will have trying to piece together what you four were doing on the boat when it exploded. Catherine was having an affair with John; everyone’s guessed that, but was the perfect Janeva sleeping with John too, or with Trent? Or were they having a ménage a quatre? For your sake I hope you didn’t draw Trent, he is such a bore in bed; John on the other hand was… mmmm, quite lovely. It’s such a shame that he had to go and fall for Catherine; can you believe he really wanted to marry her? So much so that he pushed his wife in front of a train so he could be free. Agggg, men are such fools. Look at the time; I must go now. Ta ta.”

“They will catch you, you will be the first person they investigate after the bomb,” I said defiantly—anything just to keep her talking.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve been very careful; every indication will point to this being a accident caused by a generator fuel leak. I know how to do these things, I am an engineer after all…. It’s so sad for you that you had to get involved. Such is life,” she finished with a smile, and then slammed the door shut.

I was moving before the door closed, in a desperate last-ditch effort to get to it before she locked it, but as I first had to step over Trent, and then nearly slipped on some blood as I jumped over John’s body, I was too late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Janeva, Janeva!” Thomas banged on the locked sliding-glass cockpit door of the Atlantis. “Steph, keep banging on the door; Greg, you go up to the fly bridge, and I’ll try the side doors.”

The three met again on the aft deck. “All locked,” said Greg.