The Lure of Mystery
by
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"Well, I got out to the jetty tip really early yesterday, I left home at midnight. I felt restless an' charged up after doin' nothin' all weekend, so away I went. There was no one out there when I got there. I baited up, threw in, got a cup a coffee, an' relaxed. The moon was half full, the stars were out, it was silent except for the sound of the sea suckin' around the rocks, the oil rigs were blazin' with lights, an' I thought it was a hell of a nice way to live. "Anyway, along about 2:30, 3 a.m., this guy shows up with a'nother one of those great big surf-fishin' poles. He wasn't the same guy who was out there the Monday before, but his rod an' reel were about the same. He started throwin' big jigs just like the other guy did an' he wasn't very friendly either. "Just before this other guy shows up, I'd been throwin' that big jig I found I told you about. It was really too heavy for my rod, but I heaved it out an' wound it in until I was gettin' pretty tired of throwin' it when I sagged it on somethin' on the bottom. I couldn't pull it loose an' I didn't want to loose it so I put my pole down an' left the jig out there in the water, thinkin' I might try divin' for it after the sun came up. Well, there wasn't much to do with my big jig snagged so I just sat down an' leaned back against a rock an' sorta dozed off. I'd done that before so it wasn't a big deal. "It's so peaceful out there, an' quiet, at night, I really went to sleep. I woke up yawnin' an' stretchin', looked at my watch an' found I'd been asleep almost an hour. I stood up an' looked around. That guy was still there an', off to the left, that big boat was out there again. I didn't think too much about it. I picked up my pole to see if it was still snagged on the bottom, because sometimes the movement of the water frees a jig, but not very often. I just hated to break off that big jig I'd found. "Well, I pulled on my line an' damn if it wasn't free, but it felt heavy as if I'd hooked some seaweed or somethin'. I started reelin' in wonderin' what in hell I'd hooked into? I was out quite a ways so it took me some time comin' in slow like that. "Anyway, I liked to've jumped outa my shoes when I reeled in a great big barracuda with that big jig I'd found hooked in its jaw. I wasn't only surprised because I'd hooked a big barracuda, I was surprised because the damned thing seemed t'be dead. I thought, how in the hell could I hook a dead barracuda in the jaw? I was standin' there holdin' the big barracuda up by the jig, lookin' at it, when wham!, that guy out there punched me in the face without any warnin'. Down I went with the B'jesus startled outa me an' hurtin' like hell. I couldn't believe it. I didn't realize at first that the guy hit me. I got to my feet, holdin' my face, lookin' at that guy wonderin' what in the hell was goin' on? Well, that guy didn't wait. He slugged me again an' I went down again. I was lucky. I fell on a flat rock I was standin' on. A fall on those rocks can really hurt ya. "I stood up again, my face hurtin', kinda dizzy too, but madder 'n' hell. I was all charged up by then so I didn't feel them punches as much as I would later. I'm in damn good shape even if I'm an old guy an' I used to know how to fight so I face that guy figurin' I'd better go for broke because I didn't know why he was after me or what I'd done to make 'im hit me. "I had a quick impression of a young, dark haired, tough lookin' guy as he came at me again. We didn't have much room to move around in on those rocks an' a guy could get killed if he fell an' hit his head, so I put my fists up as he came at me. He swung at me an' I ducked, grabbin' 'im. We kinda wrestled around standin' up, me tryin' to hold 'im, an' him tryin' to belt me again. Well, I's still pretty strong, as old as I am, an' he didn't get loose right away, but he did finally so I hit 'im in the nose. He staggered a little then pow, pow, pow. He really let me have it. I went down an' out. When I came to he was gone an' so was my big barracuda an' that big jig I'd found. "By this time I was really in bad shape. My face hurt an' I could hardly walk. I managed to get my gear together an' start back off the jetty. I took it as easy as I could, tryin' not to fall down an' hurt myself some more. "Well, that jetty seemed about fifty miles long that mornin', but I got about to the beach when I met some guys comin' out an' asked 'em if they would help me. They did an' took me to the beach, then called the police. None of us could believe what had happened to me. I told the guys who helped me all about it an' they just shook their heads in disbelief. None of them had seem anybody come off the jetty so the guy got clean away. "The paramedics took me to the hospital for a check then I went home an' went to bed. "Mr. Holmes called me on the phone an' here I am. That's what happened. I still can't figure it out. I didn't do a thing I know of to make that guy punch me out like that an' steal my fish an' my jig." Abner Holbrook looked at the three of us as if we could tell him at once why he had been beat up and his fish and jig stolen. Holmes just slouched in his chair, his hands behind his head, eyes half closed, staring at the ceiling, but Angie and I looked at each other, then back at Abner. The old man had told us a great story and we were caught up in it. I just sat there, letting Abner's story digest for a moment. Holbrook studied Holmes for a moment, then he looked at me with raised eyebrows when Holmes just sat there silently. I asked, "Did you see a name or number on that boat, Mr. Holbrook?" "Nope, too dark, an' too far away, an' anyway, I didn't even think of it." I continued questioning him. "Could you identify the man who attacked you if you saw him again?" "Maybe, but I don't really think so. It was dark an' I only got a glimpse of 'im."
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About the Book
THE LURE OF MYSTERY IS ANOTHER HANNABLE HATHAWAY HOE MYSTERY. A retired old man, an avid fisherman who spends a lot of time out on the west jetty protecting the entrance to Alametoes Bay, Long Beach, California, gets beat up at the end of the jetty by another fisherman who steals a big fish from him. Turlock Holmes sees an article in the newspaper about the incident, becomes interested, telephones the old man, and invites him to Hannable Hoe's office. The old man, whose name is Holbrook, meets Hannable and Turlock, who listen to the story of how he got beat up on the end of the jetty. The story doesn't add up to Turlock, so he and Hannable decide to investigate the case for Holbrook for free. One of the oddest things about Holbrook's story is the fact that the big fish he caught was already dead when he reeled it in. At the time, he was using an unusual lure that he found snagged in the rocks when he was skindiving a few days before. And, why did the thug who beat him up take the big fish and the unusual lure Holbrook had found snagged in the rocks?!
About the Author
Robert James Warner was born and raised in Long Beach, California, where he attended school. He was drafted into the Navy on March 9, 1944, during World War II as soon as he finished his last semester in high school. He was discharged from the Navy on June 16, 1946. Mr. Warner went back to school, Long Beach City College, on the GI Bill, taking mechanical engineering, then switching to journalism. After about a year and a half at City College, he quit. Mr. Warner had always been interested in writing, but he had huge handicaps to overcome: he couldn't spell (he still can't), and grammar was then and is now a mystery to him. Mr. Warner first began to write when he was about 20. During the next few years, he wrote some songs, poetry, and short stories, but his output was quite low. From 1947, after Mr. Warner left City College, to 1950, he had a number of different inconsequential jobs, the longest at Douglas Aircraft in Long Beach where he worked in the blueprint department for eight months. He then quit and loafed awhile. In 1950, he enlisted in the Active Naval Reserve as a Week End Warrior so he could learn seamanship and get paid doing it. He has had a life-long love affair with boats (building his own) and fishing. About three months later, the Korean War started and Mr. Warner was called back to active duty in the Navy Aircorp for a year, getting discharged in August 1951, serving on three aircraft carriers, operating off Korea in the China Sea, and bombing and strafing the communists! After Korea, Mr. Warner went back to City College for awhile, then he got a job on a freighter as a deckhand and made two trips to the Hawaiian Islands (about 30 days round trip), hauling bulk sugar for C&H Sugar in Crocket California on the Sacramento River. Leaving the ship in Crocket, he went to Santa Rosa, California, where he washed dishes in some restaurants and got a poem published in the local newspaper–a big day in his life. Next, he went to Yosemite and washed some more dishes, and then he went home. Mr. Warner has cleaned chicken dung from under the pens; owned and operated his own auto wrecking yard; owned his own 2nd Store; was half owner of a yacht landing; speculated in real estate; and worked at some other odd jobs, going to work for the Long Beach Fire Department in 1953 for the next 26 years and retiring in October 1979. Mr. Warner married in 1961, had a son in 1963, and then divorced in 1973. In 1974, Mr. Warner and his son, Jeff, drove to Alaska during the summer. On his return, Mr. Warner wrote his first novel. Since 1974, Mr. Warner has written thirty-one novels, about 125 short stories, two Civil War books, and two poetry collections.