BEST I DON'T KNOW
#130 - The plane came in low and buzzed the camp, turned around, landed, and eased up to the dock.
Welcome to Before I Forget . .
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BEST I DON’T KNOW
Christi set up another “procurement,” as she called it. She gave me the setup.
I would love to know the circle of people she travels with. She is connected big time. It is probably best I don’t know.
This time, it is in my backyard, or near enough. Down at Calcasieu Point, the inside curve of Devils’ Elbow. It is a sharp bend in the Intracoastal Waterway used by towboats pushing almost anything going anywhere from Brownsville, Texas up the coast and around the tip of Florida and up to Massachusetts. A canal running along the Gulf and Atlantic coasts. A major shipping lane.
It is at a hunting and fishing camp across the canal on Devil’s Elbow. Accessible by boat, and floatplane, or a long slog through a foreboding half water half lowland world.
The owner of the camp is a wealthy oilman named Jules Robicheaux. Just guessing, but the coming guests probably have money as well.
He arrived two days ago, with a couple of ‘security’ fellows. They stay out back in a small guesthouse, a converted boat shed.
Five, and maybe a sixth ‘collector’ will be getting together for a few days to enjoy some fishing and get something more for their collections.
No big stuff. Only things that fit inside a carry-on bag. Jewelry, artifacts, and the like.
You see, Christi has secured one of the three fishing camps across the canal from Robicheaux’s place. I don’t know if she bought, leased, or rented it. Another of those ‘probably best I don’t know’ pieces of information.
This has been in the making for weeks.
I’ve been down here six weeks blending in. I fish and do caretaker things around the place. I wouldn’t mind owning this place myself.
My neighbors are nice; we’ve shared drinks and food at sunset. I’ve gone out in the Gulf a couple of times with Kent.
They arrived yesterday afternoon. I had my binocs on them from inside the cabin, looking for clues about them and their baggage as they arrived at the camp.
Three in an airboat. It tied up next to Robicheaux’s yacht. Two men were older, the third, the boat pilot, was in his prime. This fellow was one of my targets. Suitcase and regular carry-on bag. He has “The Dagger.”
Getting The Dagger, and the collectibles of the two people who were to arrive by floatplane, would make our brigandry a success. A trifecta, if you will.
The plane came in low and buzzed the camp, turned around, landed, and eased up to the dock.
Robicheaux and the others met them on the dock. The pilot tossed Robicheaux the landline and he commenced to reel the plane in and tie it down. The pilot got out, and I recognized him.
Roberto Rodriguez, The Senor from Patagonia, the fellow I lifted The Necklace, diamond bracelet, and dagger from. It was the first time I'd seen him for real.
He had a haughty aire about him, He didn’t belie his reputation.
He swung the plane around and secured another line from the tail to the dock, then opened the passenger door.
Christi stepped on deck.
I was taken aback. What’s going on? She is, with The Senor?
With their suitcases, she had a camo shoulder bag; he had a black briefcase. Two more of the three items on my list.
I must say she was beautiful, dressed stylishly rugged for a few days at the camp.
But, what was going on with her and Roberto? I’m supposed to steal her bag? Best I don’t know.
They settled in over the evening. The two older guys tossed in a couple of lines looking for Redfish and set a few crab nets as well. To embellish the evening meal.
At dusk, I set out in my jonboat to set a few jug lines for channel and blue catfish. They are some good eating, tomorrow's lunch.
By dark, I was down the canal a ways. I beached up on the opposite shore in the tall grass and made the hike back to Robicheaux’s camp along the canal side levee. Beyond was marshland, sloughs, and lakes, then the gulf.
I got to the camp. I needed to get information. Dodging the security guys was easy. They were watching TV in their guesthouse. Occasionally one stepped out for a walk-around check.
Through several windows I could see the inside layout. It was beautifully done on the inside with rich furnishings and decor. A big kitchen/dining/living room with bedrooms and baths at the rear. You’d never expect it, judging from the outside look.
Christi had one bedroom, the men shared the two other rooms, and Jules stayed aboard his boat.
They were arranging their accommodations, eating dinner, and watching TV, with conversations running back and forth between them. They showed each other what they brought to buy, sell, trade, or gamble.
The Senor became wide-eyed agitated when the young man pulled out The Dagger from his bag.
“That’s mine!” he called out. “Where did you get that? Who did you get that from? Do you have the other stuff?”
Conversation came to a halt, eyes on the two men.
“What do you mean? I bought this legit. From Sotheby’s, this spring in Geneva. I have papers.”
“The knife is mine! And I’ll find out who stole it.” - Note to self. I have been forewarned. -
“Well, I..”
“I’ll buy it from you. Right now. I’ll make it worth your while. How much?”
“Well, I..”
“Tell you what. Let’s make it fun. Let’s draw high card for it. You win; I’ll pay you double your cost for it. If I win. I get my knife back free and clear.”
“It cost a lot.”
“I’ll beat anybody’s offer.”
The younger fellow eyed Rodriguez. You could see him working the pluses and minuses in his head.
He took out his pen and tore out a sheet from his memo pad and wrote on it.
“I’ll sell it to you for this much,” he said, shoving the paper over to him.
Rodriguez picked up the paper and set his eyes on it.
“Done. I assume you want a check?”
“Yes, a check, please. Gotta show it on my tax forms,” he smiled.
He pulled his checkbook out from inside his vest, borrowed the young man’s pen, wrote out a check, and slid the check over.
“I’ll take the knife, now, if you don’t mind.”
He looked the blade over for a few seconds, then reached for his case and put it inside.
Now I knew who had The Dagger and where it was. How convenient. Two items now in one. Did Christi set this up? She knew I’d be around. She said she’d clue me in best she could.
The table talk continued with the men, and Christi, showing their wares. It was an impressive array of collectibles.
Transactions began in earnest.
Roberto brought out a handful of pottery shards, dated over 2000 years old, with Aramaic writing engraved on them. Biblical, rare, and valuable. Christi wanted them and outbid the others.
She wanted to trade two of four rare 1st print books, one of which was “Grimm’s Fairy Tales,” for the shards. Roberto wanted all four. He didn’t let go of his pottery just yet.
The first round of trading wound down and one by one, they headed to their rooms for the night.
I made my way back to my boat and motored back to my cabin picking up four jugline cats along the way. It was 11:45.
I cleaned the fish dockside and iced them down.
Turning off the dock light, I sat there in the dark, looking across the water at the camp.
Then I thought – Why not do it now?
part 2 coming up
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For my new Subscribers - a post from Aug 30, 2024,
Two Uncles
I was awake after a couple of hours sleep. The full moon shined through the window and spread itself like a white sheet across our bed. The room was bright enough to read the wall clock.
Photo by Guy Fanguy








Intriguing. I'm guessing, NOT a true story?
Yowza! This is quite a story, Ron. Waiting for part 2 now!