Clint Faraday Mysteries collection A Muddled Murders Collector's Edition (42 page)

“
I don’t
get it?”

“
If I
find the money I can trace where it came from. Considering those
large amounts, such information cannot easily be hidden. The serial
numbers are recorded.”

“
And?”

“
I will
retrieve the materials and eliminate the ones who are doing this.
The materials will be delivered to the original buyers.”

“
I still
don’t get it?”

“
The
buyers worked through a middle man. He stole the materials and gave
them to those who have them now. The original buyers were to pay
much less. That money will tell me who they are. I know only as a
generality.”

“
How did
Sally Davis-Wallace end up with the money, then?”

“
That
seems a question that answers itself when one adds together the
facts you now have. She moved in and eliminated the original middle
man.”

“
Were
those materials actually delivered?”

He looked thoughtful. “Wouldn’t that make a
very sick joke of all this? So many people dead and she would be
the one who would take the money and try also to sell the things
elsewhere. She was clever and stupid at the same time. I will first
investigate as to whether said materials were yet delivered. If not
... where are they?”

“
THAT, I
can find! I think if they were delivered there would be some very
loud bragging about it.”

“
My first
doubt when you mentioned the possibility. Why have not they told
the world what they have? Is it because they don’t have
it?”

“
Here’s
my card. Call me the second you know if they do or don’t have the
stuff. Meanwhile, I’ll start tracing to where it might be. I think
I have a clue. A word used by the wrong person in the wrong
way.”

“
And you
may reach me ... here,” Marks answered, punching Clint’s number. He
let Clint’s phone buzz three times, then cut. Clint marked the
number and saved it in the phone.

Clint headed back to the Davises. Brucey-boy
had let the wrong thing slip.

“
No
bullshit! If you’re holding something from her get to the nearest
hospital NOW and get checked for radiation poisoning,” Clint
greeted when Papa answered the door. Bruce actually fainted. Mama
looked like she would.

“
Oh, dear
GOD!” Bernice cried. “Why would she DO that to us?! Oh, dear GOD!
We knew she was unbalanced, but there are limits ... oh, dear
GOD!”

“
Where is
it? We have to stop the spread of anything that dangerous. I’ll
even try to help you to not get stood against a wall to have your
stupid fucking heads blown off by a firing squad if you help
now.”

He went to Bruce and slapped him a few times.
Hard. He sat up.

“
Where is
it, bright boy? Any shit and you end up dead by law instead of by
slow radiation poisoning.”

“
In the
barn. I swear I didn’t know! I thought it was just money! It was
too heavy, but I thought they had it in lead boxes so no one could
x-ray it! I swear!”

“
There’s
a storm shelter under the horse barn on our place in Carmel. It’s
down there. I was only there a few times to see the money was
alright,” Edgar said. “They brought it in with horses. From
Australia. The horses died and we never knew why.”

“
There’s
a camera system that’s run by the computer in the little office in
front of the barn. Inside the file cabinet,” Bernice said. “Dear
God! We didn’t know anything about anything but the money! I
swear!”

Clint punched speed-dial for Marks and said,
“Carmel. Horse barn. Beneath floor in storm shelter. I report to
the CIA in less than one hour. Money and material. Comp
surveillance in office in front. File cabinet.”

Marks grunted and dropped offline.

“
Hospital,” Clint ordered. The Davises got a cab. Clint
headed for Tocumen airport. He would contact a friend in the CIA
when he got off the plane in Bocas. He wanted a little chat with
Vern.

“
The FBI
will descend on that place like killer bees,” Clint said. Marko
said the stuff was gone in twenty six minutes from when Clint
called him. He used to own a place in Carmel and had some of his
people watch, but not interfere. He didn’t want to get messed up
with nuclears. Two large container trucks came in and parked by the
barn. The help on the place were herded by four masked men into
another barn and held until the trucks drove off ten minutes later.
The front loader at the barn was used. The stuff was lifted with
the backhoe and placed with the front loader. The cameras were
disabled. Seems the men in the trucks knew just where to find the
computer surveillance system.

“
Nuclears?” Vern asked.

“
Everything in that cellar, I imagine,” Marko replied. “They
would take it all. I’m sort of surprised there was enough strong
radiation leakage to cause much problems. The stuff was all in lead
boxes.”

“
I saw
the pallor of the Davises. Edgar let it slip that he couldn’t stop
himself from going down there and checking the money. She probably
put the stuff in the same containers as the money. That was why
there were so many lead boxes. Three would hold all the
radioactives they had. Six or eight. They wouldn’t chance critical
mass. Definitely not a truckload or two!”

“
Who gets
that money?” Vern asked. “Who gets the nuclear junk?”

“
Marks
will keep half of the money and the original sellers will get the
original price,” Marko answered. “That’s simply what he considers
his commission and why they’ll always be willing to deal with him.
The original buyers will get the material. Same deal. He’s probably
honest in saying he wouldn’t get involved with terrorists. Not
because he has any moral compunctions, but because that would put
him into a personally dangerous position. He’s not afraid of dying,
he’s afraid of being shamed and imprisoned.”

“
Sociopath. You said that right!” Vern replied. “You said
there was already a billion missing? She spent it? What was she
financing?”

“
We’ll
have to see who suddenly comes out of the woodwork,” Marko said
dryly. “They’ll probably come to you.”

Vern grinned. “I’ll send them to you.”

“
No. Send
them to Clint. I’m just a retired bum from the states, not some
international gangster.”

Clint gave him the finger. Vern said he
seemed to have a lot of contacts among gangsters.

“
Hell! I
was in transportation and construction in CALIFORNIA!” Marko shot
back. “OF COURSE I know hundreds of gangsters! I came here to get
away from the type!”

That got the finger from Vern.

Marko went to the house phone to receive a
call from Panamá City. He came back to say the Davises were all
suffering from critical radiation poisoning. Bruce would never have
children and they would all be plagued with recurring cancers for
as long as they lived. That wouldn’t be many years.

“
Rich as
Midas until they die – and they’ll die soon and painfully,” Vern
said.

“
Were you
ever around that money?” Clint asked.

“
Hell no!
I didn’t know anything about it!” Vern replied. “Unless she had
some kind of transmittable stuff on her I don’t worry for a single
second about radiation poisoning.”

“
Okay.
Let’s go fishing for the afternoon,” Clint suggested.

They did that.

Who
Needs It?

“
Clint!
Turn on your damned phone!” Judi called across the water. Clint
waved and turned it on. He was a bit surprised it was
off.

No charge. He plugged it into the charger and
immediately got the buzz. It was Abel.

“
I’m here
with Sam Downy. We want to know if there’s any way we can get more
of our investment back now that Bathner is dead. I would think his
part should be divided among the survivors. It WAS a survivor
contract.”

Shit!

“
I
imagine so. You two and Vern should get your percentages of it.
Yvon’s, too. This was one fucked-up deal from the get-go! I hope I
never get involved in this kind of thing again. International
terrorists and gangsters, I don’t need!”

“
Terrorists?” Abel asked. “What the hell ... I don’t know
anything except that they’re all dead and there was some connection
with Syria!”

Clint felt a bit evil. “Oh, that’s right. You
weren’t in on the last part. You were funding a bunch of terrorists
who had gotten their hands on some nuclear crap they were going to
use to annihilate Israel and the US. We got them all – I hope.”

“
You
HOPE?!” He actually squealed. “Annihilate ISRAEL? You HOPE you got
them all?”

“
Well,
you can never be certain about that kind of thing. Seven billion
dollars is a lot to keep track of. We think we have it all. At
least enough to make what we can’t account for not too
dangerous.”

“
This is
Sam Downy. Frank just pissed in his pants and is having a heart
attack or something. What the hell did he mean about ‘annihilate
Israel?’ What in hell is going on?”

“
You were
financing a terrorist group who were using the money to buy
nuclears or something. We think we got them all. We can’t know how
much material was moved, seeing it was old cold war stuff from
Russia. Sally Wallace was one nasty piece of work. It seems to be
her idea or her deal or something. With her out of the picture ...
oh, shit! Who were the Cartworthys working for?

“
I have
to make a call. Maybe you can get some more of your money back with
Batty and Yvon dead. Have the sense not to get involved with
anymore shady shitheads. Let this be a lesson. Money is NOT the
only thing in life. As a friend who you know says, ‘Money can’t buy
heaven, but it sure will buy hell!’ Think about it. He has more
money than he knows what to do with so he can speak from
experience.”

“
Lariez?”

“
Among
others. I have to make a call or two.” He shut off and called
Marks. “No BS. Did the Cartworthys work for you?”

“
Cartworthys? No one named Cartworthy ever worked for ...
the ones who killed Wallace?”

“
Uh-huh.”

“
No.”

“
Thanks.
I have to find out who they DID work for.

“
Gordo?
That was the link. He’s still alive now that that storm’s over. I
want to know for my own information. I’d just as soon let the rest
of it lie.”

“
Gordo?
He works for Smednoff. Smednoff is not involved.”

“
So that
explains why Gordo’s running scared.”

“
I think
I see. The materials and money are in their proper places. I also
wish to ‘let it lie,’ as you say.”

“
It will.
This is a personal thing that I want to clear up, then I’ll go
fishing and screw the rest of this mess.” They chatted about
fishing for a few minutes, then Clint called the airport and booked
for Panamá City.

“
Greetings. Gordo Sandista?” Clint greeted. Two thugs at the
next table tensed. Gordo waved at them to relax and replied, “Yes.
Clint Faraday. I was more or less expecting you to come. Please sit
and have some of the excellent fare served here. You can see by
observing my gross middle that I particularly enjoy good
food.

“
I owe
you. You have inadvertently saved my life – for which I owe you
gratitude and thanks. Now you have a question. I’m not sure what
that question is. You have always been a step or two ahead of such
as me.”

“
Who?”

“
Which
who?”

“
Who
hired the death of Sally Wallace?”

Gordo paused, grinned sickly and said that
was generally what was called “privileged information.” He would
not hesitate to tell Clint, but would Clint please not reveal where
he got the answer?

“
It’s for
personal reasons. I know within three who it is. Just for my peace
of mind, which one?”

“
Bruce.”

Clint nodded. “I said from the time I met him
he was very much like her.”

“
What
will you do?”

“
Nothing.
He’ll die horribly within a year or two at most of radiation
poisoning effects. That’s the reward for his greed.”

Gordo sighed and said Clint should try the
Cajun Popcorn Shrimp the cook from New Orleans prepared for him
every Thursday. They were damned good!

Clint laid back to watch the sunrise from his
deck. Maybe go fishing. Maybe lay around. Maybe go to Isla San
Cristóbal to visit Marko and family.

Vern went by in a boat to Drago. He had his
surfboard. They waved.

It was a beautiful daybreak. The sky to the
east was clear with a fluffy cloud or two overhead and toward the
north. Judi came onto her deck and waved at him. She pointed to her
cel phone. He picked his up and noted there were six missed calls.
He turned it onto ring and laid it on the table. He didn’t
recognize the number and wouldn’t return it until maybe in the
afternoon.

It buzzed almost immediately. He noted it was
the same number, sighed and answered.

“
Clint?
Abel here. I want to hire you to try to get the damned bank to
release our money! They keep promising, ‘Tomorrow. Guaranteed!’ and
nothing happens! I want my money and I want it NOW!”