Free Murder Is My Dish by Stephen Marlowe Page B

“This won’t be the first time Rafael Caballero has gone off by himself without leaving word. And it won’t be the last.”
    â€œSure,” I said. “That explains it. So he beat his own bodyguard to death to make sure Mrs. Caballero didn’t find out where he was.”
    Lequerica was still in there pitching with his smile, but it was wearing a little thin. “Exactly what can I do to help you, Mr. Drum?” he asked.
    â€œI want to go aboard the Parana Lines Ship Mistral . I want to see a fellow named Duarte. I’d like a letter from you.”
    It didn’t get much out of him. It got, “Then you did read the papers this morning.”
    â€œNo. Why?”
    â€œIt’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? That’s what a Mrs. Julio Hernandez told the reporters, that Caballero met with foul play aboard the Mistral .”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œThere isn’t any and. Thieves fall out, Mr. Drum, you know the old saw. Caballero’s missing. They decide to capitalize on it. They send a ransom note. They wouldn’t know Caballero if they bumped into him on the street. An unknown courier delivers the money.” Good old Lieutenant Grundy, I thought. I had become an unknown courier because Grundy still hoped I would lead his little gray man into the thick of things. Lequerica went on: “Then the phony kidnapers fight over the money, and two of them are killed. I’m a little surprised at you, Mr. Drum. You should have been able to see through the innuendos in the newspapers. My country isn’t very popular with the American press.”
    I said, “You’re forgetting one thing. Caballero’s disappearance wasn’t made public, Mr. Lequerica, so how did your phony kidnapers know about it?”
    â€œI haven’t the faintest idea how,” he said. His smile was like New Year’s Eve party favors on New Year’s morning, when you’d rather have an ice pack. “Do you?”
    â€œOne of the dead men was from the Mistral .”
    â€œThe papers made a big thing out of it. But you know yellow journalism when you see it, don’t you?”
    â€œCaballero’s bodyguard was beaten to death a couple of blocks from the Mistral ’s berth. That’s what he said right before he died. Mistral . I was with him.”
    â€œLet’s assume—but I don’t believe it for a minute—Caballero did meet with foul play. He could have had enemies here in New York. He’s an American citizen. What makes you think the Parana Republic—”
    â€œI never said what I thought. I intend to find out.” Grundy’s idea seemed like a good one to me. I didn’t mention my role last night. “I want to go aboard the Mistral with a letter of introduction from you.”
    â€œI’m afraid we’re back where we started from.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œI won’t give it to you, Mr. Drum.”
    â€œLittle odd that the second officer on the Mistral is a big shot in the Paranaian Security Forces, don’t you think?”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said icily.
    â€œIf Caballero—”
    â€œIf Caballero has indeed met with foul play, Mr. Drum, it was through the failure of your agency to furnish the protection he was paying for. Under the circumstances you ought to accept my check and leave the investigation in more competent hands.”
    â€œLike Señor Duarte’s?”
    Just then Kiki Magyar came in with a birchwood tray on which were the fixings for drinks. Lequerica told her with a perfunctory smile, “Mr. Drum was just going.”
    She didn’t argue. I looked at him. I didn’t argue, either. It wouldn’t have helped. “Have a nice trip,” I said.
    I took another cab down to West Street through the cold rain. After the glitter of their apartment and Kiki’s diamond and Lequerica’s brittle smile, the slick