Stairway to the Bottom - a Mick Murphy Key West Mystery

BOOK: Stairway to the Bottom - a Mick Murphy Key West Mystery
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Stairway to the Bottom - a Mick Murphy Key West Mystery
Michael Haskins
(2011)
Rating: ★★★★☆

After finding the murdered female killer from the Cold War era, Mick Murphy faces off with a hit man for recently arrested Boston gangster Whitey Bulger. The hit man has  fled from witness protection to collect Bulger's hidden millions. At the same time, retired Cold War agents come to Key West looking for someone that walked off with more than $20 million in diamonds and they believe the missing hit man is their guy. Murphy thinks the situation is funny as he meets and talks to the agents, but dislikes the hit man even though Padre Thomas, the priest that sees and talks to angels, has given him absolution. Though the comedy of errors soon turns tragic for Murphy. 

It's not long before his government, black-bag buddy Norm Burke shows up with CIA agents in tow, looking for the diamonds. They are soon followed by the British, French, Israeli agents and the Russian mafia. Everyone assumes Murphy can lead them to the Cold War fugitive, while Murphy tries helplessly to explain the man they are looking for is a Boston gangster. 

On the water, snorkeling at the reef with his fiance Tita, Norm and a female CIA agent, everything in Murphy's world begins to unravel. As both those looking for the hit man and those looking for the diamonds collide,Murphy's world changes forever.

Add a few disgruntled retired FBI agents, also looking for Bulger fortune, and willing to do anything to get it and Murphy's world in Paradise begins to resemble hell. In the end, Murphy's world is torn apart.

About the Author

Haskins has been the business editor for the daily Key West paper and the city's public information officer. He lives in Key West, where most of his A Mick Murphy Key West Mystery series is set.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
About the Author

Stairway
to the
Bottom

A Mick Murphy Key West Mystery

By MICHAEL HASKINS

Stairway to the Bottom—

A Mick Murphy Key West Mystery

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Copyright © 2012 by Michael Haskins

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.

No part of this work covered by the copyright herein may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or used in any form or by any means graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, recording, scanning, digitizing, taping, Web distribution, information networks, or information storage and retrieval systems, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without the prior written permission of the author.

Published in 2012

Michael Haskins

www.michaelhaskins.net

Dedication

For my sister
Nina
Patty. She set an example for me my whole life, even though I didn’t recognize it for a while. She showed me that life was what you made of it and when I finally understood that dreams were part of life, I got on with it and she was right.

For my wife Celine. She has suffered the trials and tribulation of my wandering through life, looking for the reason of it all. She has waited all these years for me to grow up. Well, maybe one day, but right now the grownups in charge don’t seem to be doing a very good job.

I’ve warned my daughters, Seanan & Chela, that soon they’d be older than me, so slow down kids. Do children ever listen? They’ve made my life enjoyable.

I miss my brother Danny and son Sean. Their enthusiasm for my accomplishments, no matter how small, helped me focus. I wish they could’ve stuck around until some of their enthusiasm rubbed off. This book is for them and because of them.

Thanks are due to many singer-songwriters but I single out Kris Kristofferson because his music helped me make it through the night and any number of days. We shared beers and whatever a few times upstairs at Doug Westin’s Troubadour, way back when. Times I’ll never forget. Thanks for the songs that made me realize I wasn’t alone.

Acknowledgements

This story is the result of many hours of being in locked a room alone with my imagination and a laptop. But the end result, the book you’re reading, is the combined efforts of others; Jim Linder who checked for my mistakes concerning weapons and tactics—any errors in the book are mine, poetic license allows that; Nadja Hansen, my editor who still is amazed that I can fool spell check and turn a perfectly good sentence into gibberish; thankfully, she does her magic and makes it readable—
[email protected]
; and Jen Musselman who took my imagination and was able to design a cover for it—
[email protected]
; Bob Pierce for his expertise in sailing and sharing it with me; Bill Lane, for his willingness to share his advertising experience with me while at lunch or drinks and cigars—
www.fastlaneadvertising.com/
—I owe y’all a debt of gratitude; and for fellow writer Wayne Gales, thank you for your help and letting me borrow Bric,
www.keywestdoorstepcom
; thanks is due Key West photographer Rob O’Neal for taking my photo and running it through PhotoShop enough times to make me appear human—
www.roboneal.com
.

I would be amiss if I didn’t thank the three people who allow me to sit with them Monday nights as we critique each other’s work. I get a hell of lot more than I give. Thank you for your insights Mike Dennis, Jessica Argyle, and Sarah Goodwin-Nguyen.

Readers have asked in what order my books, and short stories were written. I have to tell them that’s a tricky answer. The easiest way to understand is go to my website and read the Solares Hill piece entitled “The Lost Manuscripts.*” I’m going to list the books and short stories by chronological order and next to it the published date, if any.

Mick Murphy Mystery Novels:

*Revenge, June 2011**

*Tijuana Weekend, February 2011**

*Who’s to Bless, Who’s to Blame, unpublished

Chasin’ the Wind, February 2008**

Free Range Institution, March 2011

Car Wash Blues, August 2012

Stairway to the Bottom, December 2011**

Mick Murphy Mystery Short Stories:

**Finding Picasso, Saturday Evening Post—Jan/Feb 2011

**Murder in Key West, Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine—March/April 2007

**The Floater—June 2009

**The Drum Stick Murder—July 2010

Vampire Slayer Murder in Key West—Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine—Sept/Oct 2011

**Also available on Kindle

Chapter One

I
f I hadn’t gone to watch the comedy showcase at the Key West Fringe Theater, I wouldn’t have silenced my cell phone. If I hadn’t silenced my cell, I would have answered Dick Walsh’s first call at 1:10 A.M., and then things might not have gone so badly.
If
is a damn big word for only having two letters.

I unplugged the cell from its charger in the morning and the lighted screen reminded me it was on silent mode and that I had five messages.

Each of Dick’s messages was more frantic and pleading than the last. He needed help, but didn’t say for what. By the third message, he was cussing but still wanted me to call and that was at 3:15. He didn’t sound drunk, like most three in the morning callers do, he sounded scared.

The fifth and final message came at 5:36. He had calmed down, asked me to come by his house as soon as possible and gave me the address. His composed voice assured me I would understand the problem after I arrived and he would be in touch later.

“Mick, I need you to believe me, it isn’t what it looks like. Please help me,” his message ended with a quiet plea.

I dressed quickly in last night’s clothing and swallowed cold water from a bottle out of the cooler. Before I got into my Jeep and drove to Dick’s house on Von Phister Street, I called his cell but it went to voice mail and I left a message. We were playing phone tag.

Von Phister is a narrow, tree-lined street in a quiet neighborhood of old and new houses. Dick’s was an old two-story house with a large gumbo-limbo tree in front and two more in back. He actually had a decent-size backyard, something that is at a premium in Key West.

The house was dark. It was almost six-thirty, about an hour since his last call. The sky was a light gray with a reddish-purple sunrise pushing the dawn westward. Only a large yellow tomcat crossed my path on the empty street.

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