Chapter 18 - The Dock By The Bay: Reprise
The phone rang and I picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Watcher, this is Mr. Smith,” said the voice on the phone.
“You lied to me, Mr. Smith,” I said. “Mason was not back East, he was in the city morgue.”
“I apologize, Mr. Watcher. But for me, Mason was irrelevant. I did not know where Sam Parrish was. It did not occur to me that he had joined the police force. Additionally, I did not know who Martin's inside partner was.”
“Well, now we both know, don't we?” I said.
“Indeed, but I have no proof. And he does carry a certain amount of weight with my employers,” said Mr. Smith.
“You can contact him?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“He doesn't know you suspect him?”
“No, he does not.”
“You got acceptable witnesses?” I asked.
“I can get them,” he said.
“The docks, where it all started for me. Midnight, you set it up, and I will be there.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Two reasons,” I said. “I want answers, and you will owe me.”
“Excellent, I agree. You get to be the sacrificial lamb. What makes you think you can trust me?”
“I can't, but your employers can. And I'm not the sacrificial type. I'm just gonna be the bait he can't ignore.”
I hung up, sat back, and finished my coffee.
When it came time to leave the office, I put on the overcoat and fedora. I stopped by Betty's desk to pick up her gun, just in case. Mr. Smith had his own agenda to satisfy his employers. My health didn't matter to him as long as he got the outcome he wanted. He wasn't a direct threat to me, but I'm not sure how much help he would be if I needed defending. On the other hand, Betty's thirty-eight would provide me with some extra support if I needed it.
I arrived early. It was another damp night at the wharf. I climbed down onto the dock and moved into the shadows. The light from the pier above provided plenty of unlit cover, maybe too much. I was sure Martin's partner wouldn’t come alone. Physical cover was scarce, the darkness was where the danger would come from.
Two men arrived at the pier above and looked around. Neither was going to descend the ladder to the dock. They both scanned the area carefully, and finally one of them called out.
“Mr. Watcher, I know you are here, I saw you climb down the ladder.”
I stayed in the shadows for the moment and listened. I could only hear the movement of the water breaking onto the pylons. I wondered if the two men above me could hear it.
“Did you really believe Mr. Smith would give me up. I have a far greater reach than you know. You should have quit with Sam Parrish. Lieutenant Sanders was satisfied, why weren't you?”
“I take it personally when someone tries to have me killed, Mr. Jaxom,” I yelled.
“Ah, so my identity is known to you. I was afraid of that. It wasn't anything personal, Jonas--may I call you Jonas? You were a drunk that Joseph was to kill. We would have seen to it that there would have been plenty of evidence to convict him. Your death would have been avenged. How was I to know that he was an incompetent killer?” said Jaxom.
“Why would he try to kill me? What was to be his motive?” I asked.
“He thought you were a witness.”
“He must have had apoplexy when he saw me in the office the next day,” I said.
Only he hadn't. Joseph wasn't that good of an actor. It wasn't him on the pier that night. Jaxom was lying. But why?
Jaxom said, “He called me right after. I thought he was going to lose it. I considered taking him out myself, but Mr. Parrish assured me he had it under control.”
So, someone else had been on the pier that night. Someone else had knocked me into the water. It wasn't Mr. Smith, he was too big. Who was Jaxom playing to?
Jaxom's associate moved away quietly from him. He needed another angle to listen to my voice. He was trying to another angle on my location by my voice. Also, he was distancing himself from Jaxom. He would make the first move, allowing Jaxom time to locate me and kill me. I moved quietly, making sure I was on the move when I asked my next question.
“Since Martin had the address to the bank, why did he need you?” I asked.
Jaxom turned his head slightly. He wasn't sure where my voice had come from. They were ready to make their move. They had separated and the flunky was in the shadows I needed to draw this out and make Jaxom's associate nervous.
“The address was worthless without the access keys to the bank. I had those,” he said. “I had copies made a long time ago. You didn't think Stanton thought it up all on his own, did you? I spent months cultivating him. He was to die in Miami, and the money would be gone.”
“But he kept traveling back and forth and painting. Then he wanted to return the money," I said. "That must have pissed you off.”
I was still moving.
“It was my money, Jonas, not his. Then he disappeared. The money was vanishing, then all of a sudden there was so much more. It was mine, you see.”
It was time! I reached in and took out my Colt cocking it as I pulled it. I recognized the sound of the flare being lit. I followed that and the sight of the igniting flare. Jaxom's associate was too nervous, he had held it too long. I fired dead center at it then I dropped and rolled to return to my feet.
The flare flew into the air, but it was off target. Jaxom swore. He had already pulled his gun--an automatic by the looks of it--and he was aiming at me. But there were two barks from a twenty-two. Not from Jaxom's automatic, and he crumpled.
Mr. Smith walked into the light, bent over Jaxom, and shot him in the head. He holstered his gun and searched Jaxom. I holstered my gun and climbed the ladder. Mr. Smith found what he was looking for and straightened up. He smiled as I approached him.
“I had lost sight of his assistant,” Mr. Smith said, “I am glad you didn't.”
“I thought you needed Jaxom alive,” I said.
“No, just proof of his duplicity. The items I have taken from him will be more than enough to convince my employers of his crime.”
He reached into his side pocket and retrieved an envelope. He handed it to me. I reached out and took it.
“What's this,” I asked.
“For your services. Please do not refuse it. There are no strings. If anything, I am still in your debt.”
Then he laughed.
“Poor Jaxom. He set you up to die. You were supposed to be a worthless derelict. The police would have taken any evidence that Jaxom provided simply to close the case.
“I checked you out, Captain. Even my employer's counterparts in Europe have respect for you. The one man in San Francisco that Jaxom should have avoided was you.”
“Yeah, The Fates are bitches,” I said.
“Indeed, they can be,” agreed Mr. Smith.
Then he smiled.
“Do have your Lieutenant stand down."
I shook my head.
"I told him to go home," I said.
"I have some colleagues joining me shortly. If you will both quickly leave, this will all disappear without a trace. It really isn't of interest to the SFPD.”
I looked around and saw Lieutenant Sanders in the distance standing next to a building, his gun by his side. I offered my hand to Mr. Smith. He looked at it, then me, and then he took it firmly.
“You earned your reputation,” he said. "I think I will leave San Francisco as simply a tourist destination from now on.”
“If you come back, we can shoot some eight ball,” I said.
“Excellent.”
I headed towards Lieutenant Sanders. He holstered his gun and waited for me to get to him.
“Did you really think I would let you come here alone?” he asked.
“You were an awfully long way away,” I said.
“I spotted Mr. Smith,” he said. "I decided I would probably mess things up. I stayed just in case your back-up needed back-up.
“Thanks,” I replied.
“Since Smith was more interested in the other two than you,” he said, “I kept out of it. We all done now?”
“Mostly, there is still the question of who knocked me into the bay,” I said.
“Didn't Jaxom say...”
“He lied,” I said. "I don't think he knew why I was knocked into the bay. I really was a wild card in all of this."
We started walking away from the docks.
“I can't keep calling you Lieutenant,” I said, “what's your first name?”
“David,” he said.
I stopped and looked at him. He stopped and walked back to me. I held out my hand.
“Hi David, My name is Jonas, and I'm going to be a Private Investigator in your fair city,” I said.
He looked at me, then at my hand, and then back at me, just like Mr. Smith had done. Then he took my hand in a firm but non-bone-crushing grip.
“David, I'm hungry, you want to get something to eat?” I asked
We both started walking, again.
“Pancakes,” he suggested.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“You're going to be a pain in my ass, aren't you?” he asked.
“Probably,” I said
He started looking around as we walked.
“Do you hear women laughing in the distance?” he asked.
I just smiled. As I said, The Sisters Fate are Fickle Bitches.
END
