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Tom McInnes - Dog Island Part 22

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I looked at him. "Actually, you a.s.sured me that Purcell would leave me and Susan alone."

He held up open palms. "We did all we could to control the situation. Leroy Purcell is... was too ambitious for his own good. I imagine his death was no great loss to anyone."

"No s.h.i.+t."

He paused. "You said there was an attempted ambush. People died."

"We had to kill them to escape."



"Where are the bodies?"

I said, "In a house used by the Bodines on Dog Island. A man named Thomas Bobby Hayc.o.c.k has been living there."

He said, "Do you expect me to clean up your mess? Is that why you are telling me this?"

I said, "Yep."

Sanchez said, "No," and Joey's Glock 9mm appeared. Sanchez said, "Do you plan to kill me also?"

Joey shrugged.

I said, "If I thought you had anything to do with Susan, you'd already be dead. But I don't think you would have come here if you had. So we have to decide how we're going to move forward. Joey and I are working on the a.s.sumption that you and your group are either going to be with us or against us. In other words, we don't see you sitting on the sidelines while we get slaughtered. And if you're not willing to help, that meansa"and I'm just guessing herea"that you will probably try to kill us to keep this mess from getting any messier and to keep the cops out of your business. And Mr. Sanchez, or whoever the h.e.l.l you are, if you're going to try to kill us, well, we have to figure we've got a better chance of staying alive long enough to find Susan if we shoot you right now."

Sanchez let thick, gray smoke drift out through his nostrils. He said, "I could simply lie and kill you later."

"That's true. But I don't think you will. Something's going on with the Bodines, and I think you need to know what it is. Your contact man, Leroy Purcell, just had his guts cut out by someone." I said, "The man had a long list of enemies, but it's too much to believe it's a coincidence that he got killed the same afternoon when someone was busy kidnapping Susan and trying to kill Joey and me. It's all connected somehow. And since you didn't do it, and since Joey and I don't have a frigging clue, it stands to reason that killing us isn't going to solve the problem." I paused, and Sanchez remained quiet. I said, "So, in short, someone's drawing a lot of attention to the Bodines in a way that's bad for you and for us. We don't want to go to jail for defending ourselves on the island, and you don't want your fellow patriots to rot in South America while you try to set up a new operation. And you sure as h.e.l.l don't want to get yourself in the newspaper or on the evening news."

Sanchez looked from me to Joey and back again. He said, "I expected more. That is a weak argument, Seor McInnes." This time, I shrugged. He inhaled deeply from his Montecristo, blew a long, narrow plume of smoke at the ceiling, and said, "If the bodies have not already been discovered, we can take care of the cleanup on Dog Island." My stomach tightened as I heard cleanup used the same disturbing way for a second time that day. "But understand that I am making what I believe is the logical choice under the circ.u.mstances. Please do not fool yourself that you can deal with us through threats." And he rose to leave. As he pa.s.sed Odd Job, he stopped and looked down.

Joey said, "I got 'im," and walked over to drag the unconscious bodyguard outside.

Sanchez turned back to look at me. "You told Charlie Estevez that one of the Bodines you saw today said something about your client seeing Purcell kill a Cuban."

"Nope. He said, as nearly as Joey could remember, that, quote, 'all this mess started over a f.u.c.king Castro getting whacked.'"

Sanchez said, "What else did he say?"

I said, "As far as I know, nothing." I hesitated and said, "There was something else, but it didn't make much sense."

"What was that?"

"This guy, I think it was the one who ended up with a broken neck, tried to bargain with Joey. He said he could tell us about 'the fat spic in the swamp.'" I stood and looked at him. "Does that make any sense to you?"

A.k.a. Carlos Sanchez looked at the floor and shook his head as if giving the question great thought and coming up empty; then he walked out the door.

When Joey came back in, I asked if Sanchez had tried to talk to him in the hallway. He shook his head and said, "You think you talked him out of killing us?"

"I don't know. I think, probably yeah, for the time being."

"It was kind of a weak-a.s.s argument."

"Yeah. Well, you'd be right except for one thing."

Joey looked puzzled.

I said, "Sanchez's front group owns the house on Dog Island where you just left a pile of dead guys. And he's scared to death somebody's going to find out."

chapter twenty-nine.

We headed back to Loutie Blue's house, making sure, we thought, that no one was tailing us. As we came through the front door, Loutie came downstairs, and I heard the back door close a few seconds before young Randy Whittles strode into the room. He said, "We made two in the alley and two on the street."

Loutie nodded. "That's what I saw. There's probably at least one more waiting with their car, wherever that is, but two and two is all I could see."

I asked, "Who are they?"

Randy said, "No way to be sure. But probably the Cubans. They're not doing anything. Just watching the house, and my men are watching them."

Loutie glanced at me and said, "Let's go talk in the kitchen. Tom needs to eat something."

I said, "I'm not hungry," and everyone walked out of the room in the direction of the kitchen and left me sitting alone. My choices seemed to be either to sit in the living room by myself or to go in the kitchen and let Loutie shove food at me.

Randy's take-out feast was spread out across the kitchen table in little white boxes with red paG.o.das printed on the sides and wire handles looped across their tops. I sat at the table, and Loutie put a clean plate in front of me.

I said, "I don't want anything," and she started piling steamed rice on the plate. I said, "d.a.m.n it, Loutie, I told you I don't want this stuff," and she began to spoon Mongolian beef over the rice. I gave up and turned to Randy. "What have you found out about Carli? Do you think she's still on the Gulf somewhere?"

Randy managed to look both embarra.s.sed and a little impotent. He said, "Loutie says we can't talk until you eat something."

I exploded. "This is childish bulls.h.i.+t. Susan may be dead. Carli's missing and G.o.d knows in what kind of trouble." I turned to look at Loutie. "We do not have time for this c.r.a.p."

Loutie said, "Then I guess you better eat something."

I looked at Joey with the intention of reaming him out. But he just grinned and raised his shoulders as if to say, "Whatcha gonna do?" So I picked up a fork and ate a mouthful of lukewarm beef and onions and rice. Loutie smiled and walked to the refrigerator, where she poured a gla.s.s of iced tea and put it down next to my plate.

I said, "You going to burp me when I'm done?"

Loutie looked unfazed. She said, "If you need it," and sat down.

Now that I was actually eating, I was kind of hungry. I chewed while Randy talked. "Carli went from here to a bus stop three blocks east. Around five a.m., she caught a bus to the main terminal downtown and left there for Biloxi at seven-twenty. She got off the bus in Biloxi at their main terminal and was spotted later in the day, just after lunch, hitchhiking about forty miles northeast of there on the road to Meridian." Randy looked down at the table and flexed his jaw. He said, "That's it. That's all we know."

Joey said, "Tom. I don't wanna sound like an insensitive p.r.i.c.k here, but now that Purcell and Rus Poultrez are dead, how much difference does it make that we can't find her? I mean, I know it's bad for any fifteen-year-old to be out running around the countryside by herself, hitchhiking and all, but... h.e.l.l, you know what I mean."

I said, "You're right. At least, you probably are. Some of Purcell's boys may still be out looking for her, but I'm guessing they're more interested in finding who killed their boss. Not to mention jockeying around to see who's going to be the next King of the Jethros."

Randy said, "Don't you think they're gonna blame you for killing Purcell?"

"Probably."

Randy was not a complex personality. He said, "What're you gonna do?"

I stood and raked half the food Loutie had given me into the garbage disposal and put my plate in the sink. My bottle of Dewar's was on the counter. I found a gla.s.s, put some ice in it, and poured some whiskey over the ice. Loutie wrinkled her nose a little, but didn't say anything. I sat down and said, "Randy. I'm going to have to think about that. But right now I'm thinking that we're going to need almost an army to get the Bodines off our backs."

Randy chuckled. "We don't exactly have an army, Tom."

I said, "No. But Carlos Sanchez does."

At 11:47 that night, the hero of New Cuba knocked on Loutie's door. This time, Odd Job had been replaced by the UZI man who had guarded Sanchez in Captain Billy's trophy den in Eastpoint. Now, he seemed to have lost interest in me. Joey's fame had preceded him, and the UZI man made a point of staying close to Sanchez and watching Joey the way a rattler watches a king snake.

I said, "I guess those are your men outside."

Sanchez said, "They are."

"Planning to hurt somebody?"

Sanchez walked over and sat in an upholstered chair. He said, "The matter on Dog Island has been taken care of. The men are buried, and the house has been cleaned and stripped of fabrics."

"Sounds like you've done this before." Sanchez just looked at me and waited. I said, "Thank you."

"You still have problems," he said. "The Bodines do, indeed, believe you killed Purcell."

"They think I slaughtered him like that?"

"The Bodines know about your brother's criminal activities before he died. And I am told that you personally and violently drowned the person responsible for his murder."

I was getting angry. "It was ... not how it sounds."

Sanchez nodded. "I am sure."

He was working me, probing the ragged edges of my guilt to maneuver me into doing somethinga"much the same way I was doing my best to maneuver him by feeding him small bites of information, mixed with out-and-out lies, designed to drive a wedge between his group and the Bodines. I just didn't know yet what he wanted me to do, and it was becoming clear that, whatever it was, he wasn't going to just come out and tell me. I asked, "What do they want?"

Sanchez said, "They claim to want you dead."

"Claim?"

"Well, there is a mana"very young, very ambitiousa"who is not unhappy that Purcell is out of the way. The problem is that he sees killing you as the final step in becoming the new leader of their organization. You see, he feels that avenging the death of their football-hero leader will make him something of a hero to his unwashed brethren."

"Then I guess I better find out who really killed him."

Sanchez looked off into the distance. After a time, he said, "I'm not sure that would make much difference. Your death would be symbolic. This is not a court of law. It's not justice he wants. It is the appearancea"or, I should say, the reputation, if you will, for violence and revenge that is important here."

"So this new wanna-be leader doesn't really care who killed Purcell?"

"No."

"He just wants to be known as the man who took out somebody for doing it?"

"Yes."

I looked over at Joey and asked, "You got anything to say?" Joey had locked eyes with Sanchez's bodyguard, and he didn't speak. He just slowly shook his head. I looked at Sanchez. "I don't think they like each other."

Sanchez smiled. "They are a different sort of man than you and I."

I said, "You think you and I are alike?"

"No. Or I should say, I do not know you well enough to have formed an opinion." He motioned to Joey and his bodyguard. "Except that I suspect we are alike in thata"while we are capable of violence if provokeda"we are not drawn to the sort of primitive, visceral violence that comes so easily to men like these."

Joey said, "You might wanna watch your mouth, Carlos."

Sanchez smiled and continued to look at me. "My people have done enough. I do not wish to adopt you, Seor McInnes. So I would like to know how you are going to handle your problem with the Bodines without going to the authorities."

"I'm a lawyer. You're going to tell me who this new leader is, and I'm going to find out something he wants and make a deal."

Sanchez shook his head.

"You're not going to tell me?"

Sanchez said, "No. At least, not now. There are many people watching or, I should say, looking for you. My group, we are watching. The rest look. And I have no plans to turn you over to anyone. But, Seor McInnes, I quite frankly do not expect you to make it."

I said, "And you're not interested in tying yourself to a dead man."

"No." Sanchez stood and said, "By the way, what has become of your young client?"

"I wish I knew." I asked, "Have they found Rus Poultrez's body?"

"Seor?"

"After the crash the other night off Dog Island. I thought you knew. Rus Poultrez flipped a speedboat over an oyster bed and slammed upside down into the water."

"I knew of the accident, but Poultrez is not dead."

I felt sick. "How do you know that?"

As Sanchez walked toward the door, he said, "We know. You do not need to know how." He turned and looked into my eyes. "Who do you think killed Leroy Purcell?"

I said, "Are you saying that...?"

He answered before I finished the question. "I am saying only that Purcell is dead and Russell Poultrez of Gloucester, Ma.s.sachusetts, is alive. The rest is simply what I think, what I... surmise." And he walked out the door followed by the UZI man.

I looked at Joey. "Do you think Poultrez killed Purcell?"

He said, "Yep."

"Why?"

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