Stairway to the Bottom - a Mick Murphy Key West Mystery (27 page)

I had concerns with the Cold War idiots and decided to air them, since Chris was involved and a captive audience. How honest would she be? Who would Norm support?

“Do you know anyone who has seen the diamonds?” I asked. “Do you know anyone involved with the deal?”

Chris shook her head.

“How do you know the diamonds are real? Or the deal ever went down.”

She looked at Norm and he was noncommittal. “For years the rumor mill at the Agency has speculated about what happened to the diamonds.”

“Who was involved? And, more important, who’d pay a million or more to someone and not get the list,” I said. “That bothers me. Payments made, but no one got the document.”

“Someone got the documents, it just wasn’t us,” Chris said.

“Who?”

“It has to be someone whose name was on it, since the list never surfaced.”

“Any speculations at the rumor mill?”

“Yeah.” She stifled a laugh. “Everyone but us!”

“What about the CIA agents involved?”

“The two agents that handled it are dead.”

“Natural causes?”

“Questionable causes,” she said. “Shirrel Rhoades died in a house explosion and Dick Wagner was a hit and run.”

“Soon after this went down?”

“Yes, and suspicious. But the Agency investigated and cleared both as accidents.”

“Two guys hand off a million or more for a document they don’t get, they die right afterward and no one thinks that’s odd?” I kept being disappointed in the work ethic of our intelligence agencies.

Chris looked at Norm. “He doesn’t understand?”

Norm shook his head. “No.”

“First of all, a million dollar payment is nothing,” she said. “We were paying that to sources all over Europe.”

“South America, Central America too,” Norm said. He stuck his hand over the rail and into the water, testing it for something, maybe the temperature. “It’s not a lot of money.”

“What if the agent you’re looking for was killed by whoever bought his documents?”

“We’ll never know that, will we,” she said. “His body could’ve been discovered years ago, but since we don’t know who he is, or was, we wouldn’t know about it. Or he could be a government minister in Europe and we wouldn’t know.”

“You have a good point there, but the diamonds have piqued a few interests,” I said. “You ever read the ‘Maltese Falcon’?”

“No,” Norm said.

“I saw the movie on TV,” Chris said.

“No one ever saw the real falcon, but they were chasing it around the world,” I said. “A great mystery by

Dashiell Hammett.”

“What does an old movie have to do with this?” Norm said, sitting up.

“I don’t think anyone involved has ever seen the diamonds, just like no one ever saw the Maltese Falcon. They’re a rumor. I’m not convinced they’re real,” I said. “I can’t figure out why everyone’s looking for these diamonds. Diamonds they’ve only heard rumors about and there’s no proof they exist.”

“It gives them something to do,” Norm said.

“Greed,” Tita said. “All these things come down to greed.”

“That’s kind of obvious,” I said. “Do we even know how many are searching?”

“Four you’ve had dealings with,” Norm said.

“And the South Africans are coming and so are the Germans,” Chris said. “That’s six.”

“Six times what? Three CIA, right?”

Chris nodded.

“No back up?”

“Him,” she pointed to Norm.

“Three frogs and they said there were more.”

“I told you they all lie,” Norm said.

“Three Limeys, one Israeli for sure and six Russians,” I said. “The numbers are diluting the value of the diamonds.”

“The Russians did that a few years back by flooding the diamond market,” Chris said.

“So there are sixteen people we know of. Counting you,” I said to Chris. “On their own or with government support?”

“We’re on our own,” she said. “But a few people at Langley know.”

“I think it’s a dog and pony show,” I said. “Whether it started back at the end of the Cold War or just recently, it’s about something else.”

“Tita is right, about us anyway, we want the money,” Chris admitted. “There’s nothing else.”

“I don’t believe you.” I turned to Norm. “No one tells the truth you said.”

“I did.”

“You know what I think?” They looked at me. No one answered. “I think the heads of the different agencies got together and made up the whole scenario. They saw the Wall come down and had some kind of meeting, admitted life would change.”

“And they took one last payday, for themselves,” Norm said.

“Yeah, that’s the way I see it and now all these years later pieces of their story fall into place and we’ve got a shit pot of over-the-hill spies searching for something that doesn’t exist,” I said.

“You’re sounding like a conspiracy theorist,” Tita said. “Who really killed Kennedy? Was Pope John poisoned? You sound like that.”

“It’s irrelevant,” Chris said. “The people here looking for the diamonds, or whoever has them, are real.”

“And deadly,” Norm said.

Chapter 61

T
ita gave me control of the
Fenian Bastard
as we neared Sand Key. I sailed into the wind so she and Norm could lower the mainsail and then Tita took back the wheel.

“Buoy at twelve o’clock,” she called out.

The reef is part of the Sanctuary, a no anchoring and no fishing zone, so you have to tie off to a mooring buoy, if you want to stay. I stood on the bow with a pole hook, grabbed the buoy line and handed it off to Norm. He ran one of our deck lines through the mooring line’s hooped end, tied if off and dropped it overboard. The other end of our line tied off to a bow cleat. Tita had the engine in neutral and as soon as Norm dropped the line, she shut it off.

The
Fenian Bastard
moved slowly until the bowline tightened, then she stopped and turned with the current. We were as still as the water allowed.

Norm took two dive tanks from the bow locker.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Chris asked Tita as she tried on a set of fins.

“I get down about ten feet and that’s good enough,” she answered.

“Me too,” I said.

Because it’s illegal to touch or stand on the reef, Tita and I wore small buoyancy vests. You filled the vest with air by blowing into a small tube on its front and deflated it by letting air out the same tube when you wanted to dive down. It allowed us to float over sections of the coral reef without effort and not touch it.

“You won’t need the knife,” I said watching Chris and Norm attach dive knives to their upper leg. “It’s a no take zone and there’s nothing down there bigger than you.”

“I might need it to fend off Norm if he gets fresh.” Chris smiled.

“I’m never stale,” Norm said, belting the air tank to his back.

“At the Farm our instructors explained that when we’re in the water, we’re out of our natural element,” Chris said, adjusting her air tank. “Not like a dark street in Budapest, he told us, where you can find a paving brick or car antenna as a weapon. In the water you have what you brought with you.”

“I learned it from being in the Boy Scouts,” Norm said. “Be prepared.”

Tita looked around the water. “I chose here because of the boats.” She pointed off the stern. “Coast Guard checking the snorkeling and dive boats, now that’s convenient. I can’t imagine Pauly arranging it or him letting Mick out here alone.” She waited for Norm’s reply.

“You’re observant, counselor,” Norm said.

“Yes, and persistent.” Tita pulled her dive bag from a locker, found her mask and fins, then handed me mine. “I’m here to enjoy myself and, as God is my judge, if anything happens out here, you both will answer to me!” She looked at Norm and Chris.

They sat on the edge of the boat, ready for their dive. “Mick, I think there’s been a mutiny by your crew.” He laughed and fell into the water, followed by Chris. They were underwater and gone in seconds.

Tita slipped out of the T-shirt. There were no tan lines on her bronze body. She put on the fins. “We stay together.” She played with adjusting the strap on her mask.

“Of course.”

“I wanted to be alone,” she said and smiled.

“We will be,” I said. “There’s tonight.”

“Just you and me, okay?”

“The way I want it,” I said as we both dropped into the water.

Tita swam next to me and it only took a couple of kicks of our fins for us to be over the coral reef. The water was warm and crystal clear. Small, colorful tropical fish swam beneath us, darting in and out of the reef. Sea grass swayed on the bottom because of the current. Yellow-tailed snapper hid in crevasses and barracudas stayed motionless in the lower shadows waiting for an injured fish to get within range. On the sandy bottom, a nurse shark moved, creating a sand cloud.

We could see people snorkeling along the reef line and bubbles floating upward indicated that divers were on the bottom. The surface was less than ten feet from the reef, where we were, and we floated on top, holding hands and letting the current move us.

Tita pulled my arm and pointed behind us. I saw the boat’s keel and nodded. We had floated a long distance, caught up in the silence and beauty below. Tita turned to follow the reef line while I swam a direct route to the boat. I watched her for a minute and thought how beautiful she was, even under water. Gentle kicks of her feet moved the flippers ever so slightly and she glided through the water like a predator in search of its prey.

I felt a tug on my flipper and turned expecting to see Norm. It was someone else in scuba gear, holding a large dive knife. Using the knife, he pointed across the reef. I shook my head and with short angry motions of the knife, he pointed across the reef again.

I saw Tita turn, looking for me. I swam back to where we’d been, wanting to take this threat as far away from her as possible. I kicked hard and fast, but he swam underneath me and kept up. I breathed through the snorkel but needed fresh air, to open my mouth and breathe in deeply. My heart pounded. I surfaced and spit out the snorkel’s mouthpiece. There was no one on the surface. Tita popped up, a small speck on the water, but I knew it was her. I could see the
Fenian Bastard
in the background.

A strong yank on my leg pulled me under before I could replace the mouthpiece. I snagged a breath and a taste of salt water before closing my mouth as I went under. The diver wasn’t giving me directions, he was coming at me with the knife in his out stretched arm. I kicked at him and lost one fin. He slowed down but then slashed at my foot and I felt the blade against my ankle. I tried to swim to the surface, kicking at him. I surfaced, took a long, deep breath and looked below. He was coming, the knife leading the way. Blood colored the water around my foot.

I had to stay on the surface it was my only advantage. Dive tanks would be cumbersome and slow him down allowing me some maneuvering room. Underwater, he had all the advantages. All I could do was kick at him, but with his knife, my kicks were no threat. I could hold my breath for a minute or two that was it.

I swam the reef line, away from where he wanted me to go and Tita. I headed toward a section of reef that was less than five feet from the surface. If I could stand, I had a few seconds advantage. He would have to lose the tanks. It was a difficult swim with only one fin. I knocked the remaining fin off with my foot and for the first time felt pain in my ankle. I kicked harder, using my arms to swim faster.

I felt him grab hold of my leg. I took a deep breath and realized he meant it to be my last. He pulled me down. I bent over and went for his mouthpiece. It surprised him. He slashed at me, but I kept going, reaching for the narrow air supply line. I wanted to grab hold of something and pull it to take his advantage away.

I hit his mask with my palm and yanked at the mouthpiece. He bit down hard to keep it in place. With my left hand, I held his knife attack off. I let go and grabbed the more flexible air supply line with both hands, yanking it, and the gauges attached to it came lose.

I felt the knife go into my side as he twisted it. I held onto the thin line and it come off in my hand. I wanted to yell in excitement. My lungs burned. I needed air. The water around me was turning red from my blood. I let go of whatever I had grabbed onto and tried to swim to the surface. I didn’t move. My vision got blurry. I felt around in the murky water, wanting to push my assailant away and get to the surface. He wasn’t there. Not within my reach anyway. I touched my side and felt blood. I looked up and the surface looked so far away.

Chapter 62

I
felt hands on me and fought back. I knew I was underwater and had to hold my breath. Pain stabbed at my side. I could feel the knife cutting. I let out a breath.

Norm held down my shoulders with his hands. He was dripping water.

“Breathe,” he ordered and I tried to breathe in.

My lungs hurt. I coughed up salt water. I was on my back on a boat’s deck.

Murdock, one of Pauly’s guys, messed with my side.

Bruehl held down my legs.

“Tita!” I said.

“On the
Bastard
, with Chris,” Norm said. “You’re okay.”

“This is going to hurt,” Murdock said.

“It already hurts,” I said, breathing like a tired runner. “He stabbed me.”

“No, he slashed you,” Murdock said.

“He wasn’t trying to kill you,” Norm said. “He wanted to hurt you and bloody the water.”

“He did.”

“He wiggled the knife to make the slash wider, to bleed, to hurt,” Norm said. “We’ve got another problem.”

“Russian?”

“Yeah,” Norm said. “He wanted to take you alive. There has to be a boat out here with an accomplice or two.”

“Ask him,” I said, not wanting to know what Murdock was doing. There wasn’t pain now; it felt like being in the dentist chair after Novocain, the sound of what was going on was bad enough.

“He ain’t here,” Norm said, looked at Murdock and then at me. “You okay?”

I nodded. Norm and Bruehl let go of me and I looked toward Murdock. He was kneeling next to me, putting things