Clint Faraday Collection C: Murder in Motion Collector's Edition Read online

  Back to #3. The stuff was left by three wholesalers from Panamá City and Colon.

  #4 was most likely. Leave whatever for a few days so there wouldn’t be apparent connection. Clint wanted to know what was really in those boxes. It wasn’t household items!

  He waited around until lunch break and talked to the loader operators. They didn’t remember anything about Taylor. It was just “Load pallets in section four B” on the Taylor truck.

  Clint thought, then went to where the dispatch director was eating. He was about twenty and said his name was Luis. He just checked off the stuff as it was loaded or unloaded.

  “You note which trucks delivered and which ones picked up?” he asked.

  “Sure. Takes a genius! I need the work until I find a decent job, though it pays well enough. I can’t gripe.”

  “Could I see the records from eight days ago?”

  “With a legal order or if you’re a cop or something.”

  “I’m police. National. Check with Panamá City or with Bocas Town.”

  “Good enough for me. I’ll be back in about forty five minutes.”

  Clint thanked him and had a fair meal, then walked around for a few minutes before he went back to the terminal. Luis dug through some files and handed him a sheet before going out to check a load going out. He could find whatever he needed in the files.

  The stuff came from some local furniture manufacturers. There were seventy nine boxes, each with a code number. On the third.

  Clint sat back. He looked at the manifests for Taylor (Luis said they were in the files. Look at whatever you want, but don’t take anything) trucks loaded in the past four days. Just one. Eighty four boxes. What? Five boxes appeared through teleportation?

  He looked at the loading manifest and noticed an asterisk with a notation that the boxes were added seven days before.

  Clint checked the manifests for Taylor loads on that date. Five boxes from Tole. Carried in by an independent carrier called L&L&L&L Cargo.

  That would be it. He went to the registro and used the computers to check out L&L&L&L. Four brothers and sisters who sometimes carried a load locally.

  Clint had noted something else about the loading manifest. The asterisk was in the middle, not at either end.

  Why? So it would be buried in the middle of the load? There was an access door near the front and the loading one in the rear. This would put the boxes where no one could reach them easily. They would have to unload a lot of things to find them.

  Veddy interesdink. This was what it was about – but what was that?

  Clint was headed back to the pension when his phone buzzed. He answered. It was Sergio. The man stopped when he was following the trio was dead. He had his throat cut in Changuinola.

  “Where was ... but I thought ... where was Nando Selamas?”

  “Nando Selamas? Who is he – and why would I know?”

  “Sorry. It’s just a name that may or may not be connected. I’ll check him out and let you know if there’s a connection.”

  When he hung up he called Judi. She said Nando had gone to Almirante at about two thirty yesterday. He was back in Bocas Town now.

  Clint called Sergio. The follower, Santo Santos, was killed last night after six thirty and before seven.

  “Were the trio gone?”

  “For about two hours. That’s when they crossed into Costa Rica after the papers check.”

  Clint sat back to think. Nando was who he figured for Danny’s killer – but why would he kill the one he had following them?

  Because he didn’t have that one following them, stupid! This was getting complicated.

  Okay. He was set up for delay on the twelfth. The stuff had been in the warehouse, ready, for six or seven days. They waited for a time Clint would be occupied while they moved the stuff. It was loaded in Chiriqui Grande on the twelfth and sailed later on the twelfth or early the thirteenth.

  This was strange! Why would he even know about whatever it was – or care?

  It came from the Tolé area. What was there? Who was the follower working for? Maybe that would give him a hint. He needed about anything to be able to connect anything else. All he had was a lot of disjointed anecdotal information in effect.

  He called Manny. Manny couldn’t get anything more than he had. Taylor seemed to be clean, at least from anything big. He would check on Santo Santos.

  Clint went back to the pension. He didn’t have a hint of a direction. He thought for awhile, then decided his only hope of learning anything was Tolé. He was about to go to the bus when Manny called to say Santos seemed to be a sort of semi-wannabe detective with delusions that it was like TV. With him dead it would be hard to find who he was working for. “They’re doing a good job of covering their tracks.”

  “A very professional kind of job,” Clint agreed. “Makes you wonder. Maybe they want something and this is a distraction in layers.”

  They chatted a bit, then Clint went to the bus.

  Clue Search

  Tolé is a tranquil little place near the Pacific. Clint liked that kind of place. Many of the people here were Indios, though not Ngobe. Not much was the same in their language.

  He checked around for quite some time, but didn’t learn much. L&L&L&L were about six kilometers away and usually only carried local vegetables and such for friends or would carry other things when someone moved or bought something that was delivered to the warehouse. He went to find L&L&L were working in the finca, but L was there.

  “It’s Lopez and Lopez and Lopez and Lopez. We’re three brothers and one sister. We bought the truck together and run the finca together,” Esmeralda Mendez Lopez explained. “We don’t do much with that part. Maybe once or twice a week and local.

  “I remember that part, though. A man who has a big finca in Veraguas brought it and paid us to take it to David when we were going with something else. He said it wasn’t anything but stuff from a relative, a cousin, who was moving to Bocas and would have to store it until he had a house, anyway. No hurry, but as soon as they could.

  “We had some things from Santiago to go to David for the next morning so took it.

  “Quentin! His name was either Martin Quentin or Quentin Martin! I remember because it was sort of unusual.

  “It was real. His cedula said the same thing.”

  “Oh, then you have his cedula (national ID card) number?”

  “Oh, sure. It’s the law. We have to get your cedula number and signature.” She went inside and came out with a slip of paper with the name and number. That might help a lot in finding who he was. The total weight of five boxes was twenty two kilos. They were marked fragile, though there was a note that it wasn’t really very fragile. That was already on the used boxes so they wouldn’t require insurance and wouldn’t hold L&L&L&L accountable for any damage.

  Tole was near the coast so it could well be something brought in, which still didn’t quite make sense to Clint. Why would it be brought there, then shipped by truck, then transhipped by truck to be loaded on a ship in Chiriqui Grande? It was obvious enough that somebody wanted it to be untraceable, but how and why was Clint Faraday involved to the point he had to be distracted while they were doing it? It could easily have been set up to be delivered to David that day – if the stuff from Santiago was there to be sure the stuff from Veraguas went that day. Clint didn’t want to appear too absorbed with it so didn’t ask who had the other part of the delivery set up.

  Veraguas. Santiago. He was halfway there, so caught the next bus. Clint grinned and headed for the bus. He was going to throw a few curves himself!

  Santiago and to the registro. He checked on Quentin Martin to find he ran a large cattle ranch for Kelvin Taylor. There was a connection if Clint didn’t have a least clue as to what was connected. Taylor and the trio and Taylor behind Nando. That there was a connection was obvious. The question was; How is Clint Faraday involved in the mess? Why?

  Two murders – that he knew about. Some idiot redneck
s paid to distract him (from what?). Shipments all over the western end of Panamá. An apparently hired killer in Bocas Town.

  This was stupid! What in HELL was going on? What the HELL was in those boxes?

  They had gone to some expense with this. Ten thousand just to distract him a couple of hours. Shipping and transhipping boxes. No argument about paying for the seized guns – but kill some redneck gringo because he was talking about it?

  The other murder. The follower. He should be checking on him instead of Nando. Maybe the connection was there. Reasoning it out, there were two groups involved, probably groups who didn’t like each other or who had to be stopped from something.

  Reason it further. He had to be distracted, then ... Manny was right. It was a layered distraction. This running around was a distraction. That meant the real solution was with Santos, not this bunch.

  Reason it even further. There wasn’t anything in those boxes. There isn’t anything to be found in western Panamá.

  Maybe there was! No way around it, the Taylors were in it up to their ears! He knew that the Taylors weren’t there. Martin was running the ranch. Taylor wasn’t there. The Taylor family was large and found all over Panamá. Clint knew several in Bocas Town. They were too often involved in political jobs, for a large part.

  This wasn’t politics. Was it?

  No. There wouldn’t be any reason to distract Clint over politics because he didn’t care.

  He went back to David on the next bus. They definitely were leaving clues that would take him to Panamá City. That was where they were so they wanted him to come there, but only after he followed this thing to this point.

  Judi called and said Nando had asked her about him. “He said he wanted to talk to you about a business deal. I told him you went somewhere and didn’t leave any message as to where. It seems as if he’s supposed to warn you about something.”

  “I think he wants to warn me about some people who want to warn me about him,” Clint replied. “I have a little of this worked out, I think. It’s a mess in some ways. I just can’t figure what I have to do with anything.

  “Judi, maybe we should try to find who was in Bocas Town or Almirante on the twelfth. There was someone who was scheduled to be there ... but they didn’t ... they waited until I was close enough to be distracted. That still means they were in Bocas Town or Almirante on the twelfth, but probably for a day or two before and maybe they still are.

  “Who’s in town for a couple of days before the twelfth and maybe a day or two more?”

  “Other than the regular tourists, nobody who sticks out. I can check. It’s obvious there’s big money involved so those people are easy to check.

  “Clint, there’s been a big yacht sitting by the channel for several days. I think it left on the thirteenth. I thought of it because some people asked if it was Jimmy Buffet’s yacht, but it isn’t. He doesn’t stay long when he’s here and it was there for a week.”

  “See what you can find out about it. It may be my connection.”

  They chatted a few minutes, then Clint relaxed for the rest of the trip. They were out of cellular range, anyhow.

  When they reached David Clint stretched and headed for Pedrigal. He had a friend there who said he could stay anytime. She had two bedrooms that were never used – that he wouldn’t use either. That would be the last place they would expect him to go. It might be a good idea to disappear for a day or two to see who was looking for him. He probably wasn’t followed yet. It was possible enough that he simply walked along the street until a Pedrigal bus came by and flagged it when it stopped for a stop sign, jumped on and it kept going. If he was being followed the only choice the follower had was a taxi.

  This was the bus that went past the airport. Clint sat in the back and noted that a taxi was hanging back about a block when they reached the main road. He got off at the airport and the taxi turned in there half a minute later and went on to the terminal. Clint went back out and across the road, then down a side street. The follower got off at the terminal, which Clint could see from there, and was hanging around out front, watching the entrance road for him to come walking in.

  Surprise! He wouldn’t be walking in.

  The follower could see the main road from where he was. There were a couple of women waiting for a bus so Clint managed to step into view as the bus approached. It stopped, the women got on, Clint walked back and was able to dodge down the side street while the bus blocked the view. The follower was wildly trying to flag a cab. Clint laughed and went on down the side street to stroll the eight blocks to Irina’s place.

  “Mr. Faraday? This is Vasily Armakov. We met briefly in Panamá City two years ago.”

  Clint had answered a buzz from an “unknown” number. “Yes?”

  “I believe you have been drawn into something that is very nasty. I fear it may have been my fault. I want to warn you that the people who are behind this are very dangerous. Both sides – and there are two.”

  “I see. What’s it really about?”

  “The supply of certain ... implements that are designed for one purpose, but are to be used for another purpose. I am trying to stop the delivery of those items.”

  “It was your yacht in the bay at Bocas?”

  “No. I think perhaps that was only a vessel that was there. They are simple tourists or something as mundane. They have nothing to do with this.

  “Mr. Faraday, I have nothing to do with it except to stop it. My homeland is part of what is at risk. It is representatives of two other countries. They are trying to ... promote a thing that will enslave one culture to another. My home merely happens to be too close in the area. If either is successful we are at risk. They will not stop with subjugation of one by the other. It will make them feel invincible.”

  “Both in the old Soviet Block?”

  “Yes. I will not say more about that. It is just that a statement made by myself in surprise may have made you appear to be a deadly danger to both adversaries. I merely said, upon being informed of the action by one, that you were in Bocas and would act to prevent such a travesty should you become aware of it and that you are very capable.

  “I do not know if they have ... if they have done more than to delay your knowledge of them. I feel you are intelligent enough to have discerned that is what is happening.”

  “It was your man following me?”

  There was a short pause. “So you detected him. He was much better than the opposition men. I have him there for your protection. There were two others. One is dead and one is in Bocas.”

  “Yeah. Fernando Salamas. He killed Santos.”

  “I would imagine that is the train of events. He is very possibly ordered to kill you if you seem to be getting too near the truth.”

  “I need more information. I can’t do anything if all I know is Taylor is part of it.”

  “Taylor is an idiot. He thinks he’s making a deal where he gets some millions of dollars. He will get dead should he fulfill the obligation he thinks he has entered into. These people want no trail for anyone to follow. They have made a terrible mistake in getting you involved and know it. Now they fear you will have left something somewhere that will implicate them. Had they not been introduced to that possibility they would have eliminated you from the first, not delayed you. There is another place where you are known that has them very afraid. I do not know where that place is or why they so fear you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It would be wise for you to actually leave something that would indicate you know much more than is truth. Preferably where they can get a copy. It can suggest far more than you know. Mention Niklev, Feinberg, Ghenkof, and Fandrev. Those names will strike a mutual fear into them. They will have to tread very carefully down any path where those names might be revealed. It will guarantee that they will do little more than try to intimidate you until they have the mis ... shipment. You need only leave the names somewhere. Do not try to build a scenario with them doing anything. It w
ould show that you know little or nothing.”

  “Yeah. I really don’t know anything.”

  “You are far safer not knowing.”

  “Not my nature. I’ll dig into it, but just to the extent it affects people here. Their worst mistake with me was bringing the Indios into it. Me? Who cares. My friends? I’ll never let it go.”

  “Yes. I agree. I was most surprised to find that you are Ngobe Bugle.”

  “They’re my people.”

  “Yes. You have made them so. I respect that more than you can know. I must go.” He hung up. Clint sat back to think, then made a list of people and what he’d learned. He added a few more to make them wonder what the hell he was doing. Turn about’s fair play!

  He put the four names Armakov gave him into the list that he was supposedly checking on through the internet. They were at separate points and he put a question mark after each. They’d also have to wonder why the names were in those positions.

  He slightly crumpled and smudged the papers so they’d look used and dropped the notes into his backpack.

  He decided, seeing he was here, he would spend the rest of the day and the night there.

  He went back into David just before noon and checked into the Costa Rica. Now that he knew he could spot the one besides Armakov’s man so would make it easy for him to find the note. He put the backpack in his room and went to lunch at the Hotel Alcala’. They had better than average meals moderately priced.

  He walked around a bit, greeting people, then went back to the pension. The little traps he set showed that his backpack had been searched.

  Now he had a bit of a weird dilemma. The other follower had followed him to the Alcala’ hotel. Armakov’s man didn’t unless he was better at it than Clint believed.

  Something else to consider. Clint laid on the bed to think. A grin slowly moved across his face.

  He had kept Armakov’s cel number. He never got rid of one. It took about ten minutes to find it, then he called.