‘But what?’ Laura asked, speaking more to herself than Graham.
‘No idea,’ the big man replied. ‘David then takes a walk around the block. He may have even gone into the Peterson Building where you were having your meeting. Then he comes back to the hotel and places a couple of calls to the United States. Who did he call? I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t get through and decided to call later. He takes another walk around for a couple of hours. We have a witness who saw him standing by the beach at the Marlin Jetty at approximately eleven thirty at night. From here, we have a blank space. The next time anyone saw him, he was dead. Your banker friend Corsel claims to have heard from him at midnight. Could be. Or could be David was already dead by then and the caller disguised his voice.’
Laura fidgeted in her seat. ‘That no longer seems very likely, does it, Graham?’
Graham shook his head. ‘Possible, yes. Likely, no. I think David came back to the hotel and placed a call to the bank. Why? I don’t know. I think it had something to do with whomever he met in the Pacific International. Anyway, we’ll know where David placed his calls for sure once Gina finds those phone bills. Also, we’ll have to question the night porter and maybe the receptionist at the Peterson Building. They may also have seen David. This is just the beginning, Laura. A full investigation is not made in a single day.’
‘So, what’s next?’
Graham shrugged. ‘How long are you planning on staying?’
‘I have to leave tomorrow night. There’s a ceremony being given in David’s memory in Boston on Saturday.’
‘Okay, no worries. What we have to do next is fill in those important gaps. We have to find out who David visited when he got to the Pacific International.’
‘That’s the real key, isn’t it?’ Laura asked. ‘The identity of the mystery caller.’
‘Sure seems that way to me,’ Graham agreed.
‘And what about this coroner?’
Graham checked his watch. ‘Too late to call Dr Bivelli now. We’ll reach him first thing in the morning.’
Laura swallowed and lowered her eyes. ‘Graham, what do you think happened to my husband?’
Graham placed a large hand on her shoulder. ‘I don’t know, luv, but we’ll find out.’
‘Now?’ Mark asked.
T.C. glanced at the clock behind Mark’s head. ‘Now.’
With a sigh, T.C. stood and walked over to the telephone. He dialed thirteen numbers and waited for the call to connect.
Mark began to pace. ‘She’s never going to buy that Baskin drowned anymore.’
‘I know,’ T.C. said. ‘I’m working on it.’
After three rings the phone was picked up and an accented voice said, ‘Bivelli residence.’
‘Can I speak to Doctor Bivelli, please?’
‘May I ask who’s calling?’
‘My name is Terry Conroy.’
‘Hold on a moment, Mr Conroy.’
A few seconds later, Dr Bivelli picked up the phone. ‘T.C.?’
‘Yeah, Aaron, how’s it going?’
‘Not bad, mate. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.’
‘Yeah, well, things have come up.’
‘What sort of things?’
‘I need another favor.’
‘You know I don’t do favors,’ Bivelli said. ‘Stu told you that before you ever contacted me.’
‘I know, Aaron. You’re a true mercenary. But I’ve already paid you for this job.’
‘You mean the Baskin drowning?’
‘Bingo.’
‘I thought everything went smooth as silk.’
‘It did,’ T.C. said. ‘But now we’ve run into a minor obstacle. I just wanted to let you know that some people may come around asking questions.’
‘After all this time?’
‘Yep.’
‘Well, that’s just part of the job. No charge.’
‘Just letting you know.’
‘Appreciate it, T.C., but don’t worry.’
‘Good.’
‘But,’ Bivelli added, ‘one of these days, I’d love to know the whole story.’
T.C. half smiled. Bivelli knew a little piece of what was going on. Stu another little piece. Hank still another. But none of them knew enough to put the whole story together. ‘One of these days,’ T.C. repeated.
Graham reached Dr Bivelli the following morning and set up an appointment for later that same day. Since all the flights between Cairns and Townsville were sold out, Laura chartered a small plane to take them into Townsville. At noon, they arrived at Townsville Memorial Hospital. The office of Aaron Bivelli, M.E., was, of course, on the basement level next to the morgue.
‘Can I help you?’ Dr Bivelli asked with solemn enthusiasm, as befitted his somewhat gruesome occupation. He was a short man in his late fifties, completely bald, a protruding paunch testing the buttons on his gray vest. His face was kind and reserved with a bright, trusting smile.
‘My name is Graham Rowe. We spoke on the phone earlier.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Bivelli said. ‘The sheriff of Palm’s Cove.’
‘And this is Laura Baskin.’
Dr Bivelli turned toward Laura, his face grim. ‘I’m very sorry about your husband, Mrs Baskin.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Please,’ Bivelli said with a wave of his hand, ‘make yourself comfortable.’ He walked around to his side of the desk. ‘I reread your husband’s file after I spoke with Sheriff Rowe this morning, Mrs Baskin. I truly hope I can be of some service.’
‘Maybe you can help us clear up a couple of loose ends,’ Graham said.
‘I’ll certainly try.’
‘Let me begin by asking you this, Doctor. Could there have been foul play in the death of Mr David Baskin?’
Dr Bivelli sat back in his chair. ‘That’s a tough question, Sheriff. I mean, I guess it’s a possibility but I doubt it heavily. First of all, Mr Baskin’s lungs were filled with water when we found him. That means the cause of death was drowning. He was not killed first and then dumped into the ocean. How did he drown? Well, that’s anyone’s guess. He was bopped around a lot out there.’
‘Bopped around a lot?’ Laura asked.
‘Yes, Mrs Baskin,’ Dr Bivelli replied, turning his attention toward her. ‘Your husband’s body was brutally thrashed around by the rough waters. It was hurled against rocks and crunched against the surf. It was splattered against jagged coral and sliced up very badly. Fish probably gnawed on it.’
Laura’s face blanched.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Baskin,’ he added quickly. ‘I’m a pathologist. I never had much use for proper bedside manner.’
Laura swallowed. ‘That’s okay. Please continue.’
‘What I’m trying to say is that the body was in horrible shape when we found it. Could someone have knocked him on the head and dumped his body out to sea? Very doubtful but yes.’
‘Why do you say very doubtful?’ Laura asked.
‘Because most of the time that’s not how it works. Sometimes a man is murdered and his body is dumped in the water to make it look like an accidental drowning. Sometimes a man is killed and a large weight is tied to his body so that it won’t be found for a while. But like I said before, David Baskin drowned and rarely is a man knocked out and then left in the water in the hopes he will end up dead. It’s too risky. He may survive the ordeal by being rescued by a boat or by waking up or whatever.’
Graham nodded. ‘You say Mr Baskin’s body was in bad shape?’
‘Yes.’
‘Beyond recognition?’
Dr Bivelli eyed Laura. ‘Pretty close.’
‘How did you get a positive identification then?’
Dr Bivelli coughed into a fist. ‘Two ways. First, that American policeman who was a friend of his’ – he slipped on a pair of reading glasses and opened the file – ‘an Officer Terry Conroy, was able to recognize certain features. More important, his medical records were sent to me via a fax machine. The dental x-rays arrived the next day and confirmed what we already knew.’ Bivelli looked down at the file again. ‘According to Officer Conroy, Mr Baskin should have been wearing a 1989 NBA championship ring, but we couldn’t use that to i.d. him because his right hand… he wore the ring on his right hand, right, Mrs Baskin?’