Photo Finish: A Jack Doyle Mystery (Jack Doyle Series Book 5) by McEvoy John

Author:McEvoy, John [McEvoy, John]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery & Detective
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
Published: 2012-05-06T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-four

Doyle drove rapidly to his Chicago condo that evening after the races. He grabbed a Harp’s out of the refrigerator. Turned on his television, feeling restless and lonely.

The American Movie Channel was showing one of Doyle’s favorites, The Commitments, a film about a collection of talented Dublin misfits who come together to make a successful entrance into the world of popular music.

One of the best scenes came up. A young man was leading a fairly good-sized horse into the freight elevator of a Dublin public housing project, whose Irish residents earlier had been described as “the niggers of Europe in this Third World country.”

The young man, holding the horse’s halter, is asked what he is doing taking the horse into the elevator. The reply was, “Sure, the stairs would kill him.” Where the horse was going was never explained, which Doyle thought was great.

Doyle’s phone rang. He recognized Kellman’s number on the screen.

He said, “Yes, you’ve reached the hotline for unhappy purchasers of items made of animal skins. Do you have a question?”

“Very funny, Jack. Is that the end of your humor for tonight?”

“Probably,” Doyle said. “What’s happening, Moe?”

Kellman said, “Sunday evening. I want you to go with me to talk with Fifi Bonadio. Can you make it? I’ll have Pete Dunleavy pick you up around six.”

“Meet where? Why?”

“On Feef’s yacht in Belmont Harbor. Jack, this is important. Otherwise I wouldn’t be calling when I should be sitting with my wife Leah in front of our television drowsing myself through another Masterpiece Theater rerun.”

“Okay, Moe. I’ll see you there. At Belmont Harbor. Anchors away.”

Doyle smiled at the ironic conclusion of The Commitments. Made himself a Jameson’s nightcap. Went to bed wondering what Fifi Bonadio had on his mind.

***

Doyle and Kellman walked up the short gang plank to Fifi Bonadio’s massive yacht in Belmont Harbor.

“Most of these big boats, of which there are not all that many around here, have to anchor farther out in the harbor,” Kellman said. “Feef got around that arrangement. Like he gets around a lot of things.”

A pleasant breeze stirred the nautical flags on the long, white, motor yacht. It was an impressive craft with an aluminum hull, carefully swabbed and polished teak decks, gleaming brass. The retreating evening sun glinted off the wide top level windows in the pilot house. Looking up, Doyle saw one of Bonadio’s bulky assistants waiting for them so he could open the gate onto the boat. Doyle smiled up at the man. His smile was not returned. “Why does Bonadio keep using these bozos?” he said.

“Is Feef still alive and well? After all these years? Maybe that’s why.”

Once aboard, the assistant said, “This way, Mr. Kellman.” He ignored Doyle. Led them to the front of the motor yacht on the first level. It was a large area with comfortable wrap-around leather seating, a table in the middle that held an elaborate variety of snack items. Cavier and crackers, plates of cheeses and vegetables, assorted fruit, cocktail meatballs and wieners. They sat down.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.