Buoyancy by Tim Wright
Bumbling gangsters Norm and Lefty try to dispose of a body in Tampa Bay, but things don't go as planned.
Norm watched the corpse bobbing by the boat in the moonlit bay and remembered an old high school science class, the one where they made an egg float by putting salt in the water. Lefty reached out with the boathook and gave Mantini's body a hard shove. It went under, then returned to the surface like ice cubes in a rum and coke.
"Thought you said this was gonna be easy." Norm poked Lefty and flicked his cigarette butt into Tampa Bay.
Lefty rubbed his forehead as if it were a magic lamp with all the answers inside. "I dunno. He's supposed to sink. They all do." He stopped rubbing his head. "Every stiff I dumped in the Detroit River sank." He turned and looked up at Norm, his tight, untucked shirt climbing his round belly. Colorful birds and panda bears frolicked across Lefty's gut between the words "Extinction is Forever" and "Busch Gardens". He had bought the shirt, the baggy khaki shorts and the flip-flops as souvenirs. The dark paisley socks were the same ones he wore when they left Detroit for this little combination job-and-vacation trip.
"This one ain't sinking." Norm lit another cigarette and tossed the spent match over Lefty's head at Mantini's body.
"I dunno." Lefty shrugged, his voice getting whiny. "In Lake Erie, I just dump 'em and they disappear."
Norm thought about high school science again and reached a long arm over the side to the water. Then he touched his fingers to his tongue and slapped Lefty over the ear. "Dipstick, this is salt water."
"So, it's salt water."
"So, he ain't gonna sink. Just like when the Mormons discovered they couldn't sink in Salt Lake." Norm put his hands on his hips, sharp elbows making his tall, lanky frame look diamond shaped.
"What's being morons got to do with not sinking?" Lefty tried mirroring Norm and succeeded in looking more like a little teapot.
"Means you'll never die of drowning, that's what." Norm clenched his teeth and saw movement in the corner of his eye. "Get the goddamn boathook. He's floating away."
Lefty grabbed the boathook and reached out to snag Mantini's belt. He pulled the body back to the boat. "So what are we gonna do?"
"Got to weigh him down. That's why I told you we needed a couple of cinderblocks."
"Where we gonna find cinderblocks out here?" Lefty scanned the horizon. The lights of Tampa and the St Petersburg pier glimmered silently at them from each side of the Bay. The baritone rumble of a passing boat broke the silence, its dark silhouette outlined by the pinpoints of its running lights.
"Let's get him out of the water before somebody sees him." Norm spat his cigarette out and leaned over the side of the boat. "We got to think of something."
The two men wrestled the corpse across the gunwale to flop onto the deck. This was supposed to be an easy job. They fly down from Detroit to Tampa for a week, and in between doing the tourist act, they make Mantini disappear like Jimmy Hoffa. Everything had started out right. Lefty hid in the back of Mantini's car, slipped a length of clothesline around the pudgy ratfink's neck when he got in, and strangled him. The guy didn't make a peep.
Then things stopped going right. After Norm pushed the body across the seat and climbed in to drive the car away, his legs wedged under the wheel. Mantini was a sawed-off runt, and Norm's lanky six-six frame wouldn't fit. He tried releasing the tilt steering to gain some space. After he honked the horn once, ran the washers and wipers, and flashed the high beams twice, he decided that Mantini's car didn't have tilt steering after all. Knees braced against the underside of the wheel, he slammed the door shut and grabbed the seat adjustment. The front seat shot back and gave Norm's legs some space, but it squished Lefty, still hiding on the floor in back.
Only five or six people in the parking lot had turned to stare as Lefty went through his inventory of cuss words. The one lucky break was Mantini's body lurching to the floor when the seat moved back. The witnesses saw only Norm's bony face and Lefty's clenched fist pounding the front seat as the car sped from the parking lot and headed for the marina.
Norm hotwired an inboard motorboat, and as he piloted, Lefty explained how easy it was going to be. Just let the body sink, and the current would carry it away. Tampa Bay might not be as big as Lake Erie but there was plenty of room, and this was his first trip to Florida, and besides, they got sharks and things down here, and they get hungry, too, so why not feed Jaws? Lefty thought that was especially funny.
Norm told him to shut up. He cut the engine and looked at the receding coastline.
Lefty said they were far enough out and wrestled Mantini's body over the side, then the Detroiters learned their first lesson in buoyancy. Things float better in salt water, especially pudgy wiseguys.
Norm stared now at the drenched corpse sprawled on the deck. Lefty had left the clothesline wrapped around its neck, and a loose end trailed like a leash. He wished he had a good set of tire chains and a jukebox like the old timers. Hell, he'd settle for a sack of cat litter and five more feet of clothesline.
Lefty began rummaging through the compartments and cabinets in the boat's tiny cabin. "Gotta be something here to weigh him down." He opened a lower compartment and pulled out two six-packs of beer in long neck bottles. "They got beer, and it's Bud." He straightened up and bumped his head on an open door. "Ow, I got an idea." He rubbed the back of his head and walked toward Norm.
"You always got to rub your head to make it work?" Norm raised an eyebrow.
Lefty's hand stopped in mid-stroke. He lowered it slowly, his eyes boring a couple of holes in Norm's face. "I'm rubbin' it 'cause it hurts, Normy."
Norm cocked an eyebrow. "You know, it'll stop cramping up if you use it more often."
Lefty balled up his fist. "Quit makin' fun of my brain."
"Or what?" Norm stepped close and looked down at him. He reached for the small of his back, where he had tucked his pistol into the waistband on his pants.
"Or, or..." Lefty's eyes darted around the boat. Norm had made him leave his gun back at the hotel because nobody wears an ankle holster with shorts. Lefty reached behind himself to steady his balance, and he grabbed the anchor off the cabin's roof. "Maybe I'll just slug you with this."
Norm stared at the anchor in Lefty's hand. "You know what you got there?" He let his hands fall to his sides.
Lefty stared at his weapon until he recognized it. A grin flashed to his face and dimpled his cheeks. "Let's use the anchor." He held it up like a trophy. "Anything big enough to hold this boat oughta hold Mantini."
Norm poked at the two small flukes on the chromed anchor. It looked too small. "I don't know if it's heavy enough."
"Sure." Lefty stepped to the body and put the anchor in the corpse's hands, lashing it in place with the excess clothesline.
"How much is it? Ten pounds?"
"It's an anchor." Lefty looked at him as if the word were the answer to all their problems. "C'mon, help me heave him over."
This time the body floated face down, the small waves of the Bay occasionally lapping over the humped back.
Ten minutes later, Mantini's body was back on the deck and Norm was untying the anchor. "I think he's doing this just to piss me off." He kicked the body and tossed the anchor aside.
"We shoulda drowned him." Lefty nodded. "People always sink when they drown."
"That's what kills them." Norm rolled his eyes and went into the cabin. "Their lungs fill up and they go -" He froze and turned to meet Lefty's eyes.
"Let's fill him up." Lefty's grin had returned. He grabbed a bucket and scooped up a load of water. "Hold his mouth open for me."
Three bucketloads later, Norm waved his hand at Lefty. "Stop. It's not going down his throat. You're just splashing water all over the goddamn place."
Lefty upended the bucket and sat on it.
"We need a funnel or something to run it down his throat." Norm saw the two six packs and snapped his fingers. "Get the beer."
Lefty followed his eyes. "But it's warm."
"It ain't for us." Norm pulled the corpse to a sitting position. "Those bottles are small enough to stick down his throat and put it where we want it."
Lefty watched as Norm uncapped a bottle and forced the mouth down the body's throat. Mantini's head lay tilted back, the upended bottle buried to its shoulder between his teeth.
"Hey." Lefty's eyes brightened. "It's working."
Norm watched the bottle with an appraising eye as it drained into the body. "Got to work smart." He pulled the empty bottle out and tossed it over the side. "Mantini's still thirsty."
"Sure." Lefty slapped another bottle into Norm's open hand. "Hope it don't take both six packs. I could use a brewski after we're done."
"We'll just have to see." Norm wedged the second bottle in place.
A light flickered across them, then settled onto Norm's back. The corpse's teeth glowed in the shadow.
"Ahoy, there." The voice carried the metallic tone of a bullhorn.
Lefty looked into the white glare, eyes wide. Norm yanked the bottle from the body's mouth and looked over his shoulder. A white motorboat bearing the diagonal green stripe of a deputy sheriff floated ten yards away, pinning them with a searchlight, motor idling with a muscular rumble.
Norm smiled. Everything was going just wonderful, ducky. This had to be his lucky night. After all, it could have been the Navy or the Coast Guard stopping by instead of just a goddamned sheriff's deputy.
"You gentlemen doing all right?" The bullhorn voice drilled into Norm's head, but at least it sounded polite.
"We're OK." Lefty shaded his eyes and peered at the deputy.
"How about your friend?"
Norm cradled Mantini's head as if he were holding an infant and showed the half emptied beer bottle to the searchlight. "Had one too many, I guess. He's getting married tomorrow, and, you know." He shrugged.
"And you?"
"I'm the designated driver." Norm's cheeks ached from having to hold this shit-eating grin for the cop.
"Keep an eye on the buoys. You're drifting toward the shipping channel." The searchlight mercifully swung away to point out a channel marker.
Norm peered into the darkness and saw the yellow light shining from a red and white floating marker. "Thanks. Guess we better call it a night and head in."
The chainsaw buzz of a jet ski followed by a second rolled across the water toward them, and the cop turned his head in that direction. The noise ratcheted up to motorized shrieks.
"Drive carefully, gentlemen." The deputy revved his throttle and turned in the direction of the jet ski noise.
Lefty wiped his face. "Jesus, that was close."
Norm went to the console. "We're getting the hell out of here, and that cop gave me an idea."
"You always drive careful."
"The shipping channel, dipstick." Norm glared at him. "We're going way the hell out into the Gulf and dump that stiff. If Mantini wants to float, then he can just float all the way to Cuba." He crossed the ignition wires, and the engine made only a single chugging noise. He crossed the wires again and nothing happened.
Lefty wrinkled his brow.
"Now what?" Norm growled as he walked back and opened the hatch to the engine compartment. He poked his head inside. "Can't see a damn thing."
Lefty pulled a disposable lighter from his pocket and held it out.
"You crazy?" Norm pushed his hand aside. "It stinks of freaking gasoline down there." He reached in and felt around. "I think we got a loose connection on the starter motor. Go up there and cross those wires when I tell you." He waved at the console and lay prone on the deck, both arms down the hatch and probing among the cables and hoses.
"Like this?" Lefty grabbed the loose wires under the console.
"Wait!" Norm snapped, and saw the cable in his hand shoot sparks onto the engine block. A thud sounded and flames licked at the edges of the hatchway. Norm rolled away and rubbed his face where his eyebrows were supposed to be.
"Fire," shouted Lefty as he dashed toward his partner.
"No shit." Norm rose to his hands and knees. This was a perfect job, a regular milk run.
"There's no extinguisher." Lefty's head pivoted on his neck. The flames grew to reach several feet above the open hatch.
"Think we got enough water handy to put it out?" Norm smiled with a lot of teeth.
Lefty snatched the gun from the back of Norm's pants and fired three times into the engine compartment. The slugs opened generous holes in the hull and the inrushing bay water hissed and steamed, billowing white clouds through the hatchway as the orange glow faded.
Lefty beamed at him, gun hand still extended at the engine compartment as the boat began to tilt. "Who needs a fire extinguisher with all this water?" He chuckled. "That's working smart, Normy."
As the rear of the boat hunkered down into the Bay. Norm patted Lefty on the cheek. "You're about as sharp as a bowling ball." He snatched the pistol from his hand. "Now we're sinking." His lip curled in a snarl and he tossed the gun overboard.
The happy expression dropped from Lefty's face. "Oh."
"But now we got something heavy enough to hold that stiff down. Give me a hand."
They stuffed the corpse into the engine compartment and Norm stomped the hatch shut as the water washed onto the deck. Several seat cushions bobbed on the surface. The two tied the straps together and floated as they watched the boat go under.
Norm washed his face with Bay water as he leaned on their makeshift float. He still had a few bristles left of his eyebrows. The lights of Tampa reflected off the rippled water and low clouds drifted across the night sky.
"Told you it was gonna be easy." Lefty nudged him, a knowing smile dimpling his cheeks.
Norm glared at him and saw a length of clothesline in the water. Mantini's body bobbed to the surface like ice cubes in a rum and coke.
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| Image generated with OpenAI |
"Thought you said this was gonna be easy." Norm poked Lefty and flicked his cigarette butt into Tampa Bay.
Lefty rubbed his forehead as if it were a magic lamp with all the answers inside. "I dunno. He's supposed to sink. They all do." He stopped rubbing his head. "Every stiff I dumped in the Detroit River sank." He turned and looked up at Norm, his tight, untucked shirt climbing his round belly. Colorful birds and panda bears frolicked across Lefty's gut between the words "Extinction is Forever" and "Busch Gardens". He had bought the shirt, the baggy khaki shorts and the flip-flops as souvenirs. The dark paisley socks were the same ones he wore when they left Detroit for this little combination job-and-vacation trip.
"This one ain't sinking." Norm lit another cigarette and tossed the spent match over Lefty's head at Mantini's body.
"I dunno." Lefty shrugged, his voice getting whiny. "In Lake Erie, I just dump 'em and they disappear."
Norm thought about high school science again and reached a long arm over the side to the water. Then he touched his fingers to his tongue and slapped Lefty over the ear. "Dipstick, this is salt water."
"So, it's salt water."
"So, he ain't gonna sink. Just like when the Mormons discovered they couldn't sink in Salt Lake." Norm put his hands on his hips, sharp elbows making his tall, lanky frame look diamond shaped.
"What's being morons got to do with not sinking?" Lefty tried mirroring Norm and succeeded in looking more like a little teapot.
"Means you'll never die of drowning, that's what." Norm clenched his teeth and saw movement in the corner of his eye. "Get the goddamn boathook. He's floating away."
Lefty grabbed the boathook and reached out to snag Mantini's belt. He pulled the body back to the boat. "So what are we gonna do?"
"Got to weigh him down. That's why I told you we needed a couple of cinderblocks."
"Where we gonna find cinderblocks out here?" Lefty scanned the horizon. The lights of Tampa and the St Petersburg pier glimmered silently at them from each side of the Bay. The baritone rumble of a passing boat broke the silence, its dark silhouette outlined by the pinpoints of its running lights.
"Let's get him out of the water before somebody sees him." Norm spat his cigarette out and leaned over the side of the boat. "We got to think of something."
The two men wrestled the corpse across the gunwale to flop onto the deck. This was supposed to be an easy job. They fly down from Detroit to Tampa for a week, and in between doing the tourist act, they make Mantini disappear like Jimmy Hoffa. Everything had started out right. Lefty hid in the back of Mantini's car, slipped a length of clothesline around the pudgy ratfink's neck when he got in, and strangled him. The guy didn't make a peep.
Then things stopped going right. After Norm pushed the body across the seat and climbed in to drive the car away, his legs wedged under the wheel. Mantini was a sawed-off runt, and Norm's lanky six-six frame wouldn't fit. He tried releasing the tilt steering to gain some space. After he honked the horn once, ran the washers and wipers, and flashed the high beams twice, he decided that Mantini's car didn't have tilt steering after all. Knees braced against the underside of the wheel, he slammed the door shut and grabbed the seat adjustment. The front seat shot back and gave Norm's legs some space, but it squished Lefty, still hiding on the floor in back.
Only five or six people in the parking lot had turned to stare as Lefty went through his inventory of cuss words. The one lucky break was Mantini's body lurching to the floor when the seat moved back. The witnesses saw only Norm's bony face and Lefty's clenched fist pounding the front seat as the car sped from the parking lot and headed for the marina.
Norm hotwired an inboard motorboat, and as he piloted, Lefty explained how easy it was going to be. Just let the body sink, and the current would carry it away. Tampa Bay might not be as big as Lake Erie but there was plenty of room, and this was his first trip to Florida, and besides, they got sharks and things down here, and they get hungry, too, so why not feed Jaws? Lefty thought that was especially funny.
Norm told him to shut up. He cut the engine and looked at the receding coastline.
Lefty said they were far enough out and wrestled Mantini's body over the side, then the Detroiters learned their first lesson in buoyancy. Things float better in salt water, especially pudgy wiseguys.
Norm stared now at the drenched corpse sprawled on the deck. Lefty had left the clothesline wrapped around its neck, and a loose end trailed like a leash. He wished he had a good set of tire chains and a jukebox like the old timers. Hell, he'd settle for a sack of cat litter and five more feet of clothesline.
Lefty began rummaging through the compartments and cabinets in the boat's tiny cabin. "Gotta be something here to weigh him down." He opened a lower compartment and pulled out two six-packs of beer in long neck bottles. "They got beer, and it's Bud." He straightened up and bumped his head on an open door. "Ow, I got an idea." He rubbed the back of his head and walked toward Norm.
"You always got to rub your head to make it work?" Norm raised an eyebrow.
Lefty's hand stopped in mid-stroke. He lowered it slowly, his eyes boring a couple of holes in Norm's face. "I'm rubbin' it 'cause it hurts, Normy."
Norm cocked an eyebrow. "You know, it'll stop cramping up if you use it more often."
Lefty balled up his fist. "Quit makin' fun of my brain."
"Or what?" Norm stepped close and looked down at him. He reached for the small of his back, where he had tucked his pistol into the waistband on his pants.
"Or, or..." Lefty's eyes darted around the boat. Norm had made him leave his gun back at the hotel because nobody wears an ankle holster with shorts. Lefty reached behind himself to steady his balance, and he grabbed the anchor off the cabin's roof. "Maybe I'll just slug you with this."
Norm stared at the anchor in Lefty's hand. "You know what you got there?" He let his hands fall to his sides.
Lefty stared at his weapon until he recognized it. A grin flashed to his face and dimpled his cheeks. "Let's use the anchor." He held it up like a trophy. "Anything big enough to hold this boat oughta hold Mantini."
Norm poked at the two small flukes on the chromed anchor. It looked too small. "I don't know if it's heavy enough."
"Sure." Lefty stepped to the body and put the anchor in the corpse's hands, lashing it in place with the excess clothesline.
"How much is it? Ten pounds?"
"It's an anchor." Lefty looked at him as if the word were the answer to all their problems. "C'mon, help me heave him over."
This time the body floated face down, the small waves of the Bay occasionally lapping over the humped back.
Ten minutes later, Mantini's body was back on the deck and Norm was untying the anchor. "I think he's doing this just to piss me off." He kicked the body and tossed the anchor aside.
"We shoulda drowned him." Lefty nodded. "People always sink when they drown."
"That's what kills them." Norm rolled his eyes and went into the cabin. "Their lungs fill up and they go -" He froze and turned to meet Lefty's eyes.
"Let's fill him up." Lefty's grin had returned. He grabbed a bucket and scooped up a load of water. "Hold his mouth open for me."
Three bucketloads later, Norm waved his hand at Lefty. "Stop. It's not going down his throat. You're just splashing water all over the goddamn place."
Lefty upended the bucket and sat on it.
"We need a funnel or something to run it down his throat." Norm saw the two six packs and snapped his fingers. "Get the beer."
Lefty followed his eyes. "But it's warm."
"It ain't for us." Norm pulled the corpse to a sitting position. "Those bottles are small enough to stick down his throat and put it where we want it."
Lefty watched as Norm uncapped a bottle and forced the mouth down the body's throat. Mantini's head lay tilted back, the upended bottle buried to its shoulder between his teeth.
"Hey." Lefty's eyes brightened. "It's working."
Norm watched the bottle with an appraising eye as it drained into the body. "Got to work smart." He pulled the empty bottle out and tossed it over the side. "Mantini's still thirsty."
"Sure." Lefty slapped another bottle into Norm's open hand. "Hope it don't take both six packs. I could use a brewski after we're done."
"We'll just have to see." Norm wedged the second bottle in place.
A light flickered across them, then settled onto Norm's back. The corpse's teeth glowed in the shadow.
"Ahoy, there." The voice carried the metallic tone of a bullhorn.
Lefty looked into the white glare, eyes wide. Norm yanked the bottle from the body's mouth and looked over his shoulder. A white motorboat bearing the diagonal green stripe of a deputy sheriff floated ten yards away, pinning them with a searchlight, motor idling with a muscular rumble.
Norm smiled. Everything was going just wonderful, ducky. This had to be his lucky night. After all, it could have been the Navy or the Coast Guard stopping by instead of just a goddamned sheriff's deputy.
"You gentlemen doing all right?" The bullhorn voice drilled into Norm's head, but at least it sounded polite.
"We're OK." Lefty shaded his eyes and peered at the deputy.
"How about your friend?"
Norm cradled Mantini's head as if he were holding an infant and showed the half emptied beer bottle to the searchlight. "Had one too many, I guess. He's getting married tomorrow, and, you know." He shrugged.
"And you?"
"I'm the designated driver." Norm's cheeks ached from having to hold this shit-eating grin for the cop.
"Keep an eye on the buoys. You're drifting toward the shipping channel." The searchlight mercifully swung away to point out a channel marker.
Norm peered into the darkness and saw the yellow light shining from a red and white floating marker. "Thanks. Guess we better call it a night and head in."
The chainsaw buzz of a jet ski followed by a second rolled across the water toward them, and the cop turned his head in that direction. The noise ratcheted up to motorized shrieks.
"Drive carefully, gentlemen." The deputy revved his throttle and turned in the direction of the jet ski noise.
Lefty wiped his face. "Jesus, that was close."
Norm went to the console. "We're getting the hell out of here, and that cop gave me an idea."
"You always drive careful."
"The shipping channel, dipstick." Norm glared at him. "We're going way the hell out into the Gulf and dump that stiff. If Mantini wants to float, then he can just float all the way to Cuba." He crossed the ignition wires, and the engine made only a single chugging noise. He crossed the wires again and nothing happened.
Lefty wrinkled his brow.
"Now what?" Norm growled as he walked back and opened the hatch to the engine compartment. He poked his head inside. "Can't see a damn thing."
Lefty pulled a disposable lighter from his pocket and held it out.
"You crazy?" Norm pushed his hand aside. "It stinks of freaking gasoline down there." He reached in and felt around. "I think we got a loose connection on the starter motor. Go up there and cross those wires when I tell you." He waved at the console and lay prone on the deck, both arms down the hatch and probing among the cables and hoses.
"Like this?" Lefty grabbed the loose wires under the console.
"Wait!" Norm snapped, and saw the cable in his hand shoot sparks onto the engine block. A thud sounded and flames licked at the edges of the hatchway. Norm rolled away and rubbed his face where his eyebrows were supposed to be.
"Fire," shouted Lefty as he dashed toward his partner.
"No shit." Norm rose to his hands and knees. This was a perfect job, a regular milk run.
"There's no extinguisher." Lefty's head pivoted on his neck. The flames grew to reach several feet above the open hatch.
"Think we got enough water handy to put it out?" Norm smiled with a lot of teeth.
Lefty snatched the gun from the back of Norm's pants and fired three times into the engine compartment. The slugs opened generous holes in the hull and the inrushing bay water hissed and steamed, billowing white clouds through the hatchway as the orange glow faded.
Lefty beamed at him, gun hand still extended at the engine compartment as the boat began to tilt. "Who needs a fire extinguisher with all this water?" He chuckled. "That's working smart, Normy."
As the rear of the boat hunkered down into the Bay. Norm patted Lefty on the cheek. "You're about as sharp as a bowling ball." He snatched the pistol from his hand. "Now we're sinking." His lip curled in a snarl and he tossed the gun overboard.
The happy expression dropped from Lefty's face. "Oh."
"But now we got something heavy enough to hold that stiff down. Give me a hand."
They stuffed the corpse into the engine compartment and Norm stomped the hatch shut as the water washed onto the deck. Several seat cushions bobbed on the surface. The two tied the straps together and floated as they watched the boat go under.
Norm washed his face with Bay water as he leaned on their makeshift float. He still had a few bristles left of his eyebrows. The lights of Tampa reflected off the rippled water and low clouds drifted across the night sky.
"Told you it was gonna be easy." Lefty nudged him, a knowing smile dimpling his cheeks.
Norm glared at him and saw a length of clothesline in the water. Mantini's body bobbed to the surface like ice cubes in a rum and coke.
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