42
STONE AND DINO were about to leave the hotel when a call came in.
“Hello?” Stone said.
“Stone, it’s Chuck Chandler, at the tennis club.”
“Hey, Chuck.”
“I ran across something yesterday that might interest you.”
“What’s that?”
“My old boat, which now has no name.”
“Where did you see it?”
“Out at Fort Jefferson.”
“Where’s Fort Jefferson?”
“It’s at the very end of the Keys.”
“I thought Key West was the very end of the Keys.”
“No, they run out to the west from Key West for about sixty miles—small, uninhabited islands with no fresh water at all. There was a fort built out on the last one during the nineteenth century—that’s Fort Jefferson. It was used as a prison during and after the Civil War, and Dr. Samuel Mudd, who was imprisoned for sheltering John Wilkes Booth and setting his broken leg, was sent there, where he performed heroically during a yellow fever epidemic.”
“What’s out there now?”
“Just the old fort, nicely preserved. There’s no landing for a boat there, but you can swim ashore or take a dinghy in. The funny thing is that my old boat still had her dinghy aboard, and there was no one on her. We swam ashore and had a picnic in the fort, and there was no one else there.”
“Well, if one took one’s boat out there and abandoned it, how would one get back?” Stone asked.
“One would take another boat or a seaplane; those are the only choices. But why would anyone leave a very nice boat out there, where it might be broken into and plundered?”
“Good question,” Stone asked. “And where would one get hold of a seaplane?”
“There are a couple for charter at the airport.”
“Any idea how long the boat has been there?”
“I don’t know, but I saw her three days ago, taking on fuel in Key West Bight.”
“Any sign that the boat had been broken into?”
“Not that I could tell. I blew my horn a couple of times and tried to raise them on the radio, but no response.”
“Thanks for letting me know, Chuck.”
“You and Dino want some tennis?”
“I’m not sure how much longer we’re going to be in town, but if we stay on, I’ll call you.”
“Take care, then.”
Stone hung up. “Did you hear any of that?” he asked Dino.
“Enough to wonder if those two kids are dead on that boat,” Dino replied.
“Let’s find out,” Stone said. He called Tommy Sculley and told him Chuck’s story.
“I’ll call the airport and pick you up in fifteen minutes,” Tommy said.
THE HIRED SEAPLANE was an amphibian—it could land at the airport or on the water—and they were in the air within the hour. They flew west over the string of tiny islands, seeing only an occasional yacht anchored in the lee of one, its occupants picnicking or swimming. Stone, sitting in the copilot’s seat, spotted the outline of the fort in the distance, and as they grew closer, he could see a solitary boat anchored off the fort.
The pilot circled the little motor yacht. “You want me to land?” he asked.
“Yeah, and taxi as close as you can to the boat,” Tommy said. “Do you have a dinghy?”
“No, just a life raft.”
“I’ll have to swim, I guess,” Tommy said, unbuttoning his shirt.
Stone started getting out of his clothes, too.
There wasn’t much wind, and the pilot maneuvered to within a few yards of the boat, which seemed deserted. Tommy and Stone jumped, naked, into the water and swam for the boat. Stone was there first and hauled himself aboard, then gave Tommy a hand.
The two stood, dripping wet, in the cockpit, looking through the locked doors to the cabin below.
“Tell you what,” Tommy said, “I’m worried that those kids are dead aboard, so I’m going to break in.”
“I agree,” Stone said.
Tommy found a boat hook and used it to pry the padlock hasp off the mahogany door. “They can send me a bill, if they’re alive,” Tommy said, sniffing the air inside. “Nobody smells dead.” He started below, and Stone followed him.
Everything seemed to be in perfect order below, though it was hot. Tommy began opening the galley cabinets. “Let’s search the place, as long as we’re here.”
Stone pitched in, and the two of them searched the cabin thoroughly, taking care to leave it as neat as they found it. “Let’s take a look in the cockpit lockers,” Stone said, and they went back on deck.
Stone pointed at the stern locker, which was fastened with a combination padlock. “Odd,” he said. “The cabin door had an ordinary padlock, but this one has a combination.”
“Why is that odd?” Tommy asked.
“Maybe it’s so that someone who knew the combination could come aboard, leave something in the stern locker, then relock it and leave.”
“We’re going to need something more substantial than an aluminum boat hook to break into that,” Tommy said.
“There’s a tool kit below,” Stone said. He went down and came back with a large screwdriver. It took a couple of minutes to break into the locker. Stone opened the locker and stood back. It was packed with plastic bags, taped shut.
They were about to open one when there was a sudden blast from a boat’s horn. They looked up to find a small Coast Guard cutter standing a few yards off the port side.
“Ahoy, there,” a woman’s voice said on a loud hailer. “We’re boarding you.”
Stone looked at Tommy. “We’re not dressed for the occasion,” he called back.
“There are some towels below,” Tommy said, ducking into the cabin and returning with two skimpy bath towels.
The cutter’s crew deployed fenders, and the female captain, who was petite and attractive, stepped aboard, wearing a handgun and a name tag that read “Tabor.” A crewman stood on the boat’s upper deck with an assault rifle at port arms.
“Is this your boat?” Tabor asked them.
“No, Captain Tabor,” Tommy said. “I’m Lieutenant Tommy Sculley, Key West PD.”
“I don’t see a badge,” she said, suppressing a smile.
“Right,” Tommy said. “It’s on our airplane.”
“What’s going on here?” she asked.
“We’re looking for the boat’s occupants,” Tommy said. “We got a report that the boat had been abandoned here, so we flew out for a look.”
She nodded toward the broken lock on the cabin door. “I suppose you have a search warrant?”
“No, we were concerned for the safety of the crew,” Tommy said, “so we had a look around.” He opened the stern locker. “All we found was this.”
Tabor looked into the locker and whistled. “Tell you what, lieutenant: why don’t you swim back to your airplane and bring me some I.D. And if you try to take off, that seaman over there with the M16 will shoot you down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy said, dropping his towel.