Falafel Jones - Max Fried 02 - Payback's a Beach (23 page)

Reviewing the DMV website forms revealed New York State allowed people to lease a boat and register it in their own name. I brought up the details on the
Goldenrod
registration and saw that while Michael Kramer held the registration to the
Goldenrod
, the Goldenrod Corporation owned the boat.

The last item on the trail was the Goldenrod Corporation. I visited the New York State Department of State on the web and looked them up. The Division of Corporations reported Drew Fisher as the president and listed an address in Greenport, New York. Google maps revealed Greenport to be a waterfront town on Long Island’s north shore while East End is located on the south shore. Unless Snyder followed Fisher to the boat in Greenport, he never would have found it.

That gave me an idea. I phoned Ed.

“Ed, can you meet me at Bobbi and Jack’s in an hour?”

“Business or pleasure?”

“Business, I need you to draw up a contract between Snyder, Bucky, and me in connection with recovering Bucky’s money.”

“Sure. See you in a bit.”

I called the Dixie Flower Motor Lodge and asked for Snyder’s room. He sounded like I woke him.

“Yeah?”

“Would you be interested in splitting Bucky’s fee with me?”

“No, man. I told you. That’s my gig. You better back off. When I find Bucky’s money, I’m not splitting my fee with anybody.”

“What if I already found the money and all you had to do is recover it?”

“What? You… impossible. Don’t try to scam me.”

“If I told you where you could recover the money and I was right, would you be willing to split or not?”

Snyder went silent.

I waited.

Then he said, “You know where the half a mill is and you’re willing to give me half your finder’s fee? How come? What’s your angle?”

“I don’t want to leave Florida.”

“Hah! Then it is in New York. I knew it.” I could almost see him pumping his fist in victory.

“Even if it is in New York, you don’t know where it is. More important, you don’t know what it is.”

“‘What it is?’ What the hell does that mean?”

“You in or out? There are other New York PIs that would be glad to partner with me on this.”

Snyder paused again and then said, “OK, OK. I’m in but you had better not mess with me. You tell me what and where or else.”

“Good, meet me at Bobbi and Jack’s Patio Bar in an hour.

Next, I phoned Bucky. I told him that if he wanted his money, he’d better come too.

Soon after I arrived for our meeting, I saw Snyder and then Bucky drive up in separate cars. When they saw each other neither bothered to greet the other. Snyder entered the bar first and let the door shut behind him so that Bucky had to open it again to enter. They both stood at the bar with me in between them. Jack materialized and took their drink orders.

Bucky ordered a Gin and Tonic. Snyder didn’t order anything. When Bucky’s drink arrived, I led the two of them to a table on the patio. Snyder looked out on the beach and for the first time, I saw him look pleased.

“Bucky,” I said, “Ed McCarthy is drawing up an agreement for us all to sign. It states that if my information locates your property, you’ll pay me ten percent of the amount recovered as a finder’s fee. Snyder, if you recover Bucky’s property based on my information, I’ll split my fee 50 50 with you.” I looked at each man in turn. “You guys good with that?”

Snyder said, “But if I find it without your info, I get the whole fee.”

I shook my head, “No. My deal with Bucky is exclusive but he only pays me if my information is good. If it’s not, he’s under no obligation to pay either of us. Your deal with Bucky expired. You two want to negotiate a new one, that’s up to you but you can’t make a deal until after you investigate my lead. Understand?”

Snyder didn’t look happy but he nodded his agreement. Bucky looked behind me and I followed his gaze to see Ed arrive.

Ed said, “Sorry if I’m late. Printer problem. He sat and held his hand out to me. “Max, here are the papers.”

I spread them out. Ed offered me a pen, then pointed and said, “Sign here.” He repeated the ritual with Bucky and Snyder and when we all signed, Snyder said, “OK, where is it?”

“Fisher used the half a mill to buy a yacht and open a charter business.”

Snyder said, “No way. I checked his assets and ran a DMV. He doesn’t own any boat.”

“He owns a corporation that owns a boat registered to Mike Kramer. Fisher keeps it docked in Greenport, Long Island.”

“Damn, what’s the name of the boat?”

“
Goldenrod
.”

“Damn, I heard them say goldenrod dozens of times. I thought they meant the thing they put inside that damned fishing net.” Snyder shook his head. He looked amazed and somewhat relieved. I think he believed I was right.

Ed sat back and raised his glass. “Gentlemen, to a successful business endeavor.” Except for Sndyer who was drinkless, we all toasted.

As I drove home, my cell phone rang. My right hand wrestled with my seat belt buckle as I dug in my pocket for the phone. I thought about how difficult it was answering my phone the last time I had it in my right pocket. Then I remembered I had put it in my left pocket to avoid repeating that problem. I switched hands on the steering wheel and easily pulled my phone from my left pocket. I was often smart enough to address my problem but not smart enough to remember my solution.

“Max? Ed.”

“What’s up?”

“I just got a call. Torres picked Brenda up for questioning. Can you meet me at the station? I want you there when they talk to her.”

“Sure. You going to call Sheila?”

“Yes, but my call’s not going to get through.”

“How come?”

“I’m going to hang up before her phone rings. See you there. Bye.”

It only took me about ten minutes to arrive at the police station. I presented myself to the officer behind the bulletproof glass in the lobby and said, “Max Fried. I’m working with Attorney Ed McCarthy.”

The door clicked, buzzed and then I yanked it open. I saw Ed standing in the hall, outside an open door so I joined him.

Ed put his hand on my shoulder. “Max. Glad you came.”

Torres came into the hall from another room. “Ready?”

Ed swallowed and nodded. Torres said, “Fried,” and pointed to the observation room door. I opened it and entered. Torres escorted Ed into the interview room where Brenda already waited.

Ed sat next to Brenda and hugged her. Torres sat across from them, opened a folder, and said, “While you two have been busy avoiding this interview, we’ve been gathering evidence and investigating other suspects.”

Brenda smiled in apparent hope until Torres added, “None of them are as likely as you. We know you were on the boat at the time of death. You claim you were out cold but your urine test was negative for drugs and your clothes were covered in the victim’s blood.”

Ed said, “What about the murder weapon? Did you find her fingerprints on it?”

“Don’t need to. She could have held it in a towel or wore gloves.”

“But what about the unidentified prints on the weapon?”

“What about them?”

“They could be the killer’s.”

“Or they could be anybody’s. Guy in the marina, a fishing buddy, a clerk in the store where he purchased it.”

“What about reasonable doubt?”

“That’s for a jury to decide. The D.A. thinks the case is still good enough to proceed. Brenda had motive and opportunity. Plus the drug test and the blood on her clothes make her testimony lack credibility.”

“What would be her motive?”

“Kramer put the moves on her. She fought back and killed him. Then she covered it up.”

“If you think it’s self-defense, charging her with murder is inappropriate.”

“The D.A. agrees. That’s why there’s an offer on the table. If Brenda wants to confess to killing Kramer, we’ll deal down to involuntary manslaughter.”

Ed sat back and let out his breath. “Manslaughter’s a second degree felony. You’re talking about sending an innocent, young, woman to prison for up to fifteen years.”

Torres said, “Due to the circumstances, the D.A.‘s offering five years jail time. Brenda’s young. She’d be out in time to have a life.”

Ed slammed his palms down on the table, stood up and bellowed at Torres. “Her life would be ruined over something she didn’t do. No.”

Brenda put her hand on Ed’s elbow and looked up at him. “Dad, maybe this is a good offer. I still don’t know what happened that day.”

Ed sat down and took Brenda’s hand in his. “Don’t say anything like that in front of him.” Ed sighed. “In front of anybody.”

Torres stood up and said, “Offer’s good until midnight. In the meantime, Brenda will be here with us.”

Ed stood again but this time, he looked defeated.

Torres took Ed’s arm to usher him out of the room and said, “Go home. Talk to your wife. Either Fitz or I will be here until you decide.”

Ed and I started to leave the building but we never got past a waiting area outside the interrogation room. Ed slumped down onto a chair and covered his face with his hands. After a few moments, he looked up at me and asked, “Max. What am I going to do?”

“I think you need to call Sheila.”

Ed pressed his lips together and nodded. Then he took out his cell phone. His movements were slow and deliberate, like he had aged years in just the last few minutes. Ed made his call and I stepped away to give him some privacy. After he put his phone away, he stood and said. “I need a cigarette.” I followed him outside where we leaned against his car. Ed smoked in silence and I watched the birds flying over the parking lot. I had nothing to say and apparently, neither did he.

As Ed lit his third cigarette from his second, a red, two seat, Mercedes convertible burst into the parking lot and skidded to a stop in the space next to Ed’s car. Sheila jumped out before the vehicle finished rocking from the abrupt stop. She stomped over to Ed, glared at him, and said, “How did you let this happen?”

Ed just looked at her without answering.

She said, “We’re taking that offer.”

Ed shook his head.

Sheila raised her voice. “Yes, we are.”

Ed said, “Sheila.” I felt awkward being so close to their family argument so I moved a few feet away.

Sheila yelled, “Don’t ‘Sheila’ me,” and I realized my distance from them wasn’t going to make any difference.

Sheila stuck her nose in Ed’s face and said, “I’m going in. I’m going to tell Torres, ‘Yes.’”

She turned to enter the precinct and Ed reached out. He grabbed her by the arm.

Sheila spun around, threw her shoulders back, and advanced on Ed until their faces almost touched. “Don’t you ever grab me like that again.”

Ed said, “I can win this case but even if we wanted a deal, we can get a better one than this. Only a fool opens a negotiation with his final offer and the D.A.‘s no fool. We just have to wait until later. We come back to them now and they’ll know they have us.”

Sheila stepped back, let out her breath and shook her head. “You’re the fool. They already have us. I’m going in to settle this before things get worse.”

Ed just stared at her in silence and the two of us watched her walk to the precinct entrance. Before she got there, a young cop exited the precinct and tipped his hat to her. She stopped and watched him approach Ed and me. The cop looked familiar and then I realized he came to get me the last time Torres wanted me present. He still looked like he belonged in High School. He stepped up to Ed and me and removed his uniform hat. “Mr. Fried, Mr. McCarthy.”

Sheila had followed him back to where we stood and when the cop noticed her, he said, “Ma’am.”

We all murmured a greeting. I don’t think any of us knew for sure why the kid cop was here.

“Detective Torres said you might still be here.”

I didn’t know whom he meant by “you,” so I asked, “What can we do for you?”

“Well, sir, I’d appreciate it you’d come with me.”

“Me? Why?”

“Detective Torres will explain when you see him.”

Ed pushed himself off the car and stood in front of the cop close enough that they almost touched chests. “I’m Mr. Fried’s attorney. Is he under arrest?”

“No, sir.”

“Then he’s not going anywhere without an explanation.”

“All I know sir, is that it has something to do with fingerprints found on a murder weapon. I’d really appreciate it if he’d come in. I’m already on the detective’s bad side.”

Ed asked, “Who isn’t?”

The fingerprints piqued my curiosity. “OK, I’ll come.”

Ed said, “I’m going with you. This may be my chance to recover some of the PI fees I’ve been paying you.”

“You mean ‘promised’ to pay me.”

Ed waved his hand in the air. “Whatever.”