Orchid Beach

CHAPTER

40

Harry Crisp looked less like an FBI agent than Holly had imagined. He was fairly tall and skinny, and wore horn-rimmed glasses. She thought he looked more like a bank loan officer than a lawman. He shook everybody’s hand and sat down to dinner, declining wine.

“So what’s up, Jackson?” he asked, twirling spaghetti on his fork. “What’s so mysterious we needed a land line?”

“We’re just being careful, Harry,” Jackson said. “Holly is beginning to worry that there might be bugs at both our houses, and…well, maybe we’re just paranoid.”

“Paranoid about what?”

“Holly, you tell him.”

Holly put down her fork. “Orchid Beach has a lot of upscale residential developments—houses, tennis courts, golf courses, polo, the works.”

“I’m familiar with the type of thing,” Crisp said.

“We’ve got one that’s unusual.”

“How so?” Crisp asked, munching.

“Well, it’s on a good fifteen hundred acres, but it’s only got a couple of hundred houses, and it appears to be already fairly fully developed.”

“Sounds expensive,” Crisp said.

“Extremely,” Holly replied. “It’s also got three eighteen-hole golf courses and its own six-thousand-foot airfield.”

“For two hundred households?” Crisp asked.

“That’s it. And the airfield gets a lot of international traffic. They have some sort of deal with customs and immigration to clear arrivals on the spot.”

“A private airport of entry? I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“Neither have I,” Jackson said.

“Tell me more.”

“The place is surrounded by a ten-foot-high double fence with razor wire on top, and the inner fence is electrified.”

“Security conscious, huh?”

Ham spoke up. “We tried to get a look at their marina the other day, and they threatened us with automatic weapons and threw us out in a hurry.”

“Touchy.”

“You could say that.”

“There’s more,” Holly said. “The place is nearly completely cut off from any local services, except maybe the food supply. It has an electricity generating plant, its own water and sewage system, and the houses were built by labor imported from somewhere else. Only the basic infrastructure was built by locals.”

Crisp finished his dinner and pushed his plate away. “What else?”

Ham got up and started clearing the table.

“The employees seem all to live on the grounds,” Jackson said. “No locals were hired. We estimate there’s housing for four hundred employees.”

“They’ve got two thousand telephone lines and a communications center you won’t believe,” Holly said, bringing out the aerial photographs and spreading them out on the table.

“How the hell did you get this?” Crisp asked. “This looks like a satshot.”

“Old-fashioned aerial photography,” Jackson replied. “Friend of mine does it for a living.”

Holly pointed out the building with the antennae.

“Anybody got a magnifying glass?” Crisp asked.

Holly found one on Ham’s desk and handed it to him.

Crisp peered closely at the communications equipment. “I’ll tell you something,” he said. “This is more stuff than the bureau has on its roof in Miami.”

“Check this out,” Holly said, pointing at place after place. “We think this is all camouflage netting.”

“Covering what?”

“Use your imagination.”

“That’s asking a lot of an FBI man,” Jackson said.

“I’ll do my best,” Crisp said. “Okay, I give up. What could be under there?”

“Ham is ex-army. He says maybe antiaircraft guns or even ground-to-air missiles.”

“Whoa,” Crisp said. “Let’s try to keep both feet on the ground, here.”

“Harry,” Jackson said, “everything about this place defies the imagination.”

“Yeah,” Holly said. “State licensing records show that a hundred and two employees, including a security force of fifteen, have licenses to carry weapons.”

“That’s a lot,” Crisp said.

“Jackson recognized five of the names on the security force as having criminal records, but when we checked the state computer, they were all showing as clean.”

“Everybody makes mistakes,” Crisp said.

“There’s more,” Holly said. “Today, I ran all one hundred and two gun-toters through the state computer, and they all came up clean. Then I ran the same names through your national computer, and seventy-one of them turned up with convictions ranging over most of the spectrum of criminal activity.” She placed the files on the table.

Crisp looked at a few of them, then looked up at Holly. “That’s unbelievable,” he said. “You’ve got a very serious problem at the state level. Have you reported this to Tallahassee?”

“No, only the three of us know about what we’ve told you.”

“Thank God for that,” Crisp said. “For Christ’s sake, don’t tell anybody else.”

“Don’t worry,” Holly replied.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Ham knew the Palmetto Gardens head of security in the army. His name is Barney Noble.”

“I know that name. Doesn’t he have a security company in Miami?”

“Right,” Jackson replied, “Craig and Noble. I think all the security guards have come out of there.”

“And they’re armed to the teeth,” Holly said. “I’ve seen assault rifles, and a lot of the regular support staff—waiters, groundskeepers and the like—are packing.”

“I’m going to have to talk to some of my people about this,” Crisp said. “Can I call you at your office, Holly?”

“Not on the regular departmental line,” Holly replied. She wrote down her private number. “On this line.”

“Are you worried about somebody in your department?”

“Yes. My predecessor, Chet Marley, thought somebody was dealing with somebody outside, but I never found out who or what. He was shot the night I arrived in town, along with a friend of his that he might have told about this. They’re both dead.”

“And you think this is connected to Palmetto Gardens?”

“I can’t prove it. What do you think is going on here, Harry?”

“Well, it’s highly suspicious, of course, to have what amounts to a private army to protect two hundred houses and a golf course, but that’s probably not criminal.”

“Altering the state’s criminal records is,” Jackson said.

“It’s certainly probable cause for me to get involved,” Harry replied. “It was a very smart move, Holly, to run those records and compare them with the national computer. If you hadn’t done that, I’d probably have to tell you to call me when somebody at Palmetto Gardens commits a crime.”

“What can you do with what we’ve got, Harry?”

“If I bring half a dozen people up here, is there somewhere we can all meet without attracting attention?”

“My house,” Jackson said, “but bring somebody who can sweep it for bugs.” He drew Crisp a map.

Crisp looked at his watch. “I’m going to drive back to Miami tonight and try to set up a meeting with my agent in charge tomorrow morning. Is there an airport here?”

“Yeah,” Jackson said, “but I don’t think you want a lot of suits getting off a big airplane out there. Be inconspicuous.”

“Thanks, Jackson,” Crisp said sarcastically. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. Holly, can I have these photographs and records?”

“Sure, but I’ll want them back.”

“I’ll have copies made and return the originals,” he said. He stood up. “I’ve got a long drive, and I’ve got to pick up my stuff from a motel in Fort Pierce. I’d better get going.”

“Thanks for coming,” Holly said. “I feel like I’m in over my head, here, and I could sure use some help figuring this thing out.”

“I think I can get you what you need, Holly,” Crisp said.

“And try not to get her killed while you’re doing it,” Jackson said.

“Jackson, your overwhelming confidence in your government never ceases to amaze me,” Crisp replied, gathering up the photographs and records.

Jackson laughed aloud.

“Be seeing you,” Harry Crisp said, then left.