Marlow: Dark Waters

By Bill Craig

When Vern Brisbane is murdered after docking his shrimp boat, the Key West Police think it was a random killing. But Brisbane’s daughter Lilly disagrees. She hires Rick Marlow to look into the shrimper’s death and what he finds is a smuggling operation that is using shrimp boats to smuggle in both drugs and people. Not knowing who he can trust, Marlow must navigate the Dark Waters to get the man behind it all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AbsolutelyAmazingEbooks.com
• Release date: Dec 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311455598

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:

DARK

WATERS

BILL CRAIG

ABSOLUTELY AMAZING eBOOKS

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

Marlow: Dark Waters copyright © 2015 by Bill Craig. Electronic compilation/ paperback edition copyright © 2015 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. How the ebook displays on a given reader is beyond the publisher’s control.

For information contact:

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Special thanks to Roberta DePiero for the background photo of the shrimp boat. For Judy Bullard for creating such beautiful covers. Also for all of Marlow’s fans!

Chapter One

Stock Island, Florida.

Vern Brisbane frowned as his boat approached the docks. They had been out for three days and had finally netted a pretty good catch. The odds were good that they might clear fifteen hundred bucks on this catch. That would give him money to pay his crew and pay back the loan he had gotten from Marko Fuentes, and he had been able to do it without picking up a load of drugs for the Cuban crime boss. He felt good about that. Still, he could see Raul Garcia on the dock, waiting.

Vern motioned to his men to get them ready to tie off the lines. Eddie Paco, a buyer, was standing on the dock waiting too. He was closer than Garcia, which Vern took as a plus. He had the impression that Garcia had arrived after Eddie. That was in itself good news for Vern.

It meant that they had gotten back earlier than Fuentes had expected. Vern allowed himself a small smile at that thought. Fuentes had been putting a lot of pressure on the independent shrimpers to start hauling drugs for him. Some had given in, but Vern was a true island born Conch and had not. He maintained his stubborn independence despite the threats that Fuentes had made. He told himself that he was doing it for his daughter, Lilly. In truth, it was because he refused to knuckle under to Fuentes and his gang.

Vern docked the boat and shut down the engines. His men were making the lines fast as he left the bridge and stepped down off the boat onto the docks. Eddie was right there to greet him and make a deal. Shrimp had been scarce since the BP oil spill in the gulf. And Vern had come back in ahead of the other boats by a full day. He took Eddie aboard and let him take a look at their catch, smiling as the eyes of the buyer nearly popped out of his head. Eddie wrote him out a check for three thousand dollars and handed it to him.

Thanks, Eddie, Vern told him as Eddie waved his trucks forward. Vern’s crew would see to off-loading the shrimp onto the trucks. Vern passed Garcia and headed for his battered old pick-up truck. It didn’t take long to cross the bridge into Key West proper. He went straight to the bank and deposited the check. Then he headed for Captain Tony’s to get a drink. For once he felt he could afford the luxury of it. His men would take care of the catch. Right now, Vern just wanted to celebrate his independence.

~ ~ ~

It was dark before he headed back to the docks. He drove slowly on the way back, not wanting to get popped by the cops. Lilly would kill him if he got arrested on his way back to the docks. The sun had set and the night shadows were gathering as he walked back towards Lilly’s Dream. He had named the boat after his daughter. The docks were empty as he approached the boat.

A shape stepped from the shadows. Vern Brisbane? a soft voice asked.

Who wants to know? Vern growled as his fists balled into hard bunches of bone and grit.

You should have taken the deal, the voice replied. There were two quiet flashes in the darkness and Vern Brisbane fell to the dock, blood flowering out from the two holes in his chest. The shadowy form walked down the dock and vanished into the night…

~ ~ ~

Rick Marlow looked at the sandwich in front of him. He was thin with the rangy build of a runner, but wiry with a strength that was not readily apparent in his looks. His close-cropped brown hair was sun-streaked with blond, bleached by the tropical sun. All of the detectives in the books he read seemed to be gourmet cooks. Yet he was a fast-food type of guy. Give him a burger and fries or pizza and he was fine with that. Not that he couldn’t cook, he just didn’t like too.

It was a warm spring day and he was sitting on the wrap around front porch that was built around the house that housed Walter Loomis’ law practice as well as Marlow’s private investigation agency. Technically he worked for Walter but he was free to take cases if he wanted. Marlow attacked the large cheeseburger with bacon and onions with French fries that Lola had picked up for him. He had a bottle of Killian’s Red on the TV tray next to his sandwich to wash it down with. A car pulled up in front of the house and a young woman stepped out. She was tall and slender, with long red hair and a large flower entwined in it. Her eyes were captivating and he put the sandwich down.

Are you Marlow? she asked.

I am, he admitted.

My name is Lilly Brisbane and I want to hire you to find out who murdered my father.

Are you sure it was murder? he asked.

He was gunned down on the docks.

What do the police think?

They are calling it a random mugging.

But you don’t think so?

No I don’t. Dad was getting pressured to start running drugs for Marko Fuentes.

Did you tell the police?

They said it was hearsay, that I couldn’t prove it.

Wow.

Yeah, you could say that, Lilly spat into the grass.

You don’t believe them?

No, I don’t. Dad had just deposited a check for $3000 dollars for his haul. He had a loan with Fuentes, but it was for $500 bucks. His catch would have paid it off, Lilly shook her head.

I get $200 a day plus expenses, Marlow looked at her.

Here’s a thousand dollars. That should buy five days.

It will, Marlow nodded.

Find out who murdered my father, Mr. Marlow.

I’ll do my best, Marlow told her, meaning it.

Marlow finished off his sandwich and fries and went into his office. He filled out a deposit slip for the check so he could take it to the bank later. That done he walked down the hall to the conference room that Walter Loomis worked out of. Walter sat behind the wide maple table stacked with folders on each side of him. Today the white haired attorney was dressed in a mint green tropical weight suit over a white shirt with a mint green tie. His watery blue eyes looked up as Marlow entered.

Ricky, what is on your mind? Walter asked.

Got a new client. Open murder case, though from what the client said, they are treating it as a random mugging to close it quick, Marlow replied.

Who is the client?

Lilly Brisbane.

An old Conch family. Her father is Vern, a shrimper.

Right. Apparently he was shot and killed last night on the docks after depositing a check for $3,000, Marlow said.

Good haul then, Walter noted.

Apparently. I don’t know much about shrimping.

Does she suspect someone in particular?

She mentioned a Marko Fuentes.

Go talk to your friend Gutierrez. He can tell you what you need about Mr. Fuentes.

You know him, Marlow said. It wasn’t a question.

I know of him, Walter corrected. But the Chief would know far more than I.

But you have been here longer than the Chief.

I know rumor, he knows fact.

Okay for now, but after I talk to him, I will have questions for you, Marlow sighed, knowing he would get nothing more from his employer for the moment.

Marlow grabbed his sunglasses and his .38 from his office along with the check and deposit slip before going outside and unlocking his vintage Huffy ten-speed bicycle that he used for transportation when he was working on the island. He had recently acquired a red 2001 Ford Focus for when his cases took him farther north than Stock Island.

His bank was located in Old Town and he decided to swing into Pepe’s and say hi to his girlfriend, Tina Cord. He knew she was working the dayshift today and it was getting close to the end of her shift. Ten minutes in the bank and then off to Pepe’s. He chained his bike to one of the rails outside and was thrilled to step into the cooler air inside the combination restaurant and bar.

Tina was already off work and sitting at a table talking with Jessica Harmon, the shrink that was helping her deal with her post-traumatic stress. Both were sharing a beer so Marlow stopped and grabbed one for himself from the bar before walking over and sliding into the seat next to Tina. Hi there beautiful, He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Hello yourself, big guy, Tina smiled, scooting over to give him room.

Should I leave now? Jessica Harmon raised an eyebrow.

Not at all, Jess. I actually want to ask your opinion on something, Marlow told her.

Does it involve me getting shot at?

No, at least it shouldn’t.

Hear him out, Jess, Tina shook her head, grinning.

I dunno. Remember the trouble I got into the last time I agreed to help him with something?

Yes, you became my therapist.

Oh, yeah. Okay, Marlow, what do you want?

You two ever think of taking this act on the road?

Nope! the two women replied in unison. Marlow shook his head.

Anyway, do you know anything about the Shrimpers over on Stock Island? Marlow asked.

I know some of the families. Some have been patients, Jessica replied.

Do you know Vern or Lilly Brisbane?

I do, which means this conversation has to end now, Rick.

I just want your opinion, no confidential information.

I’m not sure I want to hear the question, Jessica drained her beer.

Is Lilly the sort to make things up?

What kind of things?

Her father was the guy shot and killed on the docks last night. The cops are calling it a random mugging, but she thinks it was murder. Said he was being threatened by a local gangster, a guy named Fuentes, Marlow explained.

Oh my God. No, Rick, Lilly wouldn’t make that up, Jessica shook her head. Excuse me guys, but I need to go, Jessica stood and headed for the door, a worried expression on her face.

You do buzz-kill better than anyone I have ever seen, Tina shook her head, and then took a long pull on her beer.

I didn’t plan it that way. How are you doing today?

It was a good day. No breakdowns, no cases of the shakes. No nightmares last night. I call that a good day, Tina replied.

"I would too. I’ve got to go over to the police station and