Allyn Allyn - Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine. Vol. 135, No. 1. Whole No. 821, January 2010

“‘We’?”

“Me and Benny.”

“What about the woman?”

“Esme... she wasn’t hungry. Said she had a headache. She’d been up on deck sunning herself, and it got windy. Boat was really rocking, so she went into the stateroom to lie down. Like I said, I drank too much. I stretched out on the sofa in the salon and fell asleep. Slept a long time. When I woke up, it was dark. A light was on above the bar. Clock said around five a.m. I could feel we were drifting. I started to get up then... then I tripped over Esme. She was just lying there. At first I thought she was sleeping. I touched her. She was cold. I knew she was dead.”

He shook his head hard.

Javier asked, “What did you do next?”

“I just sat there for a while. I was kind of numb. Even though I knew Esme was dead, I kept waiting for her to get up. All of a sudden, there was this big jolt; I almost fell out of my seat. The boat had run aground. I started calling for Benny. Then I looked all over the boat for him, but he was gone. I got scared and jumped overboard.”

“Did you take anything with you?”

“No. Only my wallet. It was in my back pocket.”

“Why didn’t you take your passport?”

“I didn’t think of it.”

“How much cash in dollars did your brother keep on board?”

Cassidy scratched his head. “I’m not sure — a few thousand, I guess. Look, do you know where Benny is?”

“No. Do you have any idea where he could have gone?”

“Why would I be asking you if I knew? A guy just doesn’t suddenly disappear.”

“Your wallet had several credit cards belonging to your brother.”

“Benny never liked dealing with waitresses and hotel clerks. I handled that. He was used to other people doing things for him.”

“Such as?”

“You know — like if he got into a fight and messed up the place, I took care of the damages.”

“How fortunate he had you to help him.”

The gringo started to say something, then stopped.

“Mr. Cassidy, that stain on your shirt. What is it?”

“I don’t know. Probably just grease from something I ate.”

“I think it’s blood. We’ll have to examine it.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s Benny’s. Yesterday morning we threw a few punches at each other. So he bled a little on me. No big deal.”

“Is that how you scraped your knuckles?”

Cassidy rubbed his right hand over his left. “Yeah, guess so.”

“What was the fight about?”

“Nothing — I don’t remember.”

“The woman — she was very beautiful. Was she a whore you two picked up?”

“Don’t talk that way about her! Esme was something special.”

“How would you know? She was your brother’s.”

His face reddened. “I met her first. It was in a clothing store where she worked. That’s where I bought this shirt. We went out a couple times and hit it off good. But, of course, Esme wanted to meet my brother. All the girls wanted to meet Benny, the All Star.”

“She slept with him, while you slept alone in the navigation room. I understand why you felt like hitting him. He had the woman and you—”

“No, you got it all wrong. The fight wasn’t about anything. Look, we were stuck on this boat for four days out fishing. It got on both our nerves. We got into some argument — I don’t even remember what it was about. He called me an idiot, and I said something back, and he hit me, so I slugged him. That’s just the way we always play.”

“You call it playing?”

For a moment, Cassidy smiled. Then his face turned gray, and he began to sweat. “You see the way I walk, with a limp? You know how good a pitcher my brother is. Well, I was better. I was a lefty like Koufax, and they said my fastball rose just like his.” He made a sweeping motion with his left arm. “Of course, that was in college. That was before my brother and I were in a pickup game of basketball, when we both went for a rebound and Benny came down full on my knee. Doesn’t matter how fast you throw, if you got no pivot foot. You understand?”

“All these years, he is an All-Star pitcher, and you — you are his brother. You are taller, but his shadow is much bigger. Yes?”

“Like I said, that’s the way we play.”

Looking at Cassidy’s sneakers, Javier asked, “The last time you saw your brother, what was he wearing on his feet?”

“Benny always wore sandals on board. Why?”

“In the stateroom, it looked like the woman was packing.”

“We were planning to tie in at Santo Domingo the next day. Maybe Esme was getting ready.”

“Getting ready to do what? To simply go ashore with you both, or to leave your brother?”

The two men stared at each other for a long time. Finally, Javier motioned for Rivera to follow him outside.

Blinking back the sunlight, he said, “Get Cassidy something to eat. Then go over to Rosi’s store and buy him a shirt. Don’t spend too much. Take his — they’ll want to analyze the stain. And call the capital — let them know we’ve located Benny Cassidy’s brother. I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going, Hugo?”

“Home to shave and put on a new uniform.”

Two hours later, a small parade exited the puddle jumper that landed from the capital. First two Dominicans, followed by three gringos — all in suits — and finally a police captain. Although Javier was the only one there to greet them, the officer looked past him, as if seeking someone of greater importance. Short and thin, he tapped his right hand against his thigh as if it held a riding crop. His black hair, shiny from gel, was combed straight back, which intensified the arch of his eyebrows. He had a thin moustache, like the vaqueros in the Mexican cowboy movies Javier had loved as a boy.

“I’m Captain Murillo. Are you in charge?”

“Yes, sir. Sergeant Hugo Javier.”

Nodding at the tallest gringo, Murillo added, “This is Agent Wellman of the United States FBI The other two men, his colleagues, are forensic experts who will be assisting my two technicians. They will examine the body and identify any evidence. Afterwards, the body will be sent to Santo Domingo for further examination.”

The tall American stepped forward and gave Javier a firm handshake. “Hello. I’m Tom Wellman.”

He was in his mid thirties — much younger than the other two agents. Blond, broad-shouldered, and tan, he looked more like a soap opera star than a policeman. The only thing that marred his image was a slight tic in his left cheek. It disappeared when he smiled.

“Thank you for your assistance,” Wellman said, his Spanish surprisingly good. “I’m based in Miami. When we learned about the death of Miss Hernandez, and that two Americans might be involved, especially a high-profile sports figure like Benny Cassidy, we wanted to conduct an investigation as quickly as possible. Once the press gets hold of this, things can start getting out of hand.”

“No need to involve Javier in the details,” Murillo said, walking past them. “We need to go to the boat immediately.”

Javier chauffeured Murillo and Wellman, while Rivera drove the others. The captain wanted a full report. Javier described where the woman had been discovered and the subsequent search of the yacht.

“You didn’t touch anything,” Murillo said. “You know we have experts. We don’t want anything to happen like in that O. J. Simpson case. Right, Señor Wellman?”

“I’m sure Sergeant Javier is a professional.”

“And this brother of Benny Cassidy?”

Javier explained how his men had taken Jeff Cassidy into custody, then summarized the interrogation.

Murillo said, “You were told on the phone to do nothing until I arrived. I hope you haven’t put this Cassidy on his guard.” To Wellman, “You see what we’re up against with these locals.”