Clint Faraday Mysteries collection A Muddled Murders Collector's Edition (82 page)

“
You know
who she is?”

“
Officially, I ain’t got a clue.”

“
Off the
record?”

Clint grinned and went to the waiting
bus.

Not a bad way for it to turn out after
all!

Footnote

Clint Faraday stood on his deck to watch the
sunrise. It was easily as spectacular as the sunsets on the western
side ( well, actually, southwestern. Panamá didn`t really have any
western side).

He sighed and went inside to get another cup
of coffee, then put on some shorts and went to his boat to clean it
up. He had spent the afternoon and into last night with Bill and
Sharon Bohmfalk, who had sold the bar and were moving to David.
Gisela had sold Bongos, which was now the best Chinese restaurant
on Isla Colón. Things were changing.

The comp dinged, which meant an e-mail. Maybe
this one was something other than an advertisement. You never knew
anymore.

It was from someone called Gene Rigden, who
he´?d met at Bohmfalk´?s a month ago?

“
Mr.
Faraday, I need some advice. Will be in Bocas tomorrow about one
o`clock. Must speak with you.”

There was a footnote (on an e-mail?) that
said, “GMD 2009/04/22". What the hell was that about?

Rigden. George. The skinny one ... OK. He
remembered him, vaguely. He was a skinny 30-something nerd type. He
had talked a lot about a new program that could convert almost any
format to almost any other. There was something ... it could even
decode complicated encryptions by doing some kind of ...
logarythmic fractals?

Clint hadn´t paid a lot of attention to him.
He didn´t know that much about computers – and didn´t want to know.
He shook his head and went back outside to finish the coffee, then
went into town to talk with the regulars at the Golden Grill. It
seemed Bob, a regular there, had moved to David.

Was everyone moving to David? Clint liked
David, but he also liked the water.

Dave came by and waved, said he was on his
way to Panam City, then would stay in Rio Sereno awhile, then to
his new apartment in David, then maybe back to Bocas – or maybe
not.

Cést la vie! Another one to David.

Clint went back home to find another e-mail
from Rigden with the same footnote. Maybe it was some kind of
signature.

“
Mr.
Faraday. Am coming to Bocas today. Must speak with you. I really
stepped in it this time! I mean, REALLY stepped in it!!”

Clint sighed and replied with his phone
number. He said to call when he reached Almirante and he would meet
him at the water taxi. He then went to the China for some
groceries, then home to laze around for an hour or so. He got a
call from Rigden, who said he was in Chiriqui Grande. He was
sending some things on to Changuinola in Clint´s name on the same
bus he was riding. “This is getting really scary! I think someone
is following me! I don´t know what it´s about, except for the ...
but I´ll tell you about it when I´m there. The bus is leaving, so I
have to run.” He hung up.

Clint had noted the caller ID, automatic on
the cellulars here. It was from the pay phone in the restaurante by
the Bombas.

Why the hell would anyone put a written
message on the same bus he was riding? That didn´t make any
sense!

“
Clint?
Sergio here,” came on the line an hour and a half later. “There´s a
dead body on the bus from David with your phone number in his
pocket. Name of George Rigden. Know him?”

“
Body on
the bus? What does that mean?” Clint asked the head of violent
crime.

“
You got
me!”

“
How did
he die?”

“
We don´t
know. It looks like he went to sleep and didn´t wake up. The kid at
the door says he was supposed to get off in Almirante, he looked
like he was asleep. The guy next to him couldn´t wake him up, so he
called the driver, who said he seemed to be dead. He called
Fedrico, who came out and called Doc, who said he´s dead. Know who
he was?”

“
He
called me and said he had something to discuss with me. He called
me from Chiriqui Grande. I think ... he said there was a letter
with the bus driver to me. See if it´s there. Get his luggage or
whatever. Get his computer. It could be important.”

After about three minutes Sergio came on to
say it was there, but there was no luggage, just a medium backpack
with very little in it. No computer. He would bring it to Clint. A
couple of hours.

“
I do NOT
think he went anywhere without that computer!” Clint replied. “See
if you can find it. Someone on that bus will have it – and that
will be whoever´s responsible for ... I have no idea
what.”

Sergio promised to try to find it.

“
Get the
name and address of the person sitting beside him and the ones in
front and back.”

“
Automatic. The one sitting next to him wasn´t the same one
who was there at Chiriqui Grande. That one got off at either Rio
Uyama or Norteño. Just a minute ... he got off carrying a computer.
He wasn´t a Panameño according to the woman in the seat across the
aisle. He might have been Tico or Colombiano. I have a
description.”

“
Shit!”Clint retorted, talked a few seconds, hung up and
went back to the comp and to the e-mails. He wanted to know what
that footnote was about. It was suddenly important – but
how?

“
This is
a hell of a problema!” Silvio Martinez, the cop in charge of
investigating the death, declared – with feeling. “The description
of the man who, somewhat apparently, killed Rigden and took his
computadora could fit possibly ten thousand people here. He had the
nerve to somehow kill the man almost immediately as they left
Chiriqui Grande, si Doctor Nuñez is correcta as to time, and sat
right next to him there for media hora or more, then tranquilly got
up and off the bus. Rigden did not longer have the computer
anymore, but we did find a flash memory USB device in his, believe
it or not, trouser cuff. I think he emplaced it there mas temprano
when he felt something was very not right. Sergio has asked that we
permit you work with us on this, porque you work with them and have
more knowledge of this type of crime than do we. He suggested that
we permit you use the flash drive to try to ganar
information.”

“
I can
hope to find something on the memory stick,” Clint agreed. “I have
a clue or two that he sent in an e-mail. What was in the letter he
gave to the driver for me?”

Silvio
seemed nervous, then said, “Sergio said to not equivocate with you.
We did open it, but there was nothing in the sobre except dos
cientos dollars. Dos Cienes. The slip was just something that was
encoded or that said nothing. I have it in my desk.” He opened a
drawer, picked up a small envelope and handed it to Clint. The note
said
RE:
2009/04/22 General Wong
,
followed by
2009/04/22 Diversified Movers
, followed by
2009/04/22 C and F Company
. Under that was
CPA and BDT.
That was followed by his signature
and
1-2-3-2
+1 Bl/3 5

Clint thought a few seconds, then said, “Did
you examine the money?”

“
Examine?”

“
I think
the money will be counterfeit. That´s why the three balboa bit.
There are no printed balboas. You use the dollar here. There´s a
one and a five dollar bill, but no three. In the states, ‘As a
three dollar bill´? means counterfeit.”

Silvio went to the main desk, requested the
money and returned with it. Clint checked the bills and the series
numbers. They were counter-feit. Very well-done counterfeit. Only
the series numbers gave them away without a thorough testing.

“
Okay,
but what is the meaning?” Silvio asked.

“
THAT is
what I have to find out. Where can I use a computer?” Silvio
pointed to the room behind and said they were not on the net. Clint
didn´t think the net was needed. Yet.

The memory stick had long lists of people,
companies, prices, and places arranged in some weird kind of
timeline scheme. It had probably seemed logical and simple to
Rigden, but he was as much as lost. All he could do was try things.
It would have some connection with the code he had. That was sure
enough – but that was where he couldn´t see an obvious point to
bring anything out.

Okay. The connection with that code was in
that envelope with the bogus money.

Wasn´t it?

Try to find something about ... maybe the
numbers meant ... well, they meant the money was phony ... what
about the 1-2-3-2?

General Wong. So what? Diversified Movers?
How about general diversified ... that´s 1-1. General Movers ...
Company! There was such a company, with offices in Panam City and
Bocas del Toro

He got the money from GMC? – probably. This
was progress. Maybe. He could hope. So the code ... Clint went to
the lists and did a search for the date, then the GMD Code. It
showed ... very little except that there was some kind of package
sent ... not a package, a CD. That was a ... what did the other 2
mean?

He looked at the lists and started a search
for all that started with G. General Movers Diversified? That was
another company. He found the date there and that there was a
contract for a computer process. That was Rigden´s trade.

Okay. He sold a process to GMD on that date
and ... got phony money for it. Why not void the contract and give
the bogus bills to the cops? What kind of process? Why was that
significant?

A program transference ... that was also a
code breaker. This was all in code. That had to be part of the
message.

Clint put all he had found on the computer
under code, gave the memory stick to Silvio, said he was going to
be gone an hour or two, then would come back with an answer or two.
He went to a local internet caf to spend awhile going through all
he could learn about GMD. It seemed to be a company with three men
as partners and seemed legitimate at fist read. Next time a few
discrepancies started to show, such as a lot too much money coming
into the company – but not enough to bring laundering into it very
much, so he checked the other properties of the three partners.
They were, it seemed, into several other companies. They were
hanging around the fringes of the big time.

So? What did that have to do ... could the
big boys be interested in anything they had?

Something that would decode scrambled things
from interpol and the DEA, I reckon!

Why kill Rigden? He invented the process.

Because he would never allow it to be used in
such a manner. Getting in with the big boys in Colombia and points
south was getting in with, quite literally, billions.

So! Which one, though it was a conspiracy and
all of them would fall. All finding the actual killer will do is
prove the case against the three as a unit. Clint studied records
and such for about another half hour and left the café with
pictures from the net.

“
Esta
positivo este es el hombre in el autobus de Chiriqui Grande?”(“Are
you positive this is the man on the bus from Chiriqui Grande?”)
Clint asked the door boy from the trip where Rigden
died.

“
Si!
Positivo!” (“Yes! Positive!”) Raul Esposito replied, Maria Santos,
a woman who spoke to the subject in Chiriqui Grande at the
restaurante was nodding in agreement.

“
Mil
gracias por sus testimonios,” (“A thousand thanks for your
testimony,”) he replied, then had them make sworn statements. He
then came back out of the room where the secretary was making the
denunciado and used the radio to call Panamá City to demand the
arrests of Arturo Valdez Santiago, Manual Guerra Smith, and
Raymondo Guerra Smith on a charge of murder. He signed off and
turned to Clint. “Well, that was rapid enough! I hope you are to be
disponible in futura if we need your assistance?”

“
Why
not?” Clint replied.

Doormat

Clint Faraday looked across the wide beach as
the sun set to his left just out from the shoreline into the
Pacific, shook his head, and went in to have his breakfast,
hojaldras and coffee with a generous helping of bolitas. It would
be another beautiful day. He would go back to David later, then on
to Bocas del Toro to his home. He had gone through about six months
of little action and felt he rather enjoyed lazing around doing
very little of anything. This was a good spot for a few days at the
time, but a month was too much. There wasn’t much to do here, which
tended to grow stale. He had to do something even if it was only to
go diving or tramping through the rain forest or whatever. Maybe
he’d stop for a day or two with Indio friends in the mountains
around Calderas – or something.

He went back inside to put on some clothes
and pack his backpack for the trip, then walked the four kilometers
to the little almacen at the end of the road that served the local
natives, most of whom greeted him warmly when he passed. The bus
was just arriving as he walked into the place at 8:10 AM. He talked
with a few people, then got on the bus for the ride to David. He
decided to spend the night in David and go to Bocas in the morning.
Bill and Sharon Bohmfalk were in town and a man named Peter had
taken over the bar and restaurant at the Hotel Iris. He was from
Canada. They had a get-together until about 11:30, when the bar
closed. Clint caught up on the latest about everyone there, spent
the night at the Pensión Costa Rica and caught the 8:00 bus for
Bocas.