Life's a Beach Then You Die Read online

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A little after Torres left, Ed arrived. I got into his car and asked him for the list of Ray’s effects. Ed pulled his cigarettes from his shirt pocket and then removed a piece of paper from inside the pack. He looked at the paper and said, “Oh, crap. I left it on my desk. You want to go back and get it?”

  “Nah, it’ll be the same list in an hour as it is now. I want to check out this boat. Somebody got to Ray’s house before we did. I don’t want that to happen again. If there is something on the boat, I don’t want to be beat to it.”

  Ed said, “Same here,” and put the paper back along with his cigarettes.

  We drove to an industrial park on the mainland, near the airport. Ed parked near a group of three identical buildings with the EFH logo on the side.

  We got out of the car, walked towards the middle one and Ed said, “Zorky had a great gift for making money. Do you know how little this property cost twenty five years ago and how much it’s worth now?”

  “No.” I said.

  “I’m not going to tell you. It would only make you cry.”

  The door handle had a keypad on it, the kind with numbered pushbuttons in addition to a knob with a keyhole. I guessed you could use either one to unlock the door. Ed pulled his cigarettes out of his shirt pocket again and then fished out what looked like the same piece of paper he had before. He pressed a few numbers on the lock and then opened the door. He had to lean on the door to make it move. We went inside and I noticed a stale, musty smell.

  When Ed turned on the lights, I saw the building was one huge room with a wood and metal frame in the middle. The Leviathan sat on the frame and filled the building. It reached to within a few feet of the roof and the bow and stern practically touched the front and rear walls. I had no idea how they ever got the boat inside.

  Ed sighed. “Haven’t seen this in about twenty years. Just after Zorky died. Guess how they got it inside?”

  “No clue.”

  “Had to take down the back wall, push the boat in and then put the wall back up.”

  “Must be nice to have money.”

  “Oh, yeah. C’mon. Let’s board.”

  Ed walked over to a ladder affixed to the boat. The Leviathan may have looked big on the water, but close up, inside a confined space like this, it looked colossal. As we climbed, I saw a thick layer of grime on the steps and other horizontal surfaces. My hands turned black from the dirt on the rungs. So did my pants knees as I brushed against the ladder on the way up. The stillness, the quiet and the dust made me uneasy. I felt like I invaded a tomb. As we disturbed the dust, Ed started to cough and I sneezed.

  On board, Ed fumbled around for something. Then I heard a click and the boat lit up. Ed said, “They’ve got the boat electricity plugged into the warehouse power.”

  I looked around the Leviathan and realized I had no idea where to start my search. Ed said, “Looks just like it did when Zorky died,” opened a door and climbed down some stairs. I followed and we entered a narrow hallway below decks. There were five doors. Yellow tape that read “POLICE LINE – DO NOT CROSS” covered the three on the left.

  Ed gestured to the far end, “That door leads to the galley and the head.” Then he pointed to the three doors on his left and then the one on his right. “These three are crew quarters. That one is… was Zorky’s. Let’s see what there is to see.”

  He approached the first door on his left, sliced the tape with his car key and we went inside. The room was small with a built-in bed and a tiny closet. A monogrammed, olive drab canvas duffel bag sat on the closet floor. I moved closer and read aloud the faded stenciled letters, “RK”.

  Ed said, “Ray Kenwood.” We left the room; shut the door and Ed pulled loose the tape from the next door to the left.

  I opened the door and this room looked just like the other one. Some clothes hung in the closet and I found an empty, unmarked duffel bag folded on the shelf next to a toilet kit. I took the kit down and opened it. There was a prescription bottle inside. The label said it was penicillin prescribed for Benjamin Horton. I said, “Ben Horton,” shut the door and we started for the last room on the left. When I reached for the door, I saw there were already slits in the tape covering the opening. I turned the knob and we stepped inside.

  This third room was identical to the other two in size, shape and style. The only difference was that this room was empty. Ed said, “This would have been the Skipper’s room.”

  I asked him, “So, where’s his stuff? Corky told me that when the Police came, he escaped and never came back.”

  Ed shrugged, “Maybe he came back after all?”

  I opened the next door and as Ed described, it led to a galley and the ship’s bathroom. We looked inside and saw nothing of interest, only cooking utensils and outdated canned goods. We exited back into the hall. Ed took a deep breath and opened the fifth door. “Zorky’s suite. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

  Zorky’s quarters were as luxurious as the others were Spartan. They contained a queen size bed, a desk built into the wall and a private head with a toilet, sink and shower. He even had a tiny galley and a small table for dining with a view out a porthole.

  Ed sat down at the desk and started opening drawers. When he did, I noticed an old bag style cell phone. I picked it up to look at it. “Wow, I haven’t seen one of these things in ages.”

  Ed pulled a few folders from one drawer, looked up and said, “What? Oh, yeah. Zorky loved gadgets. He was the first person I knew that had a cell phone. It weighed ten pounds, but it still made calls.” He looked back down at the files in his hand and said, “This is odd.”

  “What’s odd?”

  “Zorky had files here on Ray Kenwood and Ben Horton. Employment applications, passport photocopies, social security tax information. You know, personnel type records, but there’s no file here for anybody else. No Skipper.”

  “That is strange. Unless… wait, Corky told me the Police showed her a photo of the Skipper and asked for him by a name she never heard him use. What if he established a new identity and wanted to protect it?

  “What do you mean?”

  “How about this? The Skipper is on the run so he changes his name and gets some fake ID to match. Zorky hires the Skipper, knows his current name, address, even his social security account number. Then, Police come to arrest whatever his name was AKA the Skipper for murder. The Skipper escapes and the only one who knows his current identity is Zorky and the only records are on this boat. Maybe he came back to get them?”

  “Well, that could explain the broken tape, the empty cabin and the missing files.”

  “You have any other explanation?”

  “No.”

  I put Zorky’s ancient bag phone back on the desk and when I did, I remembered something I read in Zorky’s obituary.

  “Ed, how did Zorky die?”

  “He had a heart attack. Couldn’t get to help in time.”

  “Did he phone for help?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? He had this cell phone.”

  “Gee. I don’t know.”

  I took a closer look at the phone and saw a break in the wire that connected the antenna. It looked like someone cut it. Maybe Zorky didn’t call because his phone was broken. “Ed, what about radio? Doesn’t a boat this size have a two-way marine radio?”

  “Sure, up on deck.”

  We went up the stairs to the cabin or wheelhouse or whatever sailors called the place where the steering takes place. Ed showed me the radio and when I examined it, I found the antenna wire for the radio cut too. I showed Ed the break in the wire and said, “Zorky couldn’t call for help. Somebody cut his antenna cables. Neither the cell phone nor the two-way would work. Somebody wanted him dead and they wanted it to look natural.”

  “Shit. Ray and Zorky both died of heart attacks. Geez, these things are so common, I never thought about it but maybe Kathleen was right. Maybe Ray didn’t die of natural causes. Ma
ybe Zorky didn’t either.”

  “We better call Torres.”