Falafel Jones - Max Fried 02 - Payback's a Beach (21 page)

“Go away.”

“No.”

“Go on. Get out of here.”

“Or what? You’ll call the police? Tell you what. You wait there. I’ll call them for you. They charge an arm and a leg for local calls at this motel.”

“Wait.”

I heard a shuffling sound and then the door opened a crack. The security chain was still attached. “What?” he asked. “What do you want?”

“Answers. Open the door.”

“You gonna hit me?”

“No.”

“Shoot me?”

“No.”

He paused and looked me up and down as if that would reveal my true intent. After a moment, he said, “Okay.”

The door closed and then opened. Snyder sat down on one of two single beds. He stuck his right hand in a cardboard ice bucket labeled “Courtesy Cooler” and his index finger looked purple. I said, “If that’s broken, you should see a doctor.”

Snyder said, “I was afraid to go. Thought the police would be waiting for me.”

“Don’t sweat it. I didn’t call.”

He brightened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, you know, lost my temper.” He looked at my forehead and with his good hand pulled a piece of ice from his bucket. “You want some for the lump?”

“No thanks but I’d like some information.”

“Yeah. Sure. Whaddya want to know?”

“Tell me about Bucky, Drew and the money.”

Snyder nodded, “OK, Maddie convinced Bucky to invest a half a mill with Fisher. Then Drew blew Maddie off. She got mad and got Bucky to withdraw his investment, but Fisher didn’t have the money.”

“What hold does Maddie have on Bucky.”

Snyder laughed. “You kidding? Have you seen her? Seen him

“But what about Drew? Wouldn’t Bucky want him out of the picture?”

“Nah, he didn’t care. Geez, he didn’t want to marry Maddie. He just wanted to have some fun and Maddie didn’t let her relationship with any one guy interfere with that.”

“OK, so tell me about the money.”

“That’s my gig, man. I can’t tell you about it. I’ve got too much invested in it.” He looked down at the floor. “That’s why I lost it and hit you. I’m broke. I sunk a lot of money into finding that gold. Then Bucky just blows me off and hires you. I should have seen that coming. Now, I don’t know if I’ll even have enough money to pay my license renewal fees.”

I felt bad for Snyder. He was seduced by money and got in over his head but that only gave him a motive for killing Captain Mike. Add Snyder’s temper and he looked good for the killing. I moved him to the top of my list but then I remembered the fingerprints on the fishing net.

Since he was a New York PI, Snyder’s prints were already in the system. If the prints on the murder weapon were his, Torres would have had a hit. I was about to rule out Snyder as the killer. Then I remembered the box of latex gloves I kept in my closet and realized Snyder might have a box too. He went back into my suspect pool and I asked him, “When did you get to New Smyrna Beach?”

“Saturday morning. I drove straight down from New York.”

I wasn’t sure I could believe him but as I got up to leave, Snyder looked so beaten and dejected, I felt I had to give him something. I said, “I searched the
Amante
with an XRF analyzer. I have news for you. I didn’t find any gold. There isn’t any.”

Snyder looked surprised. “Sure, there is. I followed Fisher. I heard him talking a lot about a golden rod. Then one day, he went to his bank and visited his safe deposit box. From there, he drove to a store where he bought a graphite crucible, tongs, and an acetylene torch. After that, he visited one of those gold shops, went back to the yacht club, and locked himself up on his boat. The next day, this other guy arrived, Fisher left and then the
Amante
departed for Florida. If the golden rod’s not on the boat, somebody moved it.”

I left without saying anything else. I knew that once someone became a true believer, they never let facts get in the way.

Somebody killed Cappy on Friday night and pinned it on Brenda. It was going to be tough solving Cappy’s murder without knowing more about him but I believed his killing had to connect to Drew Fisher and the New York crowd. Until I could learn more about Cappy, I threw all the New Yorkers into the pool.

I was already at Snyder’s motel so I decided to start with him by determining when he actually arrived in Florida. He told me he didn’t get to town until the Saturday morning after the killing and I needed to confirm that. I knew the motel records would show when Snyder checked in but I didn’t expect the desk clerk would simply tell me what I wanted to know.

I needed a plan and after some thought, came up with one. I wouldn’t ask for the information. I’d simply tell the clerk I was there to settle the bill for Snyder’s room. Snyder looked broke enough to skip out without paying, so I didn’t expect any argument from the clerk. Ed could afford it and the receipt would tell me all I needed to know.

I entered the office at the Dixie Flower Motel. A bell hanging from the door announced my presence but no one showed up to greet me. I waited quietly for a minute or two and when nobody came to the worn Formica counter, I called out. “Hello?”

No one answered so I leaned over the counter to look through the doorway behind it. All I saw was an old kitchen table cluttered with a newspaper and a coffee cup. I called out again. As I waited for someone to appear, I noticed the computer on the other side of the counter. If no one was around, I could probably find out on my own the date Snyder checked in. If he checked in after the murder, it didn’t necessarily mean he was in the clear. He could have stayed somewhere else in town before checking in. On the other hand, if he lied about checking in on Saturday, he’d move up on the suspect list.

Just as I stepped behind the counter to access the computer, a man came through the office door from the parking lot and said, “Hi, I’d like a room please.”

I had no idea how the motel’s reservation program operated. I could probably figure it out if I took time to play with it, but delaying the guest while I did would probably give me away as an impostor. I wondered if the penal code included a specific charge for impersonating a desk clerk and decided to gamble that it didn’t.

I shook my head. “Sorry, we’re fully booked.”

The guy pointed to the sign in the window that read “Vacancies” and said, “Besides, I have a reservation.”

I stepped in front of the computer. “Didn’t get a chance to change the sign yet. Name?”

“Lewis. L-E-W-I-S.”

“How many nights?”

“One.”

The computer displayed a text box labeled “Guest name.” I suspected completing this field might lead me to Snyder’s check in information but didn’t know if I could get to the reservations screen from here. I didn’t want to select a different menu option for fear I’d be unable to get back to this screen. So, instead of “Lewis,” I typed “Snyder” into the box and hit the enter key.

I got lucky and Snyder’s reservation came up. I clicked “print,” and took a key from the rack behind the counter. As I handed the man a key labeled “3”, I heard a noise through the wall behind me followed by the sound of a toilet flushing. My time was running out. I grabbed the print out, said, “Need more toner,” and left the office. Behind me, I heard a new voice say, “Welcome to the Dixie Flower. Do you have a reservation?”

I ran to my car, locked myself in, and drove around the corner to look at Snyder’s motel record. He lied to me about not getting into town until Saturday morning. He checked in Thursday at noon. I had enough of this guy lying to me and I was pissed. I put the car in drive and pulled up in front of Snyder’s unit. I didn’t see the motel clerk or my customer so I exited the car and pounded my closed fist on Snyder’s door.

“Who is it?”

“Max Fried. Open up. Now.”

I heard some noises from inside the unit and then the sound of latches being thrown open.

I opened the door and pushed my way inside. Snyder stepped back in surprise and fell back onto one of the two beds. “What? What’s happening?”

I leaned over him and slapped his face with the print out. “You lied to me. I don’t like it and I’m not going to put up with it. You checked in on Thursday.”

Snyder scooted back on the bed to get away from me. He rolled off the other side and stood up. “I knew this would happen.”

“What would happen?”

“I’d be in trouble either way. I knew this would bite me on the butt.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Snyder sat down on the bed furthest from me and held up his hands with his palms facing out. “I’ve been here before. New Smyrna Beach. About a year or so ago. On vacation with some buddies.”

I looked at Snyder in disbelief and he said, “Yes, I do have buddies. Well, at least a couple of guys I’d hang with from time to time.”

I rolled my eyes and he continued. “We went out one day to Stevie’s Sky Lounge and I met this woman. She was a lot of fun. Kept us entertained at the bar for hours. She said she was a regular there and next time I was in town to come back to the lounge.” He shrugged. “So I did.”

“OK. What’s her name?”

“I didn’t want to say.”

I said, “Why not? Can’t she verify you were there?”

Snyder looked down and shook his head. “Sure. I spent Friday night drinking and flirting with her at the bar. I wanted to take her back here but she told me she was trying to work things out with her ex. We never got past chatting.”

“So? What’s the big deal? She can alibi you.”

Snyder looked me in the eye for what I think may have been the first time he did so since I met him. “I didn’t want to tell you about her because it’ll make trouble.”

“What do you mean trouble? Who is she?”

“Sheila McCarthy.”

I drove home, changed into my swim trunks, grabbed a towel from the closet, and went out back to the pool. Mariel looked up from her lounge chair and removed her headphones. “Any luck?”

I tossed my towel onto the empty chaise. “No.”

She grinned at me. “So you’re throwing in the towel?”

I smiled at her attempt to cheer me up. “Boy that was bad.”

“Yeah, but it worked. You’re smiling.”

“But it was really bad.”

“I know. It was something you would have said.”

I nodded because she was right.

Mariel propped herself up on an elbow. “So, what do you have?”

“Well, it turns out Snyder’s been in town since before the murder. Said he saw Fisher bring gold and melting gear onto the boat in New York. Then Fisher left the boat and this guy Cappy got on.”

“So Snyder caught up with the boat in New Smyrna Beach and killed Cappy in an attempt to steal some gold?”

“Could be. Snyder seems desperate enough.”

“OK, so that’s one. Who else you got?”

“Well, there’s Brenda. She went out on a date with Cappy. It could have gone bad. I don’t really know what kind of guy he was.”

“I hate to include her but I think you have to. So, she’s two. Three?”

“Three? Maybe Bucky? He’s got a half a mill at stake.”

“I can’t see Bucky boarding the boat and killing someone.”

“Me neither, but he could have hired someone. Maybe Snyder?”

“If he did, then Snyder should have some money. Does he?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Also, what would be his motive? He’s not seeking revenge. He just wants his money.”

I had to side with Mariel. Bucky didn’t seem a likely suspect so I nodded my agreement.

Mariel sat up on the lounge chair. “You think Maddie could have done it?”

“She and Cappy were friendly. She didn’t seem to know he was in town. I’m inclined to exclude her from the list.”

“So, Snyder and Brenda? That’s it?”

“No, there’s also Drew Fisher.”

“Of course. He’s the one in debt and he set the whole thing in motion.”

“Yeah. They dismissed it at the time but the police did find Drew Fisher’s fingerprints on the net. Maybe he tried to fake his own death and failed or maybe he sacrificed Cappy knowing someone would try to steal the gold Snyder saw.”

“OK. He’s number three.”

“I’ve already talked to Brenda and Snyder. I think it’s time to go see Fisher.”

Mariel stood up. “I’ll get dressed.”

“No. As much as I like to be with you, I think I better meet him on my own.”

“Will you tell me what happens?”

“Sure.”

“OK.” Mariel kissed me on the cheek, sat on the lounge chair and put on her headphones. I changed back into my cargo shorts and left the house to find some facts.

I drove back to the Coast Guard station to confront Fisher. He was no longer on the
Amante
, but Senior Chief Forest had a local address for him at the Boathouse Bed and Breakfast. This was a new B and B with a dock in an old mansion on the mainland side of the Intracoastal Waterway. I guessed Fisher wanted to avoid Bucky who was still at the Coronado Yacht Club. I drove down Riverside Drive and parked in the circular driveway. Like all of the houses on this street, Riverside Drive separated the buildings from the docks on the river.