“Maybe he’s got something to hide,” Pyykkonen said. “This is a homicide case and I don’t think you want to be obstructing it, Mr. Miltey.”
Joe Miltey went to one of the file cabinets and came back with a piece of paper he dropped on the desk. “Irv McCrae bought da boat in nighny-six.”
“Got an address?”
Miltey shoved the paper across.
The address was Freda, a village fifteen miles west of Houghton on the Lake Superior coast.
“Thanks,” Gus said.
“Yeah, right,” Joe Miltey said.
Service called McCrae from his truck. The man had a sandpaper voice and claimed he sold the boat to Margaret Soper in Painesdale last July and asked if Service wanted her number. Service wrote down the name, thanked McCrae, and showed his notebook to Pyykkonen.
“Round and round we go,” she said, shaking her head.
Gus followed them to Painesdale. Maggie Soper came out on her porch.
Pyykkonen said, “You bought a boat in July from Irv McCrae in Freda, a twenty-six-foot Miltey Commander with a blue hull.”
“I sold a boat to da professor,” she said.
“You didn’t mention that the last time we were here.”
“Youse was askin’ aboot real estate, hey. I don’t read minds.”
“How long after you bought it did Pung buy it?”
“I never even seen it. The professor called me up and said he found dis boat for a good price and he wanted it for fishing. Said since nine-eleven, foreigners can’t get registrations and stuff. Said he’d give me the money and he’d buy it in my name.”
“How much?” Pyykkonen said.
“Four thousand plus a thousand.”
“Where’s the boat now?”
“I thought youse had it,” Soper said.
“Have you got a bill of sale? Did you register the boat?”
“He said he’d take care of all that, but he never got the paperwork to me.”
“But you got the cash,” Pyykkonen said.
The woman smiled smugly. “I don’t care for your tone of voice.”
“We’ll talk again,” Pyykkonen said, “and next time you’re gonna hate my tone of voice.”
Service called Station 20 for a title and registration check. The boat had last been registered to McCrae two years before, which meant it was good for another year, unless it was sold. The Certificate of Number had not been surrendered to the secretary of state as the law required when a boat was sold. A search showed no new registration had been filed for.
Service called McCrae again. “The secretary of state says your registration hasn’t been turned in.”
“Geez, I give it to da fella picked it up. Said he’d take care of it. Is this a ticket?”
“Who picked up the boat, Irv?”
“Asian fella. I tink ’is name was Harry. Teacher up ta Tech, said he was picking it up as a favor to the Soper woman. Am I in trouble?”
“Was Harry a young guy?”
“Everybody’s young compared to me. I’d say mebbe he was fifty, ya know.”
“We’d like for you to look at a photo for us.”
“What’s this all about?”
“Relax, Irv. Just look at the photo when the detective comes, and we’ll leave you be.”
Service looked at Pyykkonen. “Looks like Harry picked up the boat himself.”
“He didn’t want a paper trail,” she said. “Sounds like he didn’t expect to be a boat owner long.”
“He wasn’t,” Service said. “Have you talked to the ex’s lawyer yet?”
“Three of them, never the same one twice. They insist there’s no son. We’ve gotten nowhere.”
Every case had a key, and more and more it looked like Soong was it—but he couldn’t stop wondering why the boat had been scuttled near Laughing Fish Point.
“I guess I’d better get on out to Freda,” Pyykkonen said, but he wasn’t listening.
He ended the day with a call to Nantz, explaining the Toogood photo mystery. She said she would have time soon, and would check into it.
34
He was hungry but not in the mood for a sandwich, and settled on an old recipe for quick black bean and hominy stew. He heated olive oil in a big pan and added green peppers, onions, and garlic. When the vegetables softened, he poured in chicken broth, added the hominy, ham, cumin, coriander, minced chipotles, and a can of black beans. As the stew was thickening he got a call from Ironhead Southard.
“Honeypat left Allerdyce last year before Christmas. The word is that she hooked up with Kelo and Limpy didn’t like it, which as far as I know is the first time that old reprobate’s been bothered by anything like that,” the retired officer said.