Phantom Point
by Gary Inbinder
Chapter 28: The Moore Investigation
part 2
When Max, Eve and Riley returned to the marshal’s office, an out-of-town visitor was there waiting for them.
“No need for introductions,” Marshal Rivers said. “You all know Lieutenant Hamlin.”
Hamlin greeted the detectives with a relieved smile. “There’s been a break in the Burgess case,” he said. “Pull up your chairs and I’ll fill you in on the details.”
The three took their seats next to Hamlin. Riley spoke first, briefing Marshal Rivers and Lieutenant Hamlin on the investigation at the cove and the new evidence they had uncovered in the Virginia Moore case.
He also mentioned Eugenia Merwin’s possible involvement, to which the marshal replied: “There’ve been rumors about an affair between Dan Williams and Eugenia Merwin going back to when her husband was still alive. Anyways, it’s something to consider.”
Then Eve spoke, expressing her surprise at not having received a wire or telephone call prior to the lieutenant’s arrival.
“Sorry, Eve,” Hamlin said. “Things happened so fast I decided to hightail it up here on the next available train. As you already know, a few days ago we arrested Jose “Skinny” Salazar, an old horse thief now specializing in auto theft, on suspicion of stealing the car used in the Burgess murder. It took a while to get Skinny to talk, but he cracked yesterday afternoon. Skinny identified the guy who paid him to steal the car, one Ralph Moon, a slippery customer with a long record of arrests on various charges and no convictions.”
“Was Moon the man who drugged me at the hotel?” Eve said.
“That’s right, Eve,” Hamlin replied. “We picked him up late last night on suspicion of murder and grand theft auto. The DA offered Moon a deal on the murder rap: no death penalty in exchange for his cooperation. Moon went for it, and he named Daniel Williams. It seems Williams got Moon out of a robbery beef a few years back, and Moon owed him a favor. So Williams solicited Moon to get the Phantom Point plat map from Art Burgess.” Hamlin turned to Max. “If you have a theory about what went on between Burgess and Williams, I’d like to hear it.”
“I have a theory,” Max said, “and some evidence to back it up. Burgess was hired by the Van Dorn family to get their son and heir Hugo to leave Eugenia Merwin and return to Chicago. When he failed, they hired me to come out here for the same reason.
“Burgess was desperate for money; I could tell that just by looking at him and his office. You confirmed his financial situation with me after he was murdered.”
“Art was up against it, all right,” Hamlin said. “Go on.”
“While he was in Santa Teresa working on the Van Dorn matter, Burgess learned about the Phantom Point oil rights dispute. I know from a witness that he had at least one covert meeting with Williams. I believe Williams paid Burgess to steal the plat from the county recorder’s office. But once Burgess had possession of the map and knew its value, he tried to squeeze Williams for more dough.
“When Williams refused his demands, Burgess took the map and hopped on the next train to Los Angeles. Williams brought in Moon to recover the map.” Max looked to Eve. “John Merwin hired you for the same reason, to get the map back. Only his reasons were legitimate. Williams must have learned you were going to deal with Burgess, and he passed that information on to Moon. Moon waylaid you at the hotel, conned you into believing he could be helpful to your case, slipped you a Mickey and then showed up for your appointment with Burgess at the bridge.”
Eve flushed with embarrassment, but she didn’t hesitate to reply: “That makes sense, Max.”
“When Burgess was dying,” Max continued, “he told me where the map was and asked me to take it to his client in Santa Teresa. But he died before telling me the client’s name.”
“His client?” Marshal Rivers interjected. “Why would he want you to take the map to Williams? It doesn’t make sense.”
Max frowned and shook his head. “You’re right, Marshal. That part’s got me stumped.”
“Do you think he might have been working for someone else?” Hamlin asked.
“It’s possible,” Max said.
Rivers lit a cigar and took a couple of meditative puffs before saying, “I reckon we’re not going to solve that one right away. What’s certain is that we now have enough evidence to arrest Dan Williams on suspicion of murdering Virginia Moore and for criminal solicitation in Lieutenant Hamlin’s Burgess murder case.”
* * *
Dan Williams leaned forward against the third floor balcony railing at his house looking out on the Pacific. A perfect day for sailing, he thought. The deep blue water reflected a cloudless cerulean sky, a fresh northerly breeze rippled the surface. Waves rolled in, breaking on the rocks and washing up on the white sandy shoreline.
Williams had furnished the balcony deck with a table, chairs, and a telescope mounted on a tripod. He used the telescope to watch the sailing ships and steamers as they passed up and down the coastline. But today there wasn’t a vessel in sight, not even the brown trail of a steamship’s smoke on the far horizon.
Williams looked north toward Phantom Point. He could see the towers of John Merwin’s castle on the bluff and beyond that, the point. A California condor soared high above in the thermals. The majestic bird reminded the lawyer of a recent newspaper article that described a remarkable new flying machine. If I had such a contraption, I might escape this place, he thought. But the lawyer was trapped like an animal in a snare; it was only a matter of time before the dogs were on him.
Williams left the railing and sat in a chair next to the table. He reached for a bottle and a glass and poured a stiff drink of old French brandy that he had been saving for a special occasion. He drained half the glass before setting it down and turned his attention to a file marked Phantom Point and some papers on the table. He had weighted the papers down with a rock so there was no danger of them blowing away. This was Daniel Williams’ signed confession.
The lawyer sighed and shook his head. Thou shall not covet. He had coveted John Merwin’s wealth and Paul Merwin’s woman, and that primal sin had inexorably led to other crimes: adultery, theft and murder. “All I wanted,” he thought, “was Eugenia and a settlement that would have made us comfortable for the rest of our lives. But Eugenia wanted more: much more. She wanted a fifty percent share in the Phantom Point oil revenues. I told her that was impossible. The map was just a bargaining chip. John could prove his claim in court without the map, but he wanted to avoid the time and expense of litigation and the publicity.”
To appease Eugenia, Williams made deals with Moon and Placco. He had no idea that Moon would shoot Burgess. As for Placco, all he was supposed to do was scare Max and run him out of town. You lie down with dogs.... But the worst was Virginia Moore’s murder. I should have said no, but I could never say no to Eugenia.
A loud knock at the door interrupted: “It’s Deputy Riley, Mr. Williams,” a voice shouted. “The house is surrounded. We have a warrant.”
Williams finished his brandy. He reached for a Colt .45 on the table, a factory engraved, ivory-handled presentation piece. Another prize from his yachting days. The lawyer fixed his eyes on the horizon, far out to sea. He imagined he saw a sloop sailing close-hauled, scudding along the waves, bound for some distant port. He raised the revolver, placed the barrel next to his temple and squeezed the trigger.
* * *
News of Williams’ death spread quickly. Santa Teresa was buzzing with speculation as to the reason for the lawyer’s sudden demise. While awaiting an announcement from the coroner, many townsfolk figured the lawyer committed suicide and that had something to do with Virginia Moore’s death.
By that evening, Eugenia Merwin had received word of her lover’s death; it came from the English artist, who had gone into town for supplies. She seemed to take it calmly and without comment. For a moment she stared toward the cliffside and then, without speaking, returned to her cabin and locked the door.
As soon as she was alone, Eugenia collapsed on her bed in a fit of weeping. But her hysterics were not the result of sorrow for her dead lover. Rather, it was from fear of being arrested and charged as his accomplice. It would be like him to leave a written confession, she thought. But would he name me, or protect me by taking all the blame on himself? She couldn’t know, and not knowing increased her torment.
Eugenia tried to think rationally. What evidence was there against her? Williams had handled everything, from his scheme to extort money from John Merwin over the disputed oil rights, to his contacts with Burgess, Placco and Moon, up to and including killing Virginia Moore when she threatened to go to the authorities, and hiding her body in the cave. Eugenia knew everything, she had agreed with Williams’ schemes, and in the end she drove him to commit his worst crime. He didn’t want to kill Virginia. I urged him to do it. I...
Eugenia sat on the edge of the bed, shaking and wringing her hands in a washing motion, over and over again, like Lady Macbeth. She needed something strong to calm her. Hugo’s opium cigarettes. She had taken a box filled with the drugged cigarettes away from Hugo and hidden them. Where did I put them? She thought for a moment. Yes, of course. Look under the bed. She grabbed a kerosene lamp from the bedside table and set it on the floor. Then she got down on her hands and knees and searched under the bed for a loose floorboard. Before long, she found what she was searching for. She lifted the board and retrieved the box.
She lit a cigarette and inhaled the intoxicating smoke. A golden haze enveloped the small room. She felt a sense of euphoria; her troubles vanished. Eugenia laughed and took another deep puff on the cigarette. She walked out of the cabin, looked up and saw a dark purple sky filled with a million stars. How beautiful, she thought, like a Van Gogh.
She walked down the sloping gravel pathway toward the edge of the bluff, her eyes fixed on the stars. As usual on her walks, she left the path and continued on the green, through the wild grasses and flowers. The breeze fluttered her skirts and ruffled her hair. She thought she heard a voice in the wind, calling her name.
She halted at the brink of the point jutting into the ocean. Breakers crashed on the rocks far below. Terns and gulls cried, as if in warning, but she didn’t hear them. She only heard the voice calling: Eugenia. She shut her eyes and took one step forward where she stopped, her feet balanced on the edge of the cliff.
As was her custom, her face turned upward and her lips moved as if in silent prayer. Her arms stretched forward toward the ocean as if in an attempt to embrace the voice in her head. The smoldering opium cigarette dropped from her hand into a clump of dry scrub.
At first she didn’t notice the fire burning at her feet, not until the flames crept up her skirts and she felt their flesh-consuming sting. Eugenia screamed and beat at her blazing garments. In her agony and panic she lost her balance and fell over the cliffside, her body flashing like a shooting star until it crashed and extinguished on the wave-washed rocks below.
Copyright © 2022 by Gary Inbinder
