part0015

‘I CAN SEE WHAT she means,’ Detective Cortez said, jumping lightly down onto the jetty and studying Evan as if he were a new species of brightly-colored tropical bug. Evan half expected to feel the grip of fingers on his chin, his head turned from side to side, like he had a price tag hanging off his ear.

Cortez believed in the benefits of good preparation. Find out what you’re dealing with, act accordingly. Evan’s slightly sunburned forehead had creased into a frown. Cortez explained.

‘Ricky might be a borderline retard, but he’s still got redial on his phone. I spoke to Detective Guillory. You want to hear what she said about you?’

Cortez smiled, revealing perfect teeth. They set off the perfect tan nicely.

‘Didn’t think so. Lucky for you she can vouch for your whereabouts for the whole of the relevant time period. You spend a lot of time hanging out with police officers? Or just Guillory?’

It was a strange question. And not one that Cortez was interested enough in waiting for the answer to.

‘You want to tell me what happened.’

Evan ran through the whole story, starting with the connection to Crow and his concern for Winter’s welfare. He omitted to mention why at this stage. Nor did he mention what he’d found in the livewell. Or what was stuffed down the fish’s gullet. In a perfect world—one in which he’d be able to keep everyone, including Crow, happy—he would’ve liked to take a copy of the contents of the thumb drive before surrendering it to Cortez. However, he was acutely aware of the damp patch on the front of his pants, soaking through from the dead fish in his pocket. How long that went unnoticed was anybody’s guess. He ended the account with his and Crow’s opinion on the matter.

‘We don’t think it’s suicide.’

Cortez nodded, thanks for the information, I’ll file it appropriately.

Already Evan felt himself fighting a losing battle. He gave Crow’s nebulous reasoning first—he wasn’t the type, he was excited about what he had going on. Then he gave the only slightly less vague facts that he couldn’t swim and didn’t drink hard liquor. He felt as if he was working towards the punchline of a joke that the audience had already seen coming and weren’t going to laugh at anyway.

Cortez listened politely without interruption. At times nodding along, sounds reasonable, before summing up, the points counted off on long, slim fingers.

‘So. For your theory to work, Mr Winter would have needed to keep Mr Crow up to date on everything going on in his life. Not just the work he was so excited about. But also his ability to swim, his interest in diving, the clothes he liked to wear. And . . .’ Cortez paused to let him know that the best was coming next. ‘Most importantly, how much, and what, he drank. In my experience that’s something a lot of people keep a secret. Even from their spouse, let alone an old friend from the glory days. Hey! Remember what we used to get up to back in the day? Now I just sit and drown my sorrows on my boat.’

Evan found himself nodding, couldn’t help himself. It sounded pretty far-fetched.

‘What about leaving two or three thousand dollars’ worth of scuba gear lying around in a toilet with a busted lock?’

‘And that suggests to you that the perp brought all the gear with him to make it look as if it was Winter’s, and then busted open the day head because he didn’t have the key?’

That was exactly what he thought. He wasn’t about to admit it to Cortez.

‘Did you find a note?’ Cortez said.

‘Nowhere obvious, no. It’s not tied around his neck.’

Cortez nodded at the unsurprising answer, put a consolatory hand on his arm as if the discussion-cum-argument was already at an end.

‘Don’t worry, we’ll be looking into Mr Winter’s personal and financial affairs. See if he was in financial difficulties, that sort of thing. A boat like this is a money pit. A lot of people don’t realize it until it’s too late. But at the moment, it looks like a pretty clear-cut case of suicide.’

Up until that point Evan could see what Rodriguez meant about everybody liking Cortez, a picture of calm reasonableness. Then it was as if the wind had suddenly changed direction, blowing in from a colder place to leave them standing at the point where the paths of truth and untruth diverged.

‘Unless you know anything we don’t, of course.’

There was a harder edge to the voice now. The eyes too had changed. The almost friendly sparkle in them was gone, replaced by a sharper glint. The sort of eyes that didn’t miss a thing. He knew they were about to drop at any second to the wet patch spreading out from his pocket, the guilty clue growing steadily bigger. He’d have expected to see noses wrinkled by now, was sure everybody must be able to smell the odor of rotting fish.

A noise told him he didn’t have to worry about any of those things. The sound of the door to Segal’s salon sliding open. And here Segal was now, come to drop him in it. Fed up with being banished to his own boat, unable to hear anything that was said through the glass doors, he made his bid for the spotlight.

‘I saw him find something. He put it in his pocket.’

Cortez stiffened, didn’t turn to face him. There was no need. Evan’s face gave him away. Bad face . He stuck his hand in his pocket, pulled out the stiff slimy fish. Held it out towards Cortez by the tail, biting his tongue to keep the smile off his lips. Because it was no laughing matter.

Cortez stared at the fish, didn’t make a move to take it. A raised eyebrow asked Evan if he’d like to explain himself.

‘There’s a plastic bag with a USB thumb drive inside stuck in its throat. But the water got in.’

Cortez nodded like that explained everything, why didn’t you say so earlier?

‘That’s why you didn’t mention it. You didn’t want to waste our time seeing as it’s useless anyway. You’re worried about the best use of your tax dollars. You want to tell your story again? With all the facts this time? We could do that down at the station if you like.’

Evan felt ridiculous holding out the fish that Cortez still hadn’t taken. He dropped his arm, felt just as stupid. A man holding a dead fish at his side instead of out in front of him. He was tempted to throw it back in the sea.

‘The only thing I didn’t say is that Crow thought Winter might be in danger because of what he was working on. That might be what’s on this.’ He held up the fish again, waggled it in Cortez’s face.

Finally Cortez got sick of the sight of the fish. And Evan by the look of it.

‘Ricky! Bag this up.’

Deputy Dawg aka Ricky swaggered down the jetty, a fine example of modern-day policing with his mirrored shades and an unlit cigarette stuck to his bottom lip. Evan wouldn’t have been surprised to be told to get off his horse and drink his milk. Ricky held an evidence bag open towards Evan. Evan dropped the fish in, looked around for somewhere to wipe his fingers. Not comfortable asking either Ricky or Cortez for a kleenex, he gave up and wiped them on his pants. They were going to stink anyway.

He caught sight of Cortez’s face watching Ricky as he sauntered back towards the cruiser, the God-help-us despair. Good to know, he thought. A cop after Guillory’s own heart. A potential ally should things develop the way they looked like they were going to. Then Cortez turned the glare back on him.

‘Now you know everything we do,’ Evan said.

Cortez gave him a hard stare, a chance to add more. Everybody was holding their breath, waiting to see if Evan was going to be arrested. For having a pocket full of fish slime in a public place if nothing else. Then Cortez’s shoulders relaxed. The moment passed.

‘I hope for your sake that’s true. Because we can always take you down the station for a strip search, see what else you’ve got secreted about your person.’

Evan didn’t like the sound of your person . On the neighboring boat Segal liked the sound of it a lot. He looked as if he wanted to add something to his earlier statement. But Cortez was only joking, carried on before Segal could open his mouth.

‘I have to tell you, I know how in your world it’s all secret agents and cloak and dagger stuff, but to me it still looks like a sad old man with a ton of debt and a drink problem who decided to call it a day. So we’ll take a look at what’s on that thumb drive, but I’m not going to hold my breath. I suggest you don’t either.’

He reckoned he’d just been told they weren’t going to throw the book at him, decided now wasn’t a good time to ask what happened if it turned out the information on the thumb drive linked directly to Winter’s death.

‘We’ll need you to come in tomorrow morning and give a formal statement,’ Cortez said. ‘You can go now. We can take it from here.’

There was one thing Evan was dying to ask before he went. The hardness in Cortez’s eyes had softened sufficiently for him to risk it.

‘What did you mean when you first arrived, when you said I can see what she means? You were talking about what Guillory said about me.’

Cortez gave him another flash of the perfect teeth against the full lips.

‘That’s just between us girls.’

Evan reckoned it must be hard-wired into him, his attraction to female police officers. Because if it hadn’t been for Guillory, he’d have asked Ana Maria Cortez if she wanted to drive down to Key West with him once she’d finished putting poor old George Winter to bed. The strip search didn’t sound so bad either.