Vampire Slayer Murdered in Key West - Mick Murphy Short Stories Read Online Free PDF Page B

Custom Agents where in Key West and family men were going away to do hard time in far off jails. It stopped being a sport everyone was involved in, about that time.
    “You’re right though, I made good money off their treasure,” he sipped the coffee. “I never thought I would. I saw the three of them as colorful characters and tried to help them out with money. I thought of it as a handout, they considered it an investment in their businesses.”
    “Then you’re lucky they looked at it that way.”
    “Well, yeah,” he smiled. “For the derelict drunkards and liars they were, or are,” he smiled again, “they turned out to be men of their words.”
    “They sign anything?” I began to nibble my sandwich.
    “Never, we shook hands,” he closed his eyes again. “I backed their bringing Conch in from the Bahamas and they scuttle their boat on some sandbar and ended up eating most of the Conch before the Coast Guard found them. I paid for them to get their captain’s licenses so they could use one of their boats to take tourists to the reef. Hell, Mick, there had to be a dozen other schemes. I remember the day they walked into my office with some of their treasure and wanted me to be their partner.”
    “They needed money.”
    “You got that right. In all, I probably put in a little more than fifty grand,” he grinned. “What a return on that investment.”
    “You know Lucky was murdered too,” I watched him for a reaction. I didn’t see one, but then he’s an attorney and I am not sure they react to anything other than billing hours.
    “Yeah, I got a call from the police.”
    Shawn’s contacts went into all city departments and many local businesses, because he and his family owned a variety of businesses in Key West and the Upper Keys.
    “Everyone knows I handle their legal affairs,” he broke off a piece of my sandwich and ate it. “I do that pro bono, too.”
    “The cops have the Wizard and they’re looking for Bubba.”
    “I know these guys, they couldn’t kill anyone, they might drown you by mistake,” he laughed, “but they couldn’t kill anyone.”
    “Maybe it has something to do with the book?”
    Shawn laughed clearly this time. “The book! Mick, it wouldn’t be a memoir it would be a work of fiction. They haven’t been in their right minds for forty years. Is that what the cops think?”
    “I have no idea what the cops think.”
    “Yeah, but you found both bodies.”
    “I can’t argue that, counselor, and I think I’m Sherlock’s number one suspect.”
    “You’re another one I’d lay money on couldn’t kill someone.”
    “You know me, Shawn, I believe in running away so I can run another day.”
    “A man after my own heart. Hey, I need to get to the police station and see they aren’t using a rubber hose on Wizard. I’ll see you around,” he stood up, said something to Ron and left.
    I drank another cup of coffee, but still had a couple of hours before I could go back and get what Lucky had left with Tracy.
    • • •
    Light rain wet one side of Caroline Street, as I rode my bike toward Simonton Street, where I turned and then again on Fleming Street, going against the one-way traffic. The rain stayed at the waterfront. I locked my bike in front of Island Books.
    Books, shelved and in stacks, filled the narrow store. Books about Key West, its history, and its characters ran along the right wall; and there were signed books by Key West authors on a display as you first came into the shop. New books, used books, picture books filled the store. In the next room, the condition was the same, books, and more books.
    I saw Mitch’s head through the open door to his small office in the back, he was working at his computer. There was no one at the register and two customers wandered through the store.
    “You’re here early,” Mitch said. He must have had eyes in the back of his head.
    “Have you heard about the two murders?”
    He turned in his book-cramped office and