Bad Monkey

“So it was really good pot,” Yancy said. Bonnie Witt’s reaction to the severed limb had been not so jolly, though, in retrospect, they hadn’t laughed very much as a couple. Again he asked: “Who brought the dead arm to Phinney?”

“Here’s the worst,” said Madeline. “We’re so trashed, Charlie grabs the middle finger on the hand, right? The bird finger? And he bends it up like this, so it looks like the dead dude is flippin’ us off! I ’bout peed my panties. But then he stuck the thing in the freezer and next morning it was all iced up, and he couldn’t bend the finger back ’cause he was afraid it would snap off. So that’s how it stayed when he took it on the Misty.”

“Captain Fitzpatrick didn’t know anything about this, right?”

“You kidding? He would have gaffed Charlie in the nut sack.”

She wanted another cigarette so Yancy followed her outside. He stood upwind and gulped the salty fresh air. The inside of Stoney’s smelled like fried sweat socks.

“Who else did Charlie tell about the arm?”

“Nobody but me,” Madeline said emphatically. “Soon as he sobered up he got semi-paranoid about it. But the money, you know, that was different. The night after he got paid he took me to Louie’s for dinner and bought a round for everyone at the bar, two hundred bucks.” She dragged hard and then flicked the butt into a rain puddle. “Nobody said he was Alvin Einstein.”

Yancy thought it was fortunate that Phinney and Madeline hadn’t pooled their genes. He said: “Who got Charlie to do this thing? Didn’t he mention the guy’s name?”

“Wasn’t a guy,” Madeline said. “It was a chick that brought him the cut-off arm, Charlie said. He didn’t know her name but she’s the one who paid him, too. A white chick in tight white jeans. Is that wild or what? Like she was on her way to the damn mall.”

Yancy patted her hand. “You need to get out of town.”

Nine

They didn’t call ahead, just showed up one evening at the door. Shark-gray suits, flat expressions. They told Simon Cox they needed to speak alone with Caitlin. Simon, who practically got a boner when he saw their federal shields, obediently disappeared into the small bedroom he used as a gym.

The interview only lasted twenty minutes—the agents could plainly see Caitlin wasn’t living like a Kardashian, or even like the daughter of a wealthy dead medical-supply executive. She was creeped out because they knew the humiliating balance of her checking account, down to the penny. They knew Simon’s car was paid off, and hers wasn’t. They knew the amount on her American Express card. They even knew about one of her rehabs.

And now they knew what her house looked like, all fourteen-hundred square feet. Lebron James had closets that were bigger.

“What’re you guys after?” she asked.

“Money,” said one of the agents.

“Dad didn’t pay his taxes again? That figures.”

“It’s more complicated than that. Did he ever discuss his business with you?”

“We weren’t speaking for a long time. So no is the answer.”

The other agent said, “Did he give you any instructions, in the event of his death?”

“What did I just say? The two of us weren’t talking. He didn’t even put me in his will is what I heard.”

“Looks like his wife gets everything,” the first agent said, “all twelve thousand dollars.”

Caitlin laughed in disbelief. “Twelve grand?”

The second agent said, “Now you understand our interest.”

“Dad had a shitload of money.”

“That’s our information, as well. However, the only American bank account with his name on it held twelve thousand and change when he passed away—basically enough for the funeral. So, we were hoping you might know what happened to the rest.”

Caitlin glared at the agents. “Eve’s the one you should be talking to about the money. Ask her if she killed my father, while you’re at it. Because she did! Don’t you guys do murders?”

“If you have hard evidence, you should call the police right away.”

“Done deal,” Caitlin declared. “I got a detective in the Keys working the case full-time. Yancy is his name.”

The FBI men showed no reaction, no interest.

One of them said: “We tried to interview Mrs. Stripling about your father’s finances, including his life insurance policy. She asked to be left alone.”

“And that’s what you did?” Caitlin asked incredulously.

“She’s not under subpoena, Mrs. Cox.”

“Good, then leave me alone, too!”

As soon as the agents were gone, Simon came out and asked Caitlin what they’d wanted. She told him it looked like Eve had ripped off her dad’s estate.

“Big surprise, right?” she said. “All Dad’s money is missing—who knows how much.”

“They’ll find it,” said Simon confidently. The feds were absolutely the best.

“He was a fool to marry that greedy whore.” Caitlin was still livid. “I hope they throw her ass in jail for a hundred years.”

“Did they leave a card?” Simon asked, meaning the agents. He was thinking he would ask them out for a beer. Bring along his résumé.

The phone rang and Caitlin picked it up. She looked surprised by the caller. Lowering her voice, she turned her back on Simon, which he didn’t appreciate.