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The Gulf and the Spy Part Five of The Gulf Series by Rick Beck Chapter Twenty-One "Just Dropped In" Back to Chapter Twenty On to Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Index Rick Beck Home Page  Young Adult Drama Murder Mystery Proudly presented by The Tarheel Writer - On the Web since 24 February 2003. Celebrating 21 Years on the Internet! Tarheel Home Page |
Clay stepped inside the sheriff's station, turning toward Eva.
"I brought Ivan's dinner. I intend to watch him eat it. Tell the sheriff to come out here," Clay said in no uncertain terms.
"Sheriff, there's someone here to see you," Eva said with the lilt of mischief in her voice.
"Who is it, Eva?" the sheriff growled over the intercom.
"Clayton Olson," she said in her sultry voice.
Eva was all smiles when the sheriff charged out of his office.
"You can't see him, Olson. We got rules here. Call me in the morning and we'll schedule a short visit. He's in prison and this ain't no social club."
Clay stood and faced Sheriff Davis.
"I brought Ivan his dinner. I know what you try to pass off as food here. Get him out of his cell, bring him up here, and I plan to watch him eat every bite. Fuck with me on this, Gerald, and I'll go straight over your head. I'll go so far over your head, you're going to think the sky is falling. So, go get him and bring him up here."
While Clay spoke, Gerald shifted from his right foot, to his left foot, and back to his right foot. He didn't like Clay and he certainly didn't like Ivan. He didn't get boyfriends, but there were two men in the cove it was best not to piss off. One was the senator and the other was the senator's boy. Both had outgrown the cove but unlike most locals who left and never looked back, they stood by the cove no matter how well known they were. He didn't get that either.
It wouldn't cost him anything to give in on this one detail.
"Take the food into my office. I'll bring him up," he said, jangling his keys as Eva smiled at the sheriff's retreat.
"He isn't as nice as he seems," Eva said. "Want me to should show you into the sheriff's office, Clayton?"
"No, Eva, I think I can find it. Thank you," he said, going into the sheriff's office and closing the door.
The door opened to the sheriff's office, and Ivan stepped inside, rubbing his wrists.
"I wondered what this was all about. I expected high intensity lights and a rubber hose," Ivan quipped.
"He handcuffed you to bring you up here from the cells?"
"Yeah, you know Gerald, anything to show his authority. Like I'm going to jump him and escape," Ivan said. "I brought you dinner. Mama insisted. Mama's heard about the food here. I think she'll see to it you get fed properly. I'll see to it."
"Your mother knows I've been arrested?" Ivan asked.
"Everyone knows, Ivan. Sit down and eat. Mama was fixing some of your favorites tonight. You lucked out and it's still hot," Clay said, carefully placing the plate down on the edge of the sheriff's desk. Clay wanted to kiss him but he wouldn't kiss him in this place. There was no telling who was watching them and he was sure Gerald could hear every word they said.
Once Ivan was home, there'd be plenty of time for kissing.
"Are you OK?" Clay asked.
Ivan bit into the biscuit he'd picked up off the plate. With eyes closed and a heavenly look on his face, he sang, "Mama's biscuits. Tell Mama her biscuits are exquisite. They shouldn't be in a place like this. I've been better. Mama's biscuits, I'd walk a mile for one of these. My cell is eight feet deep and eight feet wide. I can tell you it's the Ritz compared to a tiger cage, but I can't walk far." He kept chewing.
"I've been trying to get Harry. He's picked a hell of time to go missing. As soon as I get him, you'll be out of here. I'm sorry I can't do anything without Harry."
"How the hell did you get Gerald to sit still for this? My dinner is a brown bag in my cell. I didn't have the will to open it," Ivan said.
"I told him the sky was going to fall on him if he didn't allow it."
Ivan looked up from the second lamp chop. He saw Clay differently. Somehow, he'd stayed away from Clay for nearly ten years. That would be impossible now. He was younger then, but he was so much in love with the man it almost hurt, and being locked away from Clay gave him an ache so deep in his heart nothing could reach that deep.
Ivan couldn't be sure how this would turn out. If he was separated from Clay and Dylan for too long, he'd die, and he'd rather die than live out of reach of the man he loved and his son.
"You don't know how good this is," Ivan finally said.
"No, I don't. I came over before I ate. Mama will keep a plate warm," Clay said.
"Don't do that, Babe. Eat when it's ready. I'm not going anywhere. Believe me when I say waiting for you to eat is a pleasure if I get one of Mama's meals."
"OK. I needed to see you. I've got a problem," Clay said. "I needed to talk to you about it."
"You got a problem," Ivan laughed, thinking it sounded funny. "I'm in jail."
"Ivan, what do I do about Dylan?"
Ivan was slapped back into the reality that was his life.
"I hate this," Ivan said, banging his fist down on the desk.
The door swung open and Gerald stood with his hand on his gun.
"You two have had enough time to eat two dinners. Time for him to go back downstairs," Gerald said.
"Give us a minute, Gerald," Ivan said.
Gerald closed the door.
"Dylan. I promised him this would never happen. It's the only thing he's ever asked of me. 'Don't leave me again.'"
"He knows where you are. He wants to see you and he's not going to settle for anything less. I don't want him seeing you here."
"I don't want him seeing me here either. He'll never forget his father was in jail. I don't want that," Ivan said. "You're his father. You know him best. Do what you need to do to keep this from making him mad at the world. He's a free spirit, Clay. He needs to stay that way. It's how you raised him to be; I don't want this to change him. I don't want him angry at me for failing him."
"It's not your fault," Clay said.
"Whose fault is it? I'm the one who has gone missing. I told him I would never leave him."
"He'll grow up, fall in love, move away," Clay said. "His life is ahead of him."
"He gets to leave me, Clay. I don't get to leave him. I promised."
Clay sat at the table in the kitchen eating dinner. Lucy came in to offer moral support. Mama made sandwiches from yesterday's ham, slicing off enough ham to make several meal size ham sandwiches. Slicing the second of the two cherry pies she baked earlier, she filled a bag with sandwiches and pie for Clay to take to the shop for Tag, and whoever else happened by and needed sustenance.
Mama knew what to do when trouble came to their door. "Eat."
She didn't eat. She busied herself fixing the food.
This kept Mama's mind off trouble. It's the way it had always been for Mama. Busy hands kept idle thoughts at bay.
"What are you reading, Sis?" Clay asked.
"The Age of Innocence", Edith Wharton. I love her style. I read her when I was in school, but I never read this book."
"You think Dylan might like it?" Clay asked.
"I do, and you want me to spend some time reading to him?"
"You always could read my mind. I want to go to the shop and I don't want Dylan there. He needs to keep his distance from the craziness."
"You don't get in too deep, Clay. Keep your emotions in check. You know Ivan didn't do this and it will be proved. It won't be proved soon enough for any of us, but justice moves at its own pace."
"Spoken like a true congresswoman, Congresswoman. I am OK for now. I will try to stay in control," Clay said. "How do I get Dylan to see his father is coming home? Just not soon enough for any of us."
Tag had already eaten the dinner his mother dropped off before she went home for the day, but ham sandwiches were his favorite, and if there was anything better than his mother's cherry pie, it was Mrs. Olson's, although he'd never tell his mama that.
"Our mothers must be related," Tag said, biting into the first ham sandwich. McCoy ate one of the sandwiches, after coming up from dinner his wife cooked. She was knitting after she finished cleaning up. He told her not to wait up. McCoy anticipated a long night ahead.
Mildred was a policeman's wife, and even on vacation her husband was on the job where he was needed.
No one was sure what they were waiting for. Ivan was arrested hours before, and he wasn't likely to be coming home any time soon. The senator had been called, and called, and called. Clay didn't want to leave a message saying what it was about, because he didn't want Harry's people knowing Ivan was arrested. Harry had enough to worry about without worrying about his people getting involved in something that was none of their business.
Clay knew Harry would call that evening, and he'd know where he'd be if he wasn't at the house. Sooner or later the senator would call the shop, and Clay would update what had happened since Harry was on the phone with Ivan at three.
It was about nine and Tag was beginning to yawn. McCoy read from an old copy of Time, which sat in a pile beside Ivan's desk. Anything to fight off the boredom. Clay knew that Harry would call the shop sooner or later. It was the last contact he'd had and he should have called back long ago. When he couldn't find Clay anywhere else, he'd call the shop and Clay would update him.
Tag had finished reading the current issue of Rolling Stone, but he was rereading a fascinating article about Apple Records and the incredible talent they were recording since the day the doors opened. Rock royalty came together there to record on each other's records.
Tag heard it first. He knew the sounds the cove made as well as anyone. He looked up from the paper and cocked his head to one side to identify the sound.
First Clay and then McCoy looked at Tag.
"It's the Beechcraft. Harry's home," Tag said with surprise.
"No wonder no one can find you," Clay said.
"Impressive," McCoy said, failing to explain what he meant.
A minute later, Harry flew northward over the cove and the shop, letting them know he was home. He circled one more time to get in position to land on the runway behind the house.
"No wonder I couldn't get him. He's been in the air," Clay said.
"Takes almost four hours to fly from DC to here in the Beechcraft. He must have left shortly after he was on the phone with Ivan," Tag calculated.
"He came home for Ivan?" McCoy asked himself.
That was impressive. McCoy was impressed. The man was a United States Senator, and he flew home because a shop owner in the cove had gotten himself in trouble.
No one but Harry knew why Harry flew home. He'd screwed the pooch and if he didn't do something to rectify the situation, decades of work at the Conservancy could be lost, and the Conservancy was the only reason why Harry did the things he did.
Harry was a US Senator, and he never did anything that wasn't scheduled first. Every minute of every day was on a schedule once he got to DC. Even during the chaos of budget negotiations, it was all choreographed by his chief of staff. The senator knew where he had to be and when he had to be there, every minute of the day or night.
That's why, when Harry approached the majority leader at 3:10 on Thursday afternoon, the majority leader suspended budget negotiations until Tuesday at noon.
"I've got trouble at home, Henry. I've got to go home."
The majority leader didn't know what the trouble was, and Harry was gone before he could ask.
Harry had already called Hyde Field to have his plane readied, and he called for his driver to be sent around. He had one job to do this week that didn't involve the budget, and he failed to do it, and he was sure he knew why Ivan was arrested. It was his fault. He had to go home and see if he could set it right.
Harry considered calling Langley, but what would he say? Alerting them before he assessed the situation was a bad idea. Once he got home, he'd have plenty of time to do what needed to be done.
As they drove toward Hyde Field, Harry didn't have anything to say. Whatever mess had been created by his failure to get Ivan on the phone had become costly. Harry once again thought about the good he was able to do by being in the senate, and the difficulty there was getting anyone to help him with the environment. Harry wondered if he was slipping. The job got more complicated and less got done every day.
The people coming to the senate were funded by men who wanted nothing done to stop the pollution. These men stood in the way of any serious legislation to clean up the air and water. Taxing them to get the funds to clean up the environment was a nonstarter.
Harry's job was made even harder with the election of the latest president who was successful thanks to the deep pockets of the fossil fuel industry. Reagan was an actor, and he was acting on behalf of the polluters.
Maybe it was time to call it a day and return to Florida to stay. Work on the problem as an independent environmentalist. Harry did his best thinking while he flew the Beechcraft, especially when he was flying it home.
Until he got home, he wouldn't know what went wrong, but if Ivan was arrested because of his negligence, Clayton Olson was going to give him hell.
That he wanted to avoid at all cost.
When had life become so goddamn complicated?
As soon as Taggart said it was the Beechcraft, Clay stood up and walked outside to look west at the lights of the plane as it made its final approach. The sight of Harry's plane gave Clay hope.
"Maybe you can do something, Harry," Clay said to himself. "I need you to do something."
Clay knew where Harry was supposed to be, but he didn't give a damn. Harry came home because Clay needed him.
It took Algie longer than usual to switch on the landing lights. No one told him Harry was on the way home.
Harry was on automatic pilot for most of the way, but he snapped to attention once he was making his approach at the runway behind the house.
It always took a little time for Harry to feel like he was back on the ground. As a passenger, he never noticed any difference, but as a pilot, the feeling of flight needed a bit of time to overcome.
Algie brought the car next to the hangar, and they exchanged hugs once Harry shut the engines down. Algie would be left to wonder what brought the big guy home without notice. He'd be told when Harry sat down to discuss his plans while he was home.
"Taggart, call Harry's. Have them tell him we're at the shop," Clay said as he came inside. "There's not a cloud in the sky. There must be a billion stars."
Tag made the call and gave Harrison the message. Clay sat and drank from his Coke. Tag leaned on the counter to wait. McCoy continued reading from Time magazine.
Twenty minutes after Clay lost sight of the Beechcraft once it went behind the trees, Harry came in the front door. "Clayton, you're here. Thank God. I won't need to go looking for you. This was the most likely place."
"You didn't see Harrison?" Tag asked.
"No, buttoned down the Beechcraft and I came right over. I'm anxious to know what's happening here. I can't believe he was arrested while I was talking to him. I should have called days ago."
"We knew the budget had you tied up," Clay said. "I was surprised you called, Harry, but you weren't calling me. Why were you calling Ivan anyway?"
Clay was adding things up and the answer wasn't there.
"I'd been meaning to call Ivan. I had information he needed, but the budget had me hogtied," Harry said, moving toward the desk.
"I had the feeling things weren't right all day. Clayton, I need you to tell me everything that's gone on here today. Don't leave anything out. Who is this?" Harry said, noticing McCoy in front of the window.
McCoy stood up in Harry's path. "It's a pleasure meeting you," he said. "I've heard a lot about you. I'm Angus McCoy."
What McCoy knew, and Harry had no idea of, was he was the answer to the senator's dilemma.
Harry was immediately put off. He sidestepped McCoy, ignoring the man's hand.
"We don't have time for this, Clayton. This isn't why I came home. This is private. Outsiders don't need to know what we say."
"Senator," Tag said. "I'd like to introduce you to Angus McCoy, Chicago PD. He's a homicide detective. He found the body."
"I don't..." Harry said, processing Tag's words.
Harry turned on the charm once he recovered his balance.
"Glad to make your acquaintance, McCoy. Since you've been here all day, tell me everything that happened here. Leave nothing out."
"Don't mind him McCoy. He's been flying all day," Clay said. "The oxygen is thin where our senator flies."
"Let me sit down. I need a drink. Didn't I leave a bottle here the last time I was home, Taggart?"
"Not here. Call the house. I'll head in that direction. Shouldn't take me ten minutes," Tag said.
"What do you drink, McCoy?" Harry asked.
"Fitzgerald."
"I'll call. They'll hand you a bottle of my bourbon, a bottle of branch, and a bottle of Fitzgerald once you are stopped."
"Got it. Be back in a few," Tag said, heading out.
"Have you seen Ivan?" Harry asked. "I know it's only been a few hours."
"I did. I took him dinner. Sat with him while he ate," Clay said.
"The sheriff didn't object?" Harry inquired.
"I reasoned with him," Clay said.
"Of course you did. Gerald's objectionable by nature. I've always considered Davis to be harmless. But in this case he isn't harmless. He's a damn fool and I don't trust him to do the job. How much time did you say you had for your vacation, McCoy? And how would you like to help your senator out here?"
"I'm from Chicago, Senator."
"Of course you are, I've just made you an honorary Floridian. Welcome to Florida, McCoy. How'd you like to make a good impression on your new senator? First, how is it you found the body?"
McCoy explained his involvement with the fire and the murder. Harry listened, asking questions to be sure he understood.
Harry was one of the most powerful men in the country. He got what he wanted by knowing what he wanted. He wanted McCoy and he intended to get him. How the man who would do him the most good was in the cove when Harry needed him would stay a mystery, but hopefully McCoy could get Harry off the hook with Clay.
He had no idea how good a detective McCoy was, but one thing was for certain, he had to be better than Sheriff Davis.
Tag returned with the booze and Harry fixed McCoy's drink first, dropping a few ice cubes into the glass from the silver container Tag brought along with the booze. Harry's drink was half consumed before he sat down behind Ivan's gigantic mahogany desk.
He may have screwed the pooch, but he was home, and he'd correct his mistake as best he could. A detective's instincts told McCoy that whatever happened from here on out, the senator would direct it. He knew politicians and his opinion was that they were slippery. Knowing that kept McCoy from getting into too much trouble at home.
"Give me your assessment on Ivan's arrest," Harry said.
"There's no assessment needed. That sheriff came on like gangbusters but besides looking at the body and having Ivan look at the body, he didn't do anything. No crime tape, and he didn't stay to search the crime scene. He has a predilection toward Ivan being the guilty party, but he didn't have any reason to think Ivan did it. I offered him whatever help I could give him. He brushed me off."
"That's our sheriff at work," Harry said. "He had no evidence against Ivan?"
"None. I know Ivan has a solid alibi, but I asked about it. The sheriff didn't. At eight o'clock this morning, he had nothing on Ivan. At three o'clock, without him coming anywhere near the crime scene a second time, he came back to arrest Ivan."
"Your conclusions, McCoy?"
"Someone told him to arrest Ivan for the murder."
"Who, McCoy?"
"I was hoping you'd tell me, Senator. This is an out of the way spot. Things move slowly in places like this. Florida isn't exactly a high intensity. Even if someone wanted to move on the murder, why Ivan?"
"Why Ivan?"
"I'm a detective. Nothing happens by accident. Someone called the sheriff and told him to arrest Ivan," McCoy said. "Someone with juice, Senator. Mason was a government man. Someone notified the feds of Mason's murder. It's the only thing that makes sense. That's a guess, Senator. I don't know it's true, but I strongly suspect it is."
"You've thought this through, McCoy," Harry said. "Another drink?"
"I thought you'd never ask," McCoy said, handing over his glass.
"McCoy, how'd you like to do some work while you're on vacation? I'm not offering to pay you. I'd like you to take the lead on this investigation. Ivan is important to me, to us. I want someone with your experience on this case."
"I thought you'd never ask," McCoy said. "I consider Ivan to be my friend. I'm probably not objective on this. I know my business, and I'll catch the killer, no matter who killed Mason."
"I need to make a call. Do you mind? You can fill me in once I'm done on the phone. It'll only take a minute," Harry said, the wheels turning inside his head as a plan came together.
"No, Sir, you make all the calls you want, Senator," Tag said, sensing the cavalry had arrived.
Harry picked up the phone and dialed from memory.
"Is Bob around, Helen? Tell him it's Senator McCallister."
Harry was silent for a couple of minutes.
"Governor, sorry to bother you, Bob," Harry said jovially. "I need a minute of your time and a small favor."
Harry listened for a minute.
"I'm sorry about that. What were you having? I haven't had my dinner yet. I just flew home from DC."
"Sounds absolutely scrumptious, Governor. I won't keep you. You'll be back to your roast duckling in no time. I have a situation here," Harry said. "No, not the budget. I'm at the house. My constituent, my friend here, has been taken into custody by our local sheriff. I think I mentioned Sheriff Davis to you. Adequate fellow, not adequate in this case, however, I'm afraid. What I need is an experienced professional. What I want from you, Bob, have your chief of staff ring up someone at the Chicago PD. You have people out there I hear. I have a homicide detective, Angus McCoy, he's offering me his assistance and I'm taking him up on it, because I can't afford any foul-ups in this case. I need McCoy temporarily assigned to us for as long as it takes to prove my man's innocent. He'll have your authority, Governor. Have your chief call the sheriff and relieve him for as long as necessary. No, I wouldn't want to make that call either, but it needs to be done. That will go a long way to getting this resolved with the proper outcome. You've got your dinner waiting. I won't keep you. I will not forget this, Bob. You will have my unflinching support when you make your run for the big job. Oh, a little bird told me." "Yes, I know you will and I appreciate that. You go finish your dinner now, and apologize to your wife for me. Let your chief do the heavy lifting. You know what I need now."
Harry hung up the phone looking quite pleased with himself.
"How much vacation do you have, McCoy?" Harry asked.
"Not quite a month," McCoy answered.
Chicago politicians were some of the most wily characters around, but McCoy could see the senator was a real pro at getting what he wanted. He expected as much.
"You know what I need from you?" Harry asked him.
"I can pretty much guess. Prove Ivan didn't do it, and find the person who did. Happens to be right up my alley, Senator."
"Now, someone tell me everything that has gone on here today. Leave nothing out," Harry said, after taking a swallow of bourbon and branch.
Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com
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