Key Lime Blues (22 page)

Although I was prepared to play on Elvis’s fears to persuade him to tell me the truth, I was also willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I no longer believed anything Destiny told me, but I wanted to make it damn hard for Elvis to lie to me.

There was a small bar across the street and kitty-corner from Elvis’s house called Parrot Island. It was hokey even by Key West standards. The waiters wore pirate outfits, complete with eye patches and stuffed parrots attached to the shoulder of their jackets. I took a seat outside and watched while a whole lot of nothing happened. After what seemed like a long wait, a waiter scooted out of the door and stopped in front of me. He was chatty, couldn’t take his eyes off me, and touched my arm several times while he took my order. When I ignored his overtures, he left with a scowl.

By five o’clock I’d finished two bottles of Miller
Lite
and was about to head over to pay Elvis a visit when Destiny came strolling by. She wore a short white dress, but there was nothing virginal about the way she swung her hips when she walked. Even my gay waiter stopped what he was doing and watched her walk by. She paused almost in front of me, crossed the street without looking in my direction, and ran up the stairs to Elvis’s house. I couldn’t believe my luck.

I ordered another beer, but decided not to drink it while I waited. Three beers in one afternoon was way over my limit. I was having a hard time sitting still and hoped there wasn’t a rear entrance to Elvis’s place. I didn’t want to lose her now. An hour later Destiny came out onto the porch and then ran down the steps.

I laid a twenty on the table, and when Destiny strolled by I stood and followed her. If for any reason I later decided Elvis was involved, I always knew where to find him. Right now I wanted to know where Destiny was staying.

Destiny turned west onto Duval, unaware she was being followed. She seemed unconcerned about the time, wandering along the street in a carefree manner.

I crossed Duval, weaving between the traffic, and walked opposite her, using the crowd as a shield.

Destiny stopped at a clothing store and looked at several sundresses before she meandered along without buying anything. She stopped a block further on and bought an ice cream cone, then crossed the street and headed back in my direction. I ducked into a tee-shirt shop and pretended to examine the merchandise until she passed by. She didn’t look my way and didn’t appear to have a destination. I suspected she might be killing time, and I was curious as to why.

A half hour later we wandered into Mallory square. To the west, the cruise ship that had docked earlier dominated the skyline and hundreds of tourists milled about waiting for the coming sunset celebration. This was a unique Key West affair. Every night throughout the year residents, tourists, and various street performers gathered to pay homage to the end of the day. That night the crowd was large, which made keeping an eye on Destiny a little harder.

Destiny pushed her way into a group of people watching an acrobat. The man was in his late forties, wore his red hair in an out of date Mohawk cut, and was dressed in pink and purple tights. He was too old for the look, but entertaining enough to distract me. I came close to losing her.

When the sun was almost down and the sky filled with red and purple hues, she started drifting back toward Duval. Along the way the hordes of people began to thin and I was forced to pull back further and further from Destiny to keep her from spotting me.

By the time she turned off of Duval it was dark, but I didn’t dare get any closer. A few minutes later Destiny turned into the yard of a small duplex and headed toward the porch.

When Destiny started up the steps I ducked behind a pickup truck parked along the street and waited. I watched her take a key from her purse and insert it into the lock. When she pushed the door open I bolted out from behind the truck and took the steps in two leaps.

Destiny heard me and spun around, squealing when recognition set in. She slipped back into the house and tried to slam the door shut in my face. I brushed it aside with my shoulder and grabbed her wrist.

“Get the hell out of here.” Destiny kicked out and caught my leg with her foot.

“No, it’s okay. Why don’t you stick around for awhile Wes,” a voice called out from across the room as I rushed through the door chasing Destiny. “This way, I don’t have to send Willie back out looking for you.”

Destiny’s eyes turned cold, and she spun away from me. “I didn’t know he was following me, Frankie.” There was a hint of fear in her voice. “I would have called you if I’d seen him.”

I groaned, scanned the room, and considered my odds. I recognized Frankie from a picture I’d seen in one of the newspaper articles I’d read about him on the internet. He was seated on one of four wood chairs set out around a small colonial style table. He had swung his chair around enough to face the door.

Frankie had a thin cigar hanging from his lips. He was in his late sixties, and I fought to hold back a laugh when I saw the yellow shorts and pink flowered shirt he was wearing. They seemed a bit much, even by Key West standards.

Willie was seated across from him. He reached behind his back and drew out a revolver when he saw me.

“It’s okay hon.” Frankie stood and looked me up and down. “Me and Willie have been looking for Wes all day. Hell, I was beginning to think he’d been avoiding us. You
ain’t
been avoiding us, have you Wes?”

He took a step in my direction, and I started to back out of the open door. Frankie snapped his fingers, and Willie raised the gun and cocked the hammer.

“Close the door, Wes,” Frankie said.

“You aren’t going to shoot me, Frankie. The neighbors will hear.”

“What do you think, Willie? Do you care about the neighbors? I know I don’t give a fuck about no neighbors.”

“Not me, Frankie.” Willie cast a wicked grin in my direction. “You want me to kill him, or just wing him?”

The tone of Willie’s voice sent a chill up my spine. I realized that he would just as soon kill me as not. I considered my options and pushed the door closed behind me.

“What do you want with me, Frankie?”

He crossed the room, sat down on a sun-faded sofa, and put his feet on the table in front of him. “Now that’s a dumb question.” Frankie gave an exaggerated sigh. “I want my diamonds. Willie here, that’s another story. He wants to talk to you about who killed his brother.”

“It wasn’t me,” I said.

Frankie took a deep draw off his cigar, let out a cloud of smoke, and leaning forward he stubbed it out on the corner of the table.

“Frankie.” Destiny ran over and took the cigar butt from his fingers. “That was my mother’s table.”

Frankie threw her a look that sent her scurrying away.

“We don’t know you didn’t kill Bob, do we?” he said. “You left with him. He died, you didn’t. Even if I believe you it doesn’t tell me what I really want to know.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Where are my fucking diamonds?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” I said. “Destiny has them.”

“That true, Destiny?”

“No, Frankie, he’s lying.” She looked at me, winked, and moved over next to Frankie. “The night when he beat up Bob outside of Alvin’s, he made me go with him and get the diamonds. I tried to tell him we needed to give them back to you. He wouldn’t listen.”

I groaned. This was not going well at all. I knew that if I were Frankie, I’d lean toward believing the tall redhead too. This lady was in the wrong line of work. She would have made a hell of an actress.

“She’s lying, Frankie,” I said.

He gave Destiny a wolfish grin. Reaching out, he began to stroke the side of her face. When she tried to move away he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her face close to his.

“Are you lying to me Destiny?”

“No Frankie, I swear.” She started to cry. I suspected they were faux sobs.

He shook her head and this time her cries were real. “If you’re lying to me, Destiny, I’m going to have Willie cut off your
titties
and make you eat them. Do you understand?”

“I do, Frankie. I swear I’m telling the truth.”

“The truth is good,” Frankie said. He gave Destiny’s head one more shake and released her hair. He gave her
ass
a gentle swipe, laughed, and turned his attention back to me.

“Willie, search him.”

“Look Frankie, I told you I don’t have them.”

He jumped up and pointed a finger at me. “Well someone’s lying to me. I’ll leave it to your imagination to figure out what I’m gonna do if it’s you. Now turn around and face the wall.”

“Look I…”

“Shut up,” Willie said. He came lumbering across the floor and stopped in front of me. “Frankie said turn around.” He poked the barrel of his gun into my chest. “Now.”

I didn’t have a choice. I turned to face the wall.

“Put your hands against the wall and spread ‘em.”

I followed his instructions and stood there while Willie frisked me. When he finished he grabbed my arm, spun me around, and poked the pistol into my stomach hard enough to play havoc with my lunch.

“Where
ya
hiding Frankie’s diamonds?”

“I told you I don’t have them.”

“Can I shoot him, Frankie?” Willie seemed way too excited when he asked the question.

“Not yet, Willie.” Frankie turned and pointed to a chair at the end of the table. “Tie him up. Destiny, go find Willie some clothesline.”

While Destiny ran off to get the rope, Willie jabbed me several more times in the gut. Using the pressure of the revolver he guided me over to the table. By the time he shoved me into the chair, Destiny had returned with the rope and a knife to cut it.

Willie tied my hands and feet while Frankie sat down to my right. He pointed to the chair across from me and told Destiny to sit down. She ran to the couch, picked up her purse, and when she was situated, she took out a nail file and began filing her nails.

Frankie watched until she sat down, then he seemed to lose interest in me. He picked up a deck of cards from the table and dealt out a hand of solitaire. Willie pulled out a handkerchief and began to wipe down his gun while I began to question my sanity. Either I’d just stepped through the looking glass into the 1940’s, or I was seated at a table with a bunch of
wackos
.

While I watched, Frankie counted out three cards, placing one back on the bottom of the deck when he didn’t like what he saw. “Why play the game if you’re going to cheat?” I asked.

“I wasn’t cheating, smart ass.” Frankie flipped the rest of the deck onto the table and looked at me. “Where are my diamonds, Wes?”

Since I’d already answered the question and he didn’t want to hear what I had to say, I changed the subject. “I’m thirsty,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as frightened as I felt.

“I’m not an unreasonable guy,” Frankie said. He glanced over to where Destiny was sitting. “Go get the man a glass of water.”

“Frankie, I’m doing my nails.”

He slammed his fist on the table. “I said get him a glass of water.”

“Sure, Frankie.” Destiny jumped up and darted from the room.

“How the hell did you let her get away with the diamonds in the first place?” I asked.

Using his left thumbnail, Frankie began to pick beneath the nails of his right hand. I thought he was ignoring my question, but then he glanced back up at me. His forehead was furled and his eyes had a dreamy look to them.

“I’m getting old,” he said. “Hell, I’ll be eligible for social security in a couple of months.” He shrugged and went on.

“You know what they say about an old fool. I wanted to believe she was in love with me. One day, to impress her, I took the stones out of my safe and spread them out on the dresser. I let her hold them and she squealed in delight. Those diamonds made her hotter than hell. We had the best sex I’ve had in twenty years.”

“But how’d she get away with the diamonds?” I asked again.

Frankie’s eyes hardened. “She asked me to leave the diamonds out while we made love. I did what she asked. After the sex I drank a little too much wine. When I woke up the next morning the diamonds and Destiny were both gone.”

Destiny returned and set the glass on the table in front of me. “I told you I was sorry, Frankie. If Wes hadn’t taken them away from me I’d a given them back. I swear I would, Frankie.”

“Here’s your water.” Frankie stood and picked up the glass. He held it up to my mouth, tilted it, and I took a sip. Then he tilted it a little more, pushing my head back at the same time. Finally, he tipped it all the way up, pouring the water across my face, down my shirt and into my lap.

When the glass was empty he tapped the base against my forehead, softly at first, then with more force. About the time I thought he was going to slam it into my face, he pulled his arm back and threw the glass across the room where it shattered against the front door.

“I want my fucking diamonds.”

“Sorry Frankie. I don’t have them.”

“Damn it all,” he said.

Frankie’s face turned red, his lower lip trembled, and he was breathing hard. I was sure he was going to kill me. Instead, he slammed his fist on the table and kicked out at his chair. It flew over backwards, and he began pacing along the length of the table. When he stopped in front of me, he drew back his arm and backhanded me across the face.