CONVERSATIONS

Chapter 10

Horatio went home early. He knew his general weariness was affecting his concentration and judgement, and it was too big a case to take risks with. A shower, a decent meal – rather than snacking as he had done the night before – and bed. Get his head straight for the following day…

He was surprised when Cecile rang. She never rang him, and they had spoken only the day before. She sounded excited.

"I had to tell you," she said. "They say I can have Sébastien tomorrow."

"Wow, that's quick."

"They say he's very unsettled at being in a kennel – it's doing him more harm than good. Provided I keep him quiet, while his leg heals, and take him back later to be neutered… they think he'll be better with me. It's wonderful, isn't it?"

He smiled. "Yes, it is. You're still calling him Sébastien then? Can I call him Seb?"

"If you have to. Will you come and see him?"

"I expect so. Might not be tomorrow… Big case going on."

"When you can. What are you doing?"

"Nothing. I came home early…" He realised how unusual that sounded.

"Oh, my dear… Aren't you well?"

"I'm well enough. I'm very tired, that's all. I did start at about five-thirty this morning."

"Ah well… I just wanted to tell you. I'll let you rest. Call me when you have time."

With his suspects safely in jail, Horatio deliberately slowed things down. He was as sure as he could be that the 38 had been fired by Scarface. Meanwhile, his team found blood spatter on a tee shirt belonging to Big Guy; blood that belonged to one of the victims.

He also knew now that the hundred dollar bills were counterfeit. Counterfeit hundreds rang an unwelcome bell with him. Over a year before, Miami had had an influx of them, in a case that had seen him held hostage while the mastermind behind it had made a getaway. It was a case that had never been satisfactorily closed. He wondered if these bills matched ones from that case. He'd check, when he had time…

With some reluctance, he recalled the three suspects from jail. Reluctant, because the evidence wasn't that solid. Reluctant, because his gut feeling about what had happened wasn't enough. Reluctant, because, in his mind, he kept thinking he was dealing with a shooting, even though the boys had drowned.

He tackled Scarface first. He decided to play it straight.

"We found your drugs, and your money – counterfeit money…"

The man shrugged. "You can prove it's mine?"

"I can prove it's your boat… And hidden compartments are illegal. That's good enough for me."

"So? A few years… no problem."

"We also found your gun, and we know you were the one who last fired it… And we found one of your bullets in a young man's shoulder."

The man was too experienced to challenge him. "We were shooting at sharks. There was an argument and someone got in the way - it wasn't a serious wound."

"So you're admitting wounding…"

Scarface shrugged again. "I might be. As I said – few years…"

Horatio got no further, as Frank tapped on the window and beckoned him out. He didn't like being interrupted when interviewing, and he knew it showed in his face.

"I hope it's important, Frank…"

"The skinny kid wants to talk to you."

"Really? Well, I guess that's good, because I'm getting precious little out of this one."

"Thought it'd make you happy. He's ready to roll on them. Doesn't relish the thought of the death penalty."

Horatio gave a mirthless chuckle. "If he knew how far I was from getting anywhere near that…" He squared his shoulders. "All right, Francis – take Scarface back, and wheel in Skinny."

Skinny came in with his lawyer, who immediately came to the point. "If my client helps you, he wants charges against himself dropped."

"I expect he does," Horatio retorted. "Rather depends what he gives me."

"Everything that happened on the boat."

"Go on…"

The lawyer nodded to Skinny, who started to speak, his voice shaking with nerves. "I had nothing to do with it."

"Convince me."

"We had the three men on the boat because… they wanted to buy drugs…"

"Buy drugs? Or deal drugs?"

"Deal. They were trying to buy… large quantities… to deal."

"How did you get them to the boat? Offer to deal?"

The young man nodded. "Ruiz wanted them… sorted out. All dealing around the beach goes through him. He… discourages punks like them."

"Discourages… How?"

He looked at his lawyer, who nodded. "Put bullets in their arms – not serious – just flesh wounds…"

Horatio managed to keep his face expressionless. "So tell me how this works? One of you holds them? And…"

"And Ruiz shoots them."

"And you chuck them overboard…"

"No! It went wrong! When it's happened before… we gave them a bandage and took them back."

Horatio decided to let the 'before' pass. For now. "So what happened this time?"

"The last one… the mouthy guy… he attacked Ruiz. They struggled… They both went over the side. We got Ruiz out, but the other guy…"

"You left him to drown."

"There were sharks in the water."

"On board too," Horatio said mildly. "So you threw the other two in?"

"Ruiz did. He was mad. He said… if one was dead, the others had to go also. That no one would find them. The sharks would get them."

"And where were you when this little massacre was going on?"

"Watching."

"Just watching?"

"Well, I helped get Ruiz. Drugs are one thing… but murder… I didn't sign up for that."

The lawyer chipped in. "Is that enough, Lieutenant?"

Horatio motioned him to silence. "What about the counterfeit cash?"

He believed Skinny's mystified expression was genuine. He sat back. "All right. You write it all down, and I'll talk to the State's Attorney. You'll have to testify."

The lawyer said quickly. "Will you recommend bail?"

"If you want me to. You know, your client might be safer with us…"

Horatio knew he had enough to take the case forward. He wasn't particularly happy. He felt unfocussed, and he knew he was interviewing badly. The case felt untidy and unfinished. He was also conscious that, without Skinny's intervention, he might well have nothing. And, out on the streets, the chances of Skinny actually making it to testify were slim. But, his team had done their jobs well, so he assumed it was his own performance that grated on him.

However, his people were happy. Solving a case was solving a case, however it came about.

"Drink tonight, H?" Walter asked. "Celebrate?"

"Yes, okay." They deserved the celebration, even if he didn't feel like it.

"You will come?"

"I will."

He was in his office, when Cecile called. Again. Sébastien…

He chuckled. "Have you got him?"

"Yes. He seems very happy."

"He would be. Away from the kennels, a comfortable home… It might be years since he's had anyone to care for him. How's his leg?"

"He hops around on it. They say to keep him quiet, but…"

"Difficult?"

"Yes. He's very... energetic." She hesitated. "Horatio, will you be able to come round?"

"Cecile, I can't. I'm sorry, but…"

"It doesn't matter. I just wanted you to see him."

"My team asked me to join them – they're celebrating winding up a case… I said I would…"

"Of course, I understand." She sounded disappointed.

Horatio thought quickly. "Would you like to meet them?"

"Your team? Oh Horatio, I don't know."

"They're not that intimidating. Not off-duty, anyway… Actually, they're a laugh. And you and I have talked about them a lot. Wouldn't you like to put faces to the names?"

"Who'll be there?"

"Eric, Calleigh… Walter, Ryan… Not sure if Natalia's coming – I think she's got something else on… Frank, I think."

"Frank? You haven't mentioned him."

"He's not really part of the team. He's my detective, and my friend. Six foot four. Texan."

She chuckled. "You know how to put a girl off."

"Nah… he's a good guy. Come on, I'll pick you up."

"How will you introduce me?"

"A friend?"

She hesitated. "All right, if I can bring Sebby."

THE END (For now…)