Clint Faraday Mysteries collection A Muddled Murders Collector's Edition (38 page)

She said his name was Jorge Something and he
was from Las Tablas.

Well, that was progress! His name was
anything but Jorge and he’d probably never been anywhere near Las
Tablas. That only left a few million suspects. They would certainly
not get anymore information from her.

Denton Hanrady, who just happened to be there
when Vito and “Roxanne Roxanne” (Gloria Vasquez) came in said he
wasn’t about to spend hours waiting for the cops to stop harassing
customers and stalked out. He waited just around the corner until
she left in a huff because she couldn’t get anything for stuff
stolen from a murdered man even if she didn’t know it was stolen.
She got into a waiting taxi and they drove off. Clint got another
taxi and followed her out of town to a very exclusive hotel that
reminded him of El Critico, though this one was much more upscale.
Probably because the clientele was the same, if a good bit
wealthier.

The big
glass doors let him watch her go to the desk and pick up the keys
for 322. She got in the elevator and he took the one next to it a
minute later to get off on 3. She wasn’t in the hall, so was in the
room. 322. He went to stand just outside the door, but the sound
insulation was far too good for him to hear anything so he sat on
the bench at the end of the hall with a copy of
Visitante
(The Visitor), a free newspaper tourists
liked.

Two hours later she came out and went to the
elevator to punch for the top floor. The private bar and restaurant
were there. The public bar and restaurant were on the ground floor.
He was undecided as to whether to follow her, but she wouldn’t wait
that long to tell whoever that the stuff was gone and in the hands
of the police. Her contact was in that room.

Fifteen minutes late a “pretty” man came out
and went down in the elevator. Clint managed to catch the door and
jump in, grinning at the man – who gave him a very obvious
once-over look. He said his name was Denton.

“
I’m
Mark, called Marchesa here. Esta solo? Casado? Con novia?” (Are you
single? Married? Have a girlfriend?)

“
Single
and unowned at the moment. I’m afraid my Spanish isn’t very
good.”

“
I like
that! Unowned! Looking?”

“
Well, a
man’s always looking, but that’s not why I’m here.
Business.”

They got off the elevator and went into the
bar where he bought Mark a Marguerita and himself a Chivas on the
rocks. They chatted for a few minutes, Mark trying to get him to go
upstairs with him, he saying he’d never paid for sex in his life
and wasn’t about to start now – particularly as a gringo in Panamá!
He got offers of all kinds all the time. Mark laughed and said he
was off duty at two. Maybe they could get together then? Clint
grinned and said one never knew!

A fat older man came in to be greeted by most
of the people there. Mark said he was Gordo Sandista, a local VIP.
He had to get to work. He went to the table and chatted earnestly
with Gordo a moment. Gordo seemed royally pissed, but soon waved
him away. Roxanne came in and went directly to Gordo. She didn’t
say much, but Mark had already explained what had happened. She was
just the runner.

Gordo did NOT climb that fire escape and did
NOT steal the crap from a man whose throat he had just cut.
Mark?

Very unlikely, but possible.

Mark came back and said there was a bit of a
problem because of an employee who had stolen some things at a job
and there could be a lot of trouble over it. It was a stupid thing
to do. You don’t cause people like Gordo that kind of problem. He
wasn’t personally scared. He wasn’t the hit man. He damned well
knew who the hit man was.

They chatted for a little while until an
older rather ugly woman came in to hang all over Mark. He excused
himself and stood while she went toward the bar. “This is the part
I hate!” Mark hissed. “Well, it pays well. Very well.”

“
For
every refuge there’s a price,” Clint agreed. Mark laughed and went
to the bar. Ten minutes later a man came in to talk animatedly with
Gordo. Gordo seemed to give him instructions and he left. Clint
managed to be paying his tab when the man went by to get into a
waiting car. Clint got a taxi and said to follow the car from a
distance. The cabbie said no one followed that car. Clint said
twenty bucks extra and he could stay back far enough to where they
wouldn’t know they were followed. The cabbie said Okay – unless
they took a road that would let them know they were being
followed.

They didn’t. They went to the Via España and
to a fleabag hotel, The Wanderer’s Inn, where the man got out to go
inside. The car drove off.

Clint paid the taxi and went to the bar
across the road. Before long the man came out and walked back
toward the center of town. He’d only gone more than a block when
someone stepped from behind a stall and hit him rather forcefully
over the head with a board. “Another one who isn’t going to get
capped that easily!” Clint mumbled. He yelled to stop and the one
with the board dropped it and ran. Clint went to the man on the
sidewalk and noted he probably had a fractured skull, but was
alive. He used his cellular phone to call the emergency number for
an ambulance and Vito. Vito came up a few minutes later in a police
car, nodded to Clint and helped the man on the sidewalk to sit up.
Clint said he shouldn’t move him until there was a medic who knew
what to do.

“
They
don’t know what to do, my greatest concern. What
happened?”

“
I saw
this man walking down the street – I was in that bar there – and
somebody jumped out from behind that stall and hit him with that
board. I yelled and the other one ran. I called for an
ambulance.”

“
Can you
describe the one who hit him?”

“
Thin,
about five eight or nine, longish hair, moreno at a guess, black
shirt and purple pants. I didn’t see too much because I wasn’t that
close.”

“
Ha! You
saw about ten times what anyone else would ever admit to seeing,”
Vito replied sourly. The ambulance came and Vito helped put the man
into it. He took the man’s cedula (ID) and wrote the information
down, thanked Clint and went toward his car. Clint caught on that
he didn’t want the man or the ambulance driver or both to know he
knew him. Vito pointed up the Via España as he got in his car.
Clint started walking that direction.

A number of people were standing around,
gawking. Clint had gone only a few feet when Vito backed up and
said to get in the car. It wasn’t safe for a gringo to be walking
alone at night in that section. Clint said he’d never had any
trouble. Thanks for the concern.

“
You just
saw a man get hit over the head with a board, probably because he
looked like he might have some money, and you say that?” Vito
asked. “That’s where the expression ‘gringo loco’ came from. Get
in. I’ll drop you off closer to Centro.”

Clint looked sheepish and got in. He noted
the two who had moved close enough to overhear. One of them had
been lolling around the fancy hotel where Gordo was having his meal
and drinks. Probably the driver of the car that carried the man who
had been smacked over the head. Veddy inderesdink! Was he there to
see that the hitter or the hit didn’t make it? Come to think of it,
if he put on a black shirt and purple pants he could be the
hitter.

The way that kind thought would mean that the
one who had been hit over the head was the only link between Gordo
and the one who offed Ras. Gordo was, by elimination, behind the
whole sordid mess – but what was it really about?

“
Donaldo
Presto, a part-time runner and gofer for Gordo Sandista,” Vito
said.

“
What?”

“
The one
who got his head bashed in about one-third the degree
desired.”

“
And the
one on the left as I got in the car?”

“
Mano
Perez. Just drives a car for Gordo. Why?”

“
Because
he’s also the one who smacked dear Donny-boy over the head. He also
does little odd jobs on the side for dear old Gordo, would you
say?”

“
Probably
exactly what I’d say at this point.”

“
The one
who offed Ras lives or stays at The Wander’s Inn,” Clint said. Vito
nodded.

Can’t Trust
Nobody

Clint decided he would go as himself to The
Wanderer’s Inn. It might be better to let them know he was getting
very close to finding them with proof. He changed his mind and
decided to go to the hospital to see if Donaldo Presto was ready to
try to save his own skin about now. He couldn’t help knowing Gordo
had to have him shut up. He was the only one who could tie the
murder of Ras to Gordo. His only chance was to take the option away
from that one of getting rid of him before he blabbed.

Donaldo was still in a coma, but the damage
wasn’t enough to keep him in it for very long. Less than three
hours. He decided to wait. It was pretty certain someone would make
an attempt at Donaldo. They didn’t have much time. He sat back in
the reception room with his copy of Visitante to watch who came in.
It wasn’t more than about fifteen minutes when Mano came to ask the
receptionist something. He went to the stairs and Clint followed
close enough to see him checking room numbers. He looked around in
front of Danaldo’s room, saw Clint and said he recognized him from
when his friend, Mano, was hit with a board. He just came to see
how he was doing. Vito stepped from the room across the hall and
asked what the two were doing there.

“
Apparently the same thing. I was – Oh! You’re the
policeman! I just came to see how he was doing. I could tell he had
a concussion or worse. They told me he would be able to talk in a
few minutes so I waited. You know, you can’t let this kind of thing
get started. If tourists think they’re in danger here they won’t
come here anymore.”

“
Yes.
We’re trying to keep it down as much as we can. It’s the same story
all over. Not enough money for the necessary force. We have to
convince them that the money will come if tourists come. I’m afraid
we can’t let him talk to anyone until he’s talked with the police.
That’s not my job, but I was close and got the call so will stay
until we’ve had a little chat. I doubt, seeing he is who he is, it
was a random thing. He will know who and why. It’s a matter of
getting him to tell us. If he doesn’t he will be killed the next
time.”

“
You know
who he is?”

“
Donaldo
Presto, a sort of local thug. I can never understand how the type
never catches on to the fact that the people who hire him to do the
things they hire him to do will hire someone to do the same to them
in a minute! His only chance to stay alive two more days is to tell
us what it’s about and who’s involved. Fifty-fifty he
won’t.”

Clint sighed loudly and nodded. He said he
might as well go. He didn’t know he was trying to help a common
thug who probably deserved being smacked with a board.

Mano said he had no idea. He thought the
police were wrong. Naldo was a nice guy, though he did have a
temper at times.

Vito shrugged and said chances were 90-10 he
was smacked because of some kind of criminal activity – but he’d
been wrong before.

Clint went out with Vito talking with Mano
and to the hotel for a very quick change out of the disguise. He
was soon waiting in front of The Wanderers Inn when Mano came to
park in the lot to the side. He went inside and was close to the
reception desk when Mano walked straight back to the elevator. He
ducked into the stairs and ran to the second floor. The elevator
hadn’t stopped so he went up to the third where the elevator was
standing open. Mano was entering room 331 with a key. He called,
“Chino!” several times. Less than a minute later he came out with a
look of pure fury on his face. He came toward the elevator where
Clint was lounging.

“
Figured
the odds of living to see tomorrow if Naldo talked and skipped,
hunh?” Clint asked pleasantly. Mano stared for a good ten seconds,
then shrugged. “Who’re you?”

“
Clint
Faraday. I got messed up with Gordo’s little group because of the
idiotic crap in Puerto Armuelles.

“
This
leaves you in a hell of a tight spot, I’d say. Want to have a cup
of coffee and talk?”

He shrugged again and looked trapped. Clint
said he very definitely wasn’t working for Gordo, and wouldn’t. He
just wanted to talk. Maybe he could find Mano a safe place until
this was over. Mano asked why he would want a safe place.

“
Because
Naldo will have to spill his guts, Chino skipped. That leaves
you.”

Mano shook his head and claimed he had a way
to be safe. Gordo wouldn’t go after him. He wasn’t the least
worried about that.

He was very definitely worried about
something. That was obvious from the way he was looking around and
the way he was sweating.

He wasn’t worried about Gordo because he had
something on him. That meant he was worried about someone Gordo
couldn’t protect him from. That meant Clint didn’t have nearly the
whole pyramid of power here, which meant that Gordo answered to
someone else. If he was second level there was at least one more on
that level.

They went into a little caf not far along the
calle toward Bella Vista. It was about halfway toward downtown from
The Wanderers Inn to the Hotel California. Clint knew the people
there. They ordered coffee and hojaldres.

“
So. Do
you know who Gordo answers to or his other contact on his level?”
Mano looked surprised and shrugged. “Maybe Niko Valdez. I guess he
would be the other one with the same power as Gordo. I never found
out who the big man is. I don’t think it’s him.”