The Dead Ride Free

THE DEAD RIDE FREE

By Stu Leventhal

(The Final Installment of the ‘High Sea’ Mystery Trilogy)

*A Detective Oaks Murder Mystery

~~~

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 by Stu Leventhal. All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

(Chapter One)

57 miles north of the Island of Zindy, Captain Salvator Stasuly stood on the fore deck of his steam freighter, The Lock Ness. He took a drag on a thin European cigar. It was a clear night. He stared up at the stars fantasizing about the old days when sailors only had the stars, the moon and the sun for navigation. When he was a boy, reading these same star patterns was the first thing his father had taught him, making sure that he understood thoroughly navigation by stars, before he let the young Sal take their little wooden dingy out into the bay alone.

Now, a sailor only had to read computer monitors, press buttons and turn dials. All the hard work and figuring was done by machines. The Captain gazed at the calm smooth ocean surface watching the moon light sparkle off the wave’s tips as if the ocean was trying to communicate with the sky by sending sparkling messages up to the beautiful stars. He wondered how many of his crew members could figure out the boat’s location if his vessel got caught in a severe storm which knocked out of commission all the electronic gadgets and meters. Some of the old salts could and maybe guide them to safety, but the young bucks, not a chance. Most of the young ones now a days, just hired on for a one way trip. On the run or lam from someone, hiding from the law or their pasts, they wanted a quick, cheap passage out of town. At sea, they’d work hard enough, if you had a good tough overseer on top of them constantly. But, as soon as the boat hit dock, they’d collect their pay and disappear, land lovers at heart. Then, you’d have to round up almost a whole new crew before you could shove off again. There seemed to be no such thing as a career sailor anymore.

In the old days Captain Stasuly would have known each of his crew members intimately; their family situations off ship, their hopes, fears and dreams. Now, he was ashamed to admit he didn’t even know all of their names. That’s what made it so hard for Captain Stasuly to come up with any theories, suspects or even speculate on who could have committed such a grisly crime as had recently occurred and just been discovered aboard his vessel. He tossed his cigar into the ocean then pounded on the ship’s rail with frustration.

This trip was to be Captain Stasuly’s last commercial voyage before his retirement at age 64. For weeks before the ship was scheduled to debark, Captain Stasuly had been having bad premonitions and creepy feelings about this trip. Most seamen are at least a little superstitious, but Captain Stasuly had never gone for that hocus pocus stuff. One night on shore about five days before the voyage was planned to begin, the Captain’s wife Helena had been awakened by her Husband’s flailing limbs. His head whipped side to side, his arms punched, slapped then pounded the bed. The head board banged the wall, while his feet kicked. Her scream woke him. He told Helena of the horrible nightmares he’d been having of his boat being caught in dense fog then they smash head long into another ship! Both boats go down before there is time to broadcast a distress signal. You’re just nervous, because this is your last trip Dear. His wife comforted him. It’s understandable. How about if I warm ya some milk and fetch ya a piece of Mango pie?

No, it’s more than that. I have a very odd feeling about this trip.

Now gripping the ship’s rail while staring out at the vast sea, he wondered. How can man be so cruel to his fellow man?

The trip started out as had a hundred other voyages, with an early morning shoving off to a beautiful sunny clear sky day. The men were in high spirits. They could be heard whistling and singing as they went about their chores.

A few hours later; Dark clouds began blowing in. The sky quickly turned black. As winds continued to pick up pace, the crew was ordered below deck. A lightning and thunderstorm engulfed the vessel bombarding the deck with alternating hard rain and hail. High waves rocked the boat continuously, ferociously crashing against the sides of the vessel. For four days the storm raged. Below deck the new men were plagued by sea sickness. It was the first real sign that this voyage would be anything but usual.

The Captain was relieved when the storm finally let up on Saturday the 11th. But, it was a bitter cold nineteen degrees. The crew was happy to be allowed on deck despite it meant they had a hard day’s work ahead of them, repairing the damage done by Mother Nature. Hail balls the size of baseballs had to be chipped then shoveled off the deck where they’d frozen in chunks too heavy and hard to be pushed by brooms. At dusk they came upon a wounded yet alive whale being attacked and eaten by a swarm of sharks. The eerie cries, shrieks and almost human like moans, sent chills up and down every man’s spine. The sounds kept the crew up half the night.

The next two days found the Lock Ness floating on a sea so calm it was tranquil. Any veteran of the sea will tell you; it is not during the storms or times of distress that the crew will get into the most mischief. But, during the boring calm when there is less work to do. Idle minds are the devil’s playground. There were a few minor flare ups among the men on the third calm day. Early, a shouting match between two burley sailors erupted but was quickly defused by the First Mate who happened upon the scene. Later, that afternoon, an argument started between two other guys. It ended with the guys rolling around on deck, wrestling, being spurred on by shouts and cheers of a large group of men watching and betting on the outcome of the fight. Both men were thrown in the brig as well as a third man for instigating the fight. Nothing else serious happened, certainly nothing to foretell the grisly sight that was found the next morning in the Engine Room.

At 5:35 am, the ship’s Third Mate, Antonio Duffy opened the hatch to the Engine Room, as it was his custom to check the gauge readings at least every three hours when the ship was running at above two thirds speed. The scene he found was gory. A seaman was lying face down on the floor in a puddle of blood, dead! The side of his head was split open above the left ear. Blood was splattered everywhere and stained everything. There were even some spots on the low ceiling. In the corner of the room lay a bloody pipe wrench, obviously the murder weapon.

Antonio being very careful as to where he stepped, circled around the victim. He was most anxious to know who the dead man was. But the right side of the face of the victim was hidden by his upper right arm and the left side was unrecognizable due to the damage done to it plus the blood caked all over. Antonio had seen enough television to know that it would be unwise of him to touch or move the body. Wondering who the unfortunate sailor was, Antonio back tracked back out of the room. He re-sealed the door then ran for help.

Antonio ran straight to the cabin of Rosco Fields, his Chief Executive Officer.

He pounded on the door. Chief wake up! Wake up!

The door opened. What?!..and this better be good!

Sir, someone’s been murdered!

What!?..Who’s been murdered!?

I couldn’t tell who he was Sir. There were chunks missing from his face, here and here... The Third Mate raised his finger pointing to his own cheek then forehead. It wasn’t a very pretty sight.

You’re serious!

I found him just lying there in the Engine Room. There’s blood all over. It’s disgusting.

Oh my! The Executive Officer stepped out of his cabin then closed the door behind him. We have to go find the Captain.

Together, without making a big commotion they searched the ship finally finding Captain Stasuly sitting in his Captain’s chair on the flying bridge reading over the charts and logs. Ernie Morce, the First Mate arrived as the two men were filling Stasuly in on the crime.

Go find the Ship’s Doctor. Captain Stasuly ordered the First Mate. And round up Garrettie. He’s supposed to be in charge of the Engine Room isn’t he?

Yes Sir.

And meet us down there. Oh…and everyone, keep your mouths shut about this. No one mentions anything to anyone until we know more, aye.

Ten minutes later, inside the Engine Room, the tubby, heavy bearded ship’s Doctor, Barnibus Rome was bent over examining the body. Out in the hall, the Captain, the First Mate, the Chief Executive Officer and the Head Mechanic waited anxiously, awaiting the Doc’s findings.

I’m telling you Captain, I was in this engine room myself at 3:05 am and there was no dead guy. Stocky Marvin Garrettie, the Head Mechanic opened the log book then handed it to the Captain then pointed to the page. I recorded these pressure readings in my log book. You see, I wrote the time down right next to this pressure reading and then I initialed it. M.G. for Marvin Garrettie"

And if Garrettie saw nothing... Ernie Morce, the tall First Mate explained. Then the murder must have occurred between 3:05 am, after Garrettie left and before 5:35 am when Antonio walked into the Engine Room and found the body.

Which certainly narrows down the time of the murder. Agreed Garrettie.

No, not so. We can’t assume anything yet. The Chief Executive Officer interjected twisting the waxed end of his moustache. He could have been killed someplace else, hours before then dragged to and dumped in the Engine Room between 3:05 and 5:35 am.

No, if you saw the room... Antonio Duffy had a pained expression on his face as he paced back and forth in the