him by the balls and squeezed. With my left hand, I yanked one of his feet out from under him and he fell on his back. Sweat popped out and ran off him like water. He tried to kick, but I was on him. Powerful arms lashed out, but I was too close, too quick. A couple of short, hard punches to his temple ended the struggle. He had not uttered a sound since I grabbed him. He was tough.
Dragging him over to the boat out of Key West, I threw him into the cockpit. Dipping a bucket of seawater, I poured it over his head. He started to come around. Taking a filet knife from a leather sheath by the fishing rods, I sat on his chest and made a cut across his neck, just deep enough so that he could feel it.
'You hurt me, Mon,' he grunted through clinched teeth. 'You hurt Mako bad. What you want, Mon?'
'Listen carefully, Scarhead. I'm only going to say this once.' I cut a little deeper. 'You put a drugged up young woman on the seaplane to Miami. Who ordered you to do that?'
He shook his head, 'Don't know what you talking about, Mon.'
Pushing the knife blade deeper into the cut, I said, 'What boat did she come in on?'
Struggling, he said, 'A sportfisherman, Mon. Down from Nassau. Don't see the name.'
'You're a lying bucket of bilge water.' Cutting deeper than I intended, a sudden flow of blood ran down onto the deck. It didn't appear to be arterial. 'This is your last chance to tell me what I want to hear, then I'm going to cut your privates off and feed them to the fish down by the pilings. You understand me?'
Sweat glistened off the black face and he smelled like he hadn't bathed in a week. 'The Sun Dog, Mon. The Sun Dog.'
'Who owns it?'
He closed his eyes for a moment, and a tightening movement of his face formed a smile that substituted for a moan of pain. 'You a mean one. Maybe I come work for you. We make a good team, Mon.'
'I don't think so. I hate bullies and will not tolerate the killing of young, innocent women. Now who owns the boat?'
'Don't know his name. He a doper running the whole island chain. That's the truth, Mon.'
'How you know him?'
'Guy works for him hired me to deliver around here. Don't know anything but a nickname. Calls himself Moley.'
Removing the knife from his neck, I said, 'Get out of here before I change my mind about killing you.'
He stood slowly, feeling the cut in his neck with one hand and his testicles with the other. 'You a mean one, Mon. We meet again some other time. Yes sir, we meet again.'
All of a sudden I was tired. The last four days was taking its toll. Washing the blood off the cockpit deck, I headed back to the Angler. Mako wouldn't give me any trouble tonight, but he might have a friend.
The bartender sat a drink in front of me as I eased onto a stool in the bar. 'Mako left behind you tonight, and he was plenty mad. You have any trouble?'
'Nothing I couldn't handle. You got any kids?'
'Why?'
'Need someone to guard my door tonight, let me know if anyone comes around.'
'My thirteen year old is dependable. He watch your door. You pay him, but not too much. Don't want him spoiled.'
I slid a fifty under the drink. 'Thanks.'
'The boy will be there in an hour.'
Thirty minutes later there was a soft tap on the door. He was a chip off the old block, a mirror image of his father with sun-bleached hair and a round, boyish face. Huge, alert eyes hidden far back under thin eyebrows danced and darted in the dim hallway. He was a young kid growing quickly into manhood on a dangerous and hard island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Handing him a twenty-dollar bill, the expression on his face told me I could sleep easy.
CHAPTER NINE
Telling the young son of the bartender, whose name was Ansel, that someone might try and sneak up the stairs or climb up the outside of the hotel to get to me, I asked if he thought he could stay awake and if any of this frightened him in any way?
With a wile grin, he said, 'Papa told me you run up against Mako. I stay awake with no trouble, and tell you if anyone comes around.' His face glistened with sweat in the darkened hall, the jaw set. A street-wise kid who was smart, tough, and brought up severely on the island to handle the harsh reality of life; he already thought like an adult.
Confident in the boy, I lay down and remember nothing after my head hit the pillow. Sometime later, I woke aware of a presence in the room. Slowly opening my eyes, I found I was facing the wall, and the glow of false dawn etched odd angles on everything. Turning slowly, I saw the firm-set jaw of young Ansel.
'You said to wake you at dawn, suh. It's about that time. Nobody came during the night. You want me to get you coffee? I can make some in the kitchen. Wouldn't mind a cup myself.'
'You go fix the coffee. I'll be down as soon as I dress.'
Downstairs, Ansel brewed a strong, black coffee on the gas stove of the tiny kitchen. The air was hot and sticky. He made the coffee the old way, grinding the beans, boiling them in a pot. No drip-grind or percolated for this kid. His movements were quick and sure in the small space.
'My Maw, she cook here at the hotel. Taught me how to make the coffee. Good, yeah?'
'Yes, Ansel. None ever better.'
He grinned, showing a youthful set of glistening teeth in the early morning light.
'You know Joseph, the man who runs the Compound for the rich folks on the north end of the island?'
'Yes suh, I know Mr. Joseph. He a good man. His number two boy, him and me play the baseball together and fish the flats.
'Does he still live in the house by the Marine lab?'
'Yes suh, all my life he been there.'
Handing him another twenty, I said, 'You did a good job last night, thanks.'
His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. 'That's too much.'
'I may need some help, later. Can I count on you?'
'You bet.' He stuck the bill in the pocket of his worn, sun-bleached jeans.
Back in the room, I thought about what Mako said concerning the Sun Dog coming over from Nassau. Figuring that island was my next move, I packed my ditty bag and checked out of the Complet Angler Inn.
In the foyer, next to the counter, a schedule of Chalk Airline's routes was posted on the wall. The next flight to Nassau was not until tomorrow afternoon. That wouldn't do, I needed to get there today. Maybe Joseph could run me over in one of the Compound's sportfishing boats. It would put me in Nassau by mid-afternoon.
The steps of the hotel were covered with dew. To the east, rays from the sun were shining on the bottom of low clouds left over from a dissipating line of thunderstorms. They were gunmetal blue and gray, then slowly turned a burnt orange, then fiery red. It was going to be a warm day, but now it was still cool and you could smell the wood fires of the cook stoves wafting over from Alicetown.
Joseph's house appeared in the morning haze. It was not the biggest home along the street, but it was the neatest. Sitting on the side of a small dune, it was painted a bright white with green trim. The traditional fence was built of seashells and the pink, gold, and green of the queen conchs caused the fence to dance in a calliope of colors in the morning light.
Joseph's was the only one without casts of sea life on the posts. When asked about this, he replied, 'Cop'um, I love all the fish in the sea. They been good to me. Don't seem right to hang'em on my fence. Bet they wouldn't hang Joseph on their post if they had a fence.'
Made perfect sense to me.
Joseph was sitting on his front steps drinking coffee when I walked up. He saw me coming from a long way off, but pretended not to notice until I entered his front gate. He did not see or hear things until they demanded his attention. 'Learn a lot more that way,' he used to say.
