MARK KANE MYSTERIES

BOOK THREE

THE BLACK WIDOW

Copyright © 2015 by John Hemmings

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover by Octagon

Table of Contents

About the Author

THE MARK KANE MYSTERIES SERIES...SO FAR

FULL CHAPTER HEADINGS

Preface

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

A Word from the Author

Book One: Forget Me Not

Book Two: Ice

Book Three: The Black Widow

Book Four: Till Death

Book Five: Missing

Book Six: I Spy

Book Seven: A Tangled Web

About the Author

John Hemmings is a lawyer and writer of crime fiction with a one hundred percent record − none of his clients have been executed...yet. Some of his stories are suggested by actual cases he has been involved with, but names have been changed to protect the innocent – and sometimes the guilty!

Each of his books features Boston private investigator Mark Kane, or simply Kane as he is known to most people, and his longtime companion Lucy - a slightly oddball couple with a somewhat unconventional relationship.

"I write for enjoyment − the sort of books that I hope have broad appeal in the mystery/detective genre; the kind of books I like to read myself − and as a family man I write for all ages − the sex private (even private eyes like a bit of privacy!), the language tempered. Take a look at those movies from the thirties and forties: Edward G. Robinson, Cagney, Bogart; the lack of strong language didn't take away anything from the air of menace those guys exuded. Of course, they wouldn’t have talked like that in real life, but then a movie or a novel is not ‘real life’."

"I have used my experience to make the stories as authentic as possible, although these books are intended as entertainments, so a little 'poetic license' is sometimes necessary. As for 'character development', this is a series told in real time. While each book is a standalone story, as my readers progress through the books more is gradually revealed about my protagonist and his sidekick. My readers sometimes ask me what Kane & Lucy look like; but as to their physical appearance well, that's the beauty of books over movies - they look just like each reader imagines they look."

To contact the author, please visit http://johnhemmings.net/contact

THE MARK KANE MYSTERIES SERIES...SO FAR

‘Yesterday upon the stair, I met a man who wasn’t there’
– William Hughes Mearns

For Adora

FULL CHAPTER HEADINGS

Chapter One: Paradise Lost

Chapter Two: Fragrant Harbor Revisited

Chapter Three: A Flying Visit

Chapter Four: Westlake

Chapter Five: My New Assistant

Chapter Six: The Investigation

Chapter Seven: Clark

Chapter Eight: The Dutchman

Chapter Nine: The Medical Examiner

Chapter Ten: The Café

Chapter Eleven: Cary

Chapter Twelve: Paul

Chapter Thirteen: Olongapo

Chapter Fourteen: Gary

Chapter Fifteen: The Watch

Chapter Sixteen: The Suitor

Chapter Seventeen: The Big Picture

Chapter Eighteen: The Firehouse

Chapter Nineteen: The Receipt

Chapter Twenty: Some Good News

Chapter Twenty One: The Release

Chapter Twenty Two: The Early Birds

Chapter Twenty Three: Cathedrals and Crocodiles

Chapter Twenty Four: The Fat Lady

A Word from the Author

The Mark Kane Mysteries Series

Book One: Forget Me Not

Book Two: Ice

Book Three: The Black Widow

Book Four: Till Death

Book Five: Missing

Book Six: I Spy

Book Seven: A Tangled Web

Preface

In writing this series I think it only fair to acknowledge my debt to that master of the detective genre, Raymond Chandler. Whilst I could never hope to produce narratives of such accomplishment, nor produce such a memorable hero as Philip Marlowe, in writing this series of novels I have nevertheless tried to be true to Mr. Chandler’s concept of what a private detective novel should comprise. I have adopted his famous guidelines, not simply because I admire him as a peerless writer of private detective crime fiction but because I believe they truly encapsulate everything that a good crime novel should be, namely:

It should be credibly motivated, both as to the original situation and the dénouement.

It should be technically sound as to the methods of murder and detection.

It should be realistic in character, setting and atmosphere. It must be about real people in a real world.

It should have a sound story value apart from the mystery element: i.e., the investigation itself must be an adventure worth reading.

It should have enough essential simplicity to be explained easily when the time comes.

It must baffle a reasonably intelligent reader.

The solution must seem inevitable once revealed.

It should not try to do everything at once. If it is a puzzle story operating in a rather cool, reasonable atmosphere, it cannot also be a violent adventure or a passionate romance.

It must punish the criminal in one way or another; not necessarily by operation of the law, but if the detective fails to resolve the consequences of the crime, the story is an unresolved chord and leaves irritation behind it.

It must be honest with the reader.

As for the hero, Chandler also had firm views. The morality of the detective is paramount. In his essay, ‘The Simple Art of Murder’, he wrote: ‘Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. The detective in this kind of story must be such a man. He is the hero; he is everything. He must be a complete man and a common man and yet an unusual man. He must be, to use a rather weathered phrase, a man of honor – by instinct, by inevitability, without thought of it, and certainly without saying it. He must be the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world’.

If Mr. Chandler were alive today it is doubtful that he would be impressed by my clumsy attempts at writing crime fiction, but I hope he would be satisfied with my attempts to carry on a fine tradition.

Chapter One

Paradise Lost

Lucy lay on her back on the white sand, her legs in the water, the gentle surf tickling her toes. She was facing due west and marveling at the most beautiful sunset she’d ever seen, or ever remembered seeing. It was the kind of sunset that only Thailand could produce, she thought. She’d always assumed that the pictures in the vacation brochures had been photo-shopped, but day after day she’d been proved wrong.

Koh Samui. The very name sounded exotic; better than Samui Island, which is what the name meant. As a barely perceptible warm breeze washed over her she could feel a slight burning sensation on the skin of her arms, her shoulders and her face. She’d need to keep out of the sun tomorrow or she’d look like a tomato, but she had the type of skin that tanned well and if she was careful she wouldn’t peel. Anyway, tomorrow she was off to see the elephants. She’d be traveling by taxi and she’d be shielded from the sun in the forest.

She felt a million miles away from the mausoleum, which is how Lucy thought of the office where she worked back home. The office had no windows so there was nothing to look at except the four walls. Kane told her it was ideal; if she had a window to stare out of she’d only end up daydreaming. It was alright for Kane and the others who used it as their professional headquarters, because they hardly ever went there. That was good in a way because it meant she was effectively her own boss, even though the name board outside the office described her as the secretary, but mainly bad because she was so isolated. Lately she’d been trying, unsuccessfully so far, to persuade Kane to let her work from home. They could still keep the office and she could go there on the rare occasions that clients attended meetings. And they could still keep the office phone; she’d simply forward all the calls to her home. No-one would know; it was like those call centers where the customer service representatives pretended to be in Massachusetts when they were really in Mumbai. She’d catch them out sometimes by asking them what the weather was like where they were. The smart ones would pretend that they didn’t know because they had no windows. You and me both, she thought.

Anyway, she’d tackle that topic again when she got home. She’d be empowered by rest and relaxation. She wouldn’t take no for an answer this time. Lucy got up and trudged back to the hotel, making slow progress as her feet sank into the soft sand. She walked down to the edge of the water where the sand was firmer and she made better progress. She’d have an hour to get ready for dinner with Suzie and Dale. They’d taken a taxi to Chaweng, which was a twenty-minute ride from Lamai Beach, where they were all staying, but Lucy preferred to spend the afternoon on the beach. They’d gone to Chaweng to do some shopping because there wasn’t much available in the tiny town near their hotel. But Lucy had been with her new friends to Chaweng the day before, on the way back from visiting the Big Buddha at Bang Rak, and she hadn’t thought much of it; a bustling town full of tourist shops and fast food eateries, girlie bars and massage parlors. The town seemed to be full of rather dubious Russians too, and grotesque parodies of sixty-something fat-bellied male tourists with young Thai girls on their arms. Lucy wasn’t a prude, but she’d come for the peace and tranquility of Thailand. Chaweng was too cosmopolitan for her taste, and too busy and noisy as well.

She’d been so lucky to meet Suzie and Dale. If it wasn’t for them she wouldn’t be here at all. She’d met them in Phuket where she was supposed to be spending her entire two week vacation. They’d met on her third day, by the hotel swimming pool, and exchanged tales of disillusionment with the place. Not the hotel, which was nice enough, but the island. It wasn’t what she expected at all. Her vacation had started inauspiciously by being ripped off by the taxi driver who drove her from the airport and tried to persuade her to go to a different hotel; and things had got worse from then on. The beach, which the brochure had described as three miles of pristine sand and crystal clear water had turned out to be filthy. There was a foul stench from a large blue sewer spewing God knew what into the sea, and plastic bags and other debris floating in the water. As she’d walked along the beach she was hassled constantly by locals trying to sell her fake Rolex watches and Luis Vuitton purses. She’d tried the town and found rows of girlie bars, where young local girls repeatedly called out to the male tourists: “Hi sexy” or “Hi handsome man” in a sometimes successful attempt to part them from their money, or worse. But the thing that had amazed her most was that everything seemed to be in Chinese. Chinese signs, Chinese tour guides waving little Chinese flags ahead of groups of Chinese tourists. There were brochures at the hotel reception for local events. The brochures were written in Chinese.

Lucy had expressed her disappointment with Phuket to Suzie and Dale, who were fellow American tourists, during a casual conversation by the poolside, and the two of them had agreed that it left a lot to be desired.

“It’s not my favorite place, but Suzie wanted to see it so we came anyway,” Dale said.

Dale had lived in Asia for several years. He was based in the Philippines, having left the States a few years before to see the world. He liked Asia and decided to settle in the Philippines, but because he was on a tourist visa he had to leave frequently.

“Basically I can stay for a month without a visa,” he said, “then I can extend my stay month by month without leaving the country by going to the Immigration Department; but an extension costs about eighty dollars, and for little more than that I can simply fly to Hong Kong or Bangkok or wherever for a few days and then return to Manila and get another month’s stay.”

Dale had met Suzie in Bangkok on one such break earlier in the month and they’d hit it off. Suzie was on vacation from Sacramento and after they met they decided to stay together for the duration of Suzie’s vacation. They’d been together to Pattaya and then back to Bangkok and then traveled north to Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai; but by the time Lucy met them in Phuket Suzie had only a little over a week left before she had to return home.

“The Chinese are so rude,” said Lucy. “If you’re in a line they just push in front of you; they go through swing doors and let them slam in your face, and they don’t seem capable of talking at a normal volume. At mealtimes they eat with their mouths open, talk with their mouths full and shout to each other across the dining room. God knows I’m not a racist,” said Lucy, “but pul-ease.”

Dale laughed at Lucy’s frustration. “I know Lucy, but you have to understand, due to the speed at which China’s developing most of these tourists have gone from being peasants to being very wealthy in the space of a few years. They haven’t had a hundred and fifty years to make the transition from working-class to middle-class, so you have to make allowances. And you can’t blame the Thais for accommodating them because they probably spend a lot more than all the other tourists put together.”

“Dale and I are planning to fly to the other side of the peninsula,” Suzie said. “He says it’s much nicer in Koh Samui. Why don’t you come with us? I’m sure you’ll like it a lot better there.”

And so that’s what Lucy had done. She had to risk losing the money that she’d already paid for her room, but she emailed the internet travel company through whom she’d booked the hotel and made a complaint that she’d been misled about the resort, so she hoped to get something back. Anyway, she wasn’t going to bite off her nose to spite her face. She wanted to make the most of the time she had left. The three of them had taken the short flight to Koh Samui the following day, and for the past six days had spent most of their time together. As Lucy strolled along the beach, the warm water licking her ankles, she passed a small thatched beach café and decided she had time for a fresh coconut juice. She looked out over the sea at the sun sinking behind the horizon and thought back over the past few days.

Lucy had assumed that once they got to Samui they’d go their own ways, but Dale and Suzie were having none of it. Dale had chosen the hotel and got them a great deal, his years in Asia having made him an expert in bargaining; and since arriving in Samui they’d been almost inseparable. Lucy had been worried about playing gooseberry at first, but both Suzie and Dale had made it clear that they enjoyed her company. They’d hired a jeep and driven around the entire island and visited the grandmother and grandfather rocks, so called because the rock formations looked similar to male and female genitalia, which had Lucy and Suzie in fits of laughter. They’d visited a temple with a mummified Buddha in a glass case, incongruously wearing sunglasses to conceal the empty eye sockets. They’d stopped at a local restaurant, on the southern tip of Samui, and eaten gorgeously fresh seafood at local prices. They’d snorkeled and raced around on jet-skis, and been sea-fishing on a local boat before dawn. It had been a whirlwind of sun and fun and Lucy had become really fond of her new friends. Suzie was a few years younger than Lucy but they’d become almost like sisters during the past week.

Lucy reached the hotel, which was set back from the beach, and went up to her room. None of the hotels in Lamai were more than three stories, and Lucy’s was on the second floor. The room was furnished simply with traditional Thai furniture. The bedroom had a king-size four poster, and there was a sitting room and a small balcony too. The room had been cleaned in her absence and a fresh bath towel, cleverly folded to look like a swan, was laid on the bed. She filled the bath tub with warm water and poured in orchid oil, thoughtfully provided by the hotel. As she luxuriated in the tub she thought of Kane. She’d tried to persuade him to join her on her vacation but he was engaged in a kidnapping investigation. As it happened it turned out not to be a kidnapping at all, just an attempt by the client’s daughter to extract a cool quarter of a million dollars from her own father. Now Kane was complaining that he had no work to do. He’d be sitting at home every day reading, she supposed. Kane did a lot of reading in his spare time.

She’d skyped him once or twice while she’d been away, but usually the time difference or her activities prevented it, so she was looking forward to telling him all about her adventures when she got home. She got out of the tub, dried herself and then put on a sarong for dinner, the cotton cooling the slight burning sensation on her shoulders. Lucy seldom wore much make-up, but she made sure to apply face cream. She didn’t want to reach middle age looking like a wrinkled old prune. They were going to dine in one of the hotel’s restaurants; in the open air overlooking the beach. She wondered what the Thai for al fresco was. As she made the short walk to the restaurant she noticed that heavy clouds were moving in from the east. It was November and she knew that the weather could be unpredictable, but although the rain was heavy at times it passed quickly, as if specially ordered to simply freshen up the air.

“I’m really going to miss you guys,” Lucy said.

It was Suzie and Dale’s last night. Tomorrow morning they’d be leaving for the airport. Dale had persuaded Suzie to spend the last two days of her vacation in the Philippines, so they’d fly there tomorrow and Suzie would fly home from Manila a couple of days later. Lucy would be visiting the elephants by herself tomorrow. She was an independent kind of person and she’d enjoy the remainder of her vacation on her own, but she’d always cherish the memories of the past few days with her new friends. It was the kind of friendship which could only be forged on a vacation, she thought, where they all knew that they had to make the most of every waking minute.

“We’ll miss you too, Lucy,” said Suzie, “but we’ll keep in touch. It’s been a blast.”

It was said in earnest but inside they all knew that they were never likely to see each other again. A chance meeting had led to a wonderful week and that was enough. They ordered local cocktails and raised their glasses to each other.

“It’s a bit like the Last Supper,” Dale said.

They walked together back to their respective rooms and agreed to meet for breakfast. Lucy lay on her bed and within minutes fell into a deep, untroubled sleep.

At breakfast the next morning Suzie was excited about her trip to Manila.

“It’ll only be a couple of days Lucy but you’ve gotta cram in all you can. You never know what the future has in store for you.”

As Dale was loading their bags into the taxi Lucy and Suzie hugged each other.

“Maybe there’s a future for the two of you,” Lucy said.

“It’s just a holiday fling, Lucy,” she said. Then she whispered in Lucy’s ear: “Too young to die yet, kiddo.”

Lucy waved them goodbye and went back to her room to prepare for her day with the elephants.

On the way back to the hotel that evening Lucy felt like some company so she asked the taxi to drop her in the local town which was a single street with small shops, restaurants and bars. There was an area where she’d sat one evening with Dale and Suzie with about a dozen Bar Beers. Lucy thought the name must be a misprint when she’d seen it in the tourist guide. Surely they must mean Beer Bars? But no, that was what they were actually called: Bar Beers. Each bar had a few local girls with whom you could chat or play games. She played checkers with one of the girls and repeatedly lost. When you lost you had to buy the girl a drink. She played pool with another local girl and she lost that too; but the girls were fun. She knew that they’d accompany a customer home for a fee, but that was okay. It was prostitution, but it wasn’t in your face, and she learned that prostitution in Thailand didn’t carry the same stigma that it did in the West. She ate a burger and drank a coke and then caught a taxi back to the hotel. It was almost ten o’clock when she went to the reception desk to get her key and there was a message for her at the desk. It was from Suzie and there was a cell phone number with an international prefix which she didn’t recognize but she assumed must be the Philippines. She went straight up to her room and made the call. Suzie answered the phone immediately. She was breathing heavily and Lucy could tell she was trying not to cry.

“Whatever’s the matter Suzie? What’s happened?”

“It’s Dale,” Suzie said. “He was arrested at the airport in Manila. I don’t know what to do.”

“Arrested?” Lucy said. “What for?”

“Lucy, he’s been arrested for murder,” she sobbed.

Chapter Two

Fragrant Harbor Revisited

I was sitting in my living room drinking my umpteenth coffee of the morning and periodically checking my watch to see if the sun was over the yard arm yet so that I could treat myself to a real drink. I was reading Breakfast of Champions and waiting for the phone to ring. I’d been waiting for the phone to ring for several days; I was having a fallow period in my professional life. Lucy had taken herself off to the Orient for a vacation and so I’d had a week or so to enjoy some peace and quiet; but you can have enough peace and quiet. There was a temporary secretary in the office whom I’d never met; I hadn’t spoken to her either. Her name was Brenda and she was working her way through college. Lucy had told her that the job was ideal for her since there wasn’t much to do at the office so she could work on her assignments and she could make up some of the classes she would miss in the evenings, so Brenda had agreed to hold the fort while Lucy was away. I assumed that the reason my cell phone hadn’t rung was because nobody was beating a path to my door. It was a period of investigative void the like of which I hadn’t experienced for some time. I was okay financially though because my most recent client had insisted that I take a handsome bonus for a job well done. Since I’d been taught from an early age never to look a gift-horse in the mouth I graciously accepted. His daughter had faked her own kidnapping to try to extort money out of the old man, but he was simply delighted to have her back. It was a cry for help, he explained to me; he blamed himself. I didn’t much mind who was blamed so long as nobody blamed me.

Lucy was tanning herself on a beach somewhere in Thailand. Well, not at that precise moment, I thought, since it would be night time. As sometimes curiously happens, while I was having these idle thoughts some kind of mental telepathy must have occurred across the ether because the telephone rang, and when I picked it up it was Lucy.

“Kane, I need you,” she said.

“This is so sudden Lucy.”

“Seriously, listen to me. I need you to come here right away.”

“To Thailand?” I said.

“No, to Manila.”

“I thought you were in Thailand.”

“I am; but I’m leaving for Manila in the morning. I can’t fly there direct, I’ll have to go to Bangkok first, or maybe Hong Kong; I haven’t decided yet. I’ll have to see what flights are available in the morning.”

“I think you better slow down Lucy. What’s happened?”

“I met some friends here in Thailand; Dale and Suzie. They’re both from the States. We hung out together and became pretty close. Yesterday they left for Manila – Dale lives in the Philippines, but he’s only on a tourist visa, and Suzie was going to spend a couple of days with him before going home. When they got to Manila Dale was arrested in connection with a murder. I don’t know anything else at the moment but Suzie needs me there. She doesn’t know anybody and doesn’t know what to do. I told her to go to the U.S. Embassy and she said she’d go tomorrow, but we all know they won’t do anything much. I told her I’d call you because you’d know what to do. I told her I’d get you here to help.”

“I don’t see what I can do.”

“You can find out what’s behind this. It’s probably just some stupid mistake but Suzie’s worried. She’s spent quite a bit of time in Asia herself and she’s not a big fan of law enforcement in Asian countries. It’s not like the States. She doesn’t know too much about Dale and she can’t afford to stay beyond Tuesday, but she doesn’t want to abandon him.”

“Lucy if I thought I could help in some way I would, but I’d be like a fish out of water over there. I don’t know anybody, I’ve no contacts and I can’t even speak the language.”

“Everybody speaks English there – well, not everybody but most people do, and if there’s a problem we can get an interpreter. If I thought that Dale was even capable of murder I wouldn’t ask, but I got to know him pretty well over the past week. The whole thing’s ridiculous. Dale’s been away from the Philippines for several weeks, and if he’d murdered somebody before he left he’d hardly go back there. Anyway I want you to come and that’s an end to it.”

So that being an end to it I cranked up the computer to check for flights. I couldn’t fly direct. I could go via Amsterdam or Dubai or London or a million other places. Then I had an idea. I’d been promising John Carter, an old friend in Hong Kong, that I’d stop by and see him sometime. He’d helped me on a recent case too. I booked a ticket to Hong Kong via JFK. I’d spend a night in Hong Kong and fly to Manila the next day. That would get me there by Thursday lunchtime. I’d have time to check with the embassy and try to find out what it was all about; if I was lucky I might even get to see the officer in charge of the murder investigation. Lucy was due back at the weekend, so if all went well we could fly back to Boston together.

I checked the hotels in Hong Kong on the internet and got a special deal for the Peninsula in Kowloon. I didn’t want to put John on the spot by announcing my arrival at short notice so that he’d feel obliged to put me up. Lucy had suggested that I travel light − it would be warm in Manila and if I needed anything I could buy it there cheaply enough. I packed a lightweight linen suit, so that I’d look the business when I went to the embassy, and threw in an assortment of underwear, T shirts, jeans and a handful of paperbacks. All done, I decided to put in an appearance at the office, so I drove downtown on the way to the airport and parked in the office parking garage. I’d leave the Chevy there and take a cab to the airport.

I opened the office door as stealthily as I could, put my head inside and said, “Boo!”

Brenda jumped and hurriedly scrambled to put away whatever work she had been absorbed in.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” I said. “I’m Kane and this is a rare and brief visit to the helm of my business empire.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Kane. Lucy said it would be okay if I …”

“It’s fine, Brenda,” I said. “You just carry on. I hope you’ve settled in alright. I just called in to say hi and to let you know I’ll be away for a few days. Maybe longer than a few days; I’m not sure.”

I handed her a note I’d scribbled to John Carter. “Can you fax this to Hong Kong? I’ve written the number there. I’m going to the Philippines to meet Lucy and she’ll keep in touch with you. It’s possible we might need you to stay a little longer; would that be alright?”

“Yes, of course. No problem. There doesn’t seem much to do here; is it always like this?”

“I don’t really know; I don’t come here much. Have you had any contact with my colleagues?”

My colleagues were a motley assortment of individuals who shared the office facilities, such as they were, and helped to pay the rent.

“Bill, er, that’s Mr. Slocum called in to see if there were any messages, and Mr. Davis has phoned a couple of times. Apart from Mr. Slocum, and you of course, I haven’t seen any live human beings.”

“Well, you never know,” I said. “No doubt as soon as I leave the country there’ll be scores of potential clients anxious to see me. It’s one of the Creators little jokes, like how it always rains on your day off. I’m in a bit of a rush now so I’ll let you get back to your studies.”

I took a cab to the airport and flew to JFK. I had a long wait there before my Cathay Pacific flight to Hong Kong, which didn’t leave until after midnight; quite a bit after midnight actually as it was delayed due to some unspecified problem. On the upside it was a non-stop flight and it would arrive early in the morning and give me a full day in Hong Kong. On the downside it was a sixteen-hour marathon; but I managed to charm the check-in girl into allocating me an emergency exit row seat with extra legroom. I didn’t plan on eating a meal on the plane so I headed to the bar to drink my dinner there instead. On the plane I struggled to stay awake until the seat belt sign went out and then drifted off to the land of Nod.

It was the first time I’d visited Hong Kong since I’d helped with a police sting many years before. I’d lived there for a couple of years as a teenager with my brother, Duncan, and my parents. My father had been transferred there by the investment bank he worked for and Duncan and I attended the California International School in Kowloon. I knew that it was now called the American International School; nothing stays the same for long in Hong Kong. Duncan and I were always up to antics of one kind or another; the teachers used to call us as the Kane mutiny.

In those days Hong Kong was still under British administration, but in 1997 it reverted to Chinese sovereignty. To coincide with that momentous event, I knew that a new airport had been constructed. It was named Chek Lap Kok and it was built on reclaimed land on the largest offshore island called Lantau. It replaced the old single-runway airport at Kai Tak which was adjacent to a heavily built-up area in Kowloon and the planes had almost clipped the rooftops of the apartment buildings as they came in to land before the pilot did a swift left turn to line up with the relatively short runway. A couple of planes had overshot the runway over the years and landed in the water, but surprisingly there’d been no other serious accidents.

The new airport was vast, with its cathedral-like arched ceilings, so that even though it was teeming with people it seemed relatively empty. That was until I reached the immigration counters where the line stretched for several hundred feet. It didn’t really matter since it was not yet six in the morning and I wouldn’t be able to check into my hotel until after lunch. I’d lost a day on the journey because Hong Kong was twelve hours ahead of Boston; so although I’d left New York in the early hours of Tuesday morning it was Wednesday morning already in Hong Kong. No matter; I’d reclaim my lost day on the way home. I had no baggage checked in so I zipped through the green channel at customs, past the inscrutable eyes of the customs’ officers, and out into the arrivals hall. I found the ticket counter and purchased a return ticket to Kowloon and then caught the Mass Transit Railway straight to Kowloon, the journey taking just nineteen minutes.

Lucy would be in Manila by now. She’d phoned again when I was at JFK waiting to board my flight. She couldn’t fly direct from Samui to the Philippines, so she’d booked a flight via Bangkok. They wouldn’t let her fly to Manila without a return ticket, but that was okay because she was routed to fly back to the States from Bangkok anyway.

“I’ve always wanted to see Bangkok. I didn’t leave the airport on my way to Phuket so maybe I’ll stop over on my way home,” she said. “Wanna come?”

“Let’s just take this one step at a time, shall we?”

“I’ve booked a cheapish hotel in a district called Ermita in Manila because it’s near the embassy. Call me when you’re on the way. I’m not coming to meet you at the airport; the traffic’s terrible apparently.”

When I came out of the station in Kowloon I took one of the ubiquitous red taxis straight to the hotel. There’s no tipping in Hong Kong I remembered so I just paid the flag fall. The hotel took my small suitcase and gave me a tag. I could check in at twelve, they said, although the usual time was two o’clock. It wasn’t yet eight o’clock so I ate breakfast in the hotel restaurant and then went for a stroll. Apart from the street names the district was unrecognizable to me. The relocation of the airport had removed the need for height restrictions and in place of the buildings that I remembered were skyscrapers. I walked along Nathan Road. The jewelry shops were still there, the windows stacked with jewelry and ornaments of pure twenty-four carat 999 gold. The Sikh security guards were still outside the shops too, with their shotguns prominently displayed in case anyone had any ideas. As I wormed my way along the narrow sidewalks I frequently had to step onto the pavement because of the crowded streets. It was rush hour and everyone was on their way to work, holding their smart phones in front of their faces and apparently negotiating the sidewalks by radar.

The twenty-four hour drinking laws hadn’t changed so I sneaked into a bar for a heart-starter and ordered a cold beer. The sun was nowhere near the yard arm, let alone over it, but it was evening time in Boston and that was good enough for me.

I walked up Nathan Road to Mongkok after my beer, steering my way past slow-walking locals with their heads buried in their smart phones. It was ten o’clock and the shops were opening for their twelve hour stints. I walked into a department store I recognized called Chinese Arts and Crafts which, unsurprisingly, sold Chinese arts and crafts; everything that you associate with China, from intricately carved ivory and colorful ceramics to silk embroidered with traditional Chinese motifs. I thought maybe I should buy something for Lucy but I was on a bit of a tight budget so I went back to the street and located, without difficulty, a man selling fake Luis Vuitton bags. At least I assumed that they were fakes, but the vendor assured me in broken English that they were in fact the genuine articles, although factory rejects because of slight imperfections. I selected a lady’s purse and he challenged me to find the imperfection that had resulted in the purse being sold by a Mongkok street trader rather than Bloomingdale’s. When I failed the challenge I parted with the equivalent of twenty-five dollars and tucked the purse under my arm. No-one was going to call me cheap.

At twelve I went back to the hotel, collected my suitcase and went up to my room. It was on a high floor and the windows faced north towards the hills that separated Kowloon from the New Territories beyond. I could make out the nine peaks that lent their name to the peninsula − Gau Lun in Cantonese, meaning nine dragons. I showered and then had a warm bath. I lay there for a while, adjusting the temperature by controlling the faucet with my toes. It was time to take stock of the situation. I had no idea what I was expected to do in Manila, and I doubted whether Dale was going to be able to pay me much of a fee. I didn’t even know what his last name was yet. Maybe they wouldn’t even let me see him. After all I had no official standing there; I didn’t even have a work visa. I’d need to be Charming Kane if I wanted to make any progress.

The first step was to find out who the victim was; when he was killed and where. Then I’d need to find out what evidence the police had to justify Dale’s arrest. From what Lucy had told me it seemed that he didn’t have a job; I wondered if he had a fixed place to live. Lucy wanted me to get him released from custody, but I wasn’t at all optimistic about that. Maybe John would have some tips for me. He’d have a much better idea of how things worked in the Philippines than me – which wasn’t difficult seeing as how I had no idea at all. John was a police superintendent and I knew he had contacts in the PNP, the Philippine National Police. Maybe he’d be able to pull some strings for me. He’d left a message for me at the hotel desk. He was busy all day but would meet me for dinner; he’d come to the hotel at about seven thirty.

I decided that I’d better make the most of my short stay. The hotel where I was staying was near to the Star Ferry, where a fleet of open-decked boats had been ferrying passengers to and fro across Victoria harbor for decades. It was still hugely popular even though the mass transit had been operating the same route since the seventies. It wasn’t only popular with tourists either; it was very inexpensive and was the preferred form of travel across the harbor for many of the locals. I took the ferry across the harbor to the island. The city was named after its famous harbor: ‘heung gong’ meaning ‘fragrant harbor’. It could hardly be described as fragrant anymore, and the relentless land reclamation had narrowed it considerably over the years, but it was still an impressive sight. Near the terminal was a building with over a thousand circular windows. When I lived in Hong Kong in the eighties it was the tallest building in the Central district. It was called the Connaught Centre then, but Duncan and I used to call it the building of a thousand assholes. It was dwarfed now and surrounded by skyscrapers.

I still remembered the way to the Peak Tram, a funicular railway which had been built in the nineteenth century but was still hauling passengers to the highest point on the island. I walked to the terminus and rode up to the Peak. Like almost everywhere else it had changed substantially, but for the better in this case I thought. There’s a pathway that loops around the Peak which is a haven of tranquility and offers views in every direction. I trod the path that my brother and I had trodden so many years before and then drank a cold beer. For my journey back the lines for the tram were too long so I took the double-decker bus instead that swayed ominously around the tight curves of the roadway back to Central. I hopped on the Star Ferry and headed back to my room.

Lucy called at six. I’d fallen asleep on the bed. She was at the hotel in Manila. Suzie had stayed longer than intended but was leaving early tomorrow to go back to California. She’d been to the embassy and arrangements were being made for someone to see Dale. His full name was Dale M. Porter; Lucy didn’t know what the M stood for. Suzie hadn’t been allowed to see Dale herself yet but was going to give it another go later. The embassy would try to assist.

“Lucy can you get yourself a local sim card? The call roaming’s going to cost a fortune,” I said.

“I already have,” she said. “Look at the caller display.”

I did and she had.

Chapter Three

A Flying Visit

“So it’s just a flying visit then; literally?” John said.

“Yeah, I went sightseeing this afternoon; the Star ferry, the Peak. I couldn’t keep my eyes open when I got back.”

I was sitting with John Carter in the bar on the top floor of the Peninsula Hotel looking out over Victoria Harbor at the twinkling lights of Hong Kong Island. I must be getting old because the flight had left me feeling like I’d gone ten rounds with Jack Dempsey. I hoped I was going to be able to sleep tonight. If necessary, I’d empty the mini bar in my room.

“And you’re off to Manila in the morning?”

“My flight leaves at nine forty-five so I should be at the hotel in Manila by lunchtime. Lucy’s booked a hotel in a place called Ermita, wherever that is. Anyway, she says it’s near the embassy.”

“It’s the former red light district, but it was cleaned up years ago,” John said. “It’s near Manila Bay. Manila’s not the most attractive city in the World but you should get some nice sunsets across the Bay.”

I’d forgotten quite how tall John was, and since the last time I’d seen him his thinning hair had given up the struggle and departed completely leaving a perfectly spherical dome. He was a good three inches taller than me and his height was further accentuated by the mainly diminutive Chinese clientele in the bar.

“So you solved the Rivera case?” he said.

John was referring to a case I’d been investigating back in October. He’d helped me out a bit. Co-incidentally that case had a Philippine connection too.

“Sorry I couldn’t get the cops to play ball, but I understand it worked out okay your end.”

“As well as these things ever do, I guess,” I said.

“Why don’t you bring me up to speed on the new case – who’s been murdered?”

“I’ve no idea at the moment. I’m hoping to get some information from the embassy tomorrow. If I can pass Porter off as my client – that’s his name, Dale Porter – then I’m hopeful they’ll tell me. All I know so far is that the guy was arrested at the airport in Manila after a trip to Thailand. He has no immigration status in the Philippines although he’s lived there for a few years on a tourist visa. I’ve no idea how he makes a living. I don’t know who the deceased is or when or where the death occurred − but it must have been several weeks ago because apparently he’s been out of the country since early November.”

“Well, if you want information in the Philippines you’ll find that baksheesh still oils the wheels pretty effectively over there. As you know, bribery and corruption are endemic in most Asian countries, although not much in Hong Kong since the ICAC was established.”

He was referring to the Independent Commission against Corruption, an independent body set up in 1974 to tackle rampant corruption, with investigative powers the police could only dream about. When I was in Hong Kong in the 1980’s a Chinese classmate told me that the locals reckoned that the initials stood for ‘interfering with Chinese ancient customs’.

“Another thing: if the victim of the killing’s a local you might find things more difficult, but if it’s an expatriate I don’t think the police will have much interest in the matter. They’ll probably be doing no more than going through the motions. Foreigners get killed or disappear all the time in the Philippines, though not as many as in Thailand, and it’s not a priority for the police, especially if the person’s a tourist. Steer clear of lawyers though; they’ll do nothing and they’ll rob you blind.”

“If the police have enough evidence to make a charge what’s the next step?”

“He’ll spend a long time in jail before it gets to court – maybe years. Some prisoners wait more than ten years before the case gets to trial, and the jails are pretty appalling. I visited one in Rizal not long ago — 162 prisoners in a single cell and only twenty-four beds.”

He noticed my look of slight skepticism.

“I’m not kidding,” he said. “You’ll have to test the water. If the evidence is overwhelming there’s probably not much you can do; but you may find that it’s no more than circumstantial. If the evidence is thin, you may be able to get him out of jail if he surrenders his passport; provided he has a fixed place to live and reports to the police station on a regular basis. Between you and me the police there often let foreign suspects out in the hope that they’ll disappear and they won’t need to investigate the case anymore.” He smiled broadly. “In my experience investigations in the Philippines are less than thorough as a rule.”

We had a quiet dinner at a table overlooking the harbor. It was nouveau cuisine so after a few mouthfuls it was gone. By ten I was having difficulty keeping my eyes open.

“Last time we talked you sounded a bit disillusioned with the place,” I said, referring to the city, not the hotel.

“It’s not the same, that’s for sure,” John said. “In the old days when you were here we still had a governor, remember that? Now we have a chief executive who is supposedly elected by Hong Kong people but the truth is that all the candidates are vetted and have to be approved by the Mainland Government. That’s why there’s been all this unrest recently. Poor old Maggie Thatcher would be turning in her grave. She spent years negotiating the agreement for a fifty-year transition period after the handover in 1997. During that time the Mainland Chinese Government promised a high degree of autonomy for Hong Kong but they’ve clearly reneged on that. The local people here may be ethnically Chinese but they have a strong sense of identity as Hong Kongers and there’s a lot of discontent, especially amongst the young. If truth be told most locals don’t even like the Mainlanders. They want true democracy, but they’re never going to get it unfortunately. Did you read about the gaffe made by a current government official recently? He said that if Hong Kong had true democracy then the place would end up being run by the poor people. Hah.”

“Do you plan to stay here after you retire?”

“No, I’ll be going back to England - back to Blighty. You’re probably not familiar with the term, but that’s what we call the old country. I read once that it derives from the days of the British Raj, from an Urdu word meaning British or English.”

John was a mine of information about Britain’s colonial history; maybe because he’d spent most of his life living in one of the last colonial outposts of the British Empire. He was proud, rightly perhaps, of the sound administrations Britain had left her old colonies.

“I think you yearn for the old days, John. When Britain was a great empire.”

“We even owned your lot once,” he said, with a grin.

“I don’t know what we’d have done without you,” I said.

“Did you know the British introduced the rubber tree to Malaysia – or Malaya as it then was? We took some seedlings from South America, nurtured them in Kew Botanical Gardens in London and then transplanted them in Malaya – and now it’s one of the mainstays of their economy. Mind you it wasn’t all good. We got the Chinese hooked on opium to facilitate the tea trade and Captain Cook’s men introduced syphilis to Tahiti. I have to admit we made a bit of a mess of the Middle East too.”

“Well, who knows, maybe we’ll meet up in Blighty one day. I was in London as a student in the early nineties, as you know, but I’d like to see some more of the country sometime. Perhaps you can find me a case to investigate there one day and we could team up again. This is a short and sweet visit though, I’m afraid, John. Maybe I’ll be able to stop over again on the way home, although Lucy is trying to persuade me to fly back via Bangkok with her.”

“When are the two of you going to get it together?”

“We’ve known each other a long time, John, ever since she came to work for me fifteen years ago. I'm a good deal older than her − when we first met she was just out of school and I was in my late twenties − and it was just a working relationship at first. As time passed we became friends, then close friends and then intimate friends. Now we're about as close as two mortals can be, probably because we're rather similar in most ways. Earlier this year I moved to a bungalow just a stone's throw from Lucy's place and since then we've obviously seen a lot more of each other. We're very fond of each other, but neither of us is the marrying kind − I think we both value our independence too much, and we like our own space. She puts up with me and helps me organize my life − and I let her. And she makes me laugh, and helps me in ways too numerous to mention. That’s about it really, although I can't imagine a life without her.”

“Last of the old romantics, eh?” John said.

“It’s what we both feel comfortable with I guess, John. It's who we are. Neither of us is the kind to wear our heart on our sleeve, but that doesn't mean we don't care for and appreciate each other. It might seem unusual to others, but as Lucy says, ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’. We're comfortable as we are and I’ve no doubt we're going to grow old together. And you know?” I said, “I wonder how many couples who drift apart, separate or divorce might have stayed together if they'd just allowed each other a little more space.”

We chatted for a while longer about times gone by and times ahead. From what I gathered John’s imminent retirement couldn’t come soon enough for him. I struggled to keep my eyelids from drooping but John could see I was fighting a losing battle. He was having none of it though.

“What you’re feeling isn’t ordinary tiredness, Kane; it’s jet lag. If you go to bed now you won’t have a relaxing sleep. I’ll take you for a steam bath and a massage.”

“It’s good of you, John, but I’ve got to get to the airport early tomorrow.” It was a halfhearted kind of protest.

“I’m about to retire. Compared to me you’re just a boy. When I was your age I routinely went without sleep for two, sometimes three days in a row. Anyway, your flight’s not that early and you can check in online. You won’t need to leave the hotel until eight at the earliest. Six hours’ sleep is all you’re going to need, trust me.”

I shrugged and went for my wallet. “It’s your turf,” I said, “so you’re the boss.”

“The meal and drinks were on me,” John said. “I paid the check while you were in the restroom.” He ducked out of there and I followed.

Back in the nineties when I briefly worked undercover for a drugs operation in Hong Kong and John was the senior inspector in overall charge of the investigation we would routinely visit the huge ostentatious night clubs which abounded in the Tsim Sha Tsui district of Kowloon where my hotel was situated. Each of the clubs, like Club Volvo or China City, employed over a thousand hostesses who would chat to customers for US$40 per fifteen-minute unit of time. The girls were available as escorts, so the clubs were little more than fronts for prostitution, and the clientele were mainly gangsters and the nouveau riche to whom such ostentatious vulgarity was a magnet. The clubs were vast and ferried the VIPs to their tables in miniature Rolls Royce’s. There was a latent violence in those places. You felt you were in the presence of people who would do something unpleasant to you if you looked at them in the wrong way, as if you were in one of those Jackie Chan movies when everything is about to explode around you. Those dinosaurs were a product of the eighties and they’d all disappeared now. It was no great loss.

John steered me to an up-market massage parlor where we had a sauna and steam bath followed by a dip in the ice-cold plunge-pool. Dressed in shorts and bathrobes we moved to the sitting area where a range of drinks and snacks were served and we watched a Cantonese gangster movie whilst having manicures, pedicures, foot-scrubs and Hopi ear candling. I reminded my host that Hopi ear candling was something the US had given to the world – courtesy of our Native Americans of course. He laughed.

“Is that the best you can come up with?” he said.

Finally, we were escorted to a massage room where we lay on adjacent tables and had girls walking up and down our backs, digging heels and toes into our spines and then manually manipulating and massaging our limbs, one by one. My masseuse was nicknamed ‘Fan Shu’ she told me, and it meant sweet potato; I could believe it. It was a two-hour experience but I dozed off after half an hour. When I woke up I felt like a million dollars. We went to the Four Sisters, a nearby bar, to spend some of it and had whiskeys and beer chasers. At a quarter before two John decided to release me.

“It’s always good to catch up with you Kane. Let me know if you think I can help in any way with your new assignment, and try to drop in on your way home. Better if you can give me a bit more notice next time. I could arrange a junk trip, like the old days.”

We walked the short distance back to my hotel and said adios. “Say Hi to Lucy for me − maybe I’ll get to meet her one of these days,” Carter said, as he closed the taxi door and headed home. At least I hoped he was going home.

I slept like a baby, except that I didn’t wake up crying or wet the bed, and I was back to my old self by the time my alarm sounded. I never use an alarm at home, but I’d had serious doubts about whether my body clock was in proper working order. I showered and shaved and was on the train to the airport by eight fifteen; by nine I was sitting in the terminal building by the departure gate. It would take about two hours to get to Manila, and maybe another hour and a half to go through the airport formalities and take a cab to the hotel. It was colder than I expected. The outside temperature was fourteen degrees but the air conditioning everywhere was still on full blast so I dug the linen jacket out of my suitcase and put it on. I called Lucy and asked her to make an appointment for us to see the embassy staff. She was still in bed.

I considerably underestimated the traveling time from Manila airport to the hotel and on numerous occasions during the journey I thought I was more likely to end up in a hospital or morgue, but at least the taxi driver knew where the hotel was. The small hotel Lucy had selected was on the waterfront. We had a two-room suite with a balcony looking out over Manila Bay. Lucy was looking tanned and ridiculously healthy and showed no sign of the stress and anxiety I’d expected. For a moment I wondered if the whole thing had been an elaborate ruse to get me there on a false pretext.

“How was Hong Kong?”

“A bit of a blur,” I said. “How was Phuket?”

“Well I didn’t stay there long. I met Suzie and Dale and we flew to Koh Samui.”

“I suppose you’re no nearer finding out about what all this is about?”

“Sorry, not much. When Dale was arrested they wouldn’t let Suzie near him, and when she saw the embassy staff they were rather non-committal. But last night they let Suzie see him at the jail and she was able to get him to sign this.”

She handed me a piece of paper. On it was a handwritten note: ‘I, Dale M. Porter, hereby appoint Mark W. Kane to investigate the circumstances of my arrest. Please co-operate with him fully on my behalf’. Underneath were Dale’s signature and passport number and yesterday’s date.

“There was no need to include the W in my name, just because Dale’s got an M.”

“I thought it looked more impressive,” she said.

“Anyway, that should be sufficient for the embassy at least. With a bit of luck, it’ll help with the police too. I don’t want to sound unduly mercenary, but do you think Porter will be able to pay for any of this?”

Lucy smiled up at me. “I dunno; but if not I expect you’ll get your reward in heaven.”

I grabbed her waist and tickled her until she begged me to stop. Then we went downstairs and found a restaurant for a late lunch. I gave Lucy the spoils of my brief visit to Mongkok the previous day.

“Is it…”

“It’s a genuine one,” I said truthfully, relying on the assurance I’d received from the vendor; “the real McCoy.”

“And it’s not even my birthday. It’s lovely, thanks. I brought you something from Thailand,” she said.

“Oh, really, where is it?”

“It’s here.”

I looked around vacantly. “What is it?” I said.

“Me,” she beamed.

Chapter Four

Westlake

“I’ll tell you what I know and you can judge for yourself,” Westlake said torpidly.

I was sitting in an office in the U.S. Embassy in Manila. Opposite me was James Westlake who had been assigned to look after the interests of Dale Porter. Westlake was a tall man with a thin body which made him appear even taller. He had a long, languid face, and when he spoke his mouth hardly opened and his lips barely moved. None of the other muscles in his face moved at all which gave him the appearance of a man who had been heavily Botoxed. He was leaning back in his chair; his legs stretched under the desk that divided us were crossed at the ankles and his eyes were fixed about an inch over the top of my head.

“The dead man is apparently Larry Sands. I say apparently because his identity hasn’t been conclusively established yet. Mr. Sands is, or was, an American citizen. He settled in the Philippines about three or four years ago. He married a local girl named Cary Rodriguez; Cary Sands as she now is. They lived together near Subic. You may have heard of Subic, it’s where we used to have a naval base. It was vacated about twenty-five years ago, just after Mount Pinatubo erupted and left everything covered in ash, and Subic is now known as a Special Economic Zone; that’s a zone established to encourage overseas investment by offering foreign corporations tax incentives.”

Westlake lowered his gaze to meet my eyes momentarily to see if I was following his story, then he placed them over the top of my head again.

“Mrs. Sands owns the house where they lived, although it appears that the money used to purchase the house was provided by Mr. Sands. The house is worth about a hundred and fifty thousand dollars I’m told. In the Philippines it’s not permitted for a foreigner to own land so the property is in her name. About two or three months ago Mr. Sands was reported missing by his wife. It’s not uncommon for foreigners to disappear — sometimes for lengthy periods of time and sometimes forever. The Philippines is a big country and it’s also a country that is easy to enter or leave without going through official channels. I am told that his disappearance was investigated by the police to no effect. From my experience I doubt if the investigation was other than a cursory one. About two weeks ago a body, or what was left of it, was pulled out of the sea near Olongapo, a City to the north of Subic. It was the body of a Caucasian male, aged about thirty to thirty-five. It was in a very advanced state of decomposition. The medical examiner at Subic estimated from the state of the corpse that it had probably been in the water for at least thirty-five to forty days. It was mostly skeletonized and there were no items of jewelry such as a watch, rings and suchlike to assist in the identification of the body. However, when the medical examiner removed the shoes from the corpse he found a driving license. It had been tucked under the sole of the deceased’s foot. The license was in the name of Mr. Sands. The height and build of the deceased were found to match those of Mr. Sands, and Mrs. Sands purported to make a positive identification of her husband, although upon what basis I’ve no idea.” Westlake lowered his eyes again to meet my gaze.

“Are you with me so far Mr. Kane?”

“Yes, but I assume there’s more. Why is Mr. Porter suspected of his murder? In fact was the medical examiner able to establish that the deceased was murdered, rather than the victim of an accident or a suicide?”

Westlake gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head. “Good question; both good questions.” His eyes fixed on something over the top of my head again.

“The cause of death couldn’t be established due to the decomposition of the body. He may have drowned or he may have been dead before he entered the water. Mr. Sands had a boat which he moored in Olongapo; it was called the Sally Anne; it was a motor cruiser. It wasn’t an expensive boat; Mr. Sands used it for fishing. At the time Mr. Sands went missing the boat went missing too. By co-incidence, it seems, at about the time the body was recovered from the sea – that’s about two weeks ago, the boat was discovered in a different mooring. It was in Subic. The mooring was leased to Mr. Porter. The name of the boat had been painted over, but it was the same boat. After finding the boat the police made inquiries and discovered that the two men knew each other and had some kind of business dealings, possibly relating to a bar in Ologapo which has since closed down. So the two questions you asked are really connected.”

“So the boat is the key to both the death and the arrest as far as the police are concerned? The assumption is that if Porter has Sand’s boat and apparently sought to disguise it by painting over the name it’s likely that Porter is responsible for Sands’ death?”

“That seems to be about the size of it, yeah; as far as the police are concerned.”

“Do you know if Porter has been questioned about any of this?”

“I’m not permitted details of the police investigation. As you know our remit is quite limited in these cases. We can do little more than make sure that Porter is being well treated. We can help to put him in touch with his family if we’re able to locate them. We may be able to assist him in obtaining legal representation in due course.”

“I wonder if you can help me with another matter. Do you happen to know what the two men’s source of income was?”

“I have no idea. Neither was legally permitted to work, because neither had a work visa. Of course many foreigners do work in various ways without troubling to get a visa. They may teach unofficially or provide boat charters for tourists for example. A number of foreigners are known to invest in businesses that are run by locals – bars usually, but any kind of business is possible. Although Sands was married to a local girl he didn’t obtain citizenship as a result. He could have applied for citizenship but he would’ve needed to relinquish his American Citizenship first. That’s not a viable option for most men in his position.”

A thin smile almost imperceptibly widened Westlake’s mouth but disappeared again in an instant.

“However, as a result of his marriage he could have applied for residence. Had he done that and completed certain formalities then he would have been able to work, but he never took that step. I believe that’s all I can tell you. The driving license in the deceased’s shoe is a bit of a mystery, but it does tend to confirm the identity of the corpse. There’s one other matter that I can alert you to, strictly off the record.”

“I’d be grateful for anything.”

“Well you’re the detective, but you may think it’s rather unusual for a body to be recovered without a wristwatch or, in the case of Sands, without a wedding band, unless he was robbed before his death of course, which is always a possibility. The fact is that the body was found by fisherman after it accidentally got caught in their nets. A decent watch or a gold ring would be quite a find for a fisherman. I wouldn’t be surprised if those sorts of items were removed from the body before the police were informed. A trip around the local pawn shops might turn something up. It’s just a thought.”

I walked back to the hotel to discuss with Lucy what I’d learned from Westlake. I’d need to see Porter as soon as possible to see what his explanation was for the boat since it was the only thing which apparently linked him to the disappearance and death of Sands. Lucy was lying on the bed. She was wearing an eye mask of the type that the airlines provide. She told me that under the mask there was a slice of cucumber over each of her eyes. I had no reason to doubt what she told me.

“I think we’re going to have to do some traveling, Lucy. The body’s apparently that of a man called Sands, although the identification isn’t conclusive. The body was found in the sea near a place called Olongapo. Apparently Sands was married to a local girl who lives between Olongapo and a place called Subic. Westlake thinks that the body may have been relieved of certain items of identifying jewelry by the fishermen who found it. I think it’s important to see if he’s right. If those items were taken they were most likely sold or pawned locally. If we can locate them it may confirm the identification of the corpse or it may point to a different identity altogether. On the other hand if those items were taken from Sands before or at the time of his death then it may point to the murderer.”

“What evidence have they got linking Porter to the death of this guy Sands?”

“Sands’ boat was found in a mooring leased by Porter. The boat disappeared at the same time that Sands did. And the name of the boat had been painted over, apparently to disguise it.”

“Oh,” said Lucy. “That doesn’t look too good.”

“Porter may have a perfectly rational explanation for it. I need to talk to him. I intend to try and see him tomorrow. I’ll need to contact Sands’ wife too. Apparently Sands and Porter were believed to have some kind of business connection; I want to ask her about the boat too.”

“Where does she live?”

“Near Subic. Westlake showed me on a map. Fortunately, Subic and Olongapo are quite close to each other. I must talk to Porter before we go there though.”

“Did you find out anything else from Westlake?”

“Yes, something which may be of considerable importance. When the dead man was found he was wearing shoes of some sort. When the medical examiner was examining the body he removed the shoes and found the driving license of Sands inside one of the shoes, tucked under the sole of his foot.”

“How creepy.”

“It’s a pretty unusual place to carry a driving license, and it got me thinking. The medical examiner couldn’t determine the cause of death because the body was too badly decomposed. He could have drowned – in which case it could have been an accident or murder − or even a suicide. But he might have been killed before he was put in the water. If he’d been stabbed for example the absence of tissue due to the decomposition would have destroyed the evidence. He could have been poisoned, drugged, suffocated or killed in ways which would not be apparent in an autopsy of an almost skeletonized body.”

“Okay, I follow all that, but why the license in the shoe?” Lucy said.

“Well, suppose he was killed, and suppose the killer wanted to conceal his victim’s identity. The killer would know that it was unlikely that the body would be found quickly, since the body was apparently dumped quite far from the shore, so visual identification wouldn’t be a problem. But the killer would remove any items of jewelry such as the watch or the wedding band in case the body was later found. So maybe when the fishermen found the body those items had already been removed by the killer.”

“And the license?” Lucy said.

“I think it may be a clue that the dead man left behind on purpose.”

“How… Why?”

“Listen: If you knew someone was going to kill you, and you knew there was nothing you could do to prevent it, what would be the next most important thing you’d try to do?”

“Make sure the killer was caught and punished?”

“Right; suppose Sands knew he was going to be killed. He would have figured out that there’d be an attempt to conceal his identity by the killer after his death. So he slips his driving license into his shoe so that when the body is found his identity will be discovered.”

“Wow, that’s some theory. It’s a bit far-fetched isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so. If a body is found but can’t be identified, then the killer is safe. But once the identity of the body is known then it’s often only a matter of time before the trail leads to his killer. Most people that are murdered are killed by someone they know.”

“I told you,” said Lucy.

“Told me what?”

“That you’d know what to do.” She said.

Chapter Five

My New Assistant

We took our breakfast at the hotel because it was included in the price. It was included in the price because there was virtually nothing to eat. That suited Lucy because her beach holiday had convinced her that she needed to shed a few pounds. As we lined up in front of the pitiful buffet table I said, “I don’t know why you need to diet. I don’t diet and I’m not an ounce overweight.”

Lucy stood behind me and slapped her hands against the layer of accumulated fat that was gathering around my hips. It was a product of aging which I’d hitherto failed to notice.

“What’s this then?” she said.

“Those Lucy,” I said, “are my love handles.”

Over breakfast I told Lucy that I had an important announcement to make concerning her role in the investigation, bearing in mind that it was really her case. Her eyes widened and she leaned over the table towards me. With her elbows on the table she cupped her hands under her chin and smiled in anticipation.

“Since your secretarial duties are not required for the time being I have decided, as a temporary measure, to deputize you. For the duration of this trip, but only for the duration of this trip, I am elevating you to the position of my assistant investigator. Your duties will comprise anything that I deem necessary in the furtherance of this particular enterprise,” I said.

“And if I discharge those duties diligently,” said Lucy, “the position will be formalized on our return home.”

“Not only is the position a temporary one, you will not be permitted, on our return home, to mention this pro tem appointment to anyone. That includes gossiping to your girlfriends. Insubordination will result in immediate reduction in rank and possible outright dismissal.”

Lucy made a face at me.

“Your first duty in this new capacity will be to accompany me to Police Headquarters to arrange a meeting with Dale.”

“Awesome,” said Lucy.

“The headquarters is in United Nations Avenue, not a million miles from where we are now sitting. Kindly get your hat and coat – or shorts and shades. Tardiness will not be tolerated,” I said.

Westlake had helpfully provided a letter of introduction for me to tender to a superintendent named Vicente Santos. “Best to go straight to the top,” he said.

Santos was a small man, as neat and as clean as the perfectly pressed uniform that clothed him. His head was exactly the same shape as an ostrich egg and as hairless as one too. He was unexpectedly accommodating. His attitude may not have been totally unconnected with Lucy’s outspoken approval of everything from his uniform to the cleanliness of the washrooms. She wasn’t wearing a bra either; that was my idea.

“I can arrange for the prisoner to be brought here if you like,” he said.

We did like and so we were asked to come back at two thirty. Perhaps in the meantime we’d like a tour of the headquarters?

“We’d feel privileged, wouldn’t we Kane?” Lucy enthused before I had a chance to open my mouth. A junior officer was summoned who proudly led us through endless corridors and let us peek into countless rooms where, to all intents and purposes, nothing appeared to be happening. We ate our lunch in the police canteen, which I hoped wasn’t going to be one of the highlights of the trip.

At two-thirty we were provided with a private room in which to conduct our interview with Dale. He was already in the room when we entered, looking none the worse for wear but clearly nervous.

“God Lucy, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you. Did Suzie catch her flight okay? I’m sorry this is a real bummer.”

Lucy introduced Dale to me.

“Geez, I can’t believe it. I don’t know what to say. Lucy told us all about you Mr. Kane, and now I get to meet you in the flesh. Awesome. Lucy says you’re a legend back home.”

“Lucy’s prone to flights of fancy and a good deal of exaggeration,” I said.

I thought it was an appropriate time to raise the matter of my fee, but Lucy must have read my mind and gave me a sharp kick on the ankle under the table. I was having second thoughts about deputizing her already. I got straight to the point.

“I assume you know why you’ve been arrested,” I said.

“Yeah, they told me. It’s because of the boat.”

“You want to tell me about that?”

“Sure, Larry sold it to me. Well not exactly sold it. It’s a long story but I’ll try and keep it brief. Larry and I both invested in a bar in Olongapo. It was only a small place, but we figured we’d get sufficient out of it to live comfortably enough here. But at the time we had to front up with the money he couldn’t come up with the whole of his share so I lent some of it to him. I mean we were supposed to put up twenty thousand dollars each, that’s nearly a million pesos. I put up thirty thousand because he could only come up with ten. He was supposed to pay me back, but business in the bar wasn’t as good as we thought it’d be and Larry had a lot of financial problems at that time so he couldn’t reimburse me. What we’d invested was only part of it, though; we were supposed to put in another ten grand each after all the licenses were in place. Larry didn’t have it and I couldn’t afford to sub him again. Eventually the bar had to close and we both lost most of our investment, but Larry still owed me the bread. In the end I agreed to take the boat instead.”

It was a plausible enough story, I thought, but he’d had a while to come up with it.

“Do you have any way of proving it? Was there an agreement in writing?”

“There wasn’t anything in writing except the receipt. I gave him a receipt saying something like I accepted the boat in full settlement, or something like that; I can’t remember the exact words. It was for Larry’s benefit in case I came after him for the loan again sometime in the future.”

It sounded a little too pat; a little too convenient. If Larry was dead, there was only Dale’s word to prove that there’d ever been such a transaction.

“According to Westlake from the embassy Cary told the police that when Larry disappeared she discovered his boat was missing. I haven’t checked with the police yet, but if that’s the case it suggests that Cary didn’t know about Larry transferring the boat to you.”

“I’m sure he must have told her. She knew all about the problems with the bar. She knew I’d lent money to Larry and that he couldn’t pay me back.”

“So if we talk to Cary you reckon she’ll confirm it?”

“Why wouldn’t she? It’s the truth.”

“Well Lucy and I will go and see her tomorrow or the day after if we can get hold of her. Do you have her address or phone number?”

“I’ve got both. If you’ve got a pen and paper, I’ll write them down for you. I really appreciate your help Mr. Kane. Once I get out of this place I’ll see you alright.”

That was music to my ears. Things seemed to be looking up. Perhaps my reservations about traveling out east had been misplaced.

“Where were you when Larry went missing, Dale?” I said.

“That’s kind of hard to say.”

I raised my eyebrows in query.

“I mean I’m not sure exactly when it was that he went missing. It wasn’t like he’d got a nine-to-five job. Sometimes he’d come down to Manila, or go to Clark to meet friends. Or he might go as far as Puerto Galera. He may have been away from Cary for a while before she realized something was wrong. You’ll need to ask her about that.”

“Was there any particular reason that you painted over the name of the boat after you got it?”

“Not really. I was trying to come up with a new name.”

“Do you have any theories about who might have killed Larry?”

“Larry and me were in the bar thing together but I’m sure he had other deals going. Maybe he crossed somebody or got them pissed. The Philippines is a pretty lawless place. If somebody gets pissed with you they’re liable to shoot first and ask questions later. There were some local partners in the bar who lost quite a bit of money; maybe Larry’s disappearance is connected with that. Maybe it was an accident; maybe he just drowned.”

“He was pretty far out in the bay when he was found. He didn’t have his boat any more – how would he have got out there?”

“I don’t have any idea. To be honest I haven’t had much time to think about it. When I left for Thailand he was still missing. I didn’t even know that he was dead until I was arrested.”

“And when did you go to Thailand?”

“I left here on the fifth of November. I was only planning to be away for a few days, but then I met Suzie so I stayed longer. What is it now, the twenty eighth?”

“Where do you live when you’re in the Philippines Dale?”

“I don’t have a house or apartment. I was staying at a hotel near Subic before I left. I’ve got some stuff stashed here in Manila with a friend, in Mandaluyong. I sometimes stay there when he’s away and look after the place for him.”

“Okay Dale, that just about wraps things up for today. We’ll go to Subic tomorrow and see if we can talk to Cary. If she’s able to confirm what you’ve told us today it will help, but she’d need to explain why she told the police the boat was missing. If she can locate the receipt you gave Larry amongst his things then we should have you out of here soon, I guess. Meanwhile, you better sit tight and enjoy the free accommodation.”

“Thanks again Mr. Kane. I hope to see you again real soon. You too Lucy; break a leg, huh?”

After the meeting I asked to see Santos again. He was busy for a while I was told, but if I cared to wait…

We waited for almost an hour but were still Santos-less. Lucy wanted to go shopping.

“We’re near the Mall of Asia. I looked it up. I haven’t had a chance to see any of the malls. I’m still officially on vacation, you know.”

“Lucy we’ll have the rest of the afternoon. I need to talk to Santos; there are a few matters I want to clear up.”

“You reckon Dale will be okay, Kane; provided Cary confirms his story?”

“It looks like it at the moment, but I want to keep an open mind. We’ll go to Subic tomorrow and stay until at least Monday because I want to try and get an appointment with the medical examiner there. We may have to stay longer because I want to go to Olongapo too to find out what I can about the bar that Dale says they invested in. But the first stop will be Cary. Let’s see what she has to say for herself.”

“What do you want to ask Santos?”

“There are some things I want to check, but I also need his assistance. I want to see the medical examiner in Subic. I don’t like hearing things second hand. And I may want to check Sands’ bank account. I can’t do these things without co-operation from the authorities. I want to see if Santos can give me some kind of letter of introduction, or some kind of authority to make these inquiries. Santos seems to like you so I want you to stay here and flutter your eyelashes or whatever it is that ladies do to flirt.”

“You mean you want me to flaunt my womanly wiles?”

“Something like that,” I said.

Santos reappeared just after four and escorted us to his office.

“Was your meeting satisfactory?”

“Yes thank you. I appreciate your co-operation. I wish the police where I come from were so helpful.”

Santos beamed proudly. “If there’s anything else I can help with please let me know.”

“There are a couple of things I’d like to ask you now if you have the time.”

“My time is yours. Luckily when you get to my rank there’s little more to do than delegate. I’ve been at a briefing this afternoon, that’s why I had to keep you waiting I’m afraid.”

“Can you tell me a little about the police investigation so far? I mean if Porter turns out to be unconnected with the murder I wonder if you have any other leads.”

“Well as you may imagine I haven’t been involved in this investigation myself. If you want me to tell you what has been done I’ll have to get the file. I’m afraid you’ll need to come back later, perhaps about six to six thirty,” he looked at his watch. “No, better make it seven,” he said, “that should give me enough time.”

We agreed to return and left the building to look for a taxi. As we climbed into the vehicle Lucy instructed the driver to take us to the Mall of Asia. The Mall of Asia was the biggest shopping mall in Manila, which was a city full of shopping malls, many interlinked so Lucy told me. The Mall of Asia was near the bay, not far from our hotel. When we were dropped outside I noticed with some trepidation that it was teeming with shoppers. We were frisked by security guards as we entered. I was patted down in a manner so superficial that I could have been concealing an armory. Lucy had to open her purse and a female security guard raked around inside it with something that looked like a chopstick.

Inside, the mall looked pretty much the same as any other mall anywhere. There were shops with names that I’d never heard of but surprisingly many of the international chains were in evidence too. I wondered how the locals could afford to shop there. Near the entrance was a French bakery. Lucy sat me down and suggested I could have a coffee and wait for her because I’d be a grouch if I went with her. She’d just have a quick look around and she’d be back and we’d have something to eat. We’d hardly touched the food in the canteen. Then she abandoned me.

I knew Lucy well enough to know that I’d have a good hour to play with, probably more, and so after my coffee I went for a look around too. I found a barber’s shop and had a shampoo and a haircut. A head and neck massage was included in the price which helped to pass the time. There was clearly a fast-growing middle class in Manila. The place was thronged with shoppers and the prices were nowhere near as cheap as I’d expected; in fact they seemed to be pretty much on a par with the prices back home. There were dozens of restaurants including some familiar names and some not so familiar. They were uniformly busy even though it was still relatively early. There was an auditorium where a beauty contest was about to take place, and play areas for the kids. Music blared out at a volume verging on the uncomfortable and together with the babble of voices the noise bounced off the ceramic floors and ricocheted around the walls before unsuccessfully trying to escape through the high ceilings.

Everywhere I went I was handed brochures for condominiums that were either built or being built or about to be built. Home ownership was a big deal now in the Philippines at prices that were easily affordable to an average middle class family. The law restricting the buying of land to locals was preventing the escalation of prices to the obscene levels in places like Hong Kong, Macau and Singapore.

Lucy trudged back to the coffee shop about an hour and a half after she’d left me, surprisingly bereft of shopping. The prices were higher than she’d been expecting and there wasn’t much that she’d seen that she couldn’t buy at home. That was a relief. We wouldn’t have to hire a truck when we left for Subic. We found an Italian restaurant. Lucy wanted to try local food but I put my foot down.

“You can do that later. I won’t need you to come back with me to the headquarters this evening. I’ll see you back at the hotel. You can shop or sight-see to your heart’s content this afternoon. Or poison yourself with the local cuisine if you like.”

“You don’t need my female charms anymore to prize whatever information you need out of Santos?”

“I’m giving you the rest of the day off. It’s official.”

It was too early to see Santos and Lucy wanted to use the hotel Wi-fi to get some inspiration. Interesting as Manila was, there didn’t seem like a great deal for the tourist to actually do. While pondering this, my brain selected an old memory for no particular reason, as brains sometimes do. It was of a television interview with the late British actor Jack Hawkins. He’d featured in a movie called ‘The Pharaoh’ early in his career and the interviewer asked him if the dialogue had been a problem, since no-one knew how a Pharaoh would speak. “The main problem wasn’t the dialogue,” Jack said. “The real problem was that no-one knew what a Pharaoh actually did.”

After a fairly swift meal we walked back along the bay to our hotel. Manila is a sprawling city which is hard to get about by taxi without putting your life in their hands and the traffic congestion was mind-numbing. I’d found out on my journey from the airport that there were simply no rules on the road. It was every car, truck, jeepney or bicycle-rickshaw for itself. The walk to the hotel was a lot longer than it looked and by the time we got there it was almost time for my meeting with Santos.

Chapter Six

The Investigation

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late,” I said. “We went to the mall and then I had to walk Lucy back to the hotel. I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you in any way.”

Santos sat opposite me and smiled, revealing some gold crowns which I hadn’t noticed before. “Not at all, Mister Kane,” he said. Before him was a thin manila folder which he opened to reveal a few sheets of paper. The reports were handwritten in a language I presumed was Tagalog. Santos read them, slowly turning the pages.

“There’s not very much I’m afraid. The first entry simply relates a report by Mrs. Sands that her husband was missing. His boat was missing too. Underneath the entry it says ‘Follow up’. That entry is dated the fifteenth of September. I’m afraid it doesn’t go any further than that, so I can’t tell you whether it was followed up or not. If it was then I imagine it amounted to talking to local people in bars over a beer.” He looked up at me and smiled benignly.

“This sort of case doesn’t justify a National investigation,” he said. “Mr. Sands is a foreigner and a grown man. Unless there was evidence that something sinister had happened I doubt anything much would have been done. There’s a file on the finding of the body in the sea which we’re fairly sure was that of Mr. Sands. The body was brought ashore by some local fishermen on the fourteenth of November. The report says that there were no means of identifying the body. It was taken to the medical examiner in Subic. A driving license was found by the medical examiner on the fifteenth of November. Mrs. Sands identified the body as that of her husband on the following day. Then there’s a report about the finding of a boat which belonged to Mr. Sands. It was berthed near Subic. It was apparently identified as Sands’ boat by a foreigner who recognized it. The foreigner’s name is Mr. Hendriks, and there’s an address in Subic SEZ. That’s Subic Special Economic Zone. The finding of the boat was reported on November nineteen, a little more than a week ago. It was in a berth leased by Mr. Porter. There’s a note that his immigration record was checked and he’d left Philippines on November fifth. An alert was issued in case he returned to the Philippines. He was arrested on the twenty fourth at the airport in Manila. And that’s it. There’s nothing more at the moment.”

Santos closed the file and looked up at me again.

“Since Mr. Porter was arrested has he been questioned? Is there any statement or written record of interview?”

“Mr. Porter declined to be interviewed until he met with staff from the U.S. Embassy. A meeting was arranged and Mr. Porter met with a representative from the Embassy on Wednesday night. I know that because it was dealt with by me personally. A Mr. Westlake came to see him and I also explained the reasons for Mr. Porter’s arrest. There’s no record of an interview with Mr. Porter since then so I suppose nobody’s got around to it yet, or perhaps it will take some time for Mr. Porter to arrange for a lawyer.”

“But Mr. Porter was told the reason for his arrest I understand?”

“Of course; that would have been done at the airport before he was handed over for further processing.”

“Could I have the address of Mr. Hendriks and his phone number if possible? I’d like to talk to him.”

Santos handed me the file. Peter Hendriks’ address was written in English and there was a cell phone number. I copied both down in my own notebook.

“Can you tell me what Mr. Sands’ immigration status was? I understand he was married here in the Philippines to Mrs. Sands.”

“He and Mrs. Sands were married about thirteen months before he was found in the sea. He could have applied for permanent residence on the basis of that marriage but apparently he never did.”

“What benefits would that have given him?”

“If he was made a permanent resident then he would have been able to stay in the Philippines indefinitely. He’d also have been permitted to work. He wouldn’t have been able to purchase or own land though. That right is reserved for Filipinos by the constitution.”

“Is there any reason why he wouldn’t have applied?”

“I really couldn’t say, but the marriage itself wouldn’t have been enough; there are other requirements. For example, he would have had to establish that he had no criminal record either here or elsewhere. He’d also have to submit to a medical examination to establish that he was not afflicted with any dangerous, contagious or loathsome disease.” He smiled. “I’m quoting from the Immigration regulations themselves. And there’s a requirement that he has a certain amount of savings, and sufficient means to support a family so that he didn’t become a public burden. Again those are the words used in the immigration rules. I’m not sure what the figure is at the moment, but it’s not a great deal. About ten thousand US dollars I think.”

“But since he hadn’t applied for residence he would have been subject to the same rules as a tourist?”

“Yes, he would need to apply for periodic extensions of stay or to leave and re-enter the Philippines. An immigration check has been made. There’s no record of Mr. Sands doing either of these things since he was reported missing in mid-September.”

“Has a check been made on Porter’s immigration movements prior to November fifth?”

“He was absent from the Philippines between the first to the seventh of October. The immigration records don’t show where he went obviously. He was also away for a similar period in early September. There’s nothing unusual in that. He would need to leave every thirty days unless he got an extension from the Immigration Department. Mr. Porter is simply permitted to stay as a tourist for thirty days at a time without the need to apply for a visa.”

“I need to ask you a favor Superintendent. I’m anxious to speak to the medical examiner at Subic and possibly to the local police. In order to assure their cooperation, I wonder if you could supply me with a letter of introduction. You know − that I’m representing the interests of Mr. Porter but I’m also keen to investigate the death itself. Given time and access to people with the relevant information I may be able to establish that Larry’s death was no more than an accident. Alternatively, if he was murdered, I may be able to discover who was responsible. I won’t be in anybody’s way and I might turn up something for the police to look into. I’m an experienced investigator and I have the time.”

“I expect the police in Olongapo would welcome any help they can get if it saves them expending their own time and effort.” Santos chuckled in the manner of a schoolboy who’d just been shown a lewd picture. “Just give me few minutes.”

I arrived back at the hotel just before eight o’clock. Lucy was nowhere to be seen. It was warm and humid. I went up to the rooftop where there was a swimming pool, but the pool was closed for renovation. It looked as if it had been closed for renovation for some time, perhaps forever. I went back to the room and waited for Lucy, turning over in my mind what I’d learned from Santos.

I’d made some notes while Santos was going through the reports. One of the things I’d written down with a big question mark was the report made by Mrs. Sands about the disappearance of her husband. The report had stated: ‘His boat was missing too’. Why would Cary have told the police that Larry’s boat was missing if she knew that he’d transferred ownership of the boat to Porter? And yet Dale had seemed certain that Cary would confirm that this was so. Perhaps it wasn’t so. Perhaps it was a bluff on Dale’s part. If Cary claimed to know nothing about the transfer of the boat when I had the chance to talk to her Dale could simply explain it away by saying that perhaps Larry hadn’t told his wife about it. Lucy was already convinced of Dale’s innocence, but I preferred to keep an open mind.

Lucy bounced in soon after eight and announced that she was starving. There was a large seafood restaurant I’d passed about five blocks from the hotel. It was called Josephine’s and I vaguely remembered seeing some reference to it in Lucy’s Lonely Planet guidebook which I’d been leafing through earlier in the day. I suggested we try it; it would satisfy Lucy’s craving for local food and we were bound to find at least something palatable. It was a pleasantly cool evening. I was surprised; I’d always thought of Manila as the tropics and hadn’t appreciated that it would be this cool in winter.

Josephine’s turned out to be a good choice. It was one of those rare occasions that a meal could accurately be described as sumptuous. After dinner we strolled back to the hotel and discussed our travel details for the following day.

“I’ve looked it up,” said my new temporary assistant. Lucy had her tablet connected to the Wi-fi in the hotel room and had been researching our travel itinerary for tomorrow.

“If we go all the way by road it’ll take us about five hours. We have to drive to Angeles City in a province called Pampanga, which takes about an hour or two, depending on the traffic, and then take the highway to Subic which takes about another hour. But the problem is that it can take up to two hours just to get to the outskirts of Metro Manila if the traffic’s bad – and the traffic always seems to be bad. So it’s better if we fly to Clark airport, which is near Angeles City, and then take a one hour drive to Subic from there.”

“Okay, let’s do that then.”

“Can we leave in the afternoon tomorrow?” Lucy said. “There are still some things I want to see here, and we have the hotel until twelve. Then we can fly to Clark and maybe stay there overnight and go on to Subic the next day. That way we get to see more places and it’ll be less tiring.” She looked at me plaintively. I folded. At least that’s what she thought. As it happened I was going to need another morning in Manila anyway; there was something I wanted to clear up.

“I guess a day won’t make any difference,” I said.

Back at the hotel Lucy went online to book our tickets for the forty-minute domestic flight to Clark. “We can hire a car or take a car with a driver from Angeles to Subic. What do you think?”

“Car with driver I think, if we can get one that speaks English. We’ve got a few different places to go and we won’t have the hassle of finding our way or looking for parking. Anyway, I don’t feel like driving. I’m on vacation.”

“I thought this was work.”

“It’s a working vacation,” I said. “Santos went over the police reports with me this afternoon.”

“Were they helpful?”

“Maybe,” I said. “When Mrs. Sands reported her husband missing she told the police that the boat was missing too. That rather suggests that she didn’t know anything about Dale’s claim that Larry had transferred the boat to him, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe the police made a mistake. Perhaps it was somebody else who said the boat was missing. You think there’s more to it because you have a suspicious mind.”

“If you want to maintain your position of assistant to a latter-day Sherlock Holmes you’ll need to be able to tell the difference between a suspicious mind and an inquiring one. You’re allowing yourself to be influenced by your preconceived impression of Dale as an all-round nice guy. I’m not so sure.”

“Well, Cary’s the one who needs to clarify that isn’t she? It doesn’t seem likely that Dale would have asked us to check with her if it wasn’t true.”

“I’m going to try and see Dale again tomorrow, before we fly to Clark. I want to tie him down to a date when he says this transaction took place.”

“It’s just as well we’re not leaving until the afternoon then,” Lucy said.

Chapter Seven

Clark

I arrived early at the Police Headquarters. I showed the letter that Santos had provided for me and was told that it would take about two hours to arrange Dale’s transfer. I went out and found a coffee shop and twiddled my thumbs for an hour or two. It was my own fault; I should have covered this the day before. At eleven o’clock I went back to the police station. Half an hour later I was told that I could see Mr. Porter and I was led to the same room that we’d occupied the previous day.

“Hi Dale, how’s it going?”

“Hi Mr. Kane, I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon; any news?”

“No, not yet; Lucy and I are traveling to Clark this afternoon and then driving to Subic tomorrow. We’re hoping to link up with Cary, but we haven’t contacted her yet. I’m here because there’s something I forgot to ask you yesterday and Cary may not remember. Can you tell me when you reached the deal about the boat with Larry; or more particularly when you got the boat? As you know the boat is the reason you’re here so I need all the information I can get.”

Dale wrinkled his brow in an apparent attempt to concentrate. After a while he said: “I’m sorry I really can’t remember.” Then he thought for a while longer before saying, “Sometime in September it must have been.”

“Early, middle, late?”

“I can’t remember, I’m sorry,” he said.

“Okay, well it was worth a try. Hopefully we’ll be back in Manila in a few days. Lucy says to say Hi.”

As I waited for a taxi back to the hotel I wondered whether his lack of detail was deliberate or whether he really had a lapse of memory. It wasn’t that long ago and he must remember when he first learned of Larry’s disappearance; that should jog his memory. I’d try to meet up with Hendriks and also try to find out when Dale leased his mooring for the boat. I hadn’t raised the matter of bail with Santos. For the time being I was happy that he was in police custody. It would allow me to investigate the matter without interference. In any event, there was no apparent source of funds for bail.

Lucy was off visiting Intramuros, a kind of fort which dated back to the days of the Spanish occupation which had preceded the American occupation. It was one of the few historical sites of any real interest in Manila. Lucy had discovered that virtually the only country in Asia that had never been occupied or colonized by foreigners was Thailand. She thought that was probably what made it seem so different she told me. She was late getting back to the hotel and I needed to check out so I packed for both of us and waited for her in the lobby. “Let’s go,” I said, as soon as she arrived.

Our driver must have made a short-cut, or maybe my previous driver had taken the scenic route to maximize the fare. This time it took only about forty-five minutes to get to the airport and our flight to Clark wasn’t until ten past three so we risked eating some food at the airport. It wasn’t a good idea.

The flight to Clark International Airport was over almost as soon as it began. It was basically an ascent and a descent with nothing much in between. The aircraft seats in the small plane were narrow and rather cramped, but on the other hand there were few passengers. The airport at Clark was larger than I expected and looked new. It was on the site of the old U.S. Airbase so the runway was long enough for the largest modern commercial airliners and there was a Qatar Airways Airbus on the runway to prove it. Most of the International flights were to neighboring Asian destinations like Hong Kong, Bangkok and Seoul, but many of the destinations were domestic ones.

The small aircraft on which Lucy and I had travelled deposited us on the tarmac and we walked the short distance to the terminal building. Although I only had cabin baggage Lucy had a suitcase checked in so we had a brief wait. An overpriced taxi deposited us at the Holiday Inn just before five o’clock.

After the hustle and bustle of Manila, Clark was like a curious oasis of calm. Lucy had briefed me about Clark. Like Subic it was a special economic zone. It had its own police, and the governing body was the Clark Development Council, or CDC. As well as an intended magnet for international corporations lured by tax incentives and inexpensive wage bills it was simultaneously being promoted as a tourist destination. There were two golf courses, five casinos and an assortment of hotels and holiday apartments. As we drove to the hotel in our taxi we passed the derelict remains of a number of buildings from U.S. Air force days. The departure of the U.S. troops had coincided with the eruption of nearby Mount Pinatubo which had buried the area under several inches of ash. The new Clark was therefore rising like the mythical phoenix from the ashes. A rather slow-moving phoenix though.

Our room in the Holiday Inn was exactly what we had expected: a room in a Holiday Inn. We went out for a stroll. There was no breeze and the leaves of the mango trees were still. Many of the trees must have been well over a hundred years old but were keeping the mystery of what they had witnessed over the years to themselves. It was a pleasantly warm evening again and we walked to what was still called the Parade Ground, an oval of several acres where the U.S. troops used to strut their stuff in days that were a distant memory now.

After our walk we sat in the small bar on the first floor of the hotel. A guitarist and singer were entertaining the mainly Western customers. I’d assumed the customers were tourists who’d come for the golf but it turned out that most were nearby residents. They recommended the restaurant on the top floor of the hotel as being exceptionally good so we booked a table and were more than pleasantly surprised.

“I’m skeptical about the whole boat thing,” I said as we sat eating in the virtually deserted dining room.

“Because he can’t remember when the boat was transferred?”

“Yes, and also because you’d have thought he’d have told the police about it as soon as he was arrested. If what he says is true I find it hard to believe that he’s forgotten the date; and even if he’s forgotten the exact date when the transfer took place why not put the police onto Cary straight away?”

“Suzie told me he wasn’t confident that the police would carry out a proper investigation; he’s trying to get a lawyer to advise him – or at least he was until she told him you’d agreed to help.”

“I agreed to come; I don’t know yet if I’ll be able to help. His explanation sounds a bit thin to me. If I was arrested for a serious crime and I had an innocent explanation for what appears to be a damning piece of evidence, I’d tell the police immediately. If what he says is true, Cary could exonerate him immediately.”

“But if he was responsible for Larry’s death it’s unlikely he’d have returned to the Philippines, don’t you think?”

“Larry’s body was only found by chance. Whoever was responsible for his death I doubt they expected the body to be found. If Larry was simply reported as a missing person it’s unlikely the police would’ve made much, if any, effort to follow it up.”

We asked the staff at the reception desk for a driver to take us to Subic the following day and they said they’d provide one from the hotel. If we wanted a driver in and around Subic we’d need to arrange that when we got there. We were told that the journey would take about an hour and the road was good. There’d be no delays other than at the turnpike booths.

We went to bed early. We had a twin-bedded room, unlike the King size we’d shared in Manila; Lucy had forgotten to ask. As I lay in that netherworld between wakefulness and sleep the little beacon which resides surreptitiously somewhere at the back of my brain began to blink dimly. When that happened I knew it was trying to tell me something, so I paid attention. What it was suggesting to me this time was that perhaps I should visit Hendriks before Cary and find out all about the boat first before asking her about it. If Hendriks had identified the boat as belonging to Sands, and had seen it in the place where it was moored by Porter, then there was a good chance that he knew both of them. He might be the best person to interview first. At least he was more likely to be objective rather than partisan. I had no idea how well Cary knew Porter, nor even if she knew of his arrest; but if she knew the police suspected Porter of killing her husband then it might well influence her objectivity. I hadn’t contacted either of them yet. I assumed that tomorrow being Sunday they’d be fairly easy to get hold of, and while I was still thinking about all this I drifted off to sleep.

Lucy had promised to keep Suzie up to date on our progress so she called her in Sacramento before we went down to breakfast, having worked out that it would be late afternoon there. She told her about the boat and the fact that Dale had a perfectly innocent explanation for that and that it would probably be only be a matter of days before Dale was released and so on.

“How’s Suzie?” I said.

“She seems fine. She sounded relieved and she said to thank you for your help – but I got the impression that she’s moved on. To be honest she seemed a bit distant.”

“Ships that pass in the night,” I said.

The buffet breakfast downstairs was at least a zillion times better than the one at the hotel in Manila, which was something of a relief. The hotel car was arranged for ten o’clock and we were packed up and ready when it arrived. I felt as if I was on one of those vacations where you visit eight European countries in ten days. I saw a movie made about a vacation like that once. It was called ‘If it’s Tuesday it Must be Belgium’ or something like that.

The drive to Subic was a scenic one. The highway led all the way from Clark to Subic past ridiculously green meadows and ridiculously reddish-brown earth with carabao and rice paddies and mountains. The only delay was at the two turnpike booths where, presumably as a joke, someone had decided to set the fees at inconvenient levels. The first was twenty-nine pesos instead of thirty and the second was forty-eight pesos instead of fifty, which meant that everybody had to wait for change. As we passed from the province of Pampanga to Zimbales I briefed Lucy on my plan for the days ahead. I realized it was likely to take days now.

“So,” I said, “I’ve decided that it would be best to try and see Hendriks first if I can get hold of him. He’s the guy who reported the location of the boat a few days after Sands’ body was found in the ocean. It seems to me that there’s a good chance that he may have known both Sands and Porter. Also, importantly, he’ll be able to tell me where it was berthed. If I can find out when Porter took the berth, then I’ll know more or less when he got the boat.”

“Why not just ask Cary?”

“I intend to, but I’d like to know some of the answers before I pose the questions.”

“Who else are you planning to contact?”

“The medical examiner, of course, and maybe the bank staff where Sands kept his money. I assume he must have had an account somewhere. I may not learn anything from that, but you never know. If Sands hasn’t accessed his account for a couple of months, it would strengthen the conclusion that he’s dead – that his was the body recovered from the ocean. If it was a homicide, money may be involved somewhere. Then, of course, I’ll want to talk to anyone who may have seen Sands around the time of his disappearance and try to find out whether he had any enemies. Things like that.”

“Isn’t that going further than you really need to? I mean Dale’s your client and your job is to make sure he’s cleared of suspicion of the murder. If he wasn’t responsible does it really matter who was? As you said yourself, Sands might not have been murdered at all. It could have been an accident or even a suicide.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been accused of obsessive thoroughness,” I said. “Once I get my teeth into something I find it hard to let go; an investigation becomes like a challenge. As far as I know Subic is like a small island. I mean it’s not literally an island but it’s likely to be a place where everybody knows everybody else’s business or they think they do. I’ve a feeling that when I start to dig I shall find out a lot more about the background to this case.”

“We could be here all winter,” said Lucy glumly.

“I can stay here by myself if you like and send you back to the mausoleum.”

“Two heads are better than one,” Lucy said.

“Even if one of them belongs to a woman?” I said.

“Especially if one’s a woman.”

“So what’s the first thing we need to do to crack the case?” I said.

“How many guesses do I get?”

“We need to establish a timeline,” I said. “At the moment there are a lot of things we’re not sure about. We need to find out when Larry disappeared. Not when it was reported, but the last time he was seen by anybody. Then we need to find out when the boat went missing. When was the last time it was seen at Larry’s mooring? When did it show up at Dale’s mooring? Once we get an accurate time-line we’ll be able to start making some progress.”

Lucy didn’t say anything. She’d fallen asleep in the back of the car. We were on the last stretch of the journey. We exited the highway and drove down a broad avenue lined with restaurants and shopping malls. We passed the Subic marina on our left and within a few minutes arrived at our hotel. Clark was sixty miles inland but Subic was by the coast and Lucy had found us a hotel overlooking the ocean. It was near to a hotel called the Lighthouse, which we probably wouldn’t have been able to afford, in an area which was still undergoing development and landscaping.

It was going to be our new home for the next few days.

Chapter Eight

The Dutchman

It was eleven thirty by the time we got to our room. Lucy started to unpack the bags while I telephoned Peter Hendriks on his cell phone. He picked up after two or three rings. His accent was British and he told me he lived in Subic. He was employed by a Dutch electronics company and was in charge of quality control. I explained why I needed to talk to him. He hadn’t heard about Porter’s arrest but confirmed that he was the one who had alerted the police about the location of the boat. He’d be happy to meet with me as long as we could do it this evening. Right now he was entertaining guests at the marina but he’d be free later. Tomorrow he was leaving for Manila for a few days to attend an electronics fair. He appreciated that I had no vehicle and was unfamiliar with the area so he said he’d come to the hotel. Would six o’clock be alright?

It seemed as if the afternoon was to be wasted, but there was nothing I could do about that; if we’d got there a day later he wouldn’t have been there at all. I decided to call Cary for an appointment, but she wasn’t answering her cell.

We spent the afternoon by the hotel swimming pool and occasionally in it. Lucy wanted to work on her tan and I was told to work on mine too. The pool was on a terrace on the second floor and there were uninterrupted views eastwards over the ocean. There were only a handful of guests staying in the hotel and we had an open-ended arrangement for our stay. We could pay for the room when we checked out.

“You look like an albino; you need to get some sun on your body; you’re not a healthy color,” Lucy said disparagingly.

I remembered an old magazine advertisement from when I was a child. It was advertising some sort of electronic contraption that was designed to give you a tan in the comfort of your own home, even at night time or in winter. The advertisement said this: ‘Handsome men are always slightly sun-burnt’. All over Manila I’d noticed beauty salons − some large and fancy and some little more than a hole in the wall − where skin whitening was a popular procedure. So the world was full of white people trying to get brown and brown people trying to get white.

I’d arranged to meet Hendriks at the hotel lobby and then take him to dinner at the Lighthouse which was only a stone’s throw away. Lucy asked if she could skip the dinner with Hendriks. The TV had cable and there was a movie she wanted to watch. At seven I went down for our rendezvous.

Peter Hendriks was a Dutchman. I guess the name should have been a clue. And the fact that he worked for a Dutch electronics corporation. He was also every inch of six feet four and very slim. His hair was the color of corn and he had bright blue eyes. He looked as if he could do with a hearty meal. The Lighthouse hotel was situated on a small promontory and there was an outdoor restaurant so close to the ocean that we could hear the water slapping against the rocks below us. When Hendriks spoke it was without a hint of a Dutch accent, but the rhythm of his voice was testament to his continental home. We ordered steaks and a salad and a couple of cold San Miguel beers.

“I can’t help you much I’m afraid, I only met Larry once and it was more than a year ago through a mutual acquaintance. He was interested in getting a boat and he needed someone experienced to check the boat and engine to make sure it was seaworthy and in good working order. I’ve been working with boats both big and small for a long time and so I get asked to help with this kind of thing from time to time. The company I work for makes components for electronic navigation systems. So I checked over the boat and was able to give it a clean bill of health. Of course it wasn’t new, but after checking it over I thought it was in fairly good condition for its age.

“Can you remember the price?”

“I told him that in my opinion it was worth around half a million pesos. That’s about ten thousand dollars, perhaps a little more. I don’t know what he paid for it. I haven’t seen him since then. Then about two weeks ago there were rumors about a body that was found in the sea a bit further up the coast. It was believed to be the body of Larry Sands. I think his wife identified the body.”

“What caused you to contact the police when you saw his boat?”

“The gossip was everywhere. Subic’s a small place in terms of population – less than a hundred thousand – and the expatriate community here is obviously much smaller. I heard that Larry’s boat was missing. The theory being bandied about was that Larry had probably accidentally fallen off the boat when he was out fishing, but if that was the case you’d expect the boat to have been found drifting somewhere. Even if the motor was engaged at the time of the accident it would only have run for an hour or two. Once the fuel ran out it would probably have drifted ashore somewhere because the currents and tides to the north of here would have pushed it towards the coast. So when I saw it moored I thought that someone had found it. I recognized it easily enough, even though I hadn’t seen it since the day I checked it over. It was about ten years old and certain modifications had been made which made it distinctive. So I reported the find to the police, and that’s really all I can tell you.”

“Can you tell me where it was moored or perhaps show me?”

“I can run you over there after dinner if you like. It’s only about fifteen minutes away by car. But the boat’s not there anymore. I guess the police have moved it somewhere, or maybe they’ve returned the boat to his wife.”

“Did you meet his wife?”

“No, but I’ve heard she’s a local girl. Maybe it was Larry who told me that, I don’t remember now. I think they lived somewhere between here and Olongapo. I’m sorry I can’t help anymore. Are you something to do with the investigation into his death, or from the insurance company?”

I gave one of my cards to Hendriks. “I represent a man called Dale Porter. Apparently the berth where the boat was moored belonged to him and the police have arrested him on suspicion of Larry’s murder.”

“Murder? I thought it was an accident.”

“Well the body was examined by the local medical examiner. I understand he wasn’t able to determine how Larry died; the body was badly decomposed. But your finding of the boat in Porter’s mooring has put things in a new light. Or at least that’s the police view of the matter.”

“Who’s Dale Porter? I never heard of him.”

“He was a friend and possibly a business partner of Larry’s. They’re both Americans.”

Hendriks put his thumb against his jaw and stroked his chin with his forefinger, drawing attention to a couple of day’s growth of beard. I hadn’t noticed it before because his facial hair had been bleached almost white by the sun.

“When did this happen? I would expect to have heard about it. News travels like wildfire in communities like this, especially bad news.”

“Porter’s been away. He arrived back in Manila a few days ago and was arrested at the airport.”

“Returning to the scene of the crime?”

“Well, not far from the scene of the crime; if there was a crime. Porter says Larry owed him money and Sands gave him the boat in lieu of payment. I’m here to see if his story checks out. If it does then he’ll probably be released.”

“Hmm. Well, good luck. Let’s finish up here and I’ll take you to the place where I spotted the boat. I’ve got an early start tomorrow. I have to get to Clark and then catch a flight to Manila. There’s no airport here unfortunately.”

We drove northwards along the Argonaut Highway in Peter’s Mitsubishi SUV for a few miles and turned left past a hotel called the Casablanca. We wound down a small road to a place Hendriks said was called Lower Mau. It was right on the water and there were several fishing boats moored there but not much else.

“That’s the place where the boat was,” Hendriks said. I had Lucy’s camera with me so I took a couple of shots of the location, checked to make sure they’d come out okay, and then we headed back.

On the drive back to the hotel I asked Hendriks about something he’d mentioned earlier. I wasn’t sure if it was an off-hand remark or whether it meant something.

“You asked me earlier whether I was working for the insurers. Is that part of the local gossip too?”

“Oh, yes. But I have to stress, it’s only gossip; I have no idea if there’s anything in it.”

“In what?” I said.

“The word on the street is that Larry’s wife is the potential beneficiary of a pretty big life policy on him. I heard the insurance company is refusing to pay out on the policy until they have conclusive proof that the body that was found in the sea is actually Larry.”

“That’s interesting. It’s the first I’ve heard about it.”

“It may not even be true. Can I give you a word of advice?”

“Sure, I’d appreciate it.”

“Places like this – and there are thousands of them all over Asia – are full of Walter Mitties. If you’re talking to local expats, and I mean particularly the ones who bum around with no apparent means of support, you’ll need to take a lot of what they tell you with a pinch of salt.”

“Thanks, I’ll bear that in mind.”

We parted at the hotel. As I got out of the car Hendriks said:

“The guy who introduced me to Sands is called Paul Evans. He knows, or knew, Sands quite well and he may know Porter. I know he spends a fair bit of time in Olongapo. I’ll get him to call you if you like. Don’t worry; he’s not one of the Mittyesque guys I mentioned.”

I thanked him and went up to the room. As soon as I entered Lucy shushed me with a frown. She was at a good part in the movie. I helped myself to a beer from the mini bar, looked at the price on the list on top of the refrigerator and put it back. I went downstairs and found a bar next door and ordered a beer there instead. The evening was pleasantly cool and there was a light breeze blowing off the water. As I sat there I considered what I’d learnt from Hendriks. If what he’d told me about the life insurance turned out to be true it could be a whole new ball-game.

Chapter Nine

The Medical Examiner

Mercifully the movie had finished by the time I got back to the room.

“Why were you shushing me?” I said.

“You always spoil movies when you open your mouth.”

“Was it a good one?”

“So-so.”

“Was the guy with the big neck in it?”

“He’s got a big neck because his entire body is big. He used to be a football player; for the NFL.”

“I hope he was better at football than he is at acting.”

“You see?” Lucy said, hurling a pillow at me. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“You missed a good dinner. We had steak,” I said, licking my lips theatrically.

“What was he like then?”

“Hendriks? Tall and thin. And Dutch.”

“Did you bond?”

“Excuse me?”

Lucy remained seated on the bed but stretched out her arms and waved them in front of her jiggling her fingers and, in a deep menacing voice that was supposed to resemble a ghost or something, uttered the single word ‘Scandinavia’. Lucy was one of the few people on Earth who knew that my middle name was Scandinavian. She was one of the few people that knew what it was, too.

“Holland isn’t part of Scandinavia,” I said.

“Yes it is. I excelled at geography in school.”

“I didn’t, but I still beg to differ.”

“Anyway, was he helpful?”

“He showed me where the boat had been stowed. It’s a place about four or five miles from here. He didn’t know Sands, except in passing, and he doesn’t know Porter at all. He did tell me something else rather interesting though.” I looked at her enigmatically.

“Well go on, then. Aren’t you going to tell me?”

I strolled over to look out the window. “It’s rumored that Sands’ life was heavily insured, and that Cary’s the beneficiary.”

“Hmmm.”

“He doesn’t know whether it’s true; but if it is it might explain something that’s been occupying my mind recently.”

“Which is?”

“After the body was found Cary purported to identify it as her husband, but the body had been in the water for five or six weeks so it’s difficult to see how she could have identified it. But no insurance company is going to pay out on a missing person; they need a body. So if Cary wants the money it would be in her interests to say it was Sands even if she wasn’t sure.”

“But what about the driving license?”

“All I know is that the police are still treating the identity of the body as inconclusive. Until the police are convinced you can bet your bottom dollar that the insurers won’t pay. We’ll see what Cary says about Larry’s watch and wedding band and anything else he may have habitually worn. If she’s able to give us a description of any such items your job will be to trawl around the local pawn shops to see if you can find them. Westlake thinks that they may have been removed by the fishermen who found the body. It’s equally possible that they may have been removed by the killer. Either way, if they were sold or pawned locally we should be able to find out the name of the person who sold or pledged them, and it would also help to establish that the body really is Larry’s.”

“So you’re going to trust me to take part in the actual investigation? Awesome.”

“I’ll have to have some cards printed for you. Your name isn’t on Santos’ letter.”

“What letter?”

I pulled out the letter that Santos had provided for me with all the panache of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. The letter was on the official notepaper of the PNP. It was headed ‘TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN’ and it said this:

‘Mr. Mark Kane is a detective from the United States of America. He is assisting the police in an investigation into the death of a United States Citizen. Please provide any assistance that he may require in the course of his inquiries.”

It was signed by Superintendent Vicente P. Santos and his name was typed below the signature for good measure.

“Why didn’t you ask him to put ‘or his assistant’?” Lucy said.

“Sorry, I didn’t think of it.”

“I want a card with embossed writing on it,” said Lucy.

“If you think it will help.”

“So when are we going to see Cary?”

“I’m delegating that to you. You can call her and say you want to make an appointment on behalf of your principal.”

“My what? When?”

“Me. Now if you like. Keep calling until you can pin her down. Here’s a tip. Tell her we’re hoping to be able to conclusively establish the identity of her husband’s body; that ought to do it.”

“And because we really are hoping to do that it won’t even be a lie, will it?”

“Try to make the appointment for tomorrow evening. I want to see the medical examiner in the morning, and Hendriks is going to put me in touch with someone who knew Sands and may know Porter too. I’d like to talk to him before we see Cary.”

Lucy made the call but there was no answer. She tried again periodically and at about eleven she got through. She gave her the spiel that I’d suggested and an appointment was made for eight o’clock the next evening. We were invited to dinner at Cary’s place.

“See,” I said, “that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

“I’m a natural,” Lucy said.

We had a big bed again and were lying side by side. Physical contact was out of the question though because I’d got sunburn.

“Do you think Cary’s a suspect, then? Because of the insurance?”

“Let’s just say that it widens the parameters of the investigation.”

“Why can’t you just say yes or no? Why do you have to use those ridiculous words? ‘It widens the parameters of the investigation’, she said in an exaggerated mimicry of my voice.

“It means maybe,” I said.

Our hotel didn’t have its own dining room so the next morning we strolled along an adjacent footpath where there were lots of places to eat.

“We’re going native from now on,” Lucy said. “It’s too good an opportunity to miss.”

So we ate small grilled fish with rice and local vegetables and then walked along the artificial beach that was being created there to help it go down. At nine I telephoned the office of the medical examiner. To my surprise Santos had arranged for someone to telephone his office on Saturday, so they were expecting my call. I wrote down the address and we went out to get a taxi. We arrived at the office at nine forty five and were immediately introduced to Mr. Edwardo Aquino.

“No relation to the former lady president,” he said, as we shook hands. I wondered how many times he’d said that. He was a small man, in his fifties I guessed. His skin was fairly light in color and the overhead light made his hairless scalp shine. He was wearing a white coat over a dark suit. He was about five feet four.

“How can I help you?” he said.

“I need to know as much as you can tell me, in layman’s terms, about your post mortem,” I said.

He sifted through the notes in front of him. There were diagrams of the body with arrows and comments in handwriting too small for me to read, especially upside down. He leaned back in his chair, holding the sheaf of papers in front of him and reading from them through rimless glasses.

“The body is that of a Caucasian male aged between thirty and thirty-five. Height, about five feet ten inches, approximate weight one hundred and eighty pounds.” He looked up. “That’s an estimate of course,” he said. “There was little flesh left on the bones when it was recovered, but there are other ways of making an estimate. I don’t suppose you want me to go over all the medical jargon.”

“No, that’s fine. Please carry on,” I said.

“Nothing remarkable was found about the skeletal structure. There is no evidence of healed fractures and no evidence of any bony disease. There was no evidence of obvious blunt force trauma. Now I have to qualify this. Blunt force trauma is − as its name suggests − a severe traumatic episode caused to the body or head with the sudden introduction of a blunt instrument used with great force. There was no evidence of a fracture on any part of the body, but I can’t exclude the possibility that the deceased received a blow on the head, for example, before he was put into the sea. A relatively light blow on the head might cause temporary unconsciousness and yet not be apparent on a subsequent examination of the skeletonized body. There are certainly marks on the skull and on other parts of the body which can’t be classified as pre- or postmortem. They may have been caused by the body bumping against rocks or debris after the deceased had died. The hyoid was intact. There was no evidence of subdural bleeding in the brain.”

Aquino stopped reading from the report and looked up.

“It may surprise you to learn that little is known about the process of decomposition of a body in salt water. Even if a body is weighted down it is likely to float to the surface within a few days, unless it’s confined inside a receptacle of some kind or trapped by rocks. Of course, as the flesh decomposes or diminishes as the result of scavenging by sea creatures then the buoyancy will gradually decrease and it will sink again. But because a body may float on the surface of the water for some time before it sinks it may end up very far indeed from the place where it first entered the water. Another factor that is highly variable is the rate of decomposition. Scientists in Canada did an experiment with three pig carcasses. Two of the carcasses were stripped to the bone by scavengers within a few days, but the other one was still largely intact after six weeks. What all this means is that my estimate of the duration of the submersion of the body is the result of educated guesswork. I estimated thirty-five to forty days. I should clarify that I believe that to be the minimum period, but it could have been a longer or shorter period than that. The upper limit is extremely hard to calculate. The body could have been in the water for several months.”

“And as you say, the place where the body was found may be far away from where it was when the death occurred.”

“Precisely, yes.”

“So all you are really able to say, apart from your estimate of ethnicity, height, weight, age and so on, is that although there was no indication of foul play the cause of death can’t be determined.”

“There are certainly no signs of strangulation, for example. The hyoid was intact. I understand that you are a private investigator so I’m sure I don’t need to explain the relevance of that. There were no signs of physical trauma to the bones or cartilage that remains. I can’t say whether the deceased drowned. I can’t even say if the deceased was dead before he went into the water. He could have been dead for days or even weeks before he was submerged. However, I should add that there’s no reason to believe that the body was weighted down when it went into the water, because there’s no sign of any ropes or bonds of any kind. People rarely use hemp these days. If he had been tied up or if a weight or weights had been tied to his body it is likely that plastic rope or string would have been used, and I would expect there to be at least a trace of that left. And there’s another thing for you to consider. Death by accidental drowning is unlikely in my opinion, although I can’t rule it out of course. Even if the deceased wasn’t a strong swimmer the human body is naturally buoyant and the waters off the coast here are relatively calm most of the time. Provided the deceased was able to breathe and keep air in his lungs he ought to have been able to keep afloat long enough to be spotted, perhaps even long enough to get ashore. Of course, if he panicked, or if the sea was unusually rough at the time, accidental drowning is still a possibility.”

Aquino looked over at us and removed his rimless glasses. “I’m sorry; I’m really not being much help, am I?”

“Perhaps you can assist in another way,” I said. “I understand the deceased’s wife purported to identify the body. How was she able to do that bearing in mind the state of decomposition?”

“She said she could identify him by his teeth. I suppose that’s perfectly plausible. Efforts have been made to see if there are any dental records, but if Mr. Sands visited a dentist in the Philippines the police haven’t been able to find any evidence of it yet. The deceased was at an age when most people with good dental hygiene have little need to visit a dentist.”

“You know of course that the police have categorized the identification as inconclusive,” I said.

“Yes, well, when a person purports to make an identification they are really doing no more than stating their opinion. Identification, other than by fingerprints or DNA or other medical means, is always suspect. That doesn’t mean that I doubt the integrity of Mrs. Sands. I don’t suppose anyone is likely to know what a person’s teeth are like better than a spouse; but there it is.”

“But you discovered a driving license bearing the name of Mr. Sands, I understand?

“Yes; in one of his shoes. The body had deck shoes on which were relatively intact, and the license was encased in plastic. Although the finding was possibly indicative of the identity of the corpse it’s only circumstantial. To be sure about the identification you really need to find something about the body itself.”

I couldn’t think of anything useful that hadn’t been covered. I turned to Lucy. “Do you have any questions for Doctor Aquino?”

She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow in an attempt to appear to be carefully analyzing Dr. Aquino’s findings. “Not at this moment in time,” she said.

On the way back to the hotel I asked Lucy, “At this moment in time? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It sounded better than just saying no,” she said. “So we’re no wiser then?”

“We’re no wiser,” I said, “but we are better informed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It sounded better than just saying no,” I said.

Chapter Ten

The Café

“Ouch.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Lucy said.

She was applying sunscreen to my shoulders which were the worst affected part of my body, although my shins came a pretty close second and various other parts of my body a fairly close equal third. We were sitting by the hotel swimming pool again but this time I was under a large parasol. Clothes would have been a better shield against the sun but they were too painful to wear.

“I don’t need sunscreen,” I said. “I’m under an umbrella.”

“It doesn’t stop all the ultraviolet rays. Some of them still seep through.”

I could be in a bar somewhere, I thought, where a sun’s ray had never ventured, but Lucy wanted to work on her own tan and decided that we shouldn’t waste the afternoon. We needed to discuss the case, she told me. Her interest in the case had been bolstered by a trip to the mall on the way back from Aquino’s office where she had ordered her new business cards. The cards would announce, to anyone who cared to read one, that she was an ‘Assistant Investigator’ for Mark Kane Investigations. She was having them made with embossed writing so they wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow and we’d have to go back there again. If she’d been less picky we could have had them more or less straight away.

Paul Evans had called my cell phone just before lunch to make contact, but he wouldn’t be available to see us today. He confirmed that he knew both Sands and Porter though, and seemed happy enough to tell me what he knew. I didn’t want to do it over the phone so we’d tentatively arranged to link up tomorrow sometime. It was early afternoon now and Lucy was standing in front of me with her arms outstretched admiring herself.

“I bet you wished you tanned naturally, like me,” she said.

“You’ve had time to do it gradually, that’s why.”

“Even in the beginning I didn’t look like a cooked lobster,” she retorted.

I’d been allowed a beer with which I was freezing my throat.

“Make it last,” warned Lucy, “it’s the only one we’ve got.”

“Okay, I’ll be the chairman, shall I?” I said. “I call this meeting to order. The first thing is to apply some common sense to what we were told this morning. In my opinion we can probably discount a natural death. First, as Aquino said, accidental drowning is unlikely. Second, if he had died of natural causes before he was put into the water why would he have been put there at all? Are you listening to this?”

Lucy was flat on her back on a lounger with a large pair of sunglasses covering her eyes. There was no visual means at my disposal to determine if she was still awake.

“Of course I’m listening,” she said. “In fact I was about to interrupt.”

“Why, because you want me to put some sunscreen on you?” I said.

“No, because I was going to add something to the meeting, if that’s okay. Or do I have to raise my hand first?”

“Please, go ahead. I’m all ears.”

“It’s fairly obvious that he wasn’t pushed overboard on purpose, right, because he might just have swum ashore? He wasn’t weighted down. He probably wasn’t rendered unconscious by a blow to the head because Aquino said there was no evidence of blunt force trauma, although he also said a blow sufficient to render him unconscious wouldn’t necessarily be apparent at the autopsy. The most obvious answer is that he was killed and then dumped into the sea to disguise the real cause of his death by having him eaten by the little fishes. I suspect he was stabbed or maybe poisoned. Or asphyxiated,” she added slowly, enjoying the word.

“Bravo,” I said. “That’s what I was about to say.”

“But I said it first,” Lucy said.

“Okay Miss Clever Pants. Why wasn’t the body weighted down?”

“Because whoever did it wanted him to be found.”

“And why would the killer want him found?”

“So that she could collect the insurance money.”

“You mean Cary,” I said.

“Maybe you would have worked it out,” said Lucy; “eventually.”

“So you think the killer is Cary? We haven’t even met her yet.”

“She’s up to her eyeballs in it,” Lucy said.

“Well it’s a perfectly sensible theory, I grant you that. But suspecting her and proving it are two different things.”

“I move for this meeting to be adjourned,” said Lucy “to give me time to think.”

“Okay,” I said, getting up. “I’m a bit worried about the ultraviolet rays seeping through this umbrella. I think I’m going to stretch my legs.”

“See you in the bar next door a bit later then,” she said.

Much later I hoped.

Sitting in the bar next to the hotel called simply ‘The Café’ I was on my third bottle of San Miguel before the alcohol began to anesthetize my burning skin. I was now as relaxed as a jellyfish on a waterbed. The news of the possible insurance payout had changed the whole perspective of the case provided that it was true, and I’d find that out tonight. I wondered why the police hadn’t checked that angle. Remembering the police report that Santos had gone over with me it seemed as if nobody had thought it worthwhile to interview Mrs. Sands at all. There was only a passing reference to her identification of the body.

It was natural, I guessed, for Cary to be keen to collect the insurance money and it didn’t necessarily mean that she was connected with the death. On the other hand, if she was connected with her husband’s death in some way she’d have no interest in an innocent man taking the rap. If she knew about the boat changing hands she’d have no reason not to confirm it. Dale couldn’t remember when he took the boat, or said he couldn’t remember. It was possible that he took the boat around the time of Larry’s disappearance and the two matters only appeared to be related. I didn’t even know whether Cary was aware of Dale’s arrest. He hadn’t told the police about the boat because he’d declined to be interviewed, so the police would have had no reason to contact Cary.

At five Lucy turned up to collect me from the bar. We had to get ready and we’d need time to prepare what Lucy called ‘a plan of action’. I went with her as docile as a puppy summoned to its evening meal. I took a cold shower then put a new blade in my razor and shaved gingerly with very hot water and lots of foam. Luckily my face wasn’t too burnt and the stinging was beginning to fade on the rest of my body too. We had a few words about the approach we should adopt for our dinner meeting.

“I’m not going to mention what Dale told us about the boat − I want to see if she volunteers anything without being prompted. It occurred to me earlier that if Dale took the boat on the day that Larry went missing then Cary might have mistakenly thought that her husband had taken the boat out. In fact, she didn’t tell the police that her husband’s disappearance and the disappearance of the boat were connected. She only described them as simultaneous events.”

Lucy was drying her hair and attempting to shake water out of her ear at the same time and wasn’t paying very close attention.

“Sorry, can you run that past me again?” she said.

“I was saying that Dale’s version and Cary’s version about the boat could conceivably both be true. Dale claims he can’t remember when he collected the boat. Suppose he happened to collect it around the same time as Larry disappeared. It doesn’t mean that the two things are connected. Let me use a simple analogy: last night there was a full moon and I had a headache. It doesn’t mean that the full moon and my headache were connected. It doesn’t mean the full moon caused my headache.”

“It may have,” Lucy said. “Some people think the phases of the moon can affect people’s brains and drive them mad; that’s why they’re called lunatics. They may be right too; if the moon’s gravity can cause tides in the ocean just think what it could do to a little bitty brain.”

“You’re missing the point,” I sighed, “there wasn’t actually a full moon last night and I didn’t have a headache either. I was just using that as an example.”

Lucy grinned at me. “I know – I’m only kidding. Don’t worry; I’ll make use of my feminine intuition tonight. You can do most of the talking and I’ll sit quietly observing her demeanor,” she said, drawing out the word ‘demeanor’ to an unnatural length.

I walked over to the window and gazed up at the sky.

“What are you looking at?” Lucy asked.

“Just checking to see if there’s a full moon,” I said.

Chapter Eleven

Cary

Cary’s house was in a small track off the main highway, about halfway between our hotel and Olongapo. Luckily our taxi driver knew how to get there. It was a single story house in a lot just large enough to accommodate it. Even in the darkness I could see that it was relatively new. The yard, such as it was, a narrow strip which encircled the house, was neatly tended with small shrubs and cacti. Interspersed between the plants were colored stones. The heavy front door was molded in dark wood and was a little too imposing for the house itself. Cary opened the door as I was paying the driver. She was of average height, by the standards of her race, or perhaps a shade taller; she was perhaps five feet three, slim, square shouldered with a generous bosom, narrow hips and thick, jet-black, hair which shone under the porch light. Her face was devoid of make-up, as far as I could tell, and she smiled with even white teeth which appeared to be her own. She looked to be in her early twenties, but could have been a few years older. She was not beautiful, but she was attractive − not so much because of her features, but as a result of that indefinable something else that she had in spades – sex appeal. Although simply dressed and unadorned by jewelry, save for her wedding band, she had a radiant quality about her. The overall effect was striking. It was easy to see why Larry had been attracted to her.

“Hi,” she said, embracing Lucy and then shaking me by the hand. “I was afraid you wouldn’t find me, it’s a bit out of the way.” She spoke perfect English, but with the familiar twang of the Filipina.

“I’m not very good at Western food. I’ve made some chicken adobo, I hope you’ll like it,” she said.

“I’m sure we will,” said Lucy. “What a charming house.”

“We only built it just over a year ago,” she said. “My family has owned this piece of land for generations and Larry paid for the house to be built. It has air conditioning and everything,” she said proudly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without Larry.” The corners of her mouth turned down and I thought she was about to burst into tears. We sat down on a sofa which looked as if it was upholstered in PVC but it was hard to tell because the whole thing was covered in a thick clear plastic.

“Would you like some orange juice, or cola?” she said.

“Either would be nice,” I said.

We sat there with our drinks and Cary sat on the edge of an armchair opposite us. The armchair was covered in thick plastic too.

“I’d better get straight to the point,” I said. “We’re here to look into the circumstances of Larry’s death, and also to try to help Dale Porter. Did you know that Dale had been arrested in connection with your husband’s death before Lucy spoke to you yesterday?”

“Yes; it’s awful. Dale would never have hurt Larry, they were friends.”

“Do you know why he was arrested?”

“It’s because of the boat; Larry’s boat.”

“What can you tell us about that?”

“About the boat? Larry gave it to him.”

“Why was that?”

“Um, something to do with the business.”

“Did Larry give it to Dale or sell it to him?”

“Um, I’m not sure. But he didn’t steal it. He’s done nothing wrong.”

“Dale said he gave Larry a receipt for the boat. He told us that Larry gave him the boat to satisfy a debt that Larry owed him.”

“Did he? Yes, that’s right. I remember now.”

“Do you have the receipt? It could be very helpful for Dale. He needs to satisfy the police that Larry transferred the boat to him voluntarily.”

“Receipt?” Cary said slowly. She thought about it for a while. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry there are so many questions, but can you tell me exactly when Larry gave the boat to Dale?”

Cary looked at me and then Lucy. Then she looked back at me again. “I don’t remember,” she said, furrowing her brow. She stood up, went over to the mantle and picked up a photograph. It was in a frame adorned with tiny seashells, like many I’d seen in the tourist shops.

“That’s the boat,” she said. The picture showed Cary sitting on the deck of a boat between two men in T-shirts and shorts each holding a beer. One of them was Dale. “That’s me with Larry and Dale on one of our fishing trips. Actually we never caught many fish. My sister took the photo so she’s not in it.” She put her hand over her mouth and giggled, conscious of having stated the obvious.

“If the police were to ask you, would you confirm that Larry gave the boat to Dale?” I said.

“Yes, if it will help. I mean yes, of course,” she said. “Because it’s the truth,” she added.

“Well, let’s talk about something else. You went to the medical examiner’s office and identified the body that was recovered from the sea as Larry, right?”

“That’s right; because of the teeth.”

“And you’re sure it was him?”

“Of course I am.”

“The police aren’t satisfied yet that there’s enough evidence to be sure, but I may be able to help you with that.”

“Can you, how?”

“Did your husband wear a watch, a wedding band or any other jewelry?”

“Yes; he had a Rolex. A real one made of gold. And his wedding band has my name inside and the date of our wedding. Wait a minute, I’ll show you.”

Cary got up and went over to a bureau on the other side of the room. She took out a manila envelope and pulled out a couple of sheets of paper. She came back across the room and handed them to me. “Larry had them insured,” she said.

I looked at the two sheets of paper. The Rolex and the wedding band were among a few items included in the insurance document. There was also a jade bracelet and Cary’s wedding band. Each one was itemized and described with a photograph of the item next to its description. The total value of the items was declared at six hundred thousand pesos. The watch was valued at 450,000 pesos. The details of the Rolex watch included a serial number. The document was undated.

“Do you have another copy of this?” I said. “As you know, your husband’s wedding band and wristwatch were missing when his body was found. I’d like to see if I can trace them. They may have been taken from the body by someone and either pawned or sold.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. “You can take that one if you like and make a copy. I’ll need it back though.”

“Have you made an insurance claim on any of these items?”

“No − because I don’t know what happened to them,” she said.

“Did Larry have a life insurance policy do you know?”

Cary colored slightly and fidgeted in her seat before replying. “Yes, he did. But after he disappeared I think it stopped.”

“Why was that?”

“After Larry disappeared I had a letter from the insurance company saying that he hadn’t paid the…premiums. I explained that he’d disappeared and no-one knew where he was. They asked me to contact them when Larry made contact with me because if he didn’t pay the premiums the policy would…would…”

“Lapse?”

“Yes, that’s right. So when Larry’s body was found I called the insurance company and they sent one of their agents to see me. I told him that Larry was dead and so he couldn’t pay any more premiums and the agent asked me how he’d died and I said I didn’t know except his body had been found in the sea. I told him that I had been to the Medical Examiner’s office and identified the body. Then after about a week the agent called me by telephone and said they couldn’t pay out on the insurance until they had further proof that the body was Larry’s – that he was really dead. That’s all.”

“Have you made a claim?”

“No.”

“Well, if I can find his watch and ring I may be able to find out who took them away. It may help to prove that the body was Larry’s.”

“I know the body was Larry’s. I don’t care about the money.”

“Well if Larry really is dead then you’re entitled to the insurance money. Were you the beneficiary?”

“Sorry, the …”

“The person that Larry nominated to collect the insurance in the event of his death.”

“I think so, yes. Yes I am.”

“Well we can try to help you with that. There’s just one more question about Larry’s body. The medical examiner found Larry’s driving license in one of the shoes he was wearing. Do you know why he would have put it there?”

“No, I don’t. Maybe because he was wearing shorts and they didn’t have a pocket. Shall we have the dinner?” said Cary. “Would you like another drink?”

The dinner was simple but surprisingly good. The rice was wrapped in banana leaves and the chicken was tender and well marinated; we had fresh pineapple for desert. Cary ate with her fingers. Lucy and I tried it too, much to Cary’s delight.

“We always eat like that at home; that’s the Filipino way,” she said.

“I hear you met Dale in Thailand,” Cary said to Lucy.

“Yes, that’s right. I was the gooseberry.”

“The what?”

“It’s an expression we use sometimes. It means three’s a crowd.”

“Were you there as well Mr. Kane?”

“No. Lucy’s referring to Dale’s vacation romance,” I said.

“Romance?” said Cary. She looked over at Lucy.

“More like a fling, I think,” Lucy said.

As we finished the meal I asked Cary again about the insurance policy. “I may be able to help you with the insurers if you have a copy of the policy. I can try to talk to them on your behalf if you authorize me to do it.”

“Oh,” she hesitated. “Um, thank you. I’ll see if I can get you a copy. I really need to keep the original one.”

“Yes, of course. You tell me when it’s convenient and we’ll come and pick it up.”

I looked at my watch. “We really have to be going,” I said. “How can we get home from here?”

“I’ll call you a taxi. It probably won’t take more than a few minutes.”

She was right. We thanked Cary for the meal and said we’d be in touch. Lucy made a point of licking her fingers. “Thanks for showing us the Filipino way,” she said. Five minutes later we were on the road home.

“What did you think?” said Lucy.

“She’s obviously lying about the boat,” I said.

“Did you notice anything else,” Lucy said.

“Like what?”

“You didn’t notice?” Lucy said, turning to face me.

“Notice what?”

“Her eyes; when you mentioned Dale’s vacation romance?”

“What about them?”

“She was as mad as hell,” Lucy said.

Chapter Twelve

Paul

“So you think there’s something between Dale and Cary?” I said.

We were sitting in the Café next to the hotel. I was having a nightcap; so was Lucy.

“I wouldn’t go that far; but she was jealous, or maybe shocked, when you mentioned Dale’s romance, I’m sure of that.”

“It would fit in with my suspicions about the boat story.”

“How’s that?”

“Well it’s clear that she’s talked to Dale since he’s been arrested. Otherwise how would she know that you met Dale in Thailand? We never mentioned that. He obviously called her from the jail. I think he’s told her what to say, except she hasn’t grasped the detail. Maybe there was a limited amount of time on the phone. She did her best, but it wouldn’t fool a jury.”

“Do you think maybe they’re in it together in some way?”

“I don’t know. She’s covering for him, but that may be the extent of it. Maybe Larry did give the boat to Dale but he didn’t tell Cary about it. Maybe he thought she’d be upset. Maybe he was waiting for the right time to tell her. Dale talks to her from the jail and tells her his story, says he needs her to back him up. Let’s say she believes him. In your opinion she’s carrying a torch for Dale, so she wouldn’t want him to be in trouble – especially if she knows he’s innocent because she’s the one responsible for her husband’s death; she’d only be interested in getting the insurance money. And if your intuition is right maybe she sees a chance of snaring another Western husband as well.”

“You don’t really mean to talk to the insurers do you?”

“No, of course not; the insurers wouldn’t discuss a client’s policy with me even if I asked them to. I want a copy of the policy because I want to see how much money is involved. And I want to see when the policy was taken out and when Cary was made the beneficiary.”

“Nice meal,” Lucy said. “I feel a bit guilty though, eating her food when we were really there to find out if she killed her husband.”

“I want you to start on the pawn shops tomorrow. You’ll need to make a list, but I’ve a feeling you’re going to come up trumps without too much trouble.”

“Do you, why?”

“Cary wants the watch and the wedding band found I imagine. I’m inclined to think that Westlake’s theory is the most likely one. Remember this afternoon you said that she wanted the body to be found so that she could claim the insurance? If she did kill her husband I’d be willing to bet that she left those items on the body when she disposed of it, or had someone dispose of it for her. That’s why she went to so much trouble to have the items photographed and record the serial number of the watch − so that when the body was found there’d be no doubt about his identity. If the fisherman or fishermen who found the body have sold them or pawned them then they won’t be far away.”

“You think I’m right then? She killed him.”

“It’s beginning to look like a possibility. But there are a few things troubling me. Our current theory seems too simple, and there are problems with it.”

“What kind of problems?”

“It’s always tempting to ignore inconvenient pieces of evidence if they don’t fit your theory; even Einstein was guilty of that. We’re working on the basis that Cary wanted the body found and wanted it identified so that she could collect the insurance money, but there was no guarantee that the body would ever be found. It was at the bottom of the sea and it was only chance that led to its discovery. Secondly there’s still the driving license in the shoe. I’ve a feeling that this case isn’t as simple as it seems. We may be looking in the wrong place altogether.”

We walked back to the hotel. Lucy was keen to make a start on the pawn shops but reminded me that she had to pick up her business cards first, and they wouldn’t be ready until lunchtime.

“You won’t need those for the pawn shops,” I said. “You just need to pose as someone who wants to buy a Rolex or a gold band. If you find them, you can tell me and I’ll deal with it. I’ll probably have to go to the local police armed with Santos’ letter and get them to seize the items. Take your camera; if you find either of the items just say you want to photograph them to show your boyfriend or something.”

Lucy was a bit disappointed. “What are the cards for then?”

“We’ll think of something,” I promised. “It’s just that if the pawnbrokers know you’re a private investigator they may clam up. You know what pawnbrokers are like – they handle a lot of hot stuff, especially here I should imagine.”

Back in the room we made plans for the next day. It occurred to me that if the body was found by fishermen in Olongapo then that’s where Lucy should start looking for the pawn shops. But when I looked up Olongapo on the internet I was surprised to find it was a much bigger place than I’d anticipated. It was a city of about a quarter of a million people and there were thirty-two pawnshops advertising on the internet alone. There’d no doubt be a lot of others too, the kind of shops for locals who regularly pawned small items with the hope of redeeming them when they could afford it. It would be better for us to go there together tomorrow and get the lie of the land. Lucy was going to have her work cut out for her; we’d probably need to relocate there for a day or two. My assistant was soon going to experience the more mundane side of a private investigator’s life. It might well be a fruitless search too. Even if the items we were looking for had been sold, or pledged, to a pawnbroker they could have been purchased or redeemed by someone else before Lucy got there. Right now I wanted to find out when Dale leased the mooring at Lower Mau and I hoped the police would check that for me, if they hadn’t already done it. In any case I wanted to introduce myself to the person in charge so that I could get police cooperation if I needed it.

Just before we turned in for the night I got a call from Paul Evans. He said that his schedule would enable him to meet us at lunchtime tomorrow. It would take him about fifteen minutes each way for the journey to our hotel which would give him an hour for a chat and some lunch. I suggested the Café for the rendezvous.

“Lunch appointment tomorrow,” I said to Lucy. “Then we’ll pick up your cards and head up to Olongapo. You can make a start with the pawn shops.”

“I thought you said I didn’t need the cards?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to give you a formal introduction to Olongapo’s finest.”

“Who are we meeting for lunch?”

“Paul Evans. He called while you were in the bathroom. He’ll meet us at the Café.”

Lucy climbed into bed and was dead to the world in seconds. I lay there for a while thinking back over the meeting with Cary. I wasn’t sure what to make of her; maybe Evans could help.

*

It turned out that Paul was a man after my own heart. We were sitting under the canopy outside the bar when he arrived, and after a handshake from me and a brief introduction to my assistant investigator, to whom he gave a look of undisguised approval, he declared himself dying for a beer. Even more to his credit, when the waitress approached our table with the menus he waived his away and declared he was going to have a liquid lunch. By way of explanation to Lucy and me he patted his belly and said, “I have a constant problem with my weight so I’m on a diet. I knew I’d have to give something up, so I decided to cut down on the food.” He must have picked up on Lucy’s unspoken disapproval because he added, “Beer’s very nourishing, you know? When my mum was in hospital back in Oz they used to give her a bottle of Guinness every day. I don’t know whether you have that in the States but they say it’s good for you.”

Paul was Australian; he came from Sydney. His family had a share in a leather goods manufacturing business and they’d moved the operation to Subic several years ago to take advantage of the low tax and inexpensive labor. He was about the same age as Dale, I guessed, and had a round, rosy face and a thick-set body.

Lucy ordered a pizza, and a beer to keep us company. I didn’t have long with Paul so I got straight to the point.

“I expect Peter filled you in on the background. I’m here on Dale Porter’s behalf to investigate the death of Larry Sands. I understand you knew Larry quite well and that you also know Dale.”

“Yeah, I don’t know Dale that well but I knew Larry almost from the time I arrived. He’s an easy going kind of guy and we became good friends. We often went out fishing together. He bought his own boat which was his baby as he called it. I went to his wedding too. It was in the north of Zimbales where Cary’s family live. It was a big wedding. Cary was a great find. She and Larry adored each other.”

“So they were happy together?”

“I’ll say. You know there are a lot of local girls who marry foreigners because they want a better life – maybe to emigrate or have nice things; and love is relatively unimportant. But Cary’s not like that. It’s true Larry was good to her but from the moment they met that was it. I never saw Cary look at another guy and she never asked for anything. And she’s very intelligent; well educated too. Her parents speak only a little English, but Cary speaks perfect English. Got a funny accent, mind you, but haven’t we all?”

“So you don’t think that Cary would do anything to harm Larry? Look, we haven’t got a lot of time so I better put my cards on the table. I’d ask you to keep what I’m about to say confidential. I don’t know Cary and I never met Larry. I’ve only seen Dale twice briefly, so you’ll need to bear with me. I’m looking into all aspects of this case and I have to say that I don’t think that Larry’s death was an accident and neither do the police. Dale’s been arrested for his murder. There may be nothing in that but at the moment, as far as I’m concerned, both he and Cary are under some suspicion in relation to his death.”

While I was speaking Paul started to shake his head. I could tell that he was itching to interrupt me.

“Look I don’t know Dale well enough to comment on that but you’re barking up the wrong tree with Cary. No way,” he said, shaking his head, “no way.”

“Larry was a close friend, right?”

“We were good mates,” he said. “I wouldn’t say close exactly, but good friends, yeah.”

“So you want to do what’s right for him?”

“Of course I do.”

“We had dinner with Cary last night. Lucy met Dale in Thailand where he was staying with an American girl he’d met on vacation. It was just a holiday fling, nothing serious. When I mentioned it to Cary, Lucy got the impression that Cary’s reaction was indicative of jealousy. She looked angry. I didn’t pick up on it but Lucy did.”

Paul had a mouthful of beer and he tried to stifle a laugh but ended up spraying it across the table. He apologized and picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“I’m sorry guys but you’ve got the wrong end of the stick there; Cary doesn’t even like Dale. Let me tell you a story. Before Larry and Cary got hitched they were together as a couple for a long time. Dale was Larry’s friend, but one day Dale got a bit drunk and made a pass at Cary. Larry wasn’t there, but Cary was really pissed. Later Larry tried to smooth things over, telling her it was just the drink, but Cary wouldn’t have it. She made Larry read Dale the riot act and then Dale had to apologize to Cary in front of all her friends; it was a bit embarrassing at the time. I don’t think Cary ever really forgave Dale. I wasn’t there when Dale made the pass at Cary but Gary was – he’s another of our friends; but I was there for the apology. Cary had a face like thunder. I think it’s safe to say that Cary didn’t approve of Dale; she thought he was a bad influence. But then something strange happened.”

Paul took a swig from his beer.

“I don’t know who introduced them but Dale started to go with Cary’s sister, Angel. Cary wasn’t happy about it apparently but Dale was quite persistent and Angel became Dale’s girlfriend. I was there once with the four of them in a bar in Olongapo. Dale went to the restroom and Cary said to Larry, ‘If Dale ever does anything to hurt my sister I’ll f− kill him.’ So I think you’ve misread the signs there, Lucy. If Cary thought Dale was playing around with another girl she’d be well pissed because it would show disrespect to her sister. Filipinas take that kind of disrespect seriously, and nobody’s more important to them than their family. Although…”

“Yes?”

“Well I don’t know if Dale and Angel are still together. When I say together I don’t mean physically. As far as I know Dale and Angel were never shacked up together; Angel was still living with her parents. I don’t think Dale’s relationship with her was all that serious and I’m sure he was still playing the field, but Angel might not have known that, God bless her. Anyway, I haven’t seen or heard about Dale since I came back from my vacation. I’d vaguely heard that he’d moved to Manila.”

“Do you know where in Manila?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea mate. You have to understand that people like Dale come and go. They’re like Clint Eastwood in those spaghetti westerns from the 1960’s, except they all have a name; but they have an indefinable past and an uncertain future; they kind of float around Asia looking for the main chance. A lot of them you might see for a few months or even a year or two and then they vanish.”

“Do you know anything about Larry’s boat? It apparently went missing at about the same time as Larry disappeared. Dale told me that Larry gave it to him to settle a debt. As I’m sure you know Peter found it in a mooring leased by Dale in Lower Mau.”

“I don’t know. I know Larry loved that boat but I don’t know about his dealings with Dale. I was back in Sydney in the summer and I was still away when Larry disappeared. I only heard about it when I got back in late September.”

“Cary’s supporting Dale’s claim about the boat, although to be honest I don’t think she knew about the transfer of ownership either. I think she learned about it from Dale after he was arrested.”

Paul chewed this over for a while, and took another swig of beer. Then he said:

“Look, Cary might not approve of Dale but she’d do the right thing if she believed him. And don’t forget she may still consider Dale to be her sister’s boyfriend, although if they have split up it would probably come as something of a relief to her.” Paul took another sip of his beer. “Don’t get me wrong, the incident in the bar was an isolated one and Cary wouldn’t interfere with Larry’s friendships. There are a lot of expats that Cary doesn’t really like much. Well, as you probably appreciate, some of the guys who end up here are not very… prepossessing is the best way I can think of putting it. But she knew that Larry and Dale were good friends so she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him; I think I know her well enough to say that.”

I glanced at my watch. I still had another half an hour with Paul and I didn’t want to waste it. I pressed on.

“Do you know that Larry had a substantial life insurance policy and that Cary’s the beneficiary?”

“Yes, I know. It’s a hundred thousand dollars; that’s a lot of pesos. I went up to see her last weekend because she wanted some advice. The insurers say that the premiums haven’t been paid and there’s insufficient evidence to prove that the body that was found was Larry’s. It’s ridiculous of course. They take the premiums quick enough but when they have to dish it out it’s a different story.” Paul looked at me and Lucy in turn. “Hey, guys… I hope you’re not thinking that Cary would do Larry in for the money. Cary doesn’t care about money that much. She’s got the house, luckily. But fair’s fair. Larry would be spinning in his grave. He’d want her to have the money. Why not? She’s entitled to it.”

“Did she tell you whether she’d tried to make a claim?”

“No, she said she hadn’t. She seemed a bit confused about the whole thing.”

“And the house is worth about a hundred and fifty thousand dollars I’m told.”

“I don’t know who told you that. I don’t really know what it’s worth. I suppose it’s worth whatever somebody will pay for it. I guess a hundred and fifty grand’s probably about right. The land belonged to Cary’s family and I don’t know what the land is worth. Larry paid for the house to be built. It was his wedding present to Cary. But with the cost of construction up here I doubt that the construction of the house cost more than fifty grand. Anyway Cary would never sell that house, it means too much to her. I warned her to be careful. There’ll likely be a few guys beating a path to her door. She’s an attractive young girl with her own house. She’d be quite a catch for somebody, but she’s not interested, I know that.”

“Do you know where Larry got the money for the house,” I said. “I’m just curious because I know he never had a permit to work here.”

“I can’t say for sure. The easiest way to lose a friend is to take too much interest in things like that. But Larry was a gambler, and like all gamblers he had good and bad luck. Maybe he was lucky around that time. But he got into trouble later − that’s why when I heard he’d disappeared I wondered if it was connected with that.”

“With what exactly?”

Paul gave a deep sigh. “The Macau thing,” he said.

“What was that?”

“Larry never applied for a resident visa after he was married. I don’t know why, but it meant he had to leave every month for a few days. He could have applied for extensions of stay at the immigration department but he rarely did that. He mostly used to go to Hong Kong because he had friends to stay with there and the round trip only cost about sixty or seventy dollars. Also he went there because he liked to gamble in Macau. About six months ago he lost a lot of money in Macau. They have Triad loan sharks in the casinos there – local Chinese – who’ll give short-term loans to gamblers at very high rates of interest. Like most gamblers I suppose you hope your luck will change. It didn’t in Larry’s case. After a few hours he owed them a stack of money, although he never told me how much; I know it was in the thousands of US dollars though. When he couldn’t repay the loan he was abducted by the loan sharks and they kept him in some crappy apartment in Macau. They told him he couldn’t leave until he paid them and he’d have to get the money from his family. Well Larry doesn’t have any family there. In fact I’m not sure at all about his family; I only know that none of them came to the wedding.”

Paul paused to order another beer. He looked at his wristwatch and then continued.

“So basically he was kidnapped. Luckily Larry managed to get hold of a friend in Hong Kong; he’s a lawyer I think, Derek something or other, and he went over to Macau. Derek lent him some money and so did Gary, and Larry told me he paid back most of the principal, that’s the money he borrowed, and he promised to repay the rest and the interest later. He told the loan sharks that he needed to get back to Manila to get the rest of the cash, but they had his passport and at first they wouldn’t let him go. The interest he still owed was a lot and they’d keep adding interest until it was all paid back. Eventually two of the loan sharks accompanied him on a flight from Macau to Clark, and they stayed in a hotel in Fields Avenue in Angeles while Larry tried to borrow money. He managed to borrow a bit here and there but it was nowhere near enough. In the end they left. They gave him his passport so that he could renew his visa here but told him he couldn’t leave the Philippines and gave him an ultimatum: he had to raise the money by the end of September. Larry wasn’t sure what kind of people they had in their pockets here, but they told him they’d know if he tried to leave the country. Just before I left for the summer Larry told me that he’d been to Clark and seen one of the guys from Macau in a casino there; maybe more than one I don’t remember. I just remember saying it probably wasn’t him; you know they all look alike or something offensive like that.” He grinned. “But Larry was certain and it freaked him out. He was worried that they’d come to look for him and that they might hurt Cary. He was genuinely frightened, I could tell. When I heard he’d vanished it was the first thing that came into my head. Then after his body was found somebody said his death was an accident and I didn’t think about it much after that.”

“Did you tell the police any of this, Paul?”

“I’ve never seen the police. But you know there’s something else.” He looked at his watch again. “I’ll have to get back to work so if you want more details we’ll have to meet up again. It’s about a bar that he invested in with Dale in Olongapo.”

“Okay, it was good of you to come. We’ll meet again,” I said.

I’d made some notes while Paul was talking. As he was getting up to leave I asked him: “You mentioned somebody called Gary earlier; in connection with the time when Dale made a pass at Cary. If he’s around, I’d like to talk to him.”

“Sure.” Evans scrolled through his cell phone and gave me the number. “Gary Blake. From Oz like me. You’ll get him on his mobile,” he said, as he left the Café.

“His what?” Lucy said as Paul hopped into a nearby cab.

“It’s what they call a cell phone, Lucy. Because it’s portable, and goes everywhere with you.”

“Cool,” she said.

“Seems like we may have misjudged young Cary,” I said.

Chapter Thirteen

Olongapo

I called Gary when we got back to the hotel. Sure he’d come and see us, he said; anytime. So I fixed an appointment for seven o’clock in the same bar. Lucy had started to refer to it as my new office. We hired a taxi and stopped off at the mall to pick up Lucy’s new business cards and then we headed for Olongapo. Lucy ran her fingers over the embossed lettering on the cards and announced herself satisfied. We followed the Argonaut Highway and then the Rizal Highway to Olongapo.

“He seemed like a nice guy,” I said to Lucy. “I can’t think of any reason why he’d be less than truthful about Cary. Do you think his explanation for Cary’s reaction to Dale’s romance was plausible?”

“I guess so. After all we only met her once. Paul would be in a much better position to know about her character than us.”

“He wasn’t so helpful about Dale. Maybe this guy Gary will know more about him. The story about Larry’s abduction in Macau sounded a bit far-fetched to me. I’m not suggesting that Paul had any reason to lie about it but he’d only have known what Larry told him. I’m going to call up Carter tonight in Hong Kong and run it past him, see what he says about it. We’ll have to talk to Paul again when he has time, but in the meantime maybe Gary will know about the bar in Olangopo. You didn’t say much at lunch.”

“I was being decorative. Paul kept having a sly look at me, which I expect you noticed with your sleuthful eyes.”

“It was probably only in your mind’s eye,” I said. “The mind’s eye can be very deceptive.”

We decided on the way that there was no point in embarking on a search of the pawn shops until we found a place to stay there, but I didn’t want to move until I’d seen Paul again, and Gary. As we swung into Olongapo we left the coast road behind. Olongapo wasn’t an attractive city and it was snarled with traffic. We asked the driver to take us straight to Police Station One. Armed with my letter I was able to see a senior inspector called Virgilio Mendoza, only to find we were in the wrong place. Mendoza knew nothing about the matter, but after umpteen phone calls we were told that we needed to head out of the city and take the coast road to Manga beach. This wasn’t in the city of Olongapo but it was still in the municipality. We should contact the local police there as they were the ones who had taken custody of the body after it was recovered from the sea and they were the ones who knew where Sands had moored his boat. They were also responsible for interviewing Hendriks and had probably seized the boat as well.

We climbed back in the taxi and headed away from the city and we soon found ourselves on a small road which twisted and turned along the coast so that for most of the journey we had intermittent views of the ocean. The Manga beach area was little more than a single street lined with tiny shacks, and girlie bars to quench the thirst and satisfy the lustful desires of the local populace and visitors. The beach itself was down a narrow pot-holed track and the police station was next to the beach.

A junior officer showed us the spot where Larry had kept his boat. It was called Baloy Beach. He also indicated the approximate area where the body had been found. Nobody had checked with the owner of the mooring in Lower Mau to determine when Dale had rented the mooring or how long Larry’s boat had been moored there. The words ‘a less than thorough investigation’ echoed in my head. I asked if the police could make further enquiries about those two matters but was told that since the case was now being dealt with by the PNP they were no longer involved in the investigation. All in all it wasn’t a particularly fruitful afternoon.

We found a small hotel with a restaurant that fronted the beach and ordered some fresh calamari and a couple of drinks; melon juice for Lucy and a beer for me. We watched the local children playing on the beach and some fishermen preparing their boats and nets for some night fishing. It was five o’clock and I reckoned we could give ourselves the luxury of half an hour to relax before heading back to Subic for our meeting with Gary. Something had been eating away at me during the afternoon and as the beer started to work its magic I finally realized what it was.

“So far,” I said, “we’ve been told that by early September Larry owed money to Dale and to some Triads from Macau. But apparently Larry insured his watch and a few other items of jewelry for about twelve thousand dollars. The Rolex was insured for ten thousand. Why didn’t he sell those items, at least the watch, to pay off some of what he owed? He would have had the watch when he went to Macau – why didn’t the Triad loan sharks take it off him?”

Lucy popped some calamari into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully for a while.

“Maybe he sold it after it was insured,” Lucy said, “or before it was insured but after the pictures had been taken. Maybe the whole point of insuring the stuff was so that he could realize some money by reporting it lost. That way he could get the money for the watch twice over.”

“I doubt he’d have risked pawning it or selling it to a pawn shop if he was planning to make a claim.”

Lucy stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth and looked at me. “I think he may have sold it to Dale.”

“Why?”

“It’s only come back to me in the last few minutes, but when I saw the picture of the Rolex at Cary’s house there was something familiar about it. I remember now that when I was in Thailand Dale had a Rolex and I’m fairly sure it was the same model. We were having a meal one day and I asked Dale if it was a real one because when I was in Phuket fake watches were being sold everywhere. He took it off his wrist and showed it to me. He told me it was a fake, and he said something about how you could tell it wasn’t real, something about the weight, but I don’t remember exactly what he said. Of course, it might not have been Larry’s – I’m hardly an expert on Rolex watches – but it was very similar to the one in the picture.”

“Well he would’ve still been wearing it at the time he was arrested in Manila, so it would be easy to check. I’ve got a copy of the valuation and it has the watch’s serial number.”

Lucy was mopping up the remaining sauce from the calamari with what was left of her rice. She carefully maneuvered the succulent muddy mixture onto her fork by using her fingers, lifted the fork carefully to her mouth and popped it inside. She placed her fork on the empty plate and sucked the tips of each finger of her right hand before saying:

“Wouldn’t he have told us if Larry had sold it to him?”

We locked eyes. We both had the same unspoken thought.

“If Dale had the watch when he was arrested then the police will have it,” I said. “There may be nothing in it, but it’s worth checking. I can ask Santos to check the serial number.”

“And if it is the same one it would save me the trouble of trawling around Olongapo’s pawn shops,” she said cheerfully and with an undertone of genuine relief.

“It’s likely Cary would have known if Larry had sold it. She obviously thinks he still had it when he met his untimely end or she would have said something when I raised the idea of checking the pawn shops.”

“Except that Larry could have sold it between the last time she saw him and the time he disappeared. She admits that she didn’t report him missing for several days.”

“Then there are three possibilities.” I said. “The first is that it’s not the same watch; but if it is then Dale either bought it or took it as part-payment of Larry’s debt − or he stole it from Larry. And we both know what that would imply.”

“Let’s have another drink,” said Lucy.

At six we rounded up the taxi driver to whom I’d given a couple of hundred pesos for some food. On the drive back to Subic Lucy said, “What do you make of the Triad thing?”

“Well, I assume it probably happened more or less as Paul told us because I can’t think of any reason why Larry would have made it up. We’ll see if Gary can shed any light on it.”

“But it’s hard to see why the Triads would kill him if he owed them money. What would be the point of that?”

“To send a message perhaps, although it doesn’t seem likely. But then there really doesn’t seem to be any motive for Dale to have killed Larry either. An old second-hand boat and a Rolex hardly seem to justify a murder,” I said. “On the other hand people have been murdered for less.”

“So that just leaves Cary. After all she’s the one with the most to gain; especially the insurance money. And the house.”

“Or suicide,” I said. “A man out of his depth with debt taking the easy way out and knowing that his wife would be well provided for because of the insurance.”

“But he could have asked Cary to sell the house if there was no other way out,” Lucy said. “If she loved him as Paul said she did she would hardly have refused.”

“Don’t forget that the land belongs to Cary’s family, and her family is quite poor. The land is probably the only thing of value that they have, so I doubt that selling it to pay off Larry’s debts would have been an option. The other possibility that Paul mentioned was about the bar in Olongapo. We’ll find out more about that the next time we see Paul, I hope. We’re going to need to see Cary again. I want to find out how much, if anything, she knew about the Macau thing. And I want to ask her about the watch again, too.”

We were back at the hotel by six forty five. I went down to the Café at seven. Lucy was still dolling herself up and said she’d be along soon. I took that with a pinch of salt.

Chapter Fourteen

Gary

In contrast with Lucy’s tardiness, Gary was already in the bar when I arrived. He was a tall fresh-faced man in his late twenties with a shock of blonde hair and casually dressed in khaki shorts and a long-sleeved khaki combat jacket. He was wearing flip flops on his feet. He greeted me in the usual Australian vernacular.

“Hello mate. Sorry, I couldn’t wait so I ordered a beer already; can I get you one too?”

“Hi Gary, I’m Kane. Thanks, I’ve grown quite fond of the local beers so I’ll have a San Mig.”

“Excellent choice, mate; try the extra strong one.” Gary called over the waitress and ordered me a Red Horse.

“So Paul tells me you’re a private detective; where are you based, Manila?”

“Boston, USA.”

“Geez, you’re a long way from home.”

“Yes. Well my, er, assistant, Lucy, was vacationing in Thailand and she met Dale Porter there and became friendly with him and his girlfriend. Then she heard he’d been arrested for murder in Manila and urged me to come over to see if I could help him.” I took a long swig from my bottle. “Actually she didn’t urge me to come, she insisted. Well, you know women.”

“Don’t I just? Paul says your assistant’s a real cracker, if I’m not speaking out of turn.”

“She’d have been delighted to have heard that if she were here. She will be here soon, but she’s freshening up in the hotel. We’re staying next door. It might be best not to mention the strength of the beer you ordered for me.”

“Got it mate; no worries.”

“Since she’s my assistant I’d better wait for her to arrive before our chat, but let me fill you in on the background.”

“I’ve got most of it from Paul, I think. Dale’s in jail in Manila because they think he killed Larry. You’re here to investigate the circumstances of Larry’s death and get Dale released. That’s about it, right?”

“Yes, Dale’s remanded in custody while the matter is being investigated. Lucy wasn’t sure there’d be much of an investigation here and I rather think she could be right. So I’m just exploring all the angles at the moment and trying to make sense of everything.”

“Gotcha.”

We’d both finished our drinks and so I ordered another round. The beers came with a bowl of greasy salted peanuts in their husks.

“So what do you do here, Gary?”

“I work for a shipping company, dealing with international freight. I’ve been here over three years and it’s better than working for a living.”

“Well I’m self-employed,” I said, “and so far, working pro bono on this case so I need to wrap things up as soon as possible. I’m hoping you’ll be able to help.”

“I’ll do what I…”

Lucy had arrived wearing extremely short pants and a tight fitting T-shirt. Her tanned shoulders and legs were glowing. She beamed at us and held out her hand to Gary rather in the manner of a royal personage.

“Oh hi, I’m Gary,” he said, eying her chest.

“Lucy,” she said. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve just been tidying myself up. I expect Kane told you, we’ve been to the beach near Olongapo.”

“Well, I’m very pleased to meet you. Kane’s been telling me all about you,” he lied convincingly.

Lucy plumped for a non-alcoholic cocktail but Gary urged her to have a Sex on the Beach instead. “It’s kind of a specialty here,” he said. I was warming to him. Lucy giggled and said, “Well maybe just this once.” I could tell she was in flirting mode and enjoying being the center of attention so I got straight down to business. I’d need to have a word with her later about the appropriate way for an assistant to dress for a business meeting.

Lucy’s drink arrived and she sipped it through its bendy straw. “Ooh, that’s strong,” she said, and then settled back in her wicker chair.

“Well as you probably appreciate Gary, Dale denies any involvement in Larry’s disappearance or death. He’s under suspicion because he was found to be in possession of Larry’s boat which apparently disappeared about the same time as Larry did – around mid-September. I’ve seen Dale since his arrest and he tells me that Larry gave him the boat in September in lieu of a debt of ten thousand dollars which Larry was unable to repay. We’ve been to see Cary and she more or less confirms this account but only in a vague sense. She didn’t actually seem to know much about it. However, she’s adamant that Dale wouldn’t have harmed Larry in any way; that they were friends. Dale says he can’t remember when Larry gave the boat to him, but it must have been between September seven and September fifteen because, according to the immigration records, Dale was away from the Philippines until the seventh and, according to Cary, Larry disappeared on or around the tenth, although she didn’t report him missing until the fifteenth. Of course, those dates aren’t set in stone because we don’t know exactly when Larry met his death. In order to assist Dale as best we can we really need to investigate the circumstances surrounding Larry’s disappearance and death; if possible to find out how he died and, if he was killed, who was responsible.”

“Yeah, Paul told me. He said you suspected that Cary might be involved in some way.”

“Well, it’s no more than a possibility which we need to consider. She stands to benefit substantially from a life insurance policy that Larry had. If Larry was killed, we need to look at whoever may have had a motive. It’s also a fact that the vast majority of murders are committed by someone who knew the victim. It wouldn’t be the first time that a spouse was killed for the insurance. It’s no more than speculation. No-one’s accusing Cary of anything; we just need to look at all the possibilities.”

Gary picked up his empty bottle and studied it briefly. I waved to the waitress to attract her attention, pointed at the bottles and nodded. She disappeared behind the bar and reappeared at the table in seconds. She expertly removed the caps from the bottles with one hand and placed them in the foam insulating jackets on the table. She brought another plate of peanuts too.

“So was it definitely a murder then?”

“Nothing is definite so far. From a medical point of view no-one can say. There’s no definite indication that there was foul play. It could conceivably have been an accident, or even suicide.”

“Larry was a pretty good sailor,” Gary said, “and he was a good swimmer too. If he’d already sold his boat to Dale before he went missing I don’t understand what he was doing out in the bay.”

“Well that’s one of the problems. The other is that there was nothing on him in the way of jewelry – watch, wedding band, bracelet or necklace – to confirm his identity, although his driving license was found in his shoe. In addition to that Cary has identified the body by its teeth. If it weren’t for those two things there’d be nothing to confirm that the body was Larry’s, except that it was the body of a white male about the same height and build as Larry. I got the impression that you knew Larry as well as Paul did; perhaps better.”

“Probably about the same; but to be honest nobody really knew him that well. He was an occasional drinking buddy and we’d both been out fishing with him. We were both invited to his wedding. But Paul and I both work here. We’ve got visas and full-time jobs. Larry pretty much lived the life of a tourist. He’d often leave the Philippines to renew his visa and I wouldn’t say either Paul or I saw him that regularly. He was just one of the expat crowd.”

“And how about Dale?” I said.

“About the same; we were all part of a loose-knit group of foreigners. I’ve known him for about the same amount of time as Larry. Neither of them were close friends of mine, they were just mates.”

“Paul told us that Cary didn’t like Dale.”

Gary thought this over for a while before replying.

“I wouldn’t really put it that way. I think she liked him okay but she didn’t approve of him, of the way he behaved sometimes. Basically there are two kinds of girls you’re going to meet up here as a single foreigner – the good girls and the bad girls. By bad I don’t mean wicked, I mean the ones who are willing to go with more or less anyone who can give them a good time. Cary’s from a good family and she’s a good girl in the sense that she wouldn’t go with a guy she didn’t genuinely like. I don’t know for sure but I got the impression that Larry was the only guy she’d ever been with – either local or foreign. I was with Larry when they met. We were both at the marina here in Subic and she and Larry hit it off straight away, but it was several weeks before it developed into a romance. I never saw Larry with anyone else, and I never heard that either. In a place like this you’d hear the gossip soon enough if there was any hanky-panky going on.”

“And how about Dale?”

“Well he was different. Dale played the field. There’s nothing wrong with that, he was single, he could do what he liked.”

“But he had some kind of relationship with Cary’s sister I understand?”

“Yes, they did hang out together for a while. It was never going to be long-term. I know that Dale had no intention of settling down.”

“Was he faithful to Angel, the sister?”

“I doubt it. I don’t think it was that serious in his eyes.”

“What about in Cary’s eyes?”

“Well Filipina’s are famously jealous and protective of those near to them. I know she didn’t approve of the relationship because she knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere. She thought Dale was just stringing her along.”

“Paul told us about an incident where Dale got drunk and made a pass at Cary and that you were there,” Lucy said.

“Yes,” Gary said, “it was late one evening near the beach at Olongapo. We were at a karaoke bar. Larry was away; I think he was renewing his visa but I can’t recall exactly. Everybody was a bit drunk and Dale was dancing with Cary and, well, he got a bit more intimate than was appreciated. I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm, but Cary didn’t take it well. She stormed off and later made Larry get Dale to apologize to her in public. I was there then too. It was all a bit embarrassing.”

“Was that before or after Dale was involved with Cary’s sister?”

“Oh it was before that. There are some people here who reckoned that he did it to get back at Cary for humiliating him, but who knows?”

“When did that incident happen?”

“A long time ago, before they got married. And things just went on about the same after that; it was water under the bridge if you know what I mean. There wasn’t any other friction between the two of them as far as I know.”

“Paul told us about an incident in Macau involving Larry. Do you know about that?”

“Yes, I do. It was last August. Larry went gambling in Macau and borrowed a stack of money from some unsavory characters there and then he couldn’t repay them. They kidnapped him and brought him back over here to collect the debt.”

“How do you know about it?”

“Because I had to lend him some money; I couldn’t lend him all of it – he owed over twenty thousand dollars, but I lent him seven thousand. Dale was worried that they might find out about Cary and her family and threaten to harm them.”

“But how do you know it happened like he said? Couldn’t it just have been an excuse to get you to lend him some money?”

Gary looked over at me as if he was surprised at the suggestion.

“Because I went there,” he said. “He was in a hotel in Angeles with those bastards. I took the money and they agreed to give him time to pay the rest of it; that was the deal. I was the one who got them to back off, at least temporarily.”

“That was a lot of money to loan a mate. Weren’t you worried he might not repay you?”

“Of course I was concerned but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. And actually he did repay me.”

“Do you mind telling me how? I thought he didn’t have any money.”

“He gave me his Rolex watch which was worth at least that. He said when he got some cash together he’d buy it back off me.”

“If he had a valuable Rolex why didn’t the gangsters take it from him?”

“Coz he didn’t have it with him. Luckily for him it was being repaired in Manila or the bastards would’ve had it off him.”

“And where’s the watch now?”

“You’re looking at it, mate,” he said, extending his wrist across the table. It was a dead ringer for the one in Cary’s photograph.

Chapter Fifteen

The Watch

Lucy looked at me and laughed. She put a hand on my arm. “So much for the pawn shops,” she said.

Gary looked at us quizzically.

“It’s a sort of private joke,” I said. “The missing watch has been the subject of some considerable conjecture between us, because we thought it might have been removed by the person who killed Larry or by the fishermen who found his body.”

“Christ, I hope that doesn’t make me a suspect, mate,” Gary said in mock concern.

“No, I think you’re free from suspicion, but you’ve saved Lucy the agonizing task of traipsing around the pawn shops in Subic.”

“Which calls for another drink, I’d say,” said Lucy.

“Same again?” said Gary.

“Why not?” said Lucy.

“Shall we have something to eat,” I said. “We only had a snack in Olangapo. We can have something here or find somewhere else nearby.”

“I’m okay here,” said Gary. “But if you want we can look elsewhere.”

“Well this has become my sort of temporary office since we arrived in Subic, so we may as well eat here. But you’ll have to let us take you out for a proper meal sometime soon, with Paul if possible. You’ve been a great help.”

The Café provided what turned out to be an excellent seafood platter with freshly cooked fish, king prawns, mussels and calamari. It came with a bowl of rice, a salad and a bowl of bread. While we were eating Gary turned his attention to the mannequin sitting next to me.

“Is there a lot of training involved in becoming a detective?” he said to Lucy, much to her obvious delight.

“It’s not so much the training,” she said, moving her plate to one side and leaning forward with her elbows on the table, drawing enthusiastically from her cocktail and engaging Gary directly, ignoring me as if I was wearing a cloak of invisibility. “It’s more a matter of developing the right approach, which of course only comes with considerable experience. You have to have the right sort of mind. You need to be able to assimilate facts and analyze them carefully. You also need an open mind; there’s a world of difference between having an inquiring mind and a suspicious one. And of course as a woman I have the benefit of female intuition which isn’t to be underestimated. It’s one of the things that Kane finds so useful in having me as his partner.”

Lucy’s self-appointed elevation from temporary assistant to partner did not escape my attention, agog though I was with her description of herself.

“Wow. All that and looks too,” said Gary. “But isn’t it dangerous sometimes? I mean if you’re investigating a murder or a kidnapping or something.”

“It’s something you need to take in your stride,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Of course if there’s any rough stuff I have to leave that to Kane. My forté is really in thinking things through and insightful observation. We have a sort of symbiosis. You could say that the success of our partnership is due to it being one where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. We’re a team, you see?”

She leaned back in her seat and sucked some more of her cocktail. I think she half expected a round of applause.

“Of course what makes this case so challenging is that we’re far from home, not getting paid anything and not making a lot of progress,” I said, to nobody in particular.

I glanced sideways at Lucy but my cloak of invisibility was still firmly in place. Instead she sat forward again in her chair and said earnestly:

“But you know Gary, sometimes you just have to do what’s right.”

I wondered whether the bank would concur with that opinion when I was unable to pay my mortgage.

“Well, back to business,” I said, before Lucy could utter another sound. “Would you mind if I look at the watch? Cary has no knowledge of its transfer to you and was thinking of making an insurance claim in due course. She gave me a copy of an insurance valuation of the watch which contained the serial number.”

“Sure, no worries,” Gary said as he unhinged the gold band and handed it to me. “I’m not surprised Cary didn’t know because Larry wouldn’t have told her about his problems in Macau. I don’t think she ever heard about it.”

“Perhaps it was the same with the boat,” said Lucy.

I wrote down the serial number from the wristwatch. I had the document back at the hotel but from my memory it was the same number.

“Do you think that the gentlemen from Macau could be responsible for Larry’s death?” I said.

“They seemed quite capable of something like that,” Gary said.

“But then they wouldn’t be able to get their money back,” Lucy said.

“Well they’d already got back what they lent him. Larry told me it was a hundred thousand Hong Kong dollars, which is about twelve thousand US dollars, and that a friend in Hong Kong had lent him five thousand. That’s why I came up with the seven grand. The rest of what they said he owed was interest at some ridiculously extortionate rate. But I think they can probably be disregarded in connection with Larry’s disappearance because I don’t think they knew where he lived, apart from the Subic area. After they released Larry I drove him back here from Angeles.”

“It’s not beyond the bounds of possibility they could have found out, is it?” I said.

“No, I guess not. If they crossed a few palms with silver they could probably have done that, especially if they have contacts here.”

“But as far as you knew they never bothered him again?”

“Not directly, but he disappeared only a month or so later, and he told me in September, not long before he disappeared, that he’d seen one of the guys in a casino in Clark, which isn’t that far away.”

“Paul told us that Larry and Dale invested in a bar together in Olongapo,” I said.

“That’s right. There were several partners besides them. The bar had to be owned and fronted by locals because neither Dale nor Gary was allowed to run a business. I can’t tell you much about that, except that it was a bar where the drinking was incidental to the main business, which was hookers, or ‘bar girls’ as they euphemistically refer to them here. I don’t know how much money was involved or what share they each had, and I never saw the bar. All I know is what Dale told me, which was basically that he’d lent Larry some of his share of the stake money and Larry couldn’t pay it back. Maybe that was because of the casino business, I’m not sure. It was around the same time, in early September, that the bar had to close down because they couldn’t keep going without more funding. Larry was the fall guy because he couldn’t come up with the bread. I heard from Dale that the other guys who’d put money into the bar lost their shirts as a result and there was a lot of bad blood between them and Larry. Dale told me they were potentially dangerous enemies.”

“How close would you say Larry and Dale were after the money problems started?”

“We were all just casual friends. Maybe they were a bit closer to each other because they had common interests, mainly about making a buck. If you’re asking me whether their friendship survived the fallout from the bar closure I couldn’t say. I haven’t seen either of them since early September. I haven’t seen Dale since Larry disappeared. I think he’s moved to Manila. It wouldn’t surprise me if I saw him again, but equally it wouldn’t surprise me if I didn’t.”

“From what you know of Dale, his temperament and so on, do you think he’d be capable of violence towards his former friend?”

“I’ve never seen him act violently or aggressively. But who knows what happens when there are arguments or problems between two people? When Larry disappeared it never crossed my mind that it had anything to do with Dale. After Larry disappeared, Paul and I talked about the Macau hoodlums and the bar investors. To be honest we both thought Larry had just done a bunk – you know lying low somewhere else, maybe even gone overseas for a while, or perhaps for good. But then there was Cary, you see. She was Larry’s life. He would never have abandoned her. Then when we heard about his body being found the word was it was an accident. Paul thought it might be linked to his debt problems. It was just idle speculation.”

“But Dale disappeared from the Subic area at the same time that Larry disappeared?”

“I guess so, although I never connected the two things. Dale may have left before Larry disappeared. I can’t be sure when I last saw him. I only know that I haven’t seen him since Larry went missing because if I had I would have discussed Larry’s disappearance with him.”

“Do you remember if Larry ever mentioned to you about transferring his boat to Dale, or did Dale tell you about it? Apparently it happened in September, not long before Larry disappeared.”

“No, I never heard about that. But as I say, he had money problems because of Macau. It’s quite feasible that he used the boat to pay Dale back.”

“And you wouldn’t happen to know who the local shareholders in the Olongapo bar were?”

“Not off hand, but I can ask around if you like. I expect Cary knows; she knew about the problems with the bar and you can bet she’s heard all about the fall-out from the locals. I wouldn’t expect to get much help from them though, even if you can find out who they were.”

Gary was toying with his beer. Something seemed to be troubling him.

“You said earlier that Cary might have a motive to harm Larry,” he said, “because of the insurance policy. There’s something I know about which would knock that theory on the head. It’s also possible that it might have something to do with Larry’s disappearance. It’s something Larry once told me in confidence, but things have changed, haven’t they? Larry’s dead and you guys are here to help find out how and why he died and you’re doing all this for nothing. And you’re the only real chance that Cary will ever get to know the truth.”

“If it was something told to you in confidence then it’s a matter for you and your conscience Gary. If you’d rather think about it for a while that’s okay. But if it turns out to be something relevant to the investigation, particularly if it’s something that may be helpful to my client then I can’t promise not to act on it. The best I can do is to keep the source of the information confidential.”

“I appreciate that.” Gary paused for a while before continuing. “I’m going to tell you for two reasons. First because it absolutely scotches any theory that Cary would have killed Larry for the insurance money, and second because it might lead you to the real killer. But first I’m going to have something stronger to drink.”

Chapter Sixteen

The Suitor

Gary ordered a double rum and coke. Lucy eyed me warily so I stuck with the half bottle of beer left in front of me. Lucy said she was fine, but Gary ordered her another cocktail anyway. We waited until Gary’s drink arrived. He took a couple of sips. Lucy sucked her cocktail through the bendy straw. I looked at her sideways. Her eyes were beginning to glaze.

“Not long after Larry and Cary met she told him she couldn’t see him anymore. Larry was depressed and came to me for advice. He said that Cary told him that she had another suitor – he actually used that word − bit old-fashioned isn’t it? But I can imagine Cary using a word like that. He was a local man, much older than she was but very rich. He’d made it clear to Cary that he wanted to marry her but she wasn’t interested. But her parents put a lot of pressure on her. Cary’s from quite a poor background; her family are farmers. This guy promised a lot of things for them which would have changed their lives, so you can imagine the mental torment she went through. But to cut a long story short Larry was persistent. He went to see her parents and convinced them to let her make her own choice; that their daughter’s happiness was worth more than a few acres of rice and an extra couple of carabao. He won them over and they told Cary that she was free to make her own choice. So Cary told the suitor, but he wouldn’t let it go. It was probably to do with face more than anything else. Anyway, to make their point Larry and Cary made it clear to everyone soon afterward that they were engaged. The jilted suitor sent guys round to Larry’s place to try to intimidate him, and when that didn’t work they tried to buy him off. Larry stuck to his guns and, as you know, they were married. Larry paid for a house to be built on a piece of land that had been in Cary’s family for generations and Larry got on well with Cary’s family. Cary’s got a load of younger brothers and sisters and Larry even helped with the younger kids’ schooling. But once or twice Larry confided in me that he still watched his back. He knew what the jilted guy was capable of. He never felt entirely easy about it.” Gary took another large sip of his rum and coke. “So you see if Cary was interested in money she could have had it on a plate.”

“And you think the jilted suitor might be responsible for Larry’s death?”

“He’s as likely a bet as anyone else we’ve discussed this evening, don’t you think?”

“But do you know who the jilted suitor is?”

“I’m afraid that’s something he never told me. All he said was that the guy was a local politician and that means he’s likely to be not only rich but also powerful and no doubt as corrupt as hell. Certainly influential enough to have had Larry killed if he’d wanted to. Whoever he is he’s probably untouchable as far as the police are concerned, certainly the local police. These politicians are powerful people who operate with impunity outside the law, such as it is, in the Philippines. Look at Estrada.”

“He’s the former president who was convicted of plundering the economy, right?” I said.

“Yeah; an offense for which the death penalty could have been invoked. In the end he didn’t serve a day in prison and now he’s the mayor of Manila. Welcome to Asia, Kane. You have to remember that you’re operating far from home in a country that’s pretty lawless. A man like that can buy himself out of any kind of trouble. No-one will touch him, believe me. Even if you had video footage of him killing someone it probably wouldn’t even get to court. Remember Benigno Aquino? The opposition leader was returning to the Philippines after years in exile and Marcos had him shot by the army as he got off the plane; on video, in full view of the world. So you see why there’s a need to be careful. And I don’t want to stir up a hornets’ nest for Cary. All I’m saying is that in my opinion Cary didn’t kill Larry nor would she be a party to anyone who wanted to hurt him. But if that guy is still carrying a torch for Cary then maybe he’d be capable of arranging Larry’s murder.”

“We’re very thankful to you,” Lucy said. “You’ve solved the mystery of the watch and saved me a leg of (hic)…lot of leg work so we’ll forgive you for adding to the increasing list of suspects.” She smiled tipsily at Gary.

“It’s been a pleasure to help. I hope the two of you will keep me in the loop, and maybe we’ll get together again with Paul. In the meantime, happy hunting,” he said.

“And you’d better tell Cary about the watch,” I said. “You may as well tell her about the Macau trouble too, she has a right to know about it, particularly as it may be linked to Larry’s disappearance. It’s something I’m really going to have to talk to her about.

“Sure, of course I will. I guess it doesn’t matter so much anymore.”

We said our goodbyes and Lucy and I made our way back to the hotel. Lucy wasn’t blasted but she was tipsy. She hung on to me on the way back to the room. It wasn’t a good time to take her to task on her ramblings to Gary in the bar.

“With everything we’ve found out the case against Dale seems a bit thin,” she said. “I mean just because he’s (hic) got Larry’s boat…”

Lucy was trying to talk to me and brush her teeth at the same time.

“And had perhaps tried to disguise it by painting over the name and moving its location,” I said. “But I agree, it’s not much to hang a murder rap on.”

“Especially since the insurance company aren’t even satisfied that the body is Larry’s,” said the voice from the bathroom. “If they’re not sure then Dale shouldn’t be in jail at all, should he?”

“Well insurance companies are notorious for looking for ways out of honoring life policies, but the fact is that there’s a very strong circumstantial case regarding the identity of the body. Cary’s identified it, Larry’s driving license was found on the body, he’s disappeared without a trace, the remains match Larry’s height and build, he hasn’t used his passport and the decomposition of the body more or less matches the time frame between Larry’s disappearance and the discovery of the body. The problem for Dale is that as a tourist he’s an obvious flight risk, so the police won’t want to risk him leaving the country until they’re satisfied he’s not involved.

“Even if it is Larry, there’s no evidence that it was a homicide is there? If they can’t establish the cause of death, how can they play it as a murder?”

“It’s called circumstantial evidence Lucy. You know, where the sum of the parts amount to sufficient proof (so that the whole becomes greater than the sum of the parts, I thought to myself, smiling at the memory of Lucy's earlier ramblings). If Larry had sold his boat how did he get out to sea? If he went out sailing with someone else they probably would have noticed if he’d fallen in and reported it to someone, don’t you think?”

“I think we should see Cary again and find out what she knows about the gambling debt, the failure of the bar and the mysterious jilted suitor,” Lucy said.

“Okay, I’m going to let you ask the questions this time. After all it’s your case – you brought me here and I’m not getting paid by anybody. To be honest I’m beginning to wonder if it’s going to be feasible to determine how Larry met his end. The information about the Macau gangsters, the bad blood over the closure of the bar and possibly the jilted suitor is hearsay. The problem is Cary’s report to the police. In view of what she told them about the boat being missing it’s going to be difficult to persuade them that she knew about the transfer of the boat to Larry. We need to see Cary again, and soon. Perhaps as my self-appointed new partner you’ve got a few ideas of your own,” I ventured.

I was talking to no-one. I’d been standing looking out of the window and Lucy had crept noiselessly into bed and passed out.

The next morning, at our usual breakfast venue, I told Lucy that we had to take stock of the situation. We’d now been here a week and we both needed to get back home. As Lucy, apparently none the worse for wear, carefully spooned rice into her mouth I said:

“Have you any recollection of the gibberish you were talking last night?”

The fork stopped half way to its destination for a moment and then continued its journey.

“I think I was slipped a mickey,” she said with her mouth full.

“I’ll take that as a no. Are the marbles back in place now?”

She shook her head vigorously first from side to side, then up and down, and grinned at me.

“Aye aye, cap’n,” she said.

“I think we should follow up on the bar thing. Paul said he knew something about that; I’m going to see if he’s free to see us again later. Lunchtime if he can make it.”

Lucy picked up her half-empty glass of orange juice and swallowed what was left. We walked back to the hotel and I called Paul. He said he’d be working over lunch but would be free early in the afternoon. “Same place?” he said. I told Lucy the meeting was fixed for three o’clock.

“There’s a kind of Sea World just a few miles down the coast from here,” Lucy said. “I saw the brochure in the hotel. Why don’t we scoot down there? After all we may as well do something a bit touristy if we’ve nothing else to do. And since we’ve found the watch I won’t have to check the pawn shops.”

“I could still make you search for the wedding band.”

“The wedding band probably slipped off Larry’s skeletonized finger and is lying at the bottom of the sea.”

“Is this your analytical mind at work or is it a theory of convenience?”

Lucy ducked the question. “The fact that Cary didn’t know that Larry had given the watch to Gary,” she said “makes the possibility that Larry didn’t tell her about the boat more plausible, don’t you think?”

“Except that the reason Larry didn’t tell her about the watch is because he didn’t want her to know about the hoods from Macau. She already knew about the debt Larry had incurred because of the bar.”

“You haven’t said whether you want to come with me to Sea World?”

“Do they have a bar?”

Lucy booked a cab to take us to Sea World. It was about a half hour drive south and it wasn’t exactly Orlando, but the dolphins drew a few ‘ahs’ from Lucy. As far as I was concerned if you’ve seen one dolphin you’ve seen them all. On the way back to the hotel I shared my concerns about our lack of progress in the investigation with Lucy.

“Lucy I’ve been in the Philippines for a week. In another week I’ll be broke. We need to wrap this thing up and go home. The list of suspects for Larry’s disappearance is growing daily. We have mysterious gangsters from Macau, disgruntled partners from a defunct Olongapo bar and a jilted suitor, all of whose identities are unknown to me and none of whom I particularly want to get acquainted with. Much as I’d like to get to the bottom of all this it’s time to focus on our real goals – to get Dale out of jail and to get the hell out of here. It seems to me that we should be concentrating on the boat. If what Dale has told us is the truth, there must be someone else who knows about it. According to him he had the boat throughout October; perhaps he took some friends out on the boat to celebrate his new toy. I’m considering giving Dale an ultimatum – if he can’t come up with anyone at all who knew about the transfer of the boat I’m half inclined to leave him to his fate.”

“Well we’ll just have to keep digging. That’s our job, isn’t it? Let’s at least give it another couple of days. We’ll see what Paul knows about the bar and maybe we can follow that up. We can’t just abandon Dale. Anyway Cary knows about the boat,” Lucy said.

“I’ve already been there, Lucy. I don’t believe her – she’s just telling us what Dale wants us to hear.” We sat silently for a few minutes, and then I said: “Next time you go on vacation I’m going to insist that a chaperone goes with you. Why couldn’t you just have a normal vacation like everyone else?”

Lucy went into a sulk as the taxi made its way along the coastal road back to the hotel. “It’s not my fault,” she said.

I patted her leg. “I know,” I said. “I’m not blaming you, it’s just that it’s frustrating and there’s no end in sight.”

Lucy was gazing out of the taxi window. Without turning her head, she said, “And dolphins aren’t all the same; they’ve got personalities. They reckon they’re more intelligent than people, too.”

More intelligent than some people, maybe, I thought; but I kept that thought to myself.

Chapter Seventeen

The Big Picture

Paul was as good as his word. He was waiting for us in the Café when Lucy and I arrived.

“So how’s your investigation going,” he said. “Any luck?”

“Not really, Paul. The key to helping Dale is to find some evidence that supports his claim about being given the boat by Larry. So far we haven’t found anyone who can verify that; except Cary, and I told you about my reservations in that regard. As you know, we’ve spoken to Gary and he at least confirms that Larry got into financial difficulties as a result of his investment in the bar with Dale. That tends to confirm what Dale told us – to the extent that Larry was in debt to him because of the bar. But it doesn’t corroborate Dale’s story that the boat was transferred to him by Larry in lieu of repayment. So far we haven’t met anyone who is able to confirm that.”

The waitress approached and I ordered beers for Paul and myself. Paul asked Lucy what she’d like.

“She’ll have a coconut juice,” I said. “Lucy’s not drinking any more alcohol for a while.” Lucy looked at me sheepishly.

“One of us has got to keep a clear head,” she said to Paul.

“So if you could ask around, Paul, to see if anyone else can help in that regard it would be very helpful. In the meantime, you were going to tell us something about the investment in the Olongapo bar. Gary was able to tell us a little about that, but he was a bit vague on the details, and he only knew what Dale told him; and it didn’t include the transfer of the boat.”

“So did Gary tell you that the bar had to close because Larry couldn’t come up with his share of the money?”

“That’s right, yes,” I said.

“Well there was a bit more to it than that. I probably know more about it than Gary because I spoke to Larry about it at the time. It’s true about Larry having financial difficulties, and Larry himself told me that there was a bit of bad blood because of the shortfall – but I think they just used that as an excuse to get Larry out.”

Paul took a sip of his beer before continuing.

“The bar was to be a typical Philippine tourist bar. I’m sure you know what I mean; plenty of girls to drink with the customers – girls available for more than just drinks.” Paul looked uncomfortably in Lucy’s direction.

“It’s okay Paul, Lucy’s a woman of the world.” I said. He smiled.

“Well Larry was okay with that, but only if the girls were all adults. He was fiercely against any kind of exploitation. He was very much opposed to underage girls being permitted access to the bar. He told me it created friction – not with Dale, but with the local members of the syndicate who were involved as investors. All they were concerned about was maximizing profits. Larry believed that they used his inability to come up with his share of the cash as an excuse to get rid of him. He told me that he didn’t believe that the bar had to close because of his failure to come up with his full share of the cash. After all, they could easily have found an extra partner, or an alternative one – but that would’ve entailed returning to Dale and Larry the money they’d already paid. So he thought the whole thing was a con. It turned out he was right.”

“You mean the bar didn’t close?” I said.

“Yes and no. That venture, which included Dale of course, collapsed. But the local investors have since opened a bar at the exact same location. The name’s different than the one that was originally proposed, but it’s essentially the same bar, with the same group of investors – except that Dale and Larry are no longer part of it.”

“And neither Dale nor Larry got any of the money back that they’d invested?” I said.

“Exactly – it seems like they were swindled. Larry didn’t live long enough to see his suspicions realized, but the fact is that the local investors didn’t lose money as they claimed to Dale and Larry – on the contrary, it looks like they cheated Larry and Dale out of the money they’d already invested.”

“I think I’d like to go and visit this bar,” I said. “What’s it called and where exactly is it?”

“It’s now called The Firehouse – it’s in Manga Beach. It’s on the main street so it’ll be easy to find. I’m afraid I can’t tell you the names of any of the partners. They’re all locals now.”

“Does Gary know about this?”

“Probably not. I guess I took more of an interest with what happened to the bar after Larry and Dale lost their investment because of what Larry had told me about his suspicions. I haven’t spoken to Gary about it, and I haven’t seen Dale for months so I never had a chance to talk about it with him either.”

“Well thanks, Paul. Your information has been very helpful. But I’d be grateful if you could follow up on the boat thing. Let me know if you come across anyone who may be able to confirm the transfer of the boat to Dale.”

Paul said he’d do his best and Lucy and I went back to the hotel.

“Well that gets rid of one set of suspects,” I said. “If what Paul says is true then the local investors had no axe to grind with Larry.”

“Is there any point for us to visit the bar, then?” Lucy said.

“Not really,” I said, “except to see what kinds of assholes are running the place, and see if I can confirm what Paul has just told us. I’m sure he’s told us the truth as he understands it, but he’s probably relying on word of mouth – perhaps gossip. If we can confirm what he’s told us then it removes the bar owners from any suspicion regarding Larry’s death. If what Paul says is true then they owe Larry’s widow ten thousand bucks and Dale thirty thousand. That would be more than enough to pay my fee.”

“Do you think we can get the money back, then?”

“No, I’m afraid we’re out of our depth here. What Paul told us may well be true but it’s not evidence. No doubt the bar owners have the local police in their pockets – they’d have to if they’re operating a bar with underage girls. I expect the local police will be getting their cut too.”

“Do you think Cary knows about all this?”

“I guess not, or she’d probably have said something. But from the point of view of our investigation it at least narrows the field. From what Paul told us the bar owners had no reason to want Larry harmed − they’d got what they wanted from him and Dale already.”

“So that just leaves three suspects for the murder,” Lucy said, “Cary, the gang from Macau and the jilted suitor.”

“Four including Dale,” I said. “But frankly I think we can discount the gang from Macau. People who want money from someone rarely want them dead.”

“So that only leaves Cary, Dale and the jilted suitor then?”

“As far as we know; but Larry seems to have led a complicated life. Maybe there are others we don’t know about,” I said. It was a sobering thought.

We decided to spend the afternoon by the poolside and get a taxi to the bar in the evening. It was an opportunity for us to review what we’d learned from the investigation so far and see if we could narrow down the list of suspects further.

“Let’s start with the jilted suitor,” I said. “I would put him at the bottom of the list as far as the suspects go. It doesn’t seem to me that his motive for wanting Larry out of the way bears much scrutiny. If he had arranged for Larry to be killed so that he could have another crack at Cary, then why dispose of the body that way? A missing person wouldn’t be presumed to be dead. I don’t know what the law is here, but back home you’d have to wait seven years before such a presumption is made – and don’t forget that Larry’s body was only found by chance. So if the theory is that he did it to get Larry out of the way so that he could have another go at Cary then it doesn’t make logical sense. It would have been more appropriate for him to have Larry killed in such a way that it appeared to be an accident – or death by an unknown assailant. That way Larry’s death wouldn’t have been in doubt and the path would have been clear for him to try his luck with Cary again. I think his involvement is too far-fetched and unlikely to keep him on the list of suspects.”

“And you think the Macau gangsters can also be removed from the list?”

“With the jilted suitor out of the picture the Macau loan sharks are at the bottom of the list as far as I’m concerned. According to Gary, most if not all of the original loan was paid off – the remaining sum was the exorbitant interest. I can’t think of any logical reason for them to kill the golden goose. So long as Larry was alive there was always the chance that they could recover some more money from him. Unsavory characters though they may be, they would essentially be businessmen. Dead men don’t repay debts. As far as I’m concerned that removes them from the list too.”

“But that only leaves Dale and Cary,” Lucy said.

“I’m afraid it does; either acting alone or together.”

“But from what Paul and Gary have told us Cary doted on Larry. It doesn’t make sense that she’d want him dead.”

“With Larry dead Cary gets the house and probably a substantial insurance payout. On the other hand, if what Paul and Gary have told us about their relationship is true – and we have no reason to believe otherwise – she’s not a person who would be motivated by greed; and she had the house anyway – it was all in her name. Divorce is forbidden in the Philippines of course, so if she had some reason for wanting to free herself from Larry for some reason unconnected with money then his death would be the only way forward. But what possible reason could there have been? I can’t think of any, can you?”

“No, I can’t. And we’ve met Cary. I can’t bring myself to believe that she’d be connected with his death in any way – and wouldn’t the same argument that you made for the jilted suitor apply to Cary? If she wanted to be free of Larry for whatever reason she would have wanted his death to be known. She wouldn’t have any reason to dispose of his body in a way that might have resulted in him never being found.”

“I agree. So I think this leads to an inevitable conclusion, don’t you? If we remove Cary from our list of suspects it only leaves Dale.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Lucy said dejectedly, “by a process of elimination.”

“I’m afraid Dale has always been the obvious suspect,” I said, “but because he’s our client – and your friend − we’ve been trying to find somewhere else to lay the blame. But let’s analyze the case against him carefully and objectively. I admit there’s really only the missing boat which points the finger at him, so let’s consider the evidence. First, we know that the boat was found in a mooring rented by Dale. Second, the name had been erased by painting it over. Third, I am sure that Cary didn’t know that Dale had the boat when she reported Larry’s disappearance and fourth no-one else is apparently aware of the transfer of the boat to Dale. Now we have to consider the implications of all these facts. Is there anything I’ve missed?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay, let’s consider the first of these points. If Larry had voluntarily transferred the boat to Dale why would he have found it necessary to move the mooring? I can’t think of any reason for that.”

“No,” Lucy said. “Neither can I.”

“The second point then. Is Dale’s explanation for painting over the name a plausible one? You remember the reason he gave us when we went to see him in Manila”

“Yes, I remember” Lucy said. She’d stood up now, walked over to the railings and was gazing out over the ocean. “It’s not really plausible is it? It might be a bit more believable if he’d actually changed the name, but he said he was only thinking of changing the name. And anyway, why bother to change the name at all. When you look at everything objectively it doesn’t really make sense.”

“I think we can deal with points three and four together,” I said, standing up and going over to join Lucy. I could see she was miserable. I put my arm around her to comfort her.

“In my opinion, it’s too far-fetched to accept that nobody except Dale would have known about the transfer – that he wouldn’t have at least mentioned it to someone else, or that Larry wouldn’t have mentioned it; maybe not to Cary, but to someone. Whatever Cary may say about it now, her report to the police following Larry’s disappearance proves that she didn’t know about it at the time. As I said before, I’m sure she’s changed her story to lend credibility to Dale’s account, and she’s done so at his request. But it does raise an important question. Why would she do that?”

“I guess there are only two possible explanations,” Lucy said. “Either she knows that Dale isn’t responsible for Larry’s death, or she believes his protestations of innocence and she’s trying to protect him.”

“If the first explanation is correct then it suggests that she knows who was responsible,” I said. “If the second is correct then it’s just a simple act of friendship. But it still begs the question of why she’d stick her neck out for him like that.”

“Anyway, it doesn’t help because she can’t change her story to the police now.”

“Well, only if she says that she only found out about the transfer of the boat after she made the report. But then she’d have to explain how she found out. Saying that Dale told her so isn’t going to cut the mustard.”

“So you think there’s nothing more that we can do? We’ll just have to let events take their course and Dale will have to take his chances in court one day.” Lucy said. She seemed resigned to that now.

“I’m prepared to fly back to Manila for another meeting with Dale,” I said. “We know a lot more about the background to this case now. If he’s really innocent it’s time for him to cut the crap and be frank with us. I don’t think we’ve been told the whole story – not by a long way.”

Lucy decided it was time to cool off. She dived into the pool and then floated on her back. After a few minutes she clambered out and went to sit at a table under a parasol. We’d brought a cold-bag with some drinks and Lucy fumbled about inside it trying to find something non-alcoholic. Finally she found herself a coke and cracked open a can of San Miguel for me.

“You know there’s still the question of motive,” she said. “We don’t know of any motive for Dale to have killed Larry. He can’t have done it for the boat.”

“Motive isn’t something that the prosecutor needs to prove in a murder case. At least it’s not in the States and I’d be surprised if it was any different here. The case against Dale is circumstantial – based upon inference. I have to say it’s not the strongest of cases though, because there’s no evidence as to the cause of death. I’ve been thinking about that, and I have a theory that may explain the absence of apparent motive.”

“How do you mean?” Lucy said.

“From everything we’ve learned about this case and the people concerned it seems unlikely to me that Larry was intentionally killed. I’m inclined to the view that perhaps Dale killed him accidentally. There may have been a fight, perhaps because of the tension caused by Dale losing what can only be described as a substantial amount of money. Despite what Paul told us this afternoon Dale would have considered Larry responsible. I appreciate that it’s only speculation on my part, but it’s speculation based on a number of factors. If Larry was killed by Dale accidentally it makes more sense of the big picture.”

“But if it was an accident why doesn’t he say so?”

“Well if I’m right he’s rather dug a hole for himself now.”

“How do you mean?” said Lucy. She’d returned to a sunbed and she turned towards me, raising herself on one elbow as she did so.

“Let’s follow my theory through. Suppose Dale killed Larry accidentally. The fight might have occurred on the boat itself or it might have occurred somewhere else. Either way Dale may have been frightened to admit he was responsible for the death. Perhaps he panicked. But his actions since then will only have made things more difficult. If he supplies that explanation in court now, he may not be believed – even if it’s the truth.”

Lucy thought this over for a while. “I think we should go back and see him again. If your theory’s correct then it would be better for him to make a clean breast of it as soon as possible.”

“I agree. It’s possible Cary might be able to help him in that regard.”

“How?”

“Well as I said a few minutes ago, looking at the big picture and assuming my theory to be correct it’s possible that Cary knows it was an accident. It would explain why she’s willing to stick her neck out for him about the boat. She may even have been present when Larry died. You remember the photograph she showed us? The three of them used to go out on the boat together. If Larry was killed accidentally whilst they were at sea and his body either fell or was thrown overboard she may have been there. That might also explain why she’d identified the body even though it was apparently in an unidentifiable state when it was found. It may have had nothing to do with the teeth. She knew it was him because she was there when he was thrown overboard. All this is speculation, but don’t you see how the pieces of the jigsaw fit neatly together when viewed in this way?”

Lucy thought this through. “I can see that,” she said. “But I think there’s something you’re overlooking.”

“Which is?”

“The driver’s license in the shoe. Your theory about that was that it was put there by Larry so that his body would be identified when it was found – as a clue to lead police to his killer. If they knew who the dead man was then it would help them find his assailant. If he was killed accidentally then that can’t be the explanation.”

“The finding of the license can still be made to fit the big picture,” I said, “with a minor adjustment. Even if his death was an accident it would be a difficult decision to commit his body to the sea without any hope for a Christian burial one day. This would be especially true if Cary was present – you know how fervently religious the Filipinos are? Placing the license in the shoe before disposing of the body would ensure that when it was eventually found it would be identified and the remains given a proper burial.”

“Let’s get back to Manila,” Lucy said. She’d cheered up a bit. “If you’re right and we can make Dale see sense then we can still help him. But maybe we should run all this past Cary first. What do you think? If she already knows about it, we could explain that it’s in Dale’s interests for her to come clean. To tell us what she knows – what really happened.”

“That’s a possibility – I’ll give it some more thought. We’re going to visit the bar anyway tonight and we have to pass Cary’s house on the way there − and the way back. Let’s have an early dinner next door and then head off.”

Chapter Eighteen

The Firehouse

We walked to the Café next door for dinner. We were getting to be their best customers. Neither of us was very hungry so we ordered some pancit to share – thin noodles in a soy dressing with pieces of pork, shrimps, green onion and cooked lettuce.

“The more I think about your new theory the more it makes sense,” Lucy said, between mouthfuls of food. “And I hope you’re right because it still means we can help if Dale’s frank with us, especially with Cary’s backing.”

“And I hope I’m right too, so that I can get back to earning a living again,” I said.

“I had an email from Brenda this morning,” she said. “Nothing’s going on there. ‘All quiet on the western front’ is what she actually wrote.”

“Quite a wit then, our Brenda.” I said.

“She wants to know when we’re coming back.”

“Well let’s hope we have some good news for her tomorrow,” I said.

After dinner we hired a taxi to take us to Manga Beach. On the way I spoke to Lucy about Cary.

“I don’t think we should see Cary before we’ve spoken to Dale,” I said. “He’s our client after all. If he decides to dig his heels in and stick to his guns, we’ll just have to let it go. If he decides to come clean and Cary is in a position to help him then it’ll be a matter for them. Either way I can’t afford to stay here much longer.”

Just before eight the taxi rolled into the town. A number of garish bars, hardly noticeable during the daytime, lined each side of the main street. We’d booked a return trip in the taxi, so I told the driver to be there to pick us up in an hour, and then we set off down the street to look for the Firehouse. It was situated on a dusty street corner and loud music wafted out through the swing doors. Inside a bar about fifty feet long ran the full length of the room, and behind the bar was a stage. The bottom of the stage was at eye level for the patrons seated at the bar, of which there were not many; it was probably too early. On the stage three fireman’s poles were arranged equidistantly apart and either side of each was a bikini-clad girl holding the pole with one hand and lazily moving from one foot to the other in time with the music, with movements that I guessed were designed to simulate dance steps. Everything in the bar looked shiny and new, except the girls who looked tired and jaded. In front of the bar was an open area where I guessed customers would eventually be seen cavorting with the girls, and part of this area was a raised dais about six inches from the floor.

I ordered a beer and a coke for Lucy, and asked the waiter if we could see the manager. He didn’t ask me why. A few minutes later a middle-aged Filipino dressed in dark trousers and a barong tagalog introduced himself.

“Yes sir, I’m the manager, my name is Rico. What can I do for you?” he said, in heavily accented English.

“I’d like to speak to one of the bar owners if possible. I’m here with my assistant making some inquiries on behalf of the PNB about the death of an American citizen – nothing directly to do with this establishment,” I said. I gave him a copy of Santos’ letter. “I believe the owners of the bar, or at least most of them, were acquainted with the deceased and I’m trying to fill in some background to the inquiry. I won’t take up much of their time.”

“Mr. Rosario is here tonight,” he said. “I’ll go and find out if he’ll see you.”

After a few minutes Rico was back. Would I care to follow him?

He led us up some stairs at the edge of the bar to an office situated in a cock-loft. Behind a desk was an elderly Filipino chewing a toothpick. He stood up as we came in.

“I’m Manny,” he said, “Manny Rosario. I’m told you are making enquiries into the death of Mr. Sands.” He sat down and motioned us to do the same. He removed the wooden toothpick from his mouth, leaned back in his semi-circular desk chair, and continued.

“It is very tragic what happened to Mr. Sands. He drowned I am told. He and I were business partners once, I expect you are aware of that, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything relating to his death.”

He spoke slowly and deliberately with a pronounced Philippine accent. He had loose-fitting dentures in place of his upper teeth and made a slight sucking noise as he drew them back into place after he spoke.

“I’m not expecting you to know anything about that,” I said. “I’m interested in your former business relationship.”

Manny seemed mildly surprised by my remark. He eyed me suspiciously and slipped his toothpick back between his dentures and his lower teeth.

“There’s not much to tell. He was one of several persons who invested in a new bar which was planned. Unfortunately, he had to withdraw eventually because he wasn’t able to come up with his share of the money.”

“I understand that the proposed bar is the one we’re in now.”

Manny pondered this for a moment. “This bar is in the same location, it’s true, but the investors are different.”

“They’re the same aren’t they?” I said, “except for Mr. Sands and Mr. Porter.”

“The core investors are the same, but after Mr. Sands and Mr. Porter withdrew we found another investor to replace them.”

“What happened to the money that Sands and Porter invested before they withdrew?”

“Well, that was already spent,” Manny said.

“On what, exactly? Do you have any accounts from that time?”

Manny waved his hand dismissively as if trying to dispel a fly that was bothering him. “In order to obtain a license for premises such as these,” he said, “there are certain expenses that need to be paid that don’t appear on any formal accounts; to smooth the way forward. To ‘oil the wheels’, I think you say in your country.”

“According to my information, Mr. Rosario, neither Mr. Sands nor Mr. Porter withdrew. They were told that the bar had to close because of a lack of funds. They were told that everyone was in the same boat as them – that all the money had been lost.”

“At that time we didn’t expect to be able to, how shall I put it, resurrect the bar. It was believed that the venture was finished. Luckily some time later we received an offer from another party, so we were able to salvage it.”

“Then don’t you think you should reimburse Mr. Porter and Mr. Sands’ widow for the amount they invested in the bar – or at least some of it?”

“Perhaps in the fullness of time, when the business is more established and we are making a profit we might consider an ex gratia offer to our former investors. I’m not an unreasonable man, Mr. Kane. I’m a businessman, but I’m not without a heart.”

“Who took over Mr. Sands’ and Mr. Porters’ share of the bar, Mr. Rosario?” I asked.

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to disclose the partner’s names, Mr. Kane. Somebody might expect us to pay some tax in due course.” He smiled broadly, his dentures falling noticeably. He sucked them back into place.

“I expect your manager showed you the letter from Superintendent Santos,” I said. “I’m sure there are other ways that I can find out the information I’m asking for. Since I’m only inquiring into the circumstances of Mr. Sands’ death, it might be more prudent to supply the information to me rather than have some government department looking into the matter in due course.”

Rodriguez smiled again; this time a thin, closed-lip smile.

“Very well,” he said. “But I cannot give you any formal document you understand. These things are confidential. The new investor’s name is Antonio Gonzales.”

The name meant nothing to me. I hardly expected it would.

“Well we won’t trouble you anymore,” I said. “But you might like to make a mental note about the possible ex gratia payment – in case it slips your mind in future.”

“Please make yourself at home in the bar,” Rosario said. “Everything’s on the house. But now if you’ll excuse me?”

Lucy and I went downstairs to the bar. We didn’t linger. We walked down the road to look for our taxi. It was less than an hour since we’d parted company with the taxi driver and he was nowhere to be seen. Close to where the taxi had dropped us there was a bench seat made from a plank of wood balanced between two oil drums. We sat down to wait.

And then my cell phone rang. It was Cary. She’d found the receipt.

Chapter Nineteen

The Receipt

“Well, perhaps my carefully thought-out theory is incorrect after all,” I said to Lucy as we drove back to the hotel.

“It’s probably a forgery,” Lucy said.

“You still have bad vibes about Cary, don’t you,” I said.

“Female intuition.”

“Your female intuition didn’t seem to work too well the last time we were there. Anyway if it’s a good enough forgery to spring Dale and get us out of here it’ll be fine by me.”

“Even if he’s guilty of Larry’s death and Cary’s covering up for him?”

“Suppose it is a forgery, and suppose my theory’s correct. Perhaps this is the best solution.”

“You just want to get home – you’re letting your analytical mind be swayed by considerations of convenience,” Lucy said.

“That’s not fair, Lucy. Our job was to get Dale out of jail. We gave him the benefit of the doubt and tried to establish that he wasn’t responsible for Larry’s death, and in doing so we’ve been trying to find evidence that someone else was responsible. But we’re not policemen; we have no duty to investigate this case to its conclusion. We have to stick to our original assignment. My latest theory, having reviewed all the facts we’ve been able to uncover, is that Larry’s death was probably caused by Dale but that it was probably accidental. Now Cary says she has found the receipt which Dale told us about, so maybe my theory was wrong. But suppose it is a forgery – the receipt is probably good enough to get Dale released. I’m pretty sure he isn’t a murderer, and that’s what he’s being held for. Suppose he is released as a result of a falsified document? If Larry’s death was accidental, as I suspect, then what real damage is done? Don’t forget that Larry was Cary’s husband – to whom she was apparently devoted – and if she’s complicit in some way in trying to secure Dale’s release using a false document then who are we to argue?”

“I guess you’re right. As usual,” she said, digging me in the ribs.

“Here’s the plan,” I said; “a quick drink in The Café when we get back and then an early night. We’ll go and see Cary tomorrow, collect the receipt and get back to the hotel. We can arrange a dinner for Paul, Gary and Hendriks, if they’re available, and head back to Manila the day after.

“By a quick drink do you mean only one drink or more than one that you’re going to drink quickly?” Lucy said.

I didn’t bother to reply.

The next morning, we were up early. For the first time in a week I was in high spirits. The news from Cary had cheered me up considerably. After breakfast I called the police headquarters in Manila and was told that Santos would be on duty later in the afternoon. I didn’t want to talk to anyone else so I’d have to wait. I called Cary and said we’d be up to see her after lunch, then we went for a walk along the sandy promenade near the hotel. Lucy was in a pensive mood.

“I thought you’d be more cheerful,” I said.

“End of vacation blues I expect,” she said. “Can we still go to Bangkok?”

“I guess so. If we can get this sorted out tomorrow, we could fly out over the weekend and spend a couple of days there before heading home. The work’s probably piling up for me there.”

“Don’t you think that Brenda would’ve called if there’d been any inquiries?”

“Yes, that’s been puzzling me a bit. You’d better call her again. Maybe she’s off sick or something and the office is unmanned. Or unwomanned.”

“She sent me another email yesterday,” Lucy said. “She’s happy to help out until we get back but she asked if she could forward the calls and work from home.” Lucy eyed me mischievously. “She says there isn’t much to do and it sometimes feels like the walls are closing in on her.”

“She’s supposed to be doing her college work. If there’s nothing to do then she should be able to do lots of it, especially as she won’t be distracted by staring out of the window.”

Lucy ignored my rather perceptive observation.

“So shall we relax a bit this morning, then we can motor up to see Cary after lunch and get the receipt? I can book us a flight back to Manila tomorrow,” Lucy said.

“Okay, I’d better call Gary or Paul to see if they’re free for dinner tonight; Hendriks too, if he’s about.”

Lucy wanted to visit a local shopping mall to find a suitably ethnic gift for Brenda. While she was getting ready I called Paul.

“Both you and Gary have been very helpful,” I said. “This is probably our last day in Subic so we wondered if you’d join us for dinner; maybe at the Lighthouse. I ate there the night we arrived.”

“Have you solved the case then?”

“No, we haven’t. But we hopefully have enough to get Dale released from custody and that’s what we were hired to do. I’ll explain when I see you.”

Paul said he’d contact Gary and we’d meet at eight. “Okay to bring the sheilas?” he said.

“The…”

“Girlfriends, mate; the other halves.”

“The more the merrier,” I said. “It’ll distract Lucy from counting how many drinks I’ve had.”

“I heard that,” said Lucy, as she came out of the bathroom.

“I don’t know why the CIA wastes all that money on listening devices,” I said, “when they could just hire you.”

“The CIA couldn’t afford me,” she said.

We booked a taxi for two-thirty. On the way to Cary’s Lucy asked if I was going to tell Cary about the leads we’d got on possible suspects.

“I mean if the receipt’s genuine then we’re still no nearer solving the case, are we?” she said. “We may as well give her the benefit of the research we’ve already done.”

“Yes, there’s no harm in it. I think we should also give Cary the benefit of any doubt at this stage and assume that the receipt is a genuine one unless there’s a good reason to suspect otherwise. After all my theory’s just that – a theory − it isn’t foolproof. For all we know Larry’s death might have been a random killing or a robbery gone wrong. I’m not planning on mentioning any of it to Santos, but she may want it investigated. It’s up to her.”

Cary greeted us at the door. She was excited and bubbly. She hugged Lucy again and this time I got one too.

“I’ve got some good news,” Cary said, “some really good news. I’ve got some Lambanog to celebrate. Have you tried it?”

We sat as before. “Sorry,” I said, “some whatanog?”

Cary laughed. “Lambanog. Its Philippine vodka – it’s made from coconuts.”

“I’m game for anything,” I said, “how about you, Lucy?”

“I’m on the wagon.”

“Understandably,” I said.

“I’ll try it Cary, but Lucy will stick to juice.”

Cary brought a bottle to the table and a jug of fresh pineapple juice and some lemons. “We don’t usually drink it by itself because it’s too strong.” She poured a small measure of the alcohol into two of the glasses and then squeezed in some lemon juice before adding the pineapple juice. She poured a glass of pineapple juice for Lucy.

“Are you sure you won’t try it Lucy?”

“She can have a sip of mine,” I said.

“Cheers,” said Cary. I took a sip. Lucy sipped her juice.

“So you found the receipt?” I said. “Can you show it to me?”

Cary produced the receipt. “It was written by Larry,” she said. It stated:

‘I Larry Sands hereby transfer the ownership of my boat ‘Sally Ann’ to Dale Porter in full settlement of the debt of US$10,000 owed to him.’

Larry’s name was printed underneath followed by two illegible signatures. One of them was apparently Larry’s and the other Dale’s. It was dated the tenth of September.

“The signature isn’t much help,” I said. “Have you anything else with Larry’s signature that the police can compare it with?”

“How about the marriage license?” Cary said.

“That would be perfect,” I said. “And have you got anything in Larry’s handwriting? If the receipt was written by Larry it would be helpful to have something to compare it with.”

“I’ve got lots of things with Larry’s handwriting on if they want to compare it. He used to write me lots of letters, love notes and things like that. I’ve kept all of them.” A flush of blood colored her cheeks.

“Where did you find the receipt?” Lucy asked.

“It was in the pocket of a pair of his jeans. I went through everything carefully after I saw you.”

“Well Lucy and I plan to return to Manila tomorrow. If you can let me have the receipt, the marriage license and some handwriting samples I’ll take them with me. I’m waiting for a call from a superintendent at the police headquarters and I’ll arrange a meeting with him. It should be sufficient to get Dale out of jail. He has a lot to be thankful to you for.”

“It’s nothing really,” she said.

“Cary, there’s quite a lot of other things I want to talk to you about this afternoon. While this no doubt puts Dale in the clear there’s still the mystery of how Larry died; and if his death wasn’t an accident there’s the question of who might be responsible for his death. I’ve gathered quite a bit of information in the past few days that I’d like to share with you. I don’t intend to pass it over to the police unless you want me to, but I’d like to hear your views.”

“What kind of information, Mr. Kane?”

“I’m talking about possible suspects. But before I go there I’d like your views on some other things. It may help me to determine whether the death was accidental or not.”

“Okay.”

“According to the receipt Larry transferred his boat to Dale on the tenth of September. You reported him missing on the fifteenth. How long had he been missing when you made the report?”

“About two or three days,” she said.

“But I understand that he’d often be away for several days. For example, when he left to renew his visa; or perhaps when he went to Manila or elsewhere in the Philippines.”

Cary thought about this. “But I’d always know where he was. We’d talk on the phone. He never just vanished.”

“Larry’s body was found in the sea; quite far out in the bay actually. But he’d already transferred his boat to Dale by then, so he wouldn’t have been on his boat, would he?”

“He might have been though. Just because he transferred it to Dale doesn’t mean he couldn’t use it anymore.”

“But Cary, if he’d been out on the boat and accidentally fallen in the water then the boat would have drifted, wouldn’t it?” I said. “But the boat was found in Dale’s mooring.

“Oh,” she said. “Yes, I see.”

“So if Larry fell from a boat it couldn’t have been his own boat, could it?”

“No, I guess not.”

“And if he’d been by himself on somebody else’s boat then that boat would have drifted. The owner of the boat would know about it.”

“Yes,” Cary said uncertainly.

“And if he’d been out on a boat with someone else and fallen in accidentally then that other person would have reported it, wouldn’t they?”

“I guess so.”

“Unless it wasn’t an accident.”

“So you don’t think it was an accident?”

“I don’t know. Was Larry a good swimmer?”

“I think so. He often went swimming in the sea.”

“So an accidental drowning doesn’t seem likely. But if he was killed, then the person responsible must have had a reason, a motive.”

I noticed that Cary had pushed her drink to one side and her demeanor had changed.

“Who do you think might have had a motive to kill him?” I said.

Cary stared at me but remained silent.

“Did you know about the bar in Olongapo that Larry and Dale had invested in?”

“Yes.”

“And you knew that it had to close down and several people lost quite a lot of money?”

“Yes, I know about that.”

“From Larry?”

“Well yes, and Dale. Actually everybody knew about it.”

“Dale told me it was Larry’s fault, because he couldn’t honor his commitment to pay his share.”

“His what?”

“Larry was supposed to put money into the bar, but he couldn’t. Dale said that he paid Larry’s share in the beginning and Larry was supposed to repay him. But Larry couldn’t repay him and that’s why he gave him the boat instead. Did Larry tell you all of this?”

“I only knew the bar closed but I don’t know any details.”

“There were local investors who claimed to have lost money. Dale told me they blamed Larry, but according to our investigation the bar owners didn’t in fact lose their money, although I accept that Dale might have believed they had. Has anyone ever approached you or complained to you about what happened to the bar?”

“No. I don’t know who any of them are.”

“Okay. Now I’ve also been told that Larry had lost a lot of money in a casino in Macau. Did Larry tell you about it?”

“Who told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter who told me; I’m asking whether you knew about it.”

“When did it happen?”

“Around August this year; I assume Larry didn’t mention it to you.”

“No.”

“Gary Blake had to lend him some money to help him pay a gambling debt. You know Gary?”

“Yes, of course.”

“But you didn’t know that Larry gave him his Rolex watch in return for the loan?”

Cary’s hand shot up in front of her mouth.

“He’s wearing it. He showed it to me. I checked the serial number; it’s definitely Larry’s watch.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” she said.

“Alright, well Gary said he’d contact you to explain it to you. I’m sorry to burden you with all this stuff but it’s only right that you should know. It’s likely that the loss of money in the casino resulted in Larry not being able to come up with the money for the bar. The point is that Larry still owed a lot of money in connection with this casino debt and the people that he owed it to aren’t very nice people. I wondered if anyone has ever contacted you about the casino debt.”

“No, I don’t know anything about it.”

“Perhaps Larry didn’t want to worry you, so he kept it to himself.”

“Larry always took care of me. I never talked to him about money; it was his money after all.”

“You understand why I’m telling you all this? The people he owed this money to may be connected to his disappearance and his death.”

“Yes, I understand. Thank you.”

“If anybody ever does contact you about either of these two things – the bar or the casino – I want you to tell the police about it.”

Cary shrugged. “Okay.”

“Or tell your friends. Tell Gary, or Paul Evans. They’re both friends of yours and they’ll be able to give you some advice about what to do. You understand?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“The last thing I need to ask you about is something a bit more personal I’m afraid. I wouldn’t mention it if I didn’t think it was important. I believe there was someone – a local Filipino – who was upset by your marriage to Larry?”

Cary was silent for a few moments. She stared at her feet, looking miserable, dejected. Without looking up she said, “You mean Tony?”

“Can you tell me about Tony?”

“He’s a local politician who wanted to marry me. He tried to arrange it through my parents. He’s typical of the corrupt provincial politicians who think they can get anything they want if they pay for it. Usually they can. They’re all greedy and corrupt.”

“Did you ever hear from him after you were married?”

“Yes. He hated Larry.”

“Because of the wedding?”

“Yes…and because Larry supported Preda. Larry hated the exploitation of children in the sex trade, especially by foreign pedophiles.”

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to explain. I don’t know what Preda is. Do you know, Lucy?” Lucy shook her head.

“It’s a human rights group,” Cary said, “which was founded in Olongapo many years ago for the protection of the dignity and the human rights of the Filipino people, especially sexually-exploited and abused children.”

“Let’s have another drink, Cary, but no alcohol this time. I need to focus. This may be important.”

Cary went into the kitchen to fetch some ice and some more pineapple juice. She brought in some fresh glasses and the pitcher of juice with ice in it. She poured the drinks and sat down opposite us again.

“You’d better tell us all about this, Cary. Take your time,” I said.

Chapter Twenty

Some Good News

“Larry loved the Philippines and its people.” Cary said. “He hated the way that children and teens are lured into the sex industry here because there’s no alternative for most. The sex industry is protected by the corrupt politicians and so the police turn a blind eye. There’s a lot of corruption in the police too. For adults it’s a matter of choice; if they choose to do that it’s up to them, but foreigners in particular are attracted to the Philippines to engage in the sort of behavior which would have them locked up for years in their own countries. Here they can operate with impunity because they know that the local politicians and police will protect them. I’m talking about children as young as five and six years old being used for sex.

“Larry contributed money and time to Preda, trying to spread awareness of the problems in combatting corruption by local officials who profit by the exploitation of children. He loathed Tony anyway. Before we were married Tony threatened him and then tried to bribe him to leave the Philippines. Later Larry found out about Tony’s connection with the underage sex trade and I think that’s what got him interested in Preda in the first place. Tony already hated Larry because of me, and like many local officials he feared the influence of vocal foreigners. Tony never tried to contact us personally, but we would get threatening messages from his cronies from time to time. We had two dogs poisoned. My father’s rice crop was vandalized once. Everybody knew who was behind it, but in the Philippines there’s nothing you can do. Going to the police would be a waste of time because they’re probably in his pocket anyway. When Larry built the house it was like a statement to Tony and others like him that we weren’t going to be intimidated.”

“Do you think Tony might be behind Larry’s disappearance? His death?”

“It doesn’t really matter what I think because it would be impossible to prove. He wouldn’t have done anything personally – he’s too much of a coward. And even if I could prove it, he’d never go to court. Or if he went to court he wouldn’t be convicted. This is the Philippines, not Philadelphia.”

Cary noticed the bleak expressions on our faces.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’re used to it. When you live in the jungle you learn to tread carefully. You know what the local term for a policeman is in the Philippines? Buwaya,” she said, without waiting for a reply. “It means crocodile, because they are so hungry − for cash.” She laughed, bitterly, and we laughed too.

“Of course there are good cops and good politicians too; and it’s not only the Philippines that has these problems. But you see the difficulty?”

“So you had already made the connection before I mentioned it?”

“Of course. Did I tell the police? No. Will I ever tell them? No. Do I want you to try and do something about it? No. If it was just me I wouldn’t be afraid, but my whole family live here. One death is enough, don’t you think?”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Lucy said. “And I’m sorry we haven’t been able to help you.”

“But you have helped me,” she said. “Because you’ve shown me you care about me. And you care about Larry and what happened to him. And you care about Dale.”

Lucy asked for the bathroom and went out to compose herself. When she came back she had tears in her eyes. She went over to Cary and hugged her.

“I think you’re very brave,” she said.

“I haven’t told you the good news yet,” Cary said brightly. “I can’t tell you unless you have another drink.”

I looked at Lucy and she nodded. Cary went out to the kitchen to fetch the coconut vodka. She came back and poured us all a glass. The ice had melted, but the glass was cold in my hand.

“What are we drinking to?” said Lucy.

“To me,” Cary said. “I’m pregnant.”

“My God,” said Lucy. “When did you find out?”

“I missed my period in October, but the doctor said it was probably because of all the stress and worry that I’d had. But I missed again last month and so I had a test this morning and it’s positive. I’m going to be a mom. My dad says it’s God’s way of levelling things out. My parents were very fond of Larry.”

“Cary, are you doing anything tonight?” Lucy said. “If not we’d like you to join us for dinner. We’re going to meet up with Paul, Gary and their girlfriends for a farewell meal. We’ll arrange a taxi to get you home again afterwards. They’re going to love to hear your good news.”

“Okay, thanks I’d like that. I haven’t seen them for a while and I don’t get out much either. So long as I won’t be a … what was it? Strawberry?”

“A gooseberry,” Lucy laughed. “No, Cary, you won’t be that, I assure you.”

Cary gathered the documents that I needed to take to Manila and then went to get ready. It was four thirty and the meal was booked for eight. I’d have time for a couple of sharp ones at the Café before dinner. We were back at the hotel before six. Lucy went online with her tablet to book our flights to Manila from Clark. She got a flight for mid-day, and I intended to go directly from the airport to police headquarters to see Santos. There was still no call from him and no message at the hotel. I telephoned Peter Hendriks to invite him and his partner along to the dinner. He’d just got back from Manila and said he’d love to come. I went next door to the Café, ordered a beer and tried Santos’ extension again. This time I was lucky, and was put through to the man himself.

“Superintendent,” I said, “It’s Kane. I’m calling with reference to Dale Porter. I’m returning to Manila tomorrow. I would very much appreciate it if I could see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Ah, Kane,” he said. “How are things in Subic?”

“Very good, thanks to you. I believe that I’ve gathered sufficient proof that Mr. Porter isn’t connected with the death of Mr. Sands and I would hope to arrange for his release from custody.”

“What kind of proof do you have, Kane?”

“It concerns the boat.”

There was a pause. I could hear voices in the background.

“Just a moment I’m getting the file.” I waited for a couple of minutes. “Ah the boat, yes; what about the boat?”

“Well it turns out that there was a legitimate transfer of the boat by Mr. Sands to Mr. Porter several days before Sands disappeared. I have a receipt written in Mr. Sands’ own handwriting and signed by him. Unless you have any other reason to hold Mr. Porter I shall be asking for his release from custody; subject, of course, to your checking the authenticity of the document.”

“Alright; what time would you like to meet me? I’m afraid there’s been no development relating to the investigation here.”

“Would three o’clock be alright?”

“Three o’clock would be fine. I’ll look forward to seeing you then; will you be bringing your charming assistant with you? I trust that you had the cooperation of the local police up there.”

“I did indeed, many thanks to you, and yes, Lucy will be with me. Can you tell me if Mr. Porter has instructed a lawyer yet?”

“Not as far as I know. According to the log he’s only had one visitor since you left and that was yesterday; a young lady by the name of Angel Rodriguez.”

“Thanks, superintendent. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Now everything was starting to make sense.

Shortly before eight o’clock everyone congregated for the meal outside the Lighthouse where a table had been arranged for the nine of us. The clear sky overhead was like black velvet sprinkled with sequins. I couldn’t remember ever being able to see so many stars. The un-twinkling lights of Venus and Mars were easy to pick out too. The sound of the waves lapping against the quayside floated up to the garden where we were sitting. To encourage discourse amongst relative strangers no-one was allowed to be seated next to or opposite his or her partner. The idea was Lucy’s and involved a logistical effort of trial and error before a satisfactory result was obtained, but the final result was a testament to Lucy’s organizational skills for which she was renowned. It meant that Lucy and I would not be able to talk shop and, I suspected, it would enable Lucy to exaggerate her role in Mark Kane Investigations without challenge from myself.

Both Gary’s and Paul’s girlfriends were Australian, and Peter’s partner was Dutch, so Cary found herself the only Asian present, but she had no problem integrating with the three couples as she knew Gary and Paul well and had met their respective girlfriends before. The news of Cary’s pregnancy was met with the expected degree of surprise and goodwill, but Cary had another surprise in store. She intended to give the house to her sister, she said, and other members of her family, and travel to the United States to give birth there so that her baby would gain U.S. citizenship. Whether she’d be able to obtain residency there on the basis of her marriage to Larry was something she wasn’t sure about but she was going to try her best. She’d miss her family but she wanted her child to have better opportunities than would be afforded to him or her in the Philippines. Unfortunately, I knew nothing about the complicated subject of Immigration law but I wished her the best. Nevertheless, I felt that she’d have an uphill struggle to get U.S. residence on the basis of a marriage to an American citizen who was now deceased; but I didn’t want to spoil the mood of the party so I kept my concerns to myself. Before putting Cary in a taxi and sending her home I said I was sorry that I hadn’t been able to help with the problem of Larry’s identification.

“Aren’t you aware of any family or relatives that Larry may have in the States?” I asked her. “A DNA comparison would put the matter beyond doubt. And that may help with your plan to move there and also your claim for the insurance money.”

“Larry told me that his parents were both dead, but he has a married sister in California. I never met her but I’m going to Manila to the embassy to ask about immigration to the U.S. and I’ll ask if they can give me some help to locate her, although I don’t know what her married name is. Even if I can’t immigrate to the States I will find a way to get there. I’m determined to be there when the baby’s born.”

Gary spoke to Cary about Larry’s watch. He wanted her to have it back.

“Things are going to be difficult for you Cary. Take the watch and sell it, or keep it and give it to the baby when it grows up.”

“What if it’s a girl?”

Gary laughed. “Well you can always have a link or two removed,” he said.

“Thanks Gary. You were a good friend to us both but I can’t take it. It was given to you by Larry in good faith to satisfy a debt of honor. You must keep it. Don’t worry I’m not destitute and I’ll manage – we Filipinos always find a way. And whether my child is a boy or a girl I won’t allow them to gamble!”

As she left, Lucy promised to call as soon as we had positive news about Dale.

“I’m sure he’ll contact you himself, but I’ll let you know anyway,” she said.

Lucy and I started to make the short journey back to the hotel, but she decided that she wanted a last walk along the palm-fringed sandy promenade.

“It’s such a lovely night,” she said. “It seems as if we’ve been here for ages.”

“We have been here for ages,” I said.

“You know what I mean.”

“If we manage to get Dale out of jail tomorrow don’t forget to suggest that he sells the boat so that he can pay something towards my fee,” I said. “He’s your friend after all and he did say that if we got him out he’d see me alright.”

“I’ll play it by ear,” Lucy said. “Probably he’ll make the offer himself.”

“Hmm,” I said.

“Do you think Cary’s decision to try and move to the States has anything to do with Larry’s enemies in Olongapo?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, and I wouldn’t blame her either.”

“Do you think she’ll make it?”

“I don’t know much about the immigration laws, but if it’s a matter of determination on her part I expect she will, don’t you?”

“We never met her sister; you know, the one that Dale was dating.”

“She visited Dale yesterday as a matter of fact. Santos told me when I spoke to him earlier.”

“I guess they’re still together then?”

“That may not have been the reason for the visit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing really; let’s enjoy the walk. What time’s our flight tomorrow?”

“Eleven forty-five. We should leave here about nine to be on the safe side.”

“In life it’s always wise to err on the safe side,” I said.

Chapter Twenty One

The Release

We packed before breakfast and walked to the Café.

“I’ve grown quite fond of this place,” I said.

“It’s a better office than the one we’ve got at home, I agree,” Lucy said.

“It hasn’t got any windows either,” I said.

Lucy looked at me wearily. “It’s on the beach,” she said. “It’s practically in the sea.”

“It doesn’t have a prestigious address.”

“No,” said Lucy, “nor a basement parking garage.”

“But it does have an excellent range of alcoholic beverages; I’d have to concede that.”

“You’ve missed the point,” she said.

“There’s a difference between missing the point and ignoring it,” I said. Lucy kicked me under the table.

Our journey back to Clark was as swift as when we arrived, which turned out not to be such a good thing because although the airport at Clark looked fine from the outside it had little to commend it inside. We had an hour and a half to wait for our flight and the usual array of shops, bars and eateries were strangely absent. There was a kiosk selling rather dubious looking snacks and little else. There were only four departure gates, two up and two downstairs. There were rows of metal chairs to sit on. If you wanted Wi-Fi there was a VIP room upstairs which cost ten dollars apiece. We decided not to bother.

Leaving the airport in Manila the noise and commotion contrasted starkly with our peaceful arrival and departure at the airport in Clark. Our taxi clearly hadn’t undergone any road-worthiness test in the present millennium and as the driver wove his way through the gridlocked traffic the gears grated noisily. Several times I was certain we were about to have a collision but, almost miraculously, we didn’t. There seemed to be only one rule for road traffic users: never give way, even if it meant risking almost certain death or disfigurement. I tried shutting my eyes but that only made it worse.

“It’s like rush hour,” I said to the driver.

“It’s always rush hour in Manila,” he said.

Lucy had booked us into the same hotel without difficulty and we went there first to dump our bags. We arrived at two o’clock, with an hour to kill.

“Can you go online and check prices for tickets to Bangkok?” I said to Lucy. “Also call my airline to see if I can re-route. My return ticket is via Hong Kong. I don’t want to lose the cost of the flight altogether if I can help it.”

“Okay, I’ll put my organizational skills into gear.”

“I want to try and see Westlake this afternoon if I can fit it in. I thought we could get the receipt to Santos first and then I’ll go to the embassy. I’ll try to make an appointment about four, but with it being Friday afternoon I’m not sure they’ll see me at short notice.”

“Okay, shall I come to both meetings?”

“Why not? There’s nothing more you want to do in Manila is there?”

“Nope.”

Westlake agreed to see me so long as I arrived before four thirty. I briefly told him about the receipt for the boat and said I’d let him know later if Dale had been released.

Santos greeted us like old friends. He was probably happy that he’d be able to clear the books of the Sands case. It didn’t seem likely that the investigation was going to turn up any new leads.

“This is the receipt,” I said. “Mrs. Sands say’s it’s written in her husband’s handwriting and she’s provided me with samples of his handwriting from letters and notes he had written to her. I’ve looked at them myself. I’m no expert but they certainly seem to have been written by the same person. For what it’s worth Mrs. Sands is able to personally confirm that the transaction took place, but I doubt you’ll need to interview her since you now have the receipt itself. You’ll notice that the boat was transferred to Mr. Porter just five days before Mrs. Sands reported her husband missing. She told me that she made the report after Mr. Sands had been missing and out of contact with her for two or three days.”

“So why did Mrs. Sands tell the police that the boat was missing when she reported the disappearance of her husband. Did she say?”

“It seems that there may have been a misunderstanding by the police. Mrs. Sands says she knew the boat had been transferred to Mr. Porter but she didn’t realize he had already moved the boat to a new location.”

“I see.” He appeared somewhat unconvinced but said, “Well since the missing boat was the only reason we were holding Mr. Porter I shall arrange to have him released.”

“How soon will you be able to do that? Lucy and I are planning to fly out tomorrow since our work’s finished here. Naturally I’d like to see Mr. Porter before we go if at all possible.”

“I don’t see any reason for delay. I’ll need to have a word with the officer in charge of the investigation, but that should only be a formality. I would expect him to be released later this afternoon or perhaps by early evening.”

“I have an appointment with Mr. Westlake later this afternoon. I’ll bring him up to date, so there’ll be no need for the police to contact him.”

“Well, now Mr. Porter is no longer under suspicion I don’t suppose you have any other suspects for me. You did say you would look into the matter.”

“I’m fairly certain that the victim was killed; that it wasn’t an accidental death − but my investigation hasn’t turned up any new suspects,” I lied, “and I don’t think it’s likely that you’ll have any other suspects in the future either. The death will probably always remain a mystery.”

“Most of them do,” Santos said.

“Perhaps you’d be kind enough to pass a message to Mr. Porter. I don’t know where he’ll be staying when he’s released but I presume he’ll be in Manila for at least tonight. This is the number of the hotel where we’re staying and this is my cell phone number.” I handed him a page from my notebook where I had written the numbers down.

“I’ll certainly do that and I wish you a pleasant flight tomorrow. Are you going back to the States?”

“Via Bangkok,” I said. “We plan to stop over there for a couple of days before heading home.”

“Have a safe journey,” said Santos.

We had time to walk from the police headquarters to the embassy. I figured it was safer than taking a taxi.

“You’ll find Westlake a little curious, I think,” I said to Lucy.

“Why’s that?”

“When he talks, his mouth barely moves and there’s no movement at all in other parts of his face. He has no expression.”

“How strange.”

“And that’s not all. He doesn’t make eye contact when he’s talking.”

“Perhaps he has Asperger’s syndrome,” she said.

“Good point; I hadn’t thought of that. I shall miss these examples of astute observation when you cease to be my assistant.”

Lucy fisted me hard on the right bicep; it was quite painful. We arrived earlier than anticipated but were shown in straight away. Probably Westlake was hoping to get off early for the weekend. I introduced Lucy and we sat down opposite him.

“I’ve been to the police station and given them the receipt for the boat which I referred to over the phone,” I said. “I’m afraid I don’t have a copy – neither of the hotels where we’ve been since being handed the note had copying facilities. Anyway, in brief it was written by Mr. Sands and states that he transferred the ownership of the boat to Porter on the tenth of September – that’s five days before Sands was reported missing – in lieu of repayment of a ten thousand US dollar loan. There’s no doubt that the receipt was written by Sands. His wife provided me with several letters written by her husband and I have submitted those to the police as well. Furthermore, Mrs. Sands confirms the transaction. So the police are going to let him go later today.”

“Good. That’ll relieve me of any further involvement in the case. Do the police have any other suspects?”

“No. I uncovered a few possible suspects, and one rather likely one, but I haven’t passed them on to the police. Mrs. Sands asked me not to. I doubt that Mr. Porter will care one way or another.”

“Did you find the missing watch?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I did, though not by brilliant detective work. It turned out that, rather like the boat, Sands had given it to a friend in lieu of repayment of a loan. So the fishermen are no longer under suspicion.” I smiled at Westlake but didn’t receive one in return.

“So you’ll be going home I guess.”

“You guess correctly; tomorrow in fact – via Bangkok, so that my assistant can do some shopping.”

“Visit temples,” Lucy corrected me. My heart sank. I had pictured myself in a quaint oriental bar exchanging cultural chit chat with the locals whilst Lucy was searching for bargains. That was clearly not going to happen.

“It was good of you to drop by and let me know. I won’t keep you; no doubt you’ve got to pack.”

We walked back to the hotel.

“You’re right,” said Lucy. “He seemed to be looking at something behind you. I was tempted to turn round to see if I could find out what it was. Do you think he ever has a good belly laugh? I can’t imagine it, can you?”

“Not really, no.” I said.

“I’ve found a flight with available seats to Bangkok in the morning,” Lucy said. “It leaves at eleven. There’s one at eight but we’d never make it. Your ticket was open-ended but the airline says if you want to change the routing you’ll have to pay a penalty. I’ll book the flights back to the US once we’ve decided on the date. How long shall we stay in Bangkok?”

“How many temples are there?”

“Hundreds,” she said.

“Two days will be enough. I was looking at your Lonely Planet. We can see the Standing Buddha, the Sitting Buddha, the Lying down Buddha, the Gold Buddha and the Emerald Buddha. After that I reckon we’ll be pretty well Buddha’d out.”

“There are lots of other things to do there too.”

“And no doubt they all cost money,” I said. “Let’s stick to two days, shall we? We can fly home on Tuesday. The International Date Line owes me about eleven hours, so with luck we’ll get back the same day.”

“There’s really no hurry. I got a message from Brenda. There’s no work.”

“That’s probably because word’s got around that I’ve emigrated. Two days. You can stay longer if you want, so long as Brenda can cover for you; but I’ll have to deduct the extra days from your somewhat meager salary.”

“Two days is probably enough,” she said solemnly. After a while she added, “Of course if we get a payment from Dale then I’ll be receiving my cut as your assistant, won’t I?”

“If,” I said; “and after deduction of all relevant expenses.”

“Hmm. And when we get back we can work out a new salary for me based on my new position. Brenda can’t stay but she says she knows someone who can take over the secretarial duties and then I can concentrate on assisting you full time. I’ll be able to work from home so I can be at your beck and call.”

“Lucy, this was a temporary arrangement based on the rather unusual circumstances that pertained to this particular assignment.”

“But we work well together as a team, you can’t deny that?”

“Temporary,” I said; “until we get to the airport tomorrow.”

“Well at least say you’ll think about it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You’re just saying that.”

We went back to the hotel to book the flights and pack. Shortly after six o’clock Dale telephoned.

“Thanks so much, Mr. Kane, I’d like to thank you both personally. I’ll be staying at a condo in Tivoli Gardens in Mandaluyong. It’s about five or ten minutes’ drive from Makati. It’s a friend’s place and they’re away; a three-bedroom apartment. It’s a little on the small side but there are places to eat nearby. I’m sorry, I don’t know the best route but the taxi driver should know where it is. I’d come to your hotel but frankly the place where I’ve spent the past week wasn’t particularly sanitary and I need to go and shower and change. Is that okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine. There’s nothing much for us to do here. What time would be convenient?”

“Say eight o’clock. That should give me enough time. Oh, the apartment number is fourteen D, block three. You can store my cell phone number and call me if you get lost.”

“Alright, if we’re a bit late it’ll be the traffic. We’ll see you later.”

“Lucy, can you look at the computer and find an apartment block called Tivoli Gardens in an area called Mandaluyong? It’s somewhere near Makati. We’re to meet Dale there at eight o’clock. He mentioned dinner, so we won’t eat anything now.”

Lucy busied herself on the computer. It took her quite some time to find it and make a note of the street name.

“It’s miles away,” she said. “Not as far as going to the airport, but in a different direction. We’d better leave in plenty of time.”

“Okay, well let’s get ready. We’ll do the packing when we get back; you first, because you take longer. I’ll nip downstairs and ask them to book us a taxi at seven. An hour should be long enough, even in Manila.”

Miraculously Lucy was ready in record time. She was probably hoping we were going to be able to squeeze some money out of Dale, or maybe she was just hungry; we hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. The taxi arrived on time as well, and it was in better shape than the one that had brought us from the airport. I asked the girl at the reception if she could explain to the taxi driver where we wanted to go, to avoid any misunderstanding.

The taxi was quite a new one which probably explained the extra charge the hotel had levied. The driver’s English was pretty good and I asked him if he’d be available to take us to the airport the next day. We agreed a price rather than relying on the meter; it seemed reasonable enough. There seemed to be an uncharacteristic lull in the traffic, or maybe it was the expertise of the driver who knew some short-cuts, but it was only a minute or two after seven thirty when we pulled up outside Tivoli Gardens. We found the block without difficulty and took the elevator to the fourteenth floor. As we got out of the elevator there were arrows pointing to the apartments. Flat D was to the left, and as we turned the corner we could see a door opened onto the corridor and a man and two women in the doorway. It was quite dimly lit, but there was enough light to see that the man was Dale Porter. I recognized one of the women too; it was Cary, and Dale was embracing her. The trio was oblivious of our approach and I watched as Dale kissed Cary. It wasn’t a peck on the cheek either.

As we got closer I could see that tongues were involved.

Chapter Twenty Two

The Early Birds

“We’re a little earlier than expected,” I said. The three of them turned sharply to look at us. “The traffic was unusually light.”

Cary’s hand shot to her mouth, a reaction I’d got used to seeing when she was surprised. Dale said nothing. I looked sideways at Lucy; she was speechless. Cary took her hand away from her mouth and I could see she was biting her bottom lip.

“Perhaps you’d better introduce us to Angel,” I said, “and then I think we should all go inside for a chat.”

“Sure,” Dale said with resignation. “Please come in. You’re right; I wasn’t expecting you just yet.”

We all went inside and found ourselves in a small but comfortable living room with an open kitchen off to one side. There was a sofa against the wall next to the front door with a coffee table in front of it and a flat screen TV on the opposite wall. There was a dining table with four chairs between the sitting area and the kitchen. Cary asked Lucy and me to sit on the sofa. She, Dale and Angel sat on three of the dining chairs facing towards us.

“It’s not what you think,” said Dale.

“And what do I think?”

“That we killed Larry.”

“Of course I don’t think either of you did that,” I said. “In fact I know you didn’t.”

Nobody said anything. I looked at Cary.

“Because Larry’s not dead, is he Cary?” I said.

Cary looked at me, almost pleadingly. Tears glistened in her eyes.

I looked at Dale. “You’re not dead, are you Larry?” I said.

Dale lifted both forearms in the air, palms facing upwards.

“That’s what comes of hiring a detective, I guess,” he said.

“Would somebody like to tell me what’s going on?” Lucy said. They were the first words she’d uttered since we stepped out of the elevator.

“Which of you would care to bring Lucy up to speed?” I said.

The three of them sat in silence for a minute or two, looking from one to another. Finally, Cary spoke.

“It’s true,” she said. “This is my husband, Larry. I’m afraid Dale is the one who died in Olongapo. I’m so ashamed to have lied to you…to everybody. It’s such a complicated story.”

Larry got up, walked behind Cary’s chair and put his arms around her neck. “Let me tell them Cary. It was all my idea.”

Angel sat silently, her head down and her hands in her lap. There was a clear family resemblance between her and Cary, but she lacked Cary’s inner radiance.

“It’s hard to know where to start,” Larry said. “How can I expect you to believe anything I say now anyway?”

“It might help to tell you that I knew you were Larry before I came here tonight. I knew before I went to the police station to get you released. Perhaps ‘knew’ is too strong a word, but I was ninety-nine percent sure of it.”

“So why didn’t you tell the police?”

“Because I think I know most of the story already. I’ve been in this game a long time. Once I have most of the pieces of the jigsaw I can usually put it together.”

“How did you know?” said Cary.

“I already had a suspicion when we met yesterday, Cary. When you produced the receipt the suspicion was strengthened considerably. The receipt had never been in the pocket of Larry’s jeans; I could tell that just by looking at it. And then it was in Larry’s handwriting and it ought to have been in Dale’s. He told me at our meeting in Manila that he’d given Larry the receipt, not the other way around. I knew it was a forgery – Lucy suspected it first, didn’t you?” I said, turning to my assistant. Lucy’s eyes were wide, trying to take it all in. She nodded vigorously.

“I knew the first time we met, Cary, that you knew nothing about the transfer of the boat. How could you? It never happened. You merely repeated what Larry told you to say after he was arrested. I thought at first that you were doing it to help Dale, but you were doing it to maintain the deception. When I saw the receipt and you told me it was written by Larry, and then produced the marriage certificate and Larry’s letters to prove it was his signature and handwriting I knew that Larry had to be alive. How else could you produce a forged document with his handwriting on it? Then when I spoke to superintendent Santos last night he mentioned Angel’s visit and I realized how Larry had got the forged receipt to you. Angel collected it from Larry the day before when she went to see him.

“And there were other things too. I noticed that there were no pictures in the house of you and Larry alone together, and no pictures of the wedding. It didn’t strike me during our first visit, but it did yesterday. Those pictures would have given the game away immediately, but their absence was telling. All the pictures of Larry had Dale in them too, so that you could simply reverse the identities if asked about the photograph − like you did with the photograph of the three of you on the boat, Cary. After I became suspicious I noticed that Larry and Dale were similar in height and build; similar enough to carry out the deception when all that remained of Dale was a skeleton. You’re a gambling man Larry, I understand. I bet you a dollar to a dime that if I look at your passport it will bear an issue date in late September or early October.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Larry. “When I left the Philippines after Dale’s death I went to Thailand and bought a forged passport with Dale’s name and details, but with my own photograph; I paid top dollar for it too. It wouldn’t be good enough to enter the States, but it was more than adequate for the Philippine immigration.”

“What about when you used Dale’s passport to exit the Philippines on that occasion?”

“I took a chance on it. I knew that the immigration staff would only concentrate on looking at the entry stamps, to make sure I hadn’t overstayed. I figured the difference between two white guys of about the same age and general appearance wouldn’t be noticed on the way out, especially by a person of a different ethnic background and particularly as Dale’s passport photograph was nearly ten years old. But I couldn’t take a chance again, so I bought the fake one. It’s a pretty sophisticated forgery. I didn’t expect a problem, and I didn’t have one. The Philippine immigration never suspected it wasn’t a genuine passport.”

“Okay; why don’t we start with Dale’s death, which I assume happened in mid-September.”

Larry asked Angel to make some coffee. She was clearly relieved to be given something to do.

“I can’t expect you to trust me after everything that’s happened,” he said. “It was unforgivable to take advantage of your kindness and Lucy’s by lying to you, but I was too far in by that time and so was Cary. She’d already identified the body as me. As a result, I was in jail suspected of having killed myself. I just hoped that if Cary produced the receipt or something the police would let me go. I’m sorry for that. But what I’m going to tell you now is God’s honest truth. No more lies, I promise.”

“Okay, fire away,” I said.

“Dale was staying with Cary and me. He didn’t have a place of his own so he often stayed with us when he was in Subic. He wasn’t there all the time; he’d come and go. But at that time we’d been having difficulties with the bar we’d both invested in and he was there. He’d lent me money but I couldn’t repay it. I lost a stack of cash in Macau – you know all about that, I know. Anyway Dale’s death had nothing to do with any of that. On the night he died Cary and I were out and we left Dale at home. Dale had called Angel and asked her to come and spend the evening with him. Sometime before Angel arrived some guys went to the house. It’s obvious they were sent by that asshole Tony that Cary knew before we were married. He always hated me because I’d got Cary, but also because I supported an organization that tries to stop child abuse. The group is called Preda and it’s supported by the Philippine Government. Well that’s the theory anyway; in practice not much progress has really been made during the past forty years or so. A lot of local officials, politicians and the police are involved in the child abuse racket because it’s so lucrative. I had the idea of naming names. That wasn’t popular, but my position was ‘look – if we name the names they’re going to have to take it seriously’. It seemed to me the only way to get the government to take action instead of just paying lip service to the principle.

“I guess Tony knew that he’d be one of the names. Anyway, when Angel came to the house Dale was there with two or three guys that Angel had never seen before; local Filipinos. Dale told her to go home. She wanted to go in and talk to him but he got angry and told her to go. Obviously he was just trying to protect her. She knew something was wrong but she was frightened. She took a jeepney home and then called Cary and asked her what was going on. Cary and I went straight back to the house but we were too late. We guessed that the guys sent by Tony had assumed that Dale was me because he was in my house. Dale was dead on the living room floor. He had a towel pushed into his mouth and his wrists were tied. I guessed he’d suffocated. There was vomit in his mouth when we removed the towel. I’m sure they didn’t mean to kill him, because there are easier ways than that. We think they bound his hands and used the towel to gag him so that they could get away before he could call anyone. The phone was disconnected at the wall. And then we found that they’d torn up all the leaflets that we were going to distribute locally and dumped them on the kitchen floor.”

“Are you sure he was dead?”

“Quite sure; the blood had started to collect on the lower part of his body. We think he’d been dead for more than an hour.”

“So why not call the police?”

“We were frightened. We were fairly sure that they didn’t kill Dale deliberately and probably had no idea that he was dead. If we reported it to the police we were frightened of what might happen to Cary and her family. I mean if Tony found out that someone had been killed I didn’t think he’d be averse to getting rid of any possible witnesses. His men had seen Angel. We didn’t know if they knew who she was but Dale might have used her name and they might have put two and two together. So if we reported the death and implicated Tony then Cary, and I and probably Angel would be at risk; after all Angel may have been able to identify them. I could go away but Cary couldn’t and neither could Angel. And the thing is, in the Philippines you don’t know who you can trust. Maybe the police would go straight to Tony for a pay-off and then they’d devise a way to keep Cary, Angel and maybe others in her family quiet for good. No witnesses, no scandal. On the other hand, if we reported the death and didn’t mention that Tony was a suspect then maybe the police would think we’d killed him and we’d be arrested.

“We talked about it all night, about what to do. It was my idea to simply get rid of the body and disappear. That way Tony would think I’d been scared off by his men and he’d leave Cary alone. I’d already talked to Cary about moving somewhere else because of the money I owed in Macau. I didn’t tell her about the loan sharks because I didn’t want to frighten her, but I told her that I was in debt over my head. I was constantly worried that they’d send someone to look for me and maybe hurt Cary. So I suggested that Cary make a formal report to the police that I’d gone missing and that the boat had gone too. At first I was going to take the boat out into the bay and then swim ashore, leaving the boat empty so that people would think I’d drowned. But the problem was that it was the only thing I still had that was worth something. Apart from the house I was broke, because of the bar and the Macau disaster. I couldn’t leave Cary so I had the idea of using Dale’s identity. That way I could stay in the Philippines, travel in and out freely and start afresh. Eventually Cary could sell the house and we’d move somewhere far away where nobody knew us.”

Larry took a sip of his coffee and sat for a while looking at Cary.

“Okay, go on,” I said.

“I know it seems an awful thing to have done, but the fact is that Dale was dead; nothing was going to change that. We knew he had no family anywhere so nobody would report him missing. But of course we had to think of a way of disposing of the body. The obvious way was to take him out in the boat and put him in the ocean. We decided to take him very far out, beyond the currents that would bring him back to the shoreline. And then at the last moment I had the idea of putting my driving license in his shoe so that if he ever washed ashore or was found they’d think it was me. And then I moved the boat down the coast and painted out the name. I used Dale’s name to lease a mooring. I figured I’d sell it when I had the chance. It never occurred to me that anyone down there would identify the boat as mine. And that’s really all there was. I’m not proud of what I did. I panicked really, and by the time we’d dumped the body there was really no going back.”

I turned to Lucy. “So what do you make of all this?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to know what I might do if I found myself in that situation.”

“The problem is Larry that we only have your word for the circumstances of Dale’s death,” I said. “And we know that you already had a reason for faking your death and finding a new identity. You had bad debts, Macau gangsters were after you and possibly disgruntled bar owners too. And then there was the lure of the insurance money. It’s hard to take all this at face value, no matter whether I want to believe what you say or not.”

“I appreciate that. There’s no reason for you to believe anything I say. You’re entitled to be skeptical.”

I turned to Cary. “Do you stand by everything Larry says, Cary?”

“It’s the truth. But then you probably think I’d say anything to protect Larry.”

“Angel. You haven’t said anything yet. Would you like to tell me want happened when you went to the house that night; the night Dale was killed?”

Angel came back from the kitchen and slumped down on one of the dining chairs. Her eyes had a faraway look as if she was transporting herself back in time. When she spoke, she spoke slowly and quietly. It was almost as if she was talking to herself. Her English was as perfect as Cary’s.

“I’d never seen Dale like that before. He was gentle. He never got angry − so I was hurt when he spoke to me like that. But almost immediately I realized something was wrong. I’ve gone over and over it again and again. If I’d called Cary before I got home maybe Dale would still be alive. I cared for Dale. I know he didn’t love me, but he was kind to me. I wouldn’t say anything to protect someone who hurt him and I wouldn’t stand up for Larry if he wasn’t telling the truth, even if he is my sister’s husband.” She paused and thought for a while. “I can only tell you what I saw that night. I’ve never lied to you or to anybody else about anything important in my life. What I saw was Dale and three Filipino men. They were talking with loud voices. They sounded angry or maybe they were arguing when I approached the house. Everything’s a bit blurred in my memory now, except one thing that’s as clear as day. It was the look of desperation on Dale’s face when he sent me away. I didn’t understand what it meant then, but I know now. He was trying to protect me without a thought for himself or his own safety. He could have told me to call the police or something but I know that all that was on his mind was to keep me safe, and that’s a memory I’ll carry with me to my grave.” She paused again, stood up and came around the table to stand in front of me and Lucy. “I would never disgrace his memory by lying to you about our final meeting.” She started to cry and walked over to the dining table and sat down again. She put her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably. Lucy started to cry too.

I waited until everything had calmed down and then asked if maybe I could have another coffee, and Cary went off to the kitchen to make it.

“In the final analysis it doesn’t really matter what I think about all this; whether I believe your story or not,” I said. “I’m not a policeman. I’m not even a licensed private detective in this country. I’m here because Lucy asked me to come and Lucy’s the best friend I have. She’s a pretty good assistant detective as well if you want my opinion.” I patted Lucy’s leg and she took hold of my hand and squeezed it. “And Lucy asked me to come because Larry was kind to her when she met him in Thailand, even though she knew him by a different name then.”

Cary put down a fresh cup of coffee on the table in front of me.

“When all’s said and done the real point is that I was hired to prove that Dale didn’t kill Larry. Since Larry’s still alive it puts an end to the matter as far as I’m concerned. But I have to say that whether what you’ve all told me today is true or not Larry was playing a very dangerous game by using Dale’s passport and assuming his identity. If the police had discovered his real identity he would have become the prime suspect in Dale’s disappearance – and rightly so. You might also have been suspected of trying to defraud the insurance company.”

“Neither of us thought about the insurance until after I’d identified the body as Larry’s,” Cary said. “We didn’t expect that the body would ever be found. Then after the insurance agent came to see me I got frightened because he talked about making a claim; but I didn’t want to do that. I know I lied about identifying Larry and about the boat but I only did it to protect us all. I’m not a criminal.”

“What you say may be true, Cary. But the danger is that if the police get involved again they may not believe you. As long as Larry is masquerading as Dale he’s at considerable risk of being arrested again. It would only take someone to recognize him and make a report.”

“I know you said I’d assumed Dale’s identity, and it’s true as far as using his passport is involved,” Larry said. “But I haven’t tried to pass myself off as Dale for any other reason. I mean I haven’t tried to access his bank account or anything.”

“That’s not really the point, Larry. For your own sake and for Cary’s too – and for the unborn baby – the sooner you resume your true identity the better it will be. You obviously can’t go to the embassy here since you’ve already claimed to be Dale and they’d know you entered the Philippines under a false name. If I were you I’d leave the Philippines as Dale, go to another country and then report the loss of your own passport as Larry and apply for a replacement in your own name; that way you can resume your real identity. You’d be wise to choose a country without immigration checks on entry, otherwise, when you leave, the immigration will query why there’s no record of you entering the country as Sands on their computer system. The U.S. doesn’t have exit controls, neither does the U.K., but I believe that most Asian countries do. You’ll have to do your homework. Fortunately for you the police here are of the view that the body found in the sea has not been conclusively proved to be yours and it’s unlikely that there’ll be any further investigation of the matter. I understand that no insurance claim has been made under the life policy so that won’t give rise to a complication either. I’m afraid you’ll have to kiss goodbye to your boat. I expect the police will keep it.”

“So you’re not going to report me to the police or immigration; or to the embassy?”

“Why should I? It’s none of my business. There’s no obligation on any member of the public to report an immigration offense or any other kind of offence to the authorities. If what you’ve all told us is true, then nobody’s committed any serious crime. Larry’s committed an immigration offence by using a false travel document. Cary’s made a false identification of the body, but that’s not a criminal offense as far as I’m aware. Probably the most serious offence was disposing of Dale’s body without a proper burial – if that’s an offense in the Philippines.”

“I know we were wrong to put Dale in the water without a proper burial,” Cary said, “but I did say a lot of prayers for him. I still do, and ask him to forgive me.”

“If what you’ve told us is true then perhaps he already has,” I said.

“And if you have a son Cary maybe you can call him Dale, as a kind of memorial,” Lucy said, with an attempt to lighten the mood.

“But you do believe us, don’t you Kane?” Larry said. “None of us would have hurt Dale in any way. He and I were like brothers.”

“As I said earlier it doesn’t really matter what I think. Let’s just say that I have no evidence to the contrary. The highest I can put it is giving you the benefit of the doubt. That’ll have to be good enough, I’m afraid.” I looked at my watch. “I know you said something about dinner Larry but it’s late, and Lucy and I haven’t done our packing yet. I’m sure the three of you have important things to discuss too. So if you’ll excuse us we better get going.”

“I’ll come down and help you get a taxi,” Cary said.

“No, you stay here Cary, we’ll be fine. We’re seasoned travelers, me and Lucy.”

“Thanks for everything, Kane,” Larry said. “Thanks Lucy. We’ll always be grateful to you both. I’m sorry to have put you both through all this.”

“There’s just one more thing before we leave,” I said. This man who you blame for Dale’s death – Tony – what’s his full name?”

“Gonzales,” Cary said. “Antonio Gonzales.”

Chapter Twenty Three

Cathedrals and Crocodiles

Lucy and I walked back down the corridor and took the elevator to the lobby.

“Can we go somewhere for a drink?” Lucy said. “Or several drinks?”

“Let’s get back to the hotel and find somewhere to eat first,” I said. “Or maybe somewhere we can do both at once.”

“I’m exhausted,” Lucy said as she leant against my shoulder on the drive back to the hotel.

“You’ll soon perk up again when you’ve got some food inside you. We haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Dale was really Larry before we went to see him?”

“I thought it would be more dramatic,” I said. “Mind you, I didn’t expect that Cary and Angel were going to be there too. I’ll tell you one thing, though. Your female intuition was spot on the first night we went to Cary’s for dinner.”

“I wonder what he told her about Suzie. She must have asked him about it.”

“Being a man, and therefore rather devious, I expect he told her it was only platonic.”

“Perhaps it was. It couldn’t have been much anyway; I never heard from Suzie again.”

“Who knows?” I said.

“It’s funny when I think back to the vacation in Samui. It seems ages ago now, but everything was so perfect back then. Nothing’s ever really that perfect is it?”

“Some things are,” I said.

“Like what?”

“Like us,” I said. Lucy gave me a hug.

In the end we didn’t go straight back to the hotel. Even at nine o’clock the traffic was relentless and it was almost ten when we reached Manila Bay, so we asked the taxi driver to recommend a steak house in Ermita and he took us to La Dolce Vita in Mabini Street, just a couple of blocks from Roxas Boulevard and within walking distance of the hotel. We ordered Porterhouse steaks and a bottle of Australian wine. We asked the waiter to bring the wine first. While we were waiting for the food Lucy said, “You sometimes give rather unethical advice, don’t you?”

“I’m not paid to be ethical; I’m paid to help people. I’m not a priest.”

“You weren’t paid to help these people.”

“No, so I’m afraid you won’t be getting your cut.”

“Do you think what they told us was true? They could have all got together and concocted the story.”

“Well what do you think?”

“I really don’t know. Do you remember what Gary said? About Cary saying she’d kill Dale if he ever hurt her sister?”

“I hardly think she meant it literally, do you? We all use expressions like that from time to time.”

“When I was little I used to threaten to kill my brother quite often,” Lucy said, smiling at the memory. “Good job I didn’t because he saves other people’s lives now.”

Lucy’s brother was a surgeon in New York.

“I can’t think of a likely motive for any of them to kill Dale,” I said. “If we accept that Larry owed ten thousand dollars to Dale it seems unlikely that he’d be killed for that – to get out of repaying him; especially since his death caused so many logistical problems – changing identity, hiding the boat, disposing of the body, using a false passport. Sounds like more trouble than it would be worth.”

“I guess so. And Cary really does seem like a genuinely nice person. Bit of a looker too, isn’t she?”

“I can’t really say I noticed,” I lied. “But her friends, or Larry’s friends, certainly all seem to think highly of her. And don’t forget what Gary told us. She could have married Tony and been rich.”

“He’s an old man; he probably wouldn’t have been much of a lover.”

Lucy pushed the side of her cheek out with her tongue. I leaned over the table and pressed the tip of her nose flat with my finger. I refused to be side-tracked.

“You recognized the name of course – Antonio Gonzales?”

“The man who bought a share of the Firehouse after Dale and Larry were swindled out of their share,” Lucy said.

“Yes, I don’t really know why I pressed Rosario for the name of the new partner. It must have been some kind of sixth sense,” I said. “Probably the local bar owners considered him a useful addition to the business, considering his connections. Maybe Gonzales considered it the ultimate triumph – first to scare Larry away and then to take over his share of the bar.”

“But Larry was in dire financial straits – even if it happened like they said, do you think they planned to claim the insurance money after the body was found?”

“As far as Cary’s concerned she never actually tried to collect the insurance money – at least she says she didn’t and we’ve no evidence to the contrary. I suppose it was early days − it’s not long since the body was found after all − but she deserves the benefit of the doubt. She lied about the identification of the body and about the boat, but she had to do that to maintain the deception; she was a pretty hopeless liar too. But last night when Gary offered to return the watch to her she declined it. I was somewhat impressed with that, bearing in mind that she hasn’t got much and we know that Larry’s broke. She could easily have taken it if she was greedy or dishonest. Maybe that small matter speaks volumes for her integrity. And as far as Angel is concerned her demeanor and body language were consistent with truthfulness. But the main thing is that if any of them were involved in the disappearance or killing of Dale there wouldn’t have been any need for Larry to assume Dale’s identity. They could have just dumped him and got on with their lives. And they didn’t expect that we’d find out about the deception, so they would hardly have rehearsed such a story. So all in all I guess we’ve probably been told the truth.”

“Did you mean it when you said I was a pretty good detective?” Lucy said.

“I think I used the word assistant,” I said. Lucy poked her tongue out at me. “Of course I did. After all you picked up on Cary’s jealousy when I mentioned the vacation romance. If we’d given that a bit more thought at the time we might’ve tumbled the identity switch earlier.”

“Yes, it was rather perceptive of me, wasn’t it?” Lucy said smugly.

“And I was right about the driving license,” I said. “It was put there to give a clue to the deceased’s identity. A false identity as it turned out.”

“Yes, but that was more obvious.”

“You said it was a bit far-fetched as I recall.”

“Well you said that the dead person put it there before he was killed, as a clue.”

“You’re splitting hairs,” I said.

“I suppose I should’ve noticed the missing photographs,” Lucy said. “It was a bit strange not to have any wedding photos or pictures of just the two of them together.”

“Well, you can treat it as a learning experience.”

“For the next time you require my services as your sidekick you mean? You remember the key? In the drugs case, in October? That was a bit of a master stroke too, wasn’t it?”

“It was indeed; credit where credit’s due.”

“I think I may have a natural flair for this kind of work,” she said.

The steaks were succulent and juicy and came with great big Idaho potatoes baked in their skins, with a dollop of sour cream with chives on top.

“Fit for a king,” I said.

“Or a queen,” said Lucy. She thought for a moment. “They don’t really have things like palaces or temples here, do they? Or Buddhas.”

“I think you’ll find that Buddhas tend to crop up more often in Buddhist countries. This is a Christian country,” I said, “at least this bit of it is. So they have cathedrals, churches and priests.”

“And buwayas,” Lucy said. She laughed and bit hungrily into her steak.

Chapter Twenty Four

The Fat Lady

It was early evening, almost two weeks after our return from Thailand and the resumption of reality. I was sitting in my leather recliner nursing my second slug of Jack Daniels of the afternoon when a familiar rat-a-tat-tat on my front door signaled the arrival of Lucy. I assumed she’d come to reprimand me for some perceived or suspected misdemeanor or simply to check up on me. We hadn’t seen each other for several days. Lucy had lately thrown herself into her new passion of cooking Asian food, which fortunately was keeping her fairly busy and out of harm’s way when she wasn’t slaving over a hot secretarial desk downtown.

I yelled for her to come in but she didn’t, so I strode over and opened the front door. She was standing, collar turned up on her green gabardine coat, holding a white envelope in her left hand which was next to her ear, and she was twiddling it between thumb and forefinger. In her right hand she held a small FedEx package. She had a smile on her face like the Cheshire Cat.

“I come bearing gifts,” she said.

“Well that makes a nice change. Are they early Christmas gifts?”

“In a way,” she said mysteriously. She had that ‘I know something you don’t know’ look on her face.

“Then you better come in before you get frostbite,” I said.

She shivered and entered, plonked herself down on the sofa, and said:

“It’s not over until the fat lady sings.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” I said.

“Oi’ll ‘ave a large rum and coconut juice if you please,” she said, in her Long John Silver voice, “and go easy on the coconut.”

“You’re in unusually high spirits for a Monday evening after a hard day’s slog at the office doing practically nothing,” I said, as I made my way to the kitchen, deftly removing and attempting to conceal the evidence of my latest drink from the coffee table.

“And you better buy yourself another one of those while you’re at it,” she said.

I fixed the drinks, placed Lucy’s in her outstretched hand, twisted my recliner to face the sofa and sat down. I placed my own drink on the occasional table at my side and looked at her. She grinned at me but said nothing.

“This could become annoying,” I said; “eventually.”

Lucy looked at me enigmatically. “The delay in revealing the contents of these two items is done for dramatic effect,” she replied.

“I give up,” I said. “What’s in the envelope? An invitation to the White House? Official recognition of my services to the community?”

“It’s a letter from my old pal, Suzie; Thailand Suzie − the scarlet woman.”

“You mean Larry’s friend?”

“The very same.”

“That couldn’t possibly explain your glee,” I said.

“That’s because you don’t know what it contains.”

Lucy put her hand in the envelope, and using her thumb and forefinger she plucked out an oblong piece of paper and tossed it onto the coffee table between us.

“It’s a check for five big ones – five very big ones − drawn on the Wells Fargo Bank in Sacramento. It’s got my name on it.”

“For what?”

“For helping her brother.”

“Who the hell’s her brother?” I said.

“I’ll give you one guess.” Her grin widened.

“Jesus…you mean?”

“Yes.”

“I assume it came with a covering letter,” I said, reaching out my hand.

“Whoa. I’ll read it to you. For better dramatic effect,” she said.

“Lights, curtains, orchestra… ‘My Dearest Lucy’ − it begins – ‘I have been struggling to write this letter for several days, but I didn’t know what to say. Anyway here goes. You have always been a true friend to me and I am ashamed to have deceived you. I hope you will understand my reasons and forgive me. I am Larry’s little sister and we have always been close. You now know the difficult situation he got himself into in the Philippines and that he was posing as Dale when we met you. As you now know, when Dale was killed Larry panicked and assumed Dale’s identity. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t see Cary because he was frightened of being recognized. He didn’t tell me over the telephone what the situation was other than he was scared for his life and Cary’s. He didn’t know who else to turn to. He was in Thailand. He didn’t want to be alone and he was afraid to return to the Philippines for the time being. My husband, Rick paid for me to fly out to see Larry.

‘It wasn’t until I got to Thailand that he unfolded the full story to me. Before we met you I’d advised him to go back to the Philippines, resume his true identity and then fly back to the States; later he could make arrangements for Cary to join him there; and that was what he was intending to do. But as you know things were overtaken by events which we hadn’t anticipated. We never told you of our true relationship, and we also failed to disabuse you of your impression that we were vacation lovers because we found it easier to go along with your mistaken belief. But our affection for you was one hundred percent genuine, of that you must never be in doubt.

‘I will be forever grateful to you and your wonderful partner for helping Larry, even though I know we both caused you a great deal of trouble. Larry has told me everything you did for him. He was embarrassed that he wasn’t in a position to pay for your services. Rick and I aren’t wealthy, but we’ve taken out a loan for five thousand dollars which I hope will be enough to at least reimburse you for the expense you both must have incurred as a result of this matter. Larry will repay us when he is able to. Please accept this check as a true token of appreciation and for the lasting affection we will always have for you.

‘Larry has taken your advice and already left the Philippines. Cary has given the house to her sister and moved temporarily to Manila. They’ll both come back to the States in due course, hopefully in time for the baby’s birth. The baby will be named Mark if it’s a boy or Lucy if it’s a girl, and you will both be named as honorary Godparents. I hope this is not too presumptuous and that you will accept this gesture in the spirit in which it’s intended. God bless both of you, your friend always, Suzie Hall.’

“There’s no address on the letter. So we’re going to be parents. How exciting is that?”

“Godparents Lucy.”

“Which means we won’t have to change diapers.”

“Looks like it’s out of our hands; so the fat lady has sung,” I said.

“There’s another verse,” Lucy said, placing the Fed-ex package on the table. “This one’s addressed to you. Coincidentally they both arrived at the office this morning. I’ve taken off the Customs declaration to increase the suspense.” She leaned forward in anticipation to watch me open it.

Inside the package was Larry’s gold Rolex, a photograph and a brief handwritten note which read:

‘Lest you forget. Don’t pawn it. Good on you, your mate Gary. P.S. You’ve got a goodun’ there mate, you ought to make an honest woman of her.’

The photograph was of our farewell supper at the Lighthouse, the night before we returned to Manila. It bore the legend: ‘We Love Lucy.’

I read the note to Lucy, minus the postscript, and tucked it in my pocket. I handed her the photograph and tried on the watch.

It was a perfect fit.

***

Follow the adventures of Kane & Lucy in

Book Four: Till Death. The story continues…See the next page

Don and Lisa Maddox’ idyllic marriage is threatened when Lisa is targeted by blackmailers, and Boston private detective Mark Kane is hired to investigate − but he soon realizes that he is investigating more than just blackmail, and finds himself searching for a serial killer as well; and with trouble at the office too it’s one headache after another. But who is responsible for the bizarre deaths? And what secret is Lisa so desperate to hide from her husband? Kane and his newly appointed assistant investigator Lucy head west to the Twin Cities to look for answers, but they are plagued by setbacks and are met with a wall of silence. As Lucy observes, “It’s as if some malign force keeps putting obstacles in our way.” But Kane and Lucy must find a way forward if they are to thwart the blackmailers and find the killer. (See it on Amazon)

To learn about all the books in the Mark Kane Mysteries Series please read on…

A Word from the Author

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The Mark Kane Mysteries Series

A short synopsis of each book in the series appears on the next few pages.

Feedback from my readers is important to me, so if you have any suggestions, comments or observations about any of the books in this series please contact me.

John Hemmings

July 2015

Book One: Forget Me Not

A devoted husband has planted a carpet of Forget-Me-Nots in memory of his wife who has recently died from complications following the rapid progression of Alzheimer's disease…Or has she?

Greg Philips’ wife, Gloria, has recently died after suffering from chronic dementia, leaving her long-lost illegitimate daughter, Susan, a large slice of her estate. But is Susan who she claims to be? And was Gloria mentally competent when she made her will or was she manipulated in some way? Boston Investigator Mark Kane is hired to discover the truth, but as the investigation proceeds he soon finds himself embroiled in a murder mystery; and as the suspects mount up he needs all his wits about him to find out the truth and prevent Greg’s adult sons from financial ruin or worse. As usual, Kane’s longtime companion Lucy is there to lend him a helping hand, but will she be able to help him solve the mystery? (See it on Amazon)

Book Two: Ice

Kane is on the trail of a gang of International drug smugglers who'll think nothing of murdering anyone who gets in their way.

Jenny Garcia has returned to Boston from a vacation overseas little knowing that her suitcase contained a valuable haul of illicit drugs hidden inside. When the bag is stolen from her at the airport Boston investigator Mark Kane is given the difficult job of retrieving the suitcase and finding out who is responsible for putting Jenny in such terrible danger. But when the two men who could have provided the answers are found dead, Kane has his work cut out for him. As Lucy stumbles upon a vital piece of evidence the case suddenly takes a new turn. Has Kane been looking in all the wrong places? And when a kidnapping puts the whole investigation on a different footing he needs to call on all his experience and cunning to save the victim from harm and bring the culprits to justice. (See it on Amazon)

Book Three: The Black Widow

Eight thousand miles from Boston the badly decomposed body of an American tourist has been found floating in the sea and Kane is about to get reluctantly involved in the case.

On vacation in Thailand Lucy befriends Dale Porter, a fellow American, but her idyllic break is cut short when Dale is arrested for murder. She enlists Kane’s assistance and they head to the Philippines to look for answers. Kane deputizes Lucy as his temporary assistant investigator and together they set out to solve the mystery of a body found floating in the sea and to try to prove that Dale was not responsible for his death. They travel from Manila to Subic Bay in their quest for the truth and identify several suspects along the way − including the dead man’s widow. But the victim had many enemies too. And why had Dale disguised the victim’s boat and concealed it in a secret location? As they struggle to unravel the victim’s complicated life Kane is finally driven to an unexpected and shocking conclusion.

Book Four: Till Death

A young woman is nursing a dark secret.  A serial killer is on the loose.  What is the connection?  The answer lies in a frozen backwater in small-town Minnesota.

Don and Lisa Maddox’ idyllic marriage is threatened when Lisa is targeted by blackmailers, and Boston private detective Mark Kane is hired to investigate − but he soon realizes that he is investigating more than just blackmail, and finds himself searching for a serial killer as well; and with trouble at the office too it’s one headache after another. But who is responsible for the bizarre deaths? And what secret is Lisa so desperate to hide from her husband? Kane and his newly appointed assistant investigator Lucy head west to the Twin Cities to look for answers, but they are plagued with setbacks and are met with a wall of silence. As Lucy observes, “It’s as if some malign force keeps putting obstacles in our way.” But Kane and Lucy must find a way forward if they are to thwart the blackmailers and find the killer. (See it on Amazon)

Book Five: Missing

Dean Roberts is a sick elderly man with just one precious thing in his life -- his teenage daughter Marisa.  When she mysteriously disappears in Springfield, Missouri on a road trip across America the police draw a blank, so Dean hires Kane and Lucy to find her and bring her home.

When Kane and Lucy set out for Missouri to find a teenager who has gone missing whilst on a road trip across the States, they soon realize that she and her traveling companion have been abducted by a sinister group whose victims are turning up dead – real dead. But what is the motive for her abduction? Nothing has been stolen from her bank account, no demand for a ransom has been made and a telephone call from the missing girl a few days after her abduction only adds to the mystery. In a race against time they enlist the assistance of local law enforcement officers and friends of the pair in a desperate attempt to find the two girls before it’s too late. (See it on Amazon)

Book Six: I Spy

Kane and Lucy find themselves with two cases to investigate: one an apparent murder/suicide and the other a tragic accident – or was it? As they struggle to make sense of the apparently contradictory evidence they discover that neither case is as straightforward as it appears.

When the police discover the body of Cynthia Hughes in the kitchen floor and her husband Bob hanged in the garage it seems like an open-and-shut case – but Bob’s mistress, Angela, doesn’t buy it and she hires Kane and Lucy to find the real killer. Meanwhile Mike Kingsley’s son has died after being struck by a train and the police have ruled it an accidental death. But was it? As Kane and Lucy struggle with the two cases simultaneously they discover that they have something in common – neither case is quite what it seems to be… (See it on Amazon)

Book Seven: A Tangled Web

When Marjorie Griffiths learns that her husband has had a clandestine meeting in an attractive young woman at local motel she hires private investigator Dick Hampton to keep him under surveillance.

When Hampton informs her that her husband is in a room at the motel with the same woman, she hurries over there; and when sees her husband leave and drive away, she decides to confront the woman.

But then she vanishes, without a trace.

When Marjorie’s husband, Chuck, reports her missing, he becomes an immediate suspect in her disappearance, so he hires attorney Oliver Davies to advise him, and Davies recommends Kane & Lucy to investigate Marjorie’s mysterious disappearance. But when traces of Marjorie’s blood are found in the matrimonial home and in her abandoned car, Chuck is arrested; and this is only the beginning of his nightmare, as demons from his past return to threaten and even destroy him.