Free Death on a Vineyard Beach by Philip R. Craig

Mexico. You lied about your age and joined the army when you were seventeen. You were in Vietnam at the very end of hostilities, were wounded, and received various citations. After you returned to America, you joined the Boston Police, where you served five years. During that time your father died when a wall collapsed during a warehouse fire; you married, and you graduated from Northeastern University. A month after your graduation you were shot during a robbery attempt and subsequently took a disability retirement. Your marriage ended in divorce, and you came to Martha’s Vineyard.
    â€œYou live in a house that you inherited from your father. Earlier this month, you married Zeolinda Madieras, who is a nurse at the Martha’s Vineyard Hospital. You were on your honeymoon when you saved Luciano’s life in Boston. You drive a, shall we say, rather elderly Toyota Land Cruiser, and you supplement your disability income by fishing and doing a variety of other jobs. You know the island very well, having vacationed here since you were a childand having lived here since leaving Somerville.” He looked up at me. “There’s more.”
    I pointed a finger at Decker. “There’s the man you should have doing your investigating.”
    â€œNot at all,” said Decker. “It’s all on public record. I just made a few phone calls.”
    â€œThe important thing,” said Marcus, “is that you not only have experience as a police officer, but you know this island and its people. Thomas does not. He can make the sorts of inquiries he made about you, but he has no—what do you call it?—local knowledge. He doesn’t know the islanders. You do. I want to buy your experience and your knowledge. Moreover, you have already saved my life, and I am, therefore, certain that I can trust you. I am a wealthy man, Mr. Jackson. I can pay for my desires, and I desire your help.” He mentioned a sum, and I’m sure my eyebrows went up.
    The money he mentioned was considerable by my standards, and the bluefish were beginning to head north, away from Vineyard waters, as they always did at the end of July, which meant that I wouldn’t be spending as much time on the beach as I did when the fish were in. Still, I hedged. “I’d need to know as much as I can about your life and your business. You might not want me to know things I might want to know.”
    â€œI’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”
    â€œWho decides what that is? You, or me?”
    His voice was like iron covered with silk. “I suggest that we cross that bridge if we come to it.”
    I realized that I was tempted, but threw in one more caveat.
    â€œSome people are willing to work with people who tell them lies. I’ve done that myself, but I never liked doing it. If you don’t want to tell me something, just say so, and I’ll live with that or quit the job. But no lies.”
    â€œFair enough.” He lifted his glass. “It’s a bargain, then. You please me, Mr. Jackson.”
    I think it was the idea of Joe Begay being on the island that decided me. Then there was the money, of course. Andthere was Luciano’s family. Like the Oblonskys, the Marcus household seemed unhappy in its own way, and that was interesting.
    â€œCall me J. W.,” I said. “All my friends do.”

   8   
    â€œI like Angela,” said Zee, when we got home. “She invited me back to look at her gardens. She’s a very down-to-earth person.”
    â€œI have to go back myself,” I said. “Luciano gave me a job. He wants me to find out who tried to kill him, and why. He has several other people working on it, all on the mainland. I’m the island rep.”
    She was quiet for a while. Then she said, “I thought we had policemen to do that sort of thing.”
    â€œI have a reason for taking the job.” I pulled the reason out of my shirt