Daiquiri Dock Murder Page 8

  “Jessie Vexton, where were you from five o’clock until midnight yesterday?”

  “I was on call at the marina during some of that time. Dad gives the employees, including Diego, time off on parade night, so I remain on duty in case a boater arrives late and needs help. Last night was a slow night. Guess everyone was attending the parade. Around seven, I closed the chandlery and went home.”

  “You didn’t mind missing the parade and the festivities on Duval Street and elsewhere on the island?”

  “No Sir. We’ve lived here a long time and I’ve seen lots of Fantasy Fest parades. During my teen years, nude women with their clothes painted directly onto their skin held a certain fascination for me. Even today I sometimes enjoy seeing the drag queens in full regalia looking more beautiful that most of Key West’s women. But last night I left the marina and went home.”

  “Got anyone to vouch for you?”

  Jessie shook his head. “At the marina, customers come and go—most of them strangers. Last night, few people stopped by. And nobody called me or came by my home.”

  “Rafa Blue? I have an account of your 9-1-1 call around midnight, but what were your activities earlier in the evening?”

  “I attended the parade for a short time, went home around ten o’clock, and stayed in my suite alone until I drove to the Vexton marina to check on our family’s boat.”

  “Kane Riley?”

  “No alibi, Sir. I attended the beginning of the parade, but after watching a few floats, a few marchers, I boarded my boat and remained there for the rest of the evening, keeping the lights on and making myself visible. Sometimes vandals hit on unoccupied boats and I didn’t want any bad stuff to happen to The Buccaneer. Saw few people around the Harbor Walk that could vouch for my presence.”

  Chief Ramsey directed his next question to Brick. “Mr. Vexton, what were your feelings toward Diego Casterano?”

  For an instant Brick looked startled and a muscle tightened along his left jaw. His reaction didn’t surprise me. I’d have tried to avoid such a question, too.

  “What sort of feelings?” Brick asked. “Feelings relating to our business dealings? Feelings relating to our long-time friendship?”

  “Any sort of feelings you care to share with me.”

  Brick hesitated so long, I wondered if he was going to refuse to answer Ramsey’s question. But at last he spoke. “Diego and I were long-time friends. Diego had worked for me for many years and in casual conversations we learned that during our lifetimes we shared many common experiences. I grew up in a Miami orphanage, abandoned at birth by my parents for reasons unknown to me. Diego arrived in Key West during Castro’s 1980 Mariel Boatlift, also abandoned by his family. But he knew why. They hated to see him grab that once-in-a-lifetime chance to legally leave his homeland. The Casteranos raised sugar cane, and Diego played an important part in their operation.”

  Brick hesitated and I didn’t blame him. Police officers can twist words—sometimes to their choosing. And once a person has said a thing, made any sort of a statement, it’s almost impossible for him to withdraw it. And I empathized with people who had been abandoned by their families.

  However, I couldn’t blame my family for their reaction to my childish run-away-from-home act at age 13. The streets of Miami were no place for a young girl living on her own, especially a rich kid who took off after stuffing her purse with a couple hundred bucks in cash—a kid who thought she knew everything. Just thinking about it now still made me pull farther into the protective shell I’d built around myself while living in a luxury suite in a luxury hotel. Poor little rich girl. Sometime I’d have to tell Kane about my past. But not today—or tomorrow. I could only guess at his reaction, and good or bad, I hated the thought of facing it. When had I fallen in love with him? My story might send him out of my life forever. I couldn’t face that, either.

  Suddenly Brick’s flushed face and harsh words about parents he never knew yanked my attention back to the here and now.

  “If you’re going too expect me to answer more questions,” Brick said, “I’d prefer to have a lawyer present.” His right hand clenched into a fist. “Shouldn’t you have given all of us here this afternoon a Miranda warning?”

  Chief Ramsey cleared his throat again, but before he could say more, Brick continued.

  “Maybe other people in this room today also would like to summon legal protection and advice. I’m ready to call a lawyer. It may be Sunday, but Diego’s murder may evolve into a major court case. I’m guessing most lawyers would be interested in representing any of us, regardless of the day.”

  “Nobody here is under arrest, Mr. Vexton. Authorities don’t Miriandize everyone during an informal questioning.”

  “Then we’re free to leave the building?” Kane shifted forward in his chair as if about to stand and go immediately.

  Detective Lyon dropped his notebook and pen into his coat pocket and stepped back, blocking the doorway.

  “I’d like everyone to remain here until I finish asking a few more questions.” Ramsey glared at Kane.

  “But anything we say can be held against us, right?” Brick rose and eased a few steps closer to the exit. Threnody and Jessie stood, ready to follow him.

  “Are you ordering us to stay here?” Kane asked the question before Ramsey could reply to Brick’s question.

  “I want to ask more questions,” Ramsey said. “You would be wise to remain here for a few more moments and answer them.”

  “Then we’re not really free to leave, are we, Sir?” Jessie directed his question to Ramsey but he looked at Kane as if for confirmation.

  “You’re all free to leave,” Ramsey said, “although I’m asking you to stay, no way am I forcing any of you to remain here against your will.”

  “Then if we’re free to leave, we’re not in your custody,” Kane said.

  “True,” Ramsey replied. “You aren’t in police custody.”

  “You’re not giving anyone a Miranda warning at the moment because it’s against the law to give Miranda warnings to people not in your custody. I heard that on TV—“Law and Order”—and I’m leaving. Right now. And I’m asking Rafa Blue to leave with me.”

  I wasn’t sure whether I should remain seated or rise and follow Kane from the chief’s office. Brick made the decision for me by standing beside his chair, easing toward Ramsey, and abruptly changing the subject.

  “Before any of us decide to leave or stay, I’d like some information about setting a time and place for Diego’s funeral service.”

  Ramsey stood his ground and Brick took another step forward—a step toward the door where Detective Lyon stood. I wondered if Lyon was playing guard, if he had orders to detain us if we started to leave.

  “Mr. Vexton.” Chief Ramsey spoke in a stentorian voice that let everyone know who was in charge. “The photographer has finished his work, but the medical examiner has not yet released the victim’s body. Officials are still running tests and recording details concerning the homicide.”

  Brick raised his chin and his voice and took a step closer to Ramsey. “To whom will the body be released when the medical examiner and his people finish their work?”

  Ramsey hesitated and Brick pounced on that hesitation.

  “Pablo Casterano seems to have gone missing—at least for the moment. Since the victim was one of my most respected employees, I’d like the privilege of claiming his body and arranging for his funeral unless Pablo appears before you and objects. I’m sure Threnody will agree to this.”

  I spoke up. “Since the victim, er, Diego, was my friend and a close friend of my family, I’d like to volunteer to help Brick and Threnody with the funeral arrangements in any way I can. I know Mother and Cherie both would make that offer were they on-island at this time.”

  Chief Ramsey shook his head and stepped behind his desk. His action made me wonder if he felt the desk gave him protection from us. Or maybe he felt it reinforced his rightful authority. When he spoke again, his
words commanded our full attention.

  “When the medical examiner releases the victim’s body, his next of kin may claim it.”

  “And what if his next of kin doesn’t do that?” Brick asked.

  “Then a friend may claim the body in the absence of family. Under those circumstances, you will be well advised to seek legal guidance.”

  Everyone started heading for the exit. Detective Lyon opened the door, but moments before anyone stepped into the hallway, Chief Ramsey called out.

  “You may go now. I thank you for coming here this afternoon. Please do not leave the island before making me or someone in my office aware of your plans.”

  Brick and Threnody headed for the elevator first with Jessie following close behind. Dolly Jass hung back, and Kane motioned for her to go ahead of us. She smiled and batted her eyelashes at Kane as she stepped ahead.

  “Let’s go someplace for lunch, Rafa,” Kane said in a voice that would carry to Chief Ramsey. “Maybe The Square Grouper.”

  “That’s on Cudjoe Key, Kane. Off-island.”

  “I know.” Kane linked his arm through mine, turned to grin at the chief, and gave a casual goodbye salute to Detective Lyon.

  Chapter 12

  (Still Sunday Afternoon)

  When we were out of Chief Ramsey’s hearing in the parking lot, I headed for my car, slid behind the wheel, and sighed in exasperation when Kane slipped into the passenger seat.

  “Kane, the chief said we’re not to leave the island without telling him or someone in his office. Why ask for trouble by driving off-island for lunch! We’re already persons of interest. Let’s don’t give the authorities reason to become more interested.”

  “Okay. So you’re right, but his questions irritated me. Guess he intended them to irritate me, hoped I’d react by blurting something I’d regret.”

  “But you didn’t. Good thinking.”

  “Guess I wished I hadn’t written those letters.”

  “Dad always advised me to set aside any letter written in anger and to let it cool overnight. Whenever I did that, I almost always destroyed the letter before it reached the post office.”

  “If I’d known Diego was going to turn up murdered…” Kane pounded his knee with his doubled fist. “No. I’m not sorry I wrote those letters. Not sorry at all. I needed to let people know how strongly we shrimpers feel about our working waters. People need to know the inside scoop. They need to pay attention when a commissioner resigns from her job because she feels other committee members, secretly working on the side of land developers, pushed through legislation detrimental to the majority of citizens.”

  “So you know who you’ll vote against at the next election, right?”

  “Fat lot of good it’ll do now that the legislation has passed. Let’s forget it and find a place to eat.”

  “Nobody should be at my place right now. We can go there. Or we can have The Frangi to ourselves, too—for a while at least. Better yet, let’s go to the hotel, order lunch, and eat outdoors beside the pool.”

  “Fine with me. Maybe we can plan a strategy that will keep us low on the chief’s list of suspects.”

  “Right. But I want to hear more about what you’ve heard about Diego’s murder. And maybe we can catch some news on radio or TV.”

  “Not if we’re outside by the pool, unless we want to advertise our interest in Diego’s murder to the hotel guests.”

  “You may be right about that. Let’s skip the radio.” I drove slowly to The Blue Mermaid, careful to obey all traffic rules and to attract no undue attention. Croton bushes lined the paved entryway to the hotel portico where several drivers waited behind their steering wheels for valets to take their cars into the ground level covered parking area. I drove on to the back entry.

  Kane spoke up. “This hotel is a good example of the illegal stuff white-collar crooks can sneak into legislation before honest Key West citizens know what’s happened to them. A similar thing happened to our working waters.”

  “I don’t get the connection, Kane.”

  “The guy I bought The Buccaneer from me told me that years ago, building contractors and the commissioners, supposedly working on the behalf of local citizens, agreed that hotels would be limited to a height of 4 stories. That way, home owners in the hotel area would still have their view of the sea.”

  “Guess you’ve noticed this hotel has 5 stories.” I parked in my usual spot.

  “Right!” Somewhere in the legal maneuvering, the building contractor slipped in a zinger that made it okay for the covered ground-level parking area not to count as the hotel’s first floor. But counting the parking area, there are a total of 5 floors. When citizens growled that the hotel blocked their ocean view, the builder laughed and waved his contract at them. Very sneaky.”

  “That must have happened years before Dad bought the hotel.”

  “True. But I’m pointing out that it happened. And the same thing is happening to what remains of our working waters.”

  “I’m glad Dad had no part in that bit of underhandedness.” I cut the motor, noting that Dolly had left her bike propped on its kickstand nearby. Finding a parking place on the island is such a hassle that Dolly refuses to own a car. She bikes everywhere, so far without mishap.

  “I’m starving, Kane.”

  Kane laughed. “It’s too late for lunch and too early for dinner. Want to settle for a sandwich beside the pool? We’ll call it lunner.”

  We strolled toward the pool gate before we stopped, realizing our faded jeans and tees would stand out like barnacles on a boat hull in this crowd of sleek-bodied sun bathers in their bikinis and low-rise briefs. “Okay, but maybe we need to change into more appropriate attire.”

  For a few moments we stood at the pool gate, listening to shouting kids, watching them splash water onto lounges bearing ladies who had no intention of getting wet. We grinned as the women flailed their arms and tried to protect their pricey hair-dos. Even from this distance, I inhaled mingled aromas of hairspray and coconut-scented sunscreen.

  “On second thought, why don’t we go to my suite, order from room service, and eat on my balcony? Food. Privacy. Sunshine. What more could we want?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “On third thought, why don’t I toss a fresh fruit salad, pour us some iced tea, and order hot garlic toast from room service?”

  “Sounds even better. How can I help?”

  “You can pour our iced-tea and help carry stuff to the balcony, okay?” Before we took the elevator upstairs, I picked a banana, an orange, and some mint leaves from our private garden near the pool. In only a few moments we sat on the balcony munching on the tangy fruit salad and the soothing flavor of the garlic toast. Although we took care not to sit near the balcony railing or make ourselves visible to the revelers in the pool below we enjoyed hearing them shouting, splashing, and having fun.

  When I looked into Kane’s eyes, he must have guessed what I was about the say.

  “Don’t expect any more news about the murder from me, Rafa. I’ve told you all I know—all I’ve heard. Diego must have had an enemy we’re unaware of.”

  “Who’s his next of kin other than Pablo?”

  “You know more about Diego’s family than I do.”

  I shook my head. “I’m guessing any other relatives live in Cuba.”

  “Think a jealous relative paddled here in the dark of night to off him?”

  “Don’t know what to think. I wonder. Was he wealthy—wealthy enough to make his next of kin interested in a quick inheritance?”

  “You think Pablo might have murdered him?”

  “I’ve no idea. But it’s a thought. Didn’t someone say they heard Diego and Pablo arguing about money?”

  “I heard them argue several times. The gist of it being that Diego thought Pablo should give up his beach-bumming ways and find a steady job.”

  “A job in addition to playing here in the combo?”

  “Of course. The combo job’s a
great way to earn a little extra pay, but it’s by no means self-supporting—not on this tourist’s paradise of rip-off prices.”

  “Strange that Pablo chose this week to do a disappearing act. If he expected an inheritance, he must have known he’d have to show up to claim his father’s body, arrange a memorial service.”

  “Maybe he couldn’t face that.”

  “Too grief stricken. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he lost his father.” I could still remember the shock and sadness I felt at losing my own father. I shook my head.

  “I hate to see you looking so sad, Rafa.”

  I managed a smile. “In spite of his grief, Pablo must have known he’d be one of the first persons of interest in an investigation. Kane, I don’t think Pablo had anything to do with his dad’s death. I’ve wondered now and then why Mother and Cherie were so close to Diego. You know the skinny on that? Guess I was never interested enough to ask, just sorta took his friendship for granted.”

  “Anything I know is gossip. Old timers say that after only a short time on the island, Diego fell in love with Key West, settled down here, and planned to stay. He met Brick Vexton when he stopped at his marina trying to buy a boat. For a while he used the runabout for making a living of sorts by doing small chores for people around the waterfront.

  I’ve heard Brick say Diego soon learned a boat was only a hole in the water where you poured your money. But Diego was a hard worker, and Brick hired him to help out at the marina. Eventually Diego worked up to the position of chief dock master Guess he met important people at the marina.”

  “That figures,” I agreed. “Diego’s outgoing personality and reputation for honesty must have helped get him elected as a councilperson. But he continued to work at the marina. Didn’t want to let Brick down.”

  Kane nodded in agreement. “The news of his death must have hit the Vextons hard. And it will hit your mother and Cherie hard, too. Wonder when they’ll get back home.”