Marlow: Indigo Tide

By Bill Craig

Set in Key West, this new mystery series promises a can’t-put-down story of murder, mayhem, and duplicity. Rick Marlow is a broken former NYPD cop who had been shot by his partner during the discovery of a dead body in an alley. Half-dead and barely recovered Marlow moves south to Key West, figuring the end of the road might mean a new beginning. Then, hired to find a missing heiress by a Key West attorney, Marlow suddenly has purpose once more. The case takes him from Key West to Miami, where big bucks, blackmail and Cuban Intelligence agents all cross his path.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AbsolutelyAmazingEbooks.com
• Release date: Apr 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311906441

Bill Craig

Bill Craig taught himself to read at age four and began writing his own stories at age six. He published his first novel at age 40 and says it only took him 34 years to become an overnight success! He has been publishing steadily ever since that first book Valley of Death and now has 27 books in print or ebook. Bill is the proud father of four children ranging in age from 38 to almost 8. He has 7 grandchildren and 1 great grandchild. Mr. Craig has worked a wide variety of jobs over the years from private security and corrections work to being a grill cook and dishwasher. He has been a news reporter, done factory work and even a stint as a railroad clerk. He currently does customer service work to support his writing addiction. His ultimate goal in life is to break the record held by pulp author and creator of The Shadow, Walter B. Gibson, for writing the most works in a single year!

Book preview

Marlow:

Indigo Tide

A Key West Mystery

Bill Craig

ABSOLUTELY AMAZING eBOOKS

Published by Whiz Bang LLC, 926 Truman Avenue, Key West, Florida 33040, USA

Copyright © 2013 by Bill Craig.

Electronic compilation/print edition copyright © 2013 by Whiz Bang LLC.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized ebook editions.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. While the author has made every effort to provide accurate information at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their contents.

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To Mark Howell, friend, mentor and all around good guy! All the best, my friend!

Chapter One

Key West, Florida

Another morning waking up in paradise. His mouth tasted like the inside of an old shoe. Rick Marlow opened his eyes, squinting them against the bright glare of sunlight sneaking past the venetian blinds that hung in the window. He rolled to the side of the bed and grabbed for his cigarettes, knocking an empty beer bottle off the nightstand and on to the carpeted floor.

Rick shook the Marlboro free and stuck it between his lips, rolling it to the corner of his mouth with his tongue. He found the cheap Bic lighter and fired up his first smoke of the day. He sat there for a moment, knowing he looked every bit as bad as he felt. He slipped on his wristwatch. He had about half an hour before his meeting with Walter Loomis about the job. He was running out of money and the lawyer was willing to take a chance on him. Rick tapped off the ashes and spotted a partially empty beer bottle. He picked it up and drained it, swishing it around in his mouth to kill the taste before swallowing it. He took another long pull on the cigarette.

Marlow got up and walked to the bathroom and took care of business before starting the shower and letting the water warm up. He shaved quickly after dropping the cigarette butt into the toilet and then got into the shower and soaped up and rinsed.

Fifteen minutes later he was dressed in khaki cargo shorts and a guayabera shirt and a pair of topsiders and peddling the old single speed bicycle across town to the lawyer’s office. The wind blowing in his face was reviving him. Hopefully Loomis would have some coffee ready and he could get a cup before they started talking.

He was a long way from New York now and the stuff that had happened. Hopefully he was far enough away that he could finally forget it. Marlow stopped the bicycle and put it in the rack in front of the lawyer’s office. Taking a deep breath, Marlow headed up the steps.

Inside were dark wood paneled walls and long bookcases filled with legal texts. A prim older woman with her hair pinned up in a severe bun peered at him from behind dark-framed horn rim glasses with visible bifocals in the lenses. Marlow leaned on the counter. Rick Marlow for Walter Loomis, he told her. The nameplate of her desk read Lola Ponsberry.

Have a seat, I’ll let Mr. Loomis know you are here, Lola told him. She didn’t trust him, Rick could see it in her eyes. She picked up a telephone, touched a couple of buttons and spoke so softly he could barely hear her and then replaced the phone on the cradle. Marlow sighed, hoping this wasn’t all for nothing. He was getting down to the last of his cash and he needed work. Trouble was, the only thing he was really good at was investigating. That was why he had been a cop. Until one dark night in Brooklyn even that was taken away from him.

A heavy oak door opened and Walter Loomis stepped outside, his pale watery blue eyes scanning the room until they lit on Marlow, then his wide puffy face broke into a wide smile. He seriously reminded Marlow of Andy Griffith back when he was starring on Matlock, especially dressed in the white tropical weight suit and pale blue shirt with a slightly darker blue tie for contrast. Ricky my boy, so good of you to come in! Step into my office, Loomis invited, waving him inside.

The office itself was comfortable and intimate, giving him a better picture of the man that wanted to hire him. Pictures of Walter and his wife Delores sat on his desk and there were some of girls who had to be his daughters and then grandchildren.

There were numerous legal tomes in here as well but there were also novels by some well-known and a couple of lesser known mystery writers. Would you like some coffee? Walter asked.

Thanks, yes. Nice office you have, Marlow replied, his blue eyes still taking the room in. Rick felt scruffy and under-dressed to be honest. Loomis picked up his phone and spoke softly. Three minutes later Lola walked in carrying two cups of coffee and placed them on the desks. She added several small bags of artificial sweetener. She sniffed slightly and turned and swished out of the room. Loomis chuckled after the door closed.

So about this job? Marlow looked at him and added four packets to the coffee and stirred it in. He took a sip and felt the caffeine hit his system with a welcome jolt.

A client recently passed away and in his will he left everything to one of his granddaughters. Mary Colsom is her name. I do know she lives somewhere here in the Keys but not exactly where. The Estate will pay up to $500.00 dollars a day plus expenses to find Mary and bring her here, Loomis explained.

You know I’m not licensed as an investigator down here? Marlow looked at him.

Ricky, I have here a temporary license with me as your principal employer. As long as you work for me it is yours, until you prove yourself. Are you sufficiently recovered from that ordeal in New York?

I guess I have to be. So when do you want me to start?

How about right now. Here is a cashier’s check for $2500.00 dollars. Get what you need and here is a folder with all the information I have on the girl, Loomis removed a manila file folder and slid it across the top of the desk to him. Marlow opened the folder. On top was the license, waiting for his signature, below it an old color photo of the girl and a brief biography and her relationship to the deceased. Marlow looked up at Loomis.

Got a pen so I can sign this? Marlow asked.

Indeed, Ricky I do, Loomis slid the pen across the desk and Marlow signed the license, took the smaller id tag off and slid the rest of the blue index card back across to Loomis who made it quickly vanish into a drawer.

Thank you Walter. You don’t know how much this means, Marlow’s voice was barely above a whisper.

But I do, Ricky. Your Father Howard helped pull me back from the precipice right after the war. If not for his influence, I would have gone down a vastly different path that would have ended in my own destruction. Perhaps this is my way of repaying him for what he did for me, Loomis replied, his hands folded on his ample stomach.

Maybe, Rick nodded.

Do you want to talk about New York?

Mostly I want to forget about it and start over, Walter.

Given that you were nearly killed, I can understand that. But if you should, I can recommend someone.

I’ll think about it, Rick nodded.

Key West is where a lot of folks find fresh new starts, Ricky. Let me know when you have news and hang on to receipts for expenses. Lola is a bear about such things, Loomis chuckled.

I imagine she is. She didn’t appear to care too much for me when we first met.

Lola doesn’t like change at all. She didn’t feel it necessary to hire anyone to look for the girl other than putting ads in all the local papers. She comes from a Scottish background and loves nothing more than pinching pennies. But she has managed my business for years and I am very well off for it, Walter Loomis shrugged.

I guess she and I will have to get used to each other, Marlow nodded.

That you shall, Loomis agreed.

Is there any office space here that I can use for typing out reports and such? Marlow asked.

Yes there is a small office in the back. It even has its own exterior key. Just a moment, Loomis opened another drawer and removed a tagged key. He slid it across the desk and Rick picked it up, fingering it a moment before putting it in his pocket along side the neatly folded cashier’s check. He picked up the folder and stood, extending his hand. Walter Loomis took it and they shook on the deal.

I need to get a few things, but then I’ll be back in later this afternoon and get that office set up, Marlow told him.

I’ll have Lola air it out and stocked with the necessities which I suspect will also include a coffee maker and filters. You’ll probably have to provide your own brand of course. Also, there will be a new computer set up and ready for you. Do you have a cell phone? No, then go get one have it billed to me. I’ll call my provider and set it up. Laws will be the account password that will allow you access, Loomis told him.

Thank you, Walter. I’ll be back after while, Rick told him.

≈≈≈

Rick pedaled straight to the bank and deposited the check, keeping out about $300.00 in cash, and then he peddled back to his little three-room apartment. He looked at the folder with a mixture of anticipation and dread. Once he started to read it, he would be back on the job.

His mind rocketed back to that night in the alley in Brooklyn. The night he was almost killed by someone he trusted with his life. His hands started to shake. He fired up a cigarette and sat down. After a few puffs he calmed down. He tapped the ashes off into an empty beer bottle. He would need to clean the place up. But first things first. He reached over and picked up the folder and slowly opened it. First, he took out