The Corpse Without a Country

Louis Trimble

• Publisher: Prologue Books
• Year: 2012
• ISBN:
  9781440542282
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Crime & Mystery Literature
• Index: Literature

The first time insurance claims investigator Peter Durham's friend Arne Rasmussen had a fire on one of his ships, Peter treated it as a routine accident. The second fire he called bad luck. But when the third fire broke out, Peter knew there was no jinx, but just a very clever arsonist.Every case has its angles, but Peter found them going in all directions this time: a man almost beaten to death, a beautiful femme fatale, a strong silent Oriental, a tough Beat Generation poet, and $600, 000 in foreign currency.But all these mysterious elements were nothing compared to the puzzle of what to do with a beautiful young lady who turned into an international incident when she became The Corpse Without a Country.

XV

I SAID, “TODAY JODI RASMUSSEN and I ran across some correspondence between Reese Fuller and the Zwahili government.”

The boss had a sure memory for his own business. He said, “Sure. Two years ago we wrote a special policy for Fuller and Rasmussen when they did that salvage job for Southeast Africa.”

I said, “And Fuller got paid off in Zwahili pounds?”

“What else?” the boss demanded. “Are you trying to tie Fuller into that robbery?”

I said, “I could answer that better after an interview with the blonde and her mustard-colored boy friend.” I reminded myself of something and reached for the telephone.

I called Maslin. He answered from his office. I identified myself. “Any luck on Emily Calvin?”

He sounded tired. “No, nor on her boy friend. Maybe they went on a honeymoon.”

“It’s more likely that he’s burying her somewhere,” I said. “What about Ilona and Ghatt?”

“Oh, them,” Maslin said, and I could have sworn I heard a faint undercurrent of amusement in his voice. “They’re registered aliens, so we have the information we need in our files. What do you want to know?”

“Know?” I yelled. “I want them picked up and held, damn it. I want to prefer charges of breaking and entering, assault, and maybe murder.”

Maslin said as if it didn’t matter, “We haven’t got them. We don’t know where they are.”

I wondered if he was paying me back for having held out on him. That would have been a dirty trick in my opinion. I said, “Well, what do you know? Who are they? Where are they from?”

He said in a jazzed-up British accent, “The lady is from Denmark and now a citizen of England. She’s a free-lance journalist, here living it up in the water wonderland of the Pacific Northwest. Ghatt is an East Indian by descent, but he comes from a place called Zwahili in Southeast Africa.”

I could feel my hand squeeze down on the phone. I almost started talking about the robbery of the African pounds, and then I realized that if I did, I’d have to bring in the notes I found in Arne’s desk and maybe bring in Reese and even Jodi. I wasn’t ready to do any of those yet.

I said, “When you find them, ask them if they killed Fenney,” and hung up.

He hung up. I looked sourly at the boss. I said, “Something smells at Maslin’s end now. He doesn’t give a damn whether he finds that pair or not. And after what they did to my clothes!”

The boss wasn’t interested in Maslin. He was back before my phone call. “Take it easy on Fuller. He and Arne have a lot of weight to throw around. If you’re reaching on this one and you miss …”

I said stubbornly, “I still think I have something. Look, Maslin just told me that the blonde is from England and Ghatt is from Zwahili. Fuller was in England at the time of the robbery. He had Zwahili pounds to play with….”

The boss said, “Your job is investigating those fires. Have you tied them into this ‘hate Fuller campaign?”

I said, “No, I haven’t tied them together. But I’m working on it. And if I were you, I’d put an extra guard around Tom until this is over. If I’m right, nobody is playing for dimes, and if anyone gets the idea Tom might come out of his coma and talk …”

He didn’t argue about that. Whether I was right or wrong made no difference. If there was a chance Tom could be hurt further, he wanted to guard against it. I went to the door.

I said, “You’d better hire yourself a new girl. I don’t think Emily is coming back. And this time get a good-looking one.”

He sneered. I went through the door. Jodi was waiting for me, the report in her hand. She said, “There’s just nothing in this that would account for Ilona’s actions, Peter.”

I said, “I’m reading it in my office right now. Then if she wants to chase me for it, she can.”

We went into my cubbyhole. With Jodi breathing softly in my ear, I opened the report and started wading through Tom Harbin’s thoroughness.

He hadn’t missed a bet, and he used three sentences to describe what three words could have. But I had to admit he was becoming a fine investigator.

The first report dealt with the fire on Arne’s boat, the Queen. There was a description of the damage, a resume of eye-witness accounts of the fire itself, statements from Arne and each of the crew members and, in summation, Tom’s own tentative conclusions. They boiled down to “accidental.”

The second report was the same except that the concluding statement had a string of question marks after it.

The third report was incomplete. It began with a brief summary of the previous fires and then detailed his plan of operation. By this time he had obviously become suspicious. I read, “A thorough investigation of the area around Boundary Island is obviously called for. I plan to make an immediate trip there. I also plan to question each crew member of the Flyer and requesition the crew members of the other boats upon my return.”

Only he hadn’t yet returned.

I wondered what could have been the taped message Emily had accidentally destroyed. I also wondered if its destruction had been “accidental.” Somehow, after my trip to the Pad, I didn’t think so.

I closed the report, snapped off the light, and led Jodi out. She said, “You see, Peter, there’s just nothing there.”

I said, “There’s this much. By reading the report, Emily could know Tom was going to Boundary Island. She also knew when he intended to go. I think she passed on the information and someone went up and laid for Tom.”

Jodi nodded a little excitedly. “And you did see Ilona in that area.”

I said, “And I saw Mike Fenney and you and Reese, too. Of the bunch, I’ll take Reese Fuller.”

“Peter!”

I led her into the elevator. “Arne hired Fenney to snoop for him. And Fenney was around the island when Tom got hurt. The next thing, Fenney gets killed. I think he was killed because he saw what happened to Tom, and who did it. I think he saw Reese and later tried to blackmail him.”

When we were on the street, Jodi said, “Are you sure you aren’t letting your dislike of Reese affect your thinking?”

I wasn’t sure. I said, “The best way to answer that is to try to find out how close to right I am.”

We got in her car and started for Arne’s boat works. On the way, I gave her a resume of my talks with the boss and Maslin.

She said, “Did you tell anyone about the Zwahili money Arne has?”

“Not yet,” I said.

She gave me a quick, grateful glance. Then she began to fret about Maslin not having picked up Ilona and Ghatt. The way she went on gave me the idea she was afraid of them on my account. It gave me a warm feeling.

When we reached the boat yard, we went to the Queen and started in on Arne’s peculiarly filed records. Jodi took time off to fix something to eat in the galley. I worried my way down through piles of apparently unrelated papers, and I was starting to find what I wanted when she came in with sandwiches and coffee.

She said, “I’ve been thinking, Peter. Why didn’t you tell Mr. Harbin or Maslin about the money in Arne’s desk?”

I said, “Arne’s my friend, and he’s your father. Those aren’t the best reasons, but they’ll have to do for now. And if you want a really good reason, I just haven’t figured out how Arne is involved.”

She was quick, “But you think he is?”

I could only say, “Honey, I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

Silently, Jodi handed me a sandwich and coffee. I let them sit while I made a pile of papers of what I thought I wanted.

She said, “You’ve found something?” in a dead tone.

I put the papers to one side. I began to eat. “I’ve drawn out the records of the movements of all his boats for the past few months.”

She sat cross-legged on the floor so that her skirt ran up her thighs. I concentrated on my sandwich. She had terrific legs. She said, “What’s the point of that?”

I said, “I think Reese is up to his neck in the mess somewhere, and I can’t see how he could do anything without Arne’s co-operation.”

The stricken look on her face made me feel as if I were twisting a knife in her breast. I said, “This is my idea, it could be a wild …” I stopped and started over. “It could be a wild stab in the dark, but I don’t think so.”

Jodi nibbled the edge of her sandwich. I said, “Let’s assume that Reese was mixed up in the theft of those bank notes. I have to assume that, otherwise his being in London on a Job for the Southeast African government at just the time the theft...