Chapter Sixteen Confessions
Chapter Sixteen
Confessions
When Burton arrived at the hospital for the second time that day, Arlo was sitting in a hard plastic molded chair, staring out the window. He was muttering unintelligibly. Mikey appeared to be more lucid. He was complaining to his brother.
“I can’t hear what you’re saying. Stop talking to the window.”
Burton walked in. “Am I interrupting something?”
Mikey closed his eyes and let out a huge sigh. “Ask him.” Mikey jabbed his thumb in his brother’s direction. “I dunno what he’s talkin’ about.”
Burton closed the door behind him. “I am going to ask you a few questions. Both of you. I need you to be totally honest.”
Mikey blinked and gave a slight nod. Arlo wasn’t as eager, but Burton stood over him.
“Arlo, I want you to pull your chair over here.” He pointed to a spot next to Mikey’s bed. “We are going to have a heart-to-heart conversation. Am I clear?”
“Yeah. Crystal.” Arlo slumped farther into the chair.
He knew if he lied, it would eventually catch up with him, and he would be in worse shape.
He waited for Burton to take control of the conversation before he owned up to his offenses.
The assault on Crusty would surely land him in the slammer.
His life was already in the dumpster, but at least he’d get three square meals in jail.
Burton reached into his pocket, produced a photo, and handed it to Mikey. “Do you recognize this man?”
Mikey squinted and studied the printout. “My brother, Dennis? Or the guy who slammed me with a wrench.”
Burton got a surge of adrenaline. “This is the man who assaulted you?”
“Sure looks like him.” Mikey handed the photo back to the chief.
“What’s his name?” Burton asked.
“I dunno. He never said.” Mikey knew it sounded far-fetched. “All he said was that he paid Dennis fifty grand to do a job, but Dennis didn’t get around to it.”
“When was he in contact with you?” Burton asked.
“A coupla weeks ago. He said since Dennis didn’t make good, he figured I was next in line.”
“What kind of deal?” Burton pressed on.
“I told you. He was looking for some papers.”
“The map?” Burton asked, and glared at Arlo.
Mikey snorted. “Nah. Some kind of legal papers.”
“And he thought Dennis might have told you about the deal, and then you were supposed to take up the slack.”
“Yeah. That’s how it went down, but I didn’t know anything about their deal. The guy didn’t believe me.”
Burton turned to Arlo, who was squirming in his chair. “What do you know about all this?”
Arlo began to stutter. “I didn’t mean to hurt nobody. I panicked.”
“Wait. Back up,” Burton said. Things were coming to a head, and he wanted to get all the facts in chronological order. “Hurt who?”
“Crusty.” Arlo hung his head. “I went looking for the papers.”
Burton turned to Mikey. “So, you enlisted Arlo to help you find the papers.” It was a statement, not a question.
Mikey nodded weakly. “He was so hung up on that map.”
It was starting to come together. “What map?” Burton reckoned he knew the answer.
“The one from Kirby’s,” Arlo answered, his head hung low.
“Arlo, are you admitting to breaking into Kirby’s marina and stealing the map?” Burton asked firmly.
“Yeah. And Pauline’s.” Arlo was on the verge of tears. “When we tried to follow the map, we found a box with a note from Kirby.”
“A note from Kirby?” Burton asked drolly.
“Yeah.” Mikey verified what his brother said.
“You’re going to have to give me a few more details.” Burton pulled over another plastic chair and sat between the two brothers.
“Okay. So’s I get the map and show it to Mikey, but he didn’t believe it was real. Then I scoped out the area. I tell him I think it’s legit, so we made a bet.”
Arlo was back in true form of running at the mouth, which Burton appreciated. He didn’t have to draw it out of him.
Arlo continued, “I had to find a place where we could launch a skiff. So’s we follow the map, and it leads us smack in front of a bunch of reeds.
There was a rope tied to the reeds, and when we hauled it out of the water, it was attached to a waterproof box.
” Arlo’s spirit was spent. Deflated. “When we opened the box, there was a piece of paper that said, ‘If you found this, you are a thief …’”
Burton quietly laughed. It was just like Kirby to do something like that. With all the rumors and legends about a secret map, Kirby figured it was inevitable someone would try to steal it.
“Where’s the map now?” Burton asked.
“The original is in the shop,” Arlo said.
“And the frame?” Burton knew the answer but had to hear it from Arlo’s lips.
“I busted it.”
Arlo was incriminating himself more than he realized. Burton had to tread carefully. This so-called confession wouldn’t necessarily be admissible, although Burton was confident that Arlo would fess up to it again under formal conditions.
“Then when that dude was looking for whatever he was expectin’, I decided to help Mikey and see if I could come up with that paperwork he wanted.” Arlo paused for several long seconds. “I didn’t find no papers at Kirby’s, ’cause that wasn’t what I was lookin’ for.”
Burton nodded as he followed along.
“Anyways, we figured he’d-a left them in boxes at Pauline’s, where he used to live.”
“I see.” Burton was taking copious notes. “Then what about Crusty?”
“Since Pauline’s place was dead empty, I figured maybe Crusty had them.” Arlo took another few beats. “When I got to Crusty’s, he wasn’t there, so I went inside.”
“How did you get in?”
“Uh, well, there was a window open in the back.”
“Continue,” Burton urged.
“I was in the middle of looking through a box …”
Burton interrupted him. “Arlo, I think you should come down to the station and give me a full statement of what transpired.” He looked over at Mikey. “Do you happen to know what kind of car this man drives?”
“Something green. That’s what I saw when he pulled into the lot. Everythin’ after that is a blur.”
“Okay. You hang tight. I’ll be back later, and you can fill me in on this mystery guy.”
Burton gestured for Arlo to follow him. “We gotta get you cleaned up first.”
Burton stopped at the Farrells’ on the way to the station.
“Don’t try making a run for it,” Burton called out sardonically, as Arlo went back to the scene of the crime, and then to the back building. Arlo took a quick shower and pulled on a fresh pair of clothes, then shuffled back to where Burton was waiting. He was ready to face his fate.
In the summer, most magazine publishing companies have half-day Fridays or alternating Fridays off.
But with telecommuting, it was hard to know where anyone was.
And now that Madison was working most days from the shore, it was even more disorienting.
She was very disciplined about her work ethic.
She had a routine she followed every morning: coffee, stretching, shower, get dressed, light breakfast. Then down the hall to the office, go through emails, and work on projects.
It took a few weeks for her to adjust to a more laid-back lifestyle.
Her work was still stressful, especially when hearing the latest corporate news, but living in Smuggler’s Cove offered many more opportunities to relax outdoors without having to leave her building.
Madison had a deep appreciation for what she could view from her perch.
Whether she was inside looking out through one of the massive windows, or on a patio, she watched the Atlantic Ocean stroke the shoreline of Sandy Hook.
On light windy days, sailboats would convene in Horseshoe Cove, while dozens of kiteboarders skimmed the waters, their colorful sails creating a painting in motion.
Gray skies of passing storms provided a monochromatic moving picture.
She was looking forward to settling in for the next two years.
The only hiccup was money. Wasn’t that usually the case?
If the magazine “retired” her, she wouldn’t have an income.
They would give her a severance package, but only enough to get her through a year, at the most. Generous packages were no longer the norm.
At least not for her level of management.
Sure, the word chief was in her title, but there was a huge gap between her pay scale and the CEOs, CFOs, and COOs of La Femme.
They figured if they gave you the title, it would be enough.
Madison thought so in the beginning. But she soon discovered that the publisher wanted total editorial control, and it was getting political.
Inside the company and out. Especially now that a merger was in the offing.
Madison thought it was important to show her face in the office, regardless of who may or may not be there.
It was time to get the full-on “vibe” of the office.
She believed in the concept that everything has its own energy.
Plus, she could stop by her apartment and go through her wardrobe.
Maybe she’d find something perfect for her dinner with Viggo.
But before she planned the day ahead and her never-out-of-sight to-do list, she phoned Victor.
He answered with his usual droll indifference. “Yes, dear. What is it that you wish to discuss?”
“As if you didn’t know.” Madison had to believe that Victor saw the memo.
“Oh, that work of fiction?” he replied. “Or should we read between the lines?”
Madison cracked up. “Ha! That’s exactly what I said when I read it.”
“So what do you plan to do, dearie?”
“Nothing yet. But I am pondering my next moves,” Madison confessed.
“Such as?” Victor pressed her.
“Something creative is about all I figured out so far.”
Victor sighed. “I don’t know who is going to hire an old queen.”
“Are you referring to me or you?” Madison laughed out loud.
“That’s the spirit. Maybe you should go on America’s Got Talent and pretend you’re the next Lucille Ball,” Victor quipped.
“I’m way past doing pratfalls,” Madison said. “Unless you want to be my Ethel Mertz?”
“I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing those clothes,” Victor deadpanned.