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    Janus Death in Deep Waters
    Janus Death in Deep Waters
    Janus Death in Deep Waters
    Ebook82 pages1 hour

    Janus Death in Deep Waters

    By J.D. Blair

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    About this ebook

    Janus Payette's transformation from homeless ex-cop to recovering alcoholic to private detective is complete. He has escaped from some bad memories and difficult connections in San Francisco and has landed in Morro Bay. His escape works until his past catches up to him in the form of request from a powerful politico who keeps him on a retainer. Janus considers it a short leash. Janus is asked to take on a case involving commercial fishing, drugs and gun running. He is obviously hesitant but is wined and dined by a powerful Portuguese fisherman and his family. Janus decides to take the case and is introduced to the violent acts of piracy when he is shown first hand what happens at sea when the pirates meet resistance from the fishermen. Death results and trawlers are sunk, beached or burned. This leads Janus off into a world with connections to Mexican drug cartels and right wing militias. His investigation leads him from Morro Bay to Santa Barbara to Catalina and several points up and down the coast. He is held captive inland by a group targeting the takeover of the government. With the help of a close friend in state narcotics he is freed. Janus tracks down the drug lord in charge of the operation and kills him. Case closed? Probably but new and old connections were waiting for him in San Francisco and he isn't sure he is ready for any of them. For him everything in that town has something rotten tied to it.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateOct 1, 2017
    ISBN9781543914559
    Janus Death in Deep Waters

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      Book preview

      Janus Death in Deep Waters - J.D. Blair

      Nineteen

      CHAPTER ONE

      Schooner’s bar was quiet on Sunday afternoon and I was commiserating with a tumbler of Bombay Gin, two olives. Gulls on the pier were playing catch with fish guts and the horizon off the coast of Cayucos was unusually clear. It was perfect then my past caught up to me.

      Are you Janus Payette?

      I am.

      Do you have a moment?

      I do.

      My name is Cristiano Soars. I represent Benedito Rosa, he’s influential in the pacific coast fishing industry and is a close associate of Gianni Mattioli.

      Jesus Christ.

      I beg your pardon?

      Nothing, go ahead.

      I believe you’re acquainted with Mr. Mattioli.

      I am.

      He suggested you meet with Mr. Rosa concerning an issue of grave importance.

      What would that be?

      Gun running and drugs.

      Gun running and drugs. What do they have to do with fish?

      I think Mr. Rosa can best explain it. Can you meet with him this evening over dinner, say seven thirty?

      Where?

      His ranch, Old Atascadero Highway, you’ll see the sign.

      Got it, Mister….

      Soars.

      In misguided belief I thought Morro Bay would be far enough to give me breathing space away from San Francisco and Mattioli’s influence. I was wrong. I misjudged his reach. Why was I running from him, the man saved my life more than once? Because I felt like he was living my life and I wanted it back. I had no plan, no target except the one that gets all the crap out of my head. I guess disappearing is the plan. I’m consumed by fog in Morro Bay; it is the one remnant of my time in the city that offers any solace. This was familiar ground for me being in between, out and in, involved and lost.

      I have taken refuge aboard a leaky houseboat on the leeward edge of the Morro Bay marina where the inlet seeps into a boggy marshland and the breeze carries a strong hint of eucalyptus. It’s a perfect spot for this particular craft. If it sank it would hit mud within inches. It’s just me, Hamlet the cat and a dachshund named Toulouse.

      As I put down food for dog and cat I tried to wrap my mind around what the connection was between guns, drugs and fish. I figured if Mattioli had his hands in it the problem had some teeth and if Rosa were to be my tutor he would put me in a mariner’s state of mind.

      The road to Rosa’s ranch skirted the bay waterfront where Egrets waded the shallows fishing for fingerlings and Curlew and Plovers scavenged the mud flats. The road cut inland past Morro Bay and the landscape changed quickly from seashore to farmland. Avocado, artichoke and strawberry fields flanked the road and blanketed the steep hillsides; a wooden sign pointed me to a dirt road and the entrance to the Rosa ranch. Cattle grazed over rock-strewn meadows and a sharp right turn put me at Rosa’s front door. The façade of the house was lit up by the sunset.

      As I stepped from my jeep the front screen door creaked open and Rosa held it.

      Payette, welcome.

      Evening.

      He continued to hold the door and when I reached him he wrapped a beefy arm around my shoulder and walked me into a spacious living room. The motif was late 1930’s ranchero. Once the screen door closed people started coming out of the woodwork, two sons, Gil and Emilio, a trio of nieces Antonia, Josefa and Tatiana, then his wife Gabriela came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of cold cuts and a pitcher of Sangria. After introductions Rosa excused the women and he and the boys sat me down.

      Gianni tells me you are a good investigator.

      I am a private detective so yes, I investigate.

      What do you investigate?

      Everything, anything.

      Fishing?

      No, I haven’t done fishing.

      So you haven’t investigated everything.

      Mr. Rosa…

      Benedito

      Benedito, I’m not sure what Gianni told you about me but for some reason he believes I might help you. Tell me what you need.

      Gil piped up, We need to find out whose hi-jacking our fishing boats and forcing them to haul drugs and run illegal weapons.

      Benedito took a sip of the wine, Gianni said you know about drugs.

      I used to be a narcotics detective in San Francisco.

      It was Emilio’s turn, So you have contacts in the drug trade.

      Some.

      What about gun running?

      This give and take was starting to bore me. Look, guys, tell me exactly what is happening and when I know what’s involved, I’m either right for it or I’m not.

      Benedito lit a cigar and looked at his sons then at me, his dark eyes burrowing deep into mine. Boys, tell Mr. Payette our story.

      Over a dinner of Portuguese beef stew, rice pudding and the strongest coffee I’ve ever had the Rosa boys gave me the basics of their problem. It wasn’t just the local coast that was being hit, the entire Pacific coast fishing industry was apparently being targeted by a gang of pirates who are systematically hijacking private fishermen and threatening them with ruination, bodily harm or worse if they didn’t allow shipments of drugs and weapons to be stashed in their holds. Some fishermen have been scared out of business. Others are afraid to work certain areas of coastal waters where boats have been hit. Money is being lost and economies

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