Charles Willeford_Hoke Moseley 01 by Miami Blues

Author:Miami Blues [Blues, Miami]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Hard-Boiled, Mystery & Detective
ISBN: 9781400032464
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 1984-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

When Farris didn’t come back later, after Hoke could have visitors, Hoke assumed that he had left for Sebring. But Hoke knew that he would never go dove hunting with Red Farris; once a man left Miami, that was the end of it, and Red knew it as well as he did.

Although his jaw was still wired and he could talk only with difficulty, Hoke was glad to see Bill Henderson. Bill told Hoke that the case of the four dead Colombians had been solved.

Henderson had borrowed a skycap’s uniform and cap, put them on one of his black detectives, and had him falsely finger the Colombian woman as the person in a purple Cadillac who had dropped off two men at the Miami International Airport. Confronted by this direct, if false, identification, she had broken down. The child, as it turned out, was the maid’s, not her own, and the child was not supposed to be killed. She was upset about that, which helped to make up her mind, too. The killers were back safely in Cartagena and would never be extradited. But at least their names were known now, so it was unlikely that the same pair would be used in Miami for more assassinations.

“I knew she was in on it for sure, Hoke, when you told me there were no packages in the trunk. The woman had nine hundred bucks in her purse, and there is no way that a woman could shop for two hours with that kind of money and not buy something.”

Henderson shrugged. “But she hasn’t been arraigned yet. I’ve got a hunch that they’ll set bail for a hundred thousand and let her skip back to Colombia. That’s what usually happens.”

Hoke nodded, and made a circle with his thumb and forefinger. Henderson pulled his chair closer to the bed.

“You got any idea who did this to you, Hoke?”

“Uh-uh.” Hoke rolled his head back and forth on the pillow.

“Got any ideas?”

Hoke nodded and then shrugged. He was tired, and he wanted Henderson to leave.

“I talked some to Eddie Cohen, the old fart on the desk, and he says he didn’t see any strangers in the hotel. The manager questioned some of the old ladies who sit around the TV set in the lobby, and they didn’t notice anyone either.”

Henderson got up, and walked to the window. He looked down into the parking lot. “I—ah—I checked your room, Hoke, and I really don’t think you should be living in a crummy place like that. All those social security types and Marielitos—it’s depressing as shit, Hoke. When you get out of here, you’ll have to recuperate for a couple of weeks. I can put you up at my house. We can put a cot out in the Florida room, and Marie’ll look after you.”

“No dice, Bill.” Hoke closed his eyes. After a few seconds, Henderson tapped him on the shoulder.

“Well, think about it anyway, old sport. I’d better get outta here and let you get some rest.

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