The Case of the Phantom Diver Ch 24

"The wrong grave! What do you mean?" Jake questioned, his voice far too loud inside the Tarr family crypt.

Phinn shushed him as they heard raised voices outside. Risking a look, he saw a flashlight shining around Jason's grave. However, it snapped off after a few more seconds. Based on the bickering, along with the known dynamic between the Rattigan brothers, Phinn guessed Garth had turned on his flashlight before Floyd ordered him to shut it off. It was the wiser move to attract the least attention; while not a genius, Floyd had a little more common sense than his brother.

Satisfied that Jake's exclamation hadn't been heard, Phinn slipped back inside the mausoleum. Immediately, the brainy detective could tell his partner wasn't happy about being left in the dark again about the case. So, with barely a sliver of moonlight shining through the partially opened door, Phinn moved in close to whisper an explanation.

"Okay, here it is. First, Cozart's reality game show/ treasure hunt was never going to end with Jason's grave as the final location of the treasure. Think about it. His grave was too obvious and easy to guess. Why? Because someone could shortcut the final steps and dig up his empty grave. The whole point of Cozart's concept was to show the hunt and various unwitting contestants jockeying back and forth in the lead. Any shortcut would've been unacceptable."

"Fine. I got that. But where is the proper burial spot?" Jake questioned.

"I'll get to that. Second, Clara Livingston's fake diary was intended to reveal the path to the final clue. I'm not sure, but in hindsight, I think it pointed toward an old Tarr location. Looking through the few notes the killer didn't take of Cozart's, there is a mention of an old warehouse the family still owns. It's possible, if not likely, that the diary might have led there," Phinn speculated in the moonlight.

"But Red Mask--or the fake Red Mask--stole the diary before we had a chance to study it much," Jake noted.

"Cozart or Mindy might have had a contingency plan for such a development. Who knows? Regina might have suddenly remembered the key detail from the diary. But shit popped off, and everything got away from them."

"Literally," Jake said, pointing to his chest.

"Well, yeah. Getting gunned down was clearly not in the cards Cozart expected," Phinn agreed sarcastically. "Alright, despite the script they crafted, I managed to create our own shortcut. I couldn't be sure of the final location, but I figured it had to be in this cemetery. Regina admitted they permitted using their family crypt, so logically, this building connected somehow."

"But it's not in here... or is it?" Jake asked, turning around to stare at the darkness.

"No, it's not in here," Phinn dismissed. "If you recall, earlier today, we went outside, and I scanned the area."

"Yeah, you said you were looking for a place to observe from."

"No, that's what you thought, and I didn't correct you. It seemed likely that if Cozart and Mindy buried their fake/potentially real treasure recently, the ground should be disturbed."

"That's right! It should," Jake hissed, a little too loud for Phinn's comfort.

"However, there shouldn't be any signs of a freshly dug-up area in one of the cemetery's oldest sections. It's been ages since these plots filled up. That's why I scanned the tree line first. However, while I was doing so, I noticed a grave that looked off. That's when it hit me that Cozart had to know the caretaker would immediately spot any disturbed grave. He might be losing his eyesight, but the man knows these grounds," Phinn pointed out. "In that case, Cozart would need to cover up what he did. And what better way is there to cover up a freshly dug spot?"

"Uh... Oh! They brought sod with them," Jake realized.

"Right! I only realized so after noticing one grave looked slightly different. Often, the headstones and monuments in this section lead to dry or dead patches. It's natural in a cemetery where light doesn't always shine down. That's why a freshly green and healthy grave caught my eye."

Frequently checking outside while Phinn revealed what he'd kept secret, Jake suddenly stiffened. Despite the dim lighting, Phinn picked up on his partner's tension. With several gestures, Jake pointed to a grove of trees on the opposite side of the walkway and the crypt.

Squinting, Phinn didn't see anything.

After two minutes, Jake relaxed slightly.

"I saw something. A glimpse of light, I think," Jake whispered, still watching the tree. "Might have been a cigarette."

"Hang on," Phinn said, picking up the tablet. With the weak signal holding, he checked the four cameras he'd placed. "I don't think you noticed, but I positioned two of the webcams toward Jason's grave and the other two at the real location. Hmm, no, I can't see that spot from here."

"Somebody has to be over there. Those trees lead to the cemetery's interior, not outside," Jake pointed out. Phinn agreed. It couldn't have been an outside source of light.

"Keep an eye on it," Phinn directed before returning to his explanation. "When we were first here, I merely pretended to tie my shoe while I bent down. In reality, I wanted to read the faded inscription on the tombstone. You'll never believe the name: Elbridge Jane."

"EJ!" Jake hissed, recalling the initials mentioned in Clara Livingston's diary. Then, a creepy thought entered his mind. "Hold on. They buried the treasure with a corpse?"

"Doubtful," Phinn replied, leaning forward as he thought he saw movement around the trees. "If anything, I think we already met Mr. Jane."

"Huh?"

"If my speculation is correct, Elbridge Jane is the skeleton diver."

"Holy shit!" Jake squealed before covering his mouth for a moment. "They dug up a real corpse to plant on the beach. That's so wrong!"

"And illegal, as you know," Phinn added. "I'm not sure if Jason Tarr and Elbridge Jane were actual friends in real life or just a convenient pair for Cozart. Based on their headstones, they lived during roughly the same period. Perhaps the final clue revealed their true relationship. However, Elbridge appears to be the last Jane buried in this area. Maybe Cozart picked him as there aren't any present-day relatives around to sue him. Regina mentioned that most of Jason's friends' families moved away or died out. Either way, the location of his grave near Jason's was probably an additional factor for Cozart's game."

Out of nowhere, a shout filled the night air.

Jake and Phinn froze in their spots. Leaning forward warily, they listened as additional voices joined the Rattigans'. Gesturing at his partner, Phinn slid out the crypt's door again. Risking a look before ducking down, he saw two new people standing in the darkness. The teen noticed that the moonlight had faded somewhat as clouds slowly rolled in.

Forced to move closer, Phinn crawled along the grass before peering around one of the Tarrs' large gravestones. Two things immediately caught his eye. Scarface and Stringy Hair had appeared, and Stringy Hair held a handgun.

"What the fuck, Kuhn?" Floyd yelled. "You're trying to muscle in on our score?"

"It's my score now, Rattigan," Burke Kuhn, aka Scarface, declared. An infamous stickup artist, Kuhn's actions shouldn't have shocked the other criminals.

A snicker from Orton, aka Stringy Hair, caused Garth to glare at the man holding the gun. Standing waist-deep in the grave, Floyd placed a hand on his younger brother to stop him from doing anything rash.

"You steal from one Rattigan; you steal from every Rattigan. Keep that in mind, Kuhn," Floyd warned about his large extended family. He motioned for Garth to climb out of the grave.

"Hold up. You boys aren't finished digging," Kuhn stated, leaning on a shovel he'd brought.

"If you think we're going to--"

The wave of the handgun cut off Floyd's argument.

"You got two choices. Either dig and live to walk away. Or don't dig and end up filling that grave once we're finished," Kuhn threatened.

Even with the dim lighting, Phinn could see Floyd's clenched jaw. With a gun drawn and a notorious killer pulling its owner's strings, the career criminal knew Kuhn meant his threat. Muttering, he picked up his shovel to resume digging.

Waiting to ensure all four men were preoccupied, Phinn stealthily returned to the crypt. Fortunately, Jake had witnessed most of the exchange on the video. Phinn only needed to add the audio that his partner hadn't heard.

"Ah, this should complicate matters," Phinn remarked. "Not that it's unexpected. I thought that pair might appear."

"But with a gun?"

"Kuhn's known for resorting to violence. Although he rarely gets his hands dirty."

"We can see how he avoids it," Jake commented, gesturing to the close-up view of Orton holding the handgun. "Is it getting darker out there?"

"The weather front is moving in. It should get even darker soon," Phinn said, noticing the time.

While he didn't say it aloud, Phinn wondered how the appearance of two additional men and a gun might affect the killer's plans. Surprisingly, it didn't take long to find out.

"Whoa!" Jake exclaimed, gesturing to the tablet.

Swinging his head around, Phinn caught the end result of a shotgun slamming into the back of Orton's head. Knocked forward, his pistol hit the ground with a minor thud. Even from inside the crypt, they heard the Rattigans' shocked shouts. Watching the video feed, they saw Fake Red Mask enter their view, stopping Kuhn's approach with a shotgun swing aimed in his direction.

Dying to know more, Phinn scrambled out of the door again. With a hiss from his partner, Jake continued to watch the tablet.

"Friend of yours, Floyd?" Kuhn asked over his shoulder.

"Not that I know of!"

"Quiet!" Fake Red Mask commanded.

Despite the threat, the infamous robber didn't heed it. Instead, Burke Kuhn glared at the newest arrival with murderous eyes.

"I don't know who you are, buddy. But this won't end well for you. That's my loot."

Fake Red Mask chuckled while gesturing for the Rattigans to climb out of the mostly dug-out grave. Satisfied they would comply, he kicked Orton in the butt with an order to get up as well. Once all four men stood around the open grave, Fake Red Mask stepped back to ensure he could fire quickly on anyone who made a move.

"Fools, you're digging in the wrong grave," the armed man said, shaking his head in disgust.

While the Rattigans sputtered protests, Kuhn cocked his head to the side. Hiding behind a sizeable headstone, Phinn nodded in agreement. Although he could be in danger if this broke wrong, his curiosity got the better of him.

"Move it over there," Fake Red Mask directed, motioning toward the other side of the walkway. "I'll show you where to start digging."

"You ever kill a man?" Kuhn asked.

"What?"

"It's not an easy cherry to pop," the experienced killer stated, glaring at the shotgun-wielding man. His tense stance reminded Phinn of a cheetah ready to pounce on its prey.

"Yeah, I've killed before. Try me," Fake Red Mask challenged, pointing the shotgun straight at Kuhn.

Realizing the masked man might have an itchy trigger finger, the stickup artist held up his hands placatingly. With his head, he nudged Orton to follow the order and cross over to the other side of the walkway with the Rattigans.

"Don't worry. I'm not greedy," Fake Red Mask said, picking up Orton's pistol and placing it inside the back of his belt. "I just want the music box. You can split the rest however you want."

An inducement to get the four criminals to go along with his orders, Fake Red Mask's revelation had the gears turning inside Phinn's brain. Not willing to risk moving while the others walked, he had to wait until the armed man added additional directions so that he could return to the crypt.

"What's happening?" Jake questioned.

"They moved to Jane's grave. Fake Red Mask ordered Scarface and Stringy Hair to start digging. Floyd and Garth are rotating with the other shovel. It's the smart play. The Rattigans look exhausted," Phinn explained.

"Can you tell who he is?"

"Oh, I know his identity, and his offer just confirmed it," Phinn replied.

Quickly, he filled Jake in on what Fake Red Mask said about only wanting the music box. That confused the athletic teen until Phinn revealed the killer's identity. Holding in a whistle, Jake shook his head in shock.

"I can't believe it."

"Believe it," Phinn replied, checking the tablet. "It looks like it's started to mist outside. I thought I felt some moisture while I was watching."

"What now?" Jake asked.

"We wait. This might take the better part of an hour. Or do you want to make our move now? If so, you're doing the digging as there is no way I'm working that hard," Phinn stated.

"We can wait."

"I thought so," Phinn said, grinning.

Sitting and watching the video feed, Phinn and Jake discussed their plan. Despite Jake not expecting Scarface and Stringy Hair, Phinn had planned for the unexpected. So, he explained how the new additions would be handled. Jake had doubts about Phinn's part of the plan, but his partner insisted he could handle it. After about twenty minutes, Phinn checked the time: 2:27 am. He noted the thunderstorms would be here within the next half hour if the forecast held up. Based on the footage, the rain had shifted from a mist to a drizzle.

After another fifteen minutes, Phinn needed to go outside again. This time, he discovered the drizzle had become a steady rain, and the diggers weren't happy.

"Watch it, Rattigan! You're shoveling that mud back into the hole!" Kuhn complained.

"I can't help it!" Floyd yelled back as lightning flashed off in the distance. "Tell Orton to stop banging me with his shovel."

"Knock it off!" Fake Red Mask yelled. "Keep digging. We need to get out of here before the storms start."

"We'd better. This damn hole might fill up with water," Floyd griped.

Smiling at their trouble and bickering, Phinn moved around to the back of the crypt. Needing a better signal and a way to block the screen's light, he typed off a brief message to Johanna. As part of their agreement, the influencer wanted to be on the scene after they busted the criminals. With orders not to leave her house for another twenty minutes, Phinn directed the hyper girl to wait in her car in the cemetery's parking lot when she arrived.

When he finished, the scrawny teen hurried out of the rain. Inside, he found Jake lifting the blanket that covered the item they had stolen from the historical society.

"We'll start in fifteen minutes," Phinn said, referring to their plan. Then, he noticed his oldest friend's expression. "What's wrong?"

"I hope it's dried enough. Putting the blanket over it might have hurt."

"You know why we needed to cover it," Phinn reminded. "Besides, we got the quick-drying stuff."

"I hope so," Jake mumbled.

"Ready? Let's get it set up," Phinn announced, motioning for Jake to haul the item deeper inside the mausoleum.

Preparations took longer than they'd estimated. So, over twenty minutes later, Phinn made the final crawl out of the crypt. However, he had to move far away from Elbridge Jane's grave this time. Fortunately, there was a dip in one of the cemetery's hills about forty feet away. At that point, a crouching Phineas dashed across the walkway to the other side. Scurrying from this headstone to that monument, the slim detective worked his way back to the digging. The effort proved slightly more difficult as Phinn now wore a backpack. He and Jake had agreed on a ten-minute delay, which Phinn cut close by the time he could station himself close to Fake Red Mask behind a tall tombstone.

With the rain pouring down, Phinn nodded as he heard the men talking. They'd timed this perfectly.

"I hit something!" Orton announced.

"Where? Alright, this side must be close too," Garth responded, tapping his shovel head against the dirt.

"Be careful," Fake Red Mask growled.

Pulling his phone out, Phinn hit the send button.

"Ooooo-ooooo!"

"What the hell is that?" Floyd questioned, spinning around from where he stood outside the grave. He tried wiping the water from his eyes as he scanned the tombstones.

"T-This p-pl-place is haunted!" Garth stammered, dropping his shovel in fear.

"Shut up!" Fake Red Mask commanded. "There's no such thing as ghosts."

A crack of thunder and a flash of lightning added to the increasingly creepy ambiance.

"Ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo!" A longer ghostly moan sounded from the other side of the cemetery.

"It's coming from over there!" Orton pointed.

"Knock it off, and keep digging," Fake Red Mask ordered, even though he glanced over his shoulder, moving slightly to face the moan's direction.

"If it's real, we can hurt it," Kuhn declared, gripping his shovel as a weapon.

"Ooooo-ooooo!"

"There!" Garth shrieked.

Everyone turned as an eerie green glow appeared from inside the crypt. Another short moan sounded as the unthinkable slowly walked out of the mausoleum. Orton attempted to scramble out of the grave but slipped on the muddy side of the hole.

"The fuck!" Kuhn swore.

An old-fashioned diving suit plodded herky-jerky out from behind the crypt's door with its arms raised, pointing straight ahead. Every inch of its canvas suit and brass helmet glowed a ghastly green. Fake Red Mask's shotgun dipped as his jaw dropped.

"Look at its face!" Garth cried, noticing the greenish skull inside the helmet.

"Oooo-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo!" the phantom diver moaned before it turned into a cackle.

"Shoot it!" Kuhn ordered.

"No, don't anger it!" Garth squealed.

Fake Red Mask raised the shotgun with uncertainty. Despite his insistence that ghosts didn't exist, he could see the lumbering phantom with his own eyes. Sensing his moment, Phinn dashed around the headstone to come up from behind the masked gunman. Floyd and Kuhn's heads swung around toward the movement.

As another crack of thunder sounded in the distance, a crackle closer to the grave sounded faintly as Phinn flipped on the stun gun he'd borrowed from Johanna. With its own flash of electricity, the taser Phinn pushed into Fake Red Mask's back worked like a charm.

The masked man fell forward onto the ground.

A blast boomed through the soggy air, followed by a crunch.

"Whoops,' Phinn muttered as he saw the chunk of headstone blown off by the accidentally fired shotgun. Reaching down, he pulled the pistol from Fake Red Mask's belt.

The move occurred in time for Phinn to raise the gun as Burke Kuhn pulled himself out of the wet hole. Despite the drawn gun, the veteran criminal didn't bat an eyelash as he started to approach the teen detective,

"Fucking brats!" Kuhn shouted as Orton followed his partner's lead and crawled up from the hole. "See? I told you. If it's real, we can hurt it."

"Stop right there!" Phinn ordered.

"Why? You're not going to-"

BANG

The handgun roared as it jumped back in Phinn's hand.

"Ahh!" Kuhn yelled as he tumbled back into the open grave.

"On the ground... Now!" the bespectacled teen ordered, having trouble seeing through his wet lenses.

"Holy fuck! The brat shot Kuhn!" Garth exclaimed, looking down at the man who'd fallen next to him.

"What the hell happened?" Jake yelled over after taking off the brass helmet. The heavy relic landed in the soaked grass with a soft thud.

"It's okay. I shot Kuhn, but it's just a flesh wound," Phinn shouted over his shoulder.

"I'm not sure about that," Garth responded, checking the wounded man. "You hit his shoulder pretty good."

"Here," Phinn said, slipping the backpack off to toss it over to Floyd. "Use the rope inside to tie up Orton."

"Yeah, okay. Just watch that trigger, Farris."

After doing so, Phinn reached out with his foot to kick the shotgun away from Fake Red Mask. In his mind, he cursed himself for risking trouble by taking so long to perform the move.

"You coming?" Phinn yelled over his shoulder again.

"I'm trying! This suit's bulky as fuck," Jake responded, slowly moving his legs as he trudged his way over in the pouring rain.

A moan came from Fake Red Mask as he started to rise slowly. Phinn's foot slammed down on his back, putting a stop to the effort for now. Still, the teen had to wait for Jake to join him before he could do anything more.

"Yo, Garth, is Kuhn out of action, or will he be a problem?" Phinn called down.

"I think he's down. Why?"

"Grab his switchblade just to be sure. Then, you can climb out," Phinn directed.

Another three minutes passed excruciatingly slow for the pistol-holding teen. Garth followed Phinn's directions before climbing out. Holding out the switchblade, the teen directed him to toss it off into the grass far from everyone. As the knife vanished in the darkness, Jake finally joined his partner.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Jake challenged, motioning to the stun gun.

"Johanna. Boy, she's a sharp negotiator," Phinn commented. "We had to give up a lot."

"What do you mean we?"

"Well, she demanded a dinner and a date with you," Phinn revealed. "And it's a date somewhere besides a movie. She wants to be seen with you."

"And you agreed to that?" Jake demanded to know.

"Don't you think we needed the stun gun?" the brainy detective said, gesturing down at Fake Red Mask. "It will go fast, okay? Now, pick up the shotgun."

With another gun pointed at any potential trouble, Phinn fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Johanna would get the second call because Phinn had to hit a saved number he hated calling.

"Hello! Sorry about the wake-up call, Detective Gohl. What? Why, this is Phineas Farris! Wait, don't hang up! You better throw some clothes on and get out to Druid Hill Cemetery. Yes, in the rain. Oh, you also better have someone call the chief. Why? Because we caught Oswald Cozart's murderer. Geesh!" Phinn sounded, pulling the phone away from his ear.

"Is The Ghoul coming?" Jake asked.

"I'm not sure. He's pretty pissed off," Phinn said, shrugging. "Maybe we better have Johanna call 911 in case nobody around here heard the shots."

"That's probably a good idea. Kuhn needs an ambulance," Jake pointed out.

"Is there a problem, Floyd?" Phinn inquired, noticing how fidgety the recently released convict seemed.

"Whoa! We didn't do anything wrong. Don't sic the cops on us."

"Didn't do anything? You broke into the historical society and Regina's house!" Jake exclaimed.

"Which we won't be telling the EPD," Phinn announced, causing Jake to spin around to look at him. "Honestly, I don't feel like admitting we broke in tonight for a second time to borrow that diving suit. And if Jace and Regina want to press charges, that's their call. But this fake mask gives the Rattigans some reasonable doubt."

"Wha--Yeah, it does!" Garth realized.

"But you two owe us from now on," Phinn declared.

"Fine, Whatever," Floyd said dismissively. "Now, who the hell is that trying to impersonate me?"

"The guy who murdered Oswald Cozart over a music box?" Phinn queried, leaning down. Taking hold of the top of the ski mask, the teen yanked it off. "Say hello to Professor Davis Stensland!"

"Fucking meddling brats!" the European history professor spat.