by Fred Galvin
I spent a few minutes summarizing my career with plenty of emphasis on cases in which Ronnie had played a key role in closing, especially as her experience grew. I was careful not to mention anything about the Finacci affair, not knowing how much, if anything, Ronnie may have shared with her mother. I concluded by mentioning my retirement from the NYPD and my keeping busy with Double-D Investigations.
Delyse listened intently and asked several questions, none of which were of the out-of-politeness category but rather they seemed backed by a genuine interest into her daughter’s professional career. When I was done she unfolded her legs, leaned forward closer to me, and took my hands in hers. He usually intense black eyes softened.
“Yes, Ronika told me of your retirement and the unfortunate passing of your dear wife. What a tragedy, losing her just as you were to embark on your retirement years together. I’m so sorry.”
I had not expected those words and her sincerity touched me. I had to work hard to control my emotions. “Thank you. Yes, it all came about suddenly. Jen and I had many good years together and we were looking forward to many more. I do miss her. Ronnie was a great comfort to me and provided me support beyond friendship. Your daughter is a warm and caring person and, from your kind comments, I think I can see where that comes from.” Our eyes held each others for a few beats and we both took sips of our drinks.
I leaned back in my chair. “Okay Delyse, your turn in the barrel. Tell me about the Flip Flop Lounge and how you came about being its queen, and I want to here it all from the beginning. Your daughter has been very mysterious about her personal history over the years. Hell, I didn’t even know her homeland was Jamaica until recently. I hope that learning your story can shed some light on my partner’s. That is if you’re inclined to share such details.”
She leaned back and smiled. “Yes, I am so-inclined. As I said, Ronika can be strong and independent and it doesn’t surprise me to hear what you have said. So, you wish to know about the Flip Flop and my ascent to the throne as its queen. Well, it’s been a rather long and winding road.”
“I have plenty of time. I’m on vacation, sitting in an open-air establishment with tropical drinks, jerk meatballs, and in the company of a beautiful and intriguing woman. Where else would I want to be?” Wow! I surprised myself with that. Evidently Delyse was impressed as well or perhaps just surprised. Anyway, as she thanked me for the compliment and went on to tell me her story.
“When my late husband bought the original Sea Nymph it was not sea worthy. The previous owner had neglected its condition for years until it had to be taken out of the water or it would have sunk. Brandon restored it and started booking small charters, nothing formal. They weren’t enough to support our new family.
“My Uncle Brantly was chief of the small Montego Bay Police Department and to supplement our income I took a job at the MBPD working various jobs, dispatcher, administrator, just about everything else he didn’t do.”
“So, now I’m beginning to see how police work is in Ronnie’s genes.”
“I’ll get to that part. We lost the original Sea Nymph during Hurricane Gilbert in 1988. Hundreds died. We were lucky to survive. Fortunately, we had taken a modest insurance policy out on the boat which was enough for us to build upon and a year later we bought a used vessel from a woman who had inherited it from a relative in Miami. Brandon and Roje worked hard to make it into an income producing charter boat and Deveaux Charters was born. During that time we managed to survive on my small pay from the MBPD. It was very difficult. After a couple of years the charter business began to show profits. Now Roje is thinking about the possibility of adding a second vessel.”
I grinned. “Don’t tell me … with Ronnie captaining the second boat now that she has her sea legs?”
“That’s not as far-fetched as you may think. Since she returned here she has shown great aptitude working as his crew on charters and has learned how to operate the Sea Nymph. However she is also becoming very involved in the day-to-day administration of the business. So at this point she may go in either direction. There is no rush. This turn-about is a bit of a surprise to me because she never really had any interest in the business. She always leaned toward the law enforcement field, hanging around the MBPD with me and the chief. He took her out on a few cases and she was hooked.”
“How did she end up in New York? I know she attended the academy there but she never really told me the path she took to get there. Like I said, she kept her personal life very close to the vest.”
“I will get to that. I do not want to stray too far into revealing more than she may want me to. That will be up to you two to discuss. But I don’t think she would mind my sharing some aspects with you.”
Delyse seemed relaxed and at ease. I was enjoying learning more about this woman. Something in the suppressed vaults of my emotions was telling me to find out all I could about her. While it was brand new, I hoped perhaps this relationship could go somewhere. That thought caused me to feel pleasure, trepidation, and a small degree of guilt. Pleasure because this may be an opportunity to end my loneliness and be happy again. Trepidation because it was very new and I had to be careful. I tried to suppress the guilt knowing Jen would want me to move on and be happy.
I wanted Delyse to continue. “So, you and Brandon were enjoying some success with the charter business. How did your involvement in the Flip Flop Lounge come about?”
“I mentioned that my uncle was the Montego Bay police chief when I worked there. He was widely respected and did a good job with very limited resources. Crime rates in certain sections of the city were high due to unemployment, gang issues, and the impact of drugs and guns coming together in the wrong hands.
“Originally the Flip Flop Lounge was no more than a tiki bar out here by the beach. It had been literally blown away by storms but always sprang back again. Uncle Brantly liked the location and came by to relax with a drink after a trying day. Often I would join him, especially if Brandon was out on the boat. Eventually upon his retirement he negotiated purchase of the tiki bar and brought me with him to run the daily operations. I guess he was impressed with my dispatching skills at the MBPD.”
She smiled a dazzling smile that lit up her face and drew me closer yet. She was becoming very difficult to resist, not that I was trying very hard. Actually I wasn’t trying to resist at all.
“Within two years we had grown to what you see now. Our location was perfect for the area which was expanding commercially. It was full time work for me.” Then she turned suddenly somber. “One night, just before closing, a man entered, pulled a gun, and without a word shot my uncle dead. He then turned the gun on himself.”
“Jesus! Were you there? Did you witness the shooting?”
“Oh, yes, I was behind the bar. It all happened in a matter of seconds. It turned out that the man was someone Uncle Brantly had arrested for domestic violence. He was convicted and sentenced to five years in prison. Right before he came into the lounge and killed my uncle he had shot his estranged wife and her boyfriend. It was terrible.”
“That must have been very difficult for you to get past. Where was Brandon?”
“He and Roje were working on the Sea Nymph in the marina here. They heard the shots and people screaming and came running. I was trying to revive Uncle Brantly but it was no use.”
She paused, obviously reliving those terrible moments. Then she composed herself and continued.
“Anyway, Uncle Brantly had a will, of course, given his profession. He had been living alone. His wife had abandoned him and left the island a few years earlier. It turned out he left the Flip Flop Lounge to Brandon and me free and clear. I was shocked. Suddenly I was co-owner of this establishment. I knew the day-to-day tasks necessary to operate it but was not savvy as to the more subtle ins and outs that only come with experience. With Brandon’s help, we hung on and kept the Lounge going.”
She excused herself and went to the ladies room. It couldn’t have been easy for her to
relive those memories. Sitting alone, I tried to comprehend dealing with such a turn of events, witnessing the brutal murder of a loved one and suddenly assuming the responsibilities of running a business.
I had seen my share of violence in my career, even had to shoot someone once. Ronnie and I were on the second day of a tedious stakeout when our target, a suspected murderer, suddenly showed up, spotted us, and bolted. We chased him, Ronnie pursuing behind him while I went around the block to cut him off. Not a mental goliath, he turned a corner of a building and hid behind a dumpster in a dead-end alley. Ronnie followed protocol and called for backup while blocking his exit. When she was distracted by a person in a window above her trying to see what the commotion was about, the perp took advantage and attacked her, overpowering her and taking her weapon. I came upon the scene as he was aiming the gun at Ronnie. He had a look in his eyes that told me he was far from rational and that I could not reason with him.
I pulled my Glock, identified myself, and told him, “Drop it, Randy. I’m only saying it once. Drop it now!” He pointed the gun at me and squeezed off a round that clanged off a fire escape ladder a foot from my head. He turned to run, where I don’t know because the alley was a dead end. But he had a gun and had already shot once so I had no choice. I pulled the trigger twice. My first shot hit the dumpster and the second hit him in his ass. He screamed, went down face first, Ronnie’s Glock clattering to the pavement. It actually turned darkly humorous as he reached to grab his rear-end screaming, “You shot me in the ass, you asshole!”
My adrenalin levels were probably as high as they had ever been but somehow I managed some sarcasm. “Well, at least I only have one asshole, Randy. Now you’ve got two.”
Randy lived and Ronnie credited me for saving her life, which may have been a bit of a stretch, but maybe not. I was pretty shook up. Many detectives go an entire career without discharging their firearm. That was the only time I fired mine and it took a while to process the incident. I tried to imagine how I would have felt if I’d have killed him and I came up empty.
At the precinct I was given the nickname, “Asshole Sharpshooter.” I never knew if the “Asshole” part was meant to be a noun or an adjective. Ronnie had asked me how I had managed to stay calm enough to just wound him in the ass.
“I’ll confide in you. It was a lucky shot. All I wanted to do was drop him so he couldn’t shoot either one of us.”
Delyse returned to the table totally composed and freshened but still not smiling and, as far as I could tell, still not touching the floor. I figured there was more to the story. She had mentioned that her husband Brandon had passed away ten years earlier. I imagined that that part of her tale was now coming.
She took a long sip from her drink. “Where was I?”
“You and Brandon were making a go of it with the Lounge after your Uncle Brantly had willed it to you.”
“Yes, thank you.” She paused, seemingly collecting her thoughts. “As I said, I knew enough to run the operation day-to-day and was learning the rest while Brandon was concentrating on turning over the charter business totally to Roje.”
I was tempted to ask where Ronnie fit into all of this since she ended up in New York as my partner but this was Delyse’s story to tell at her pace. She must have been reading my mind. This woman had powers. I needed to be careful of what I was thinking.
“Meanwhile, Ronika had not developed the desire to participate in the family business. She had tagged along with me frequently when I worked with Uncle Brantly at the MBPD. She had a knack for asking him questions about cases that were deeper than one would have expected from a young girl. She even gave him ideas on a couple that led to closing them.
“She helped him with clerical tasks but didn’t just file papers. She read the case books and showed keen interest in what he had to do to handle them. Uncle Brantly discussed with me the possibilities of promoting her aptitude and talent in the field. He had a contact in New York who looked into possibilities and proposed she study social sciences with an eye toward criminology at the University of the West Indies in Kingston here in Jamaica.
“Since Kingston is on the southeast coast and we are on the northwest coast, she lived and studied on campus. She thrived and matured rapidly, getting her degree in less than three years. Uncle Brantly’s New York contact was influential in helping her get accepted to the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York City. I suspect you know the rest.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Delyse, you give me much more credit than I deserve. As I said earlier, Ronnie was never one to expound on her personal life. I did know that she went to John Jay and the academy but I learned that from our captain, not from her. She merely confirmed it when I mentioned it to her. She was known as something of a phenom as an intern and rookie in the department with regard to investigative skills. I guess the captain thought enough of my mentoring to assign her to me for development. She and I had such a good rapport that we just stayed together all those years...” I chuckled again “… during which I learned almost zero about her personal life. I knew she was compassionate, intelligent, and enjoyed an adult beverage with the precinct crowd, but that was it. I always respected her boundaries and never pushed her to reveal anything she didn’t want to.”
Delyse stirred her drink with her straw. “Interesting.” She didn’t expound on that comment and I let it go. She paused a bit and I suspected she was choosing how to continue. “Six years ago Brandon and Roje were out alone on the Sea Nymph scouting a new fishing location. When my cell rang with Roje’s number I somehow knew it was bad news. Over the roar of the engine he said Brandon had collapsed and he was bringing him in as quickly as possible. By the time he reached the marina I had a paramedic team waiting but it was too late. Brandon had suffered a heart attack and was gone.”
“I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible for you, Roje, and Ronnie. Come to think of it I remember Ronnie taking some time off rather suddenly. As usual she didn’t share any details and by that time I knew better than to pry.”
“Yes, she was down here the next day.” She paused, sighed, maintained her composure, and continued. “It was difficult but we all moved on. Roje took complete control of the charter business and hired a couple of part-time helpers. Ronika offered to come home permanently but Roje and I would not hear of it. She had her career and we insisted we could make a go of it. If we needed her, we’d let her know. I was doing well running the Lounge and business was good. I have an accountant I trust and he has been a special help since Brandon passed.”
I still didn’t know if she was aware of the real reasons why Ronnie was back home for good. Roje certainly knew but it could be that they had not revealed it in order to spare their mother any angst. A mother hearing Mama, I was a gambling addict and, with Roje, was complicit in a man’s death could have an impact on her feelings toward her daughter, at least initially.
I hoped to find a discreet way to ask Ronnie but I was sure it would probably come out as, So, does your mother know why you suddenly retired from the NYPD to come down here and get into the charter business? Subtlety is not my strong suit.
We had one more round and spoke of a wide range of subjects from the Yankees to the Jamaican Olympic bobsled team. She had actually had heard of the Yankees; How do you play baseball in the middle of Manhattan? and ditto for me about the bobsled team; How does a team practice bobsledding here in the tropics?
The evening ended pleasantly. She walked me back to my room, her arm in mine. “I enjoyed this evening. I hope you have a very pleasant stay here in my country, Dan.”
“I’m sure I will.” I took both her hands in mine and turned to face her. “It’s already off to a very pleasant beginning. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
I made no move to kiss her, feeling again like I was twelve at the end of my first date, and I didn’t want to blow it. She resolved that moment by planting one on my cheek. The look in her eyes said Play your cards right and there may b
e more where that came from.
“Good night, Dan.”
“Good night, Delyse.”
Chapter 11: “… a six-figger sum.”
The Whyte brothers owned a small boat, a Boston Whaler Montauk model just over fifteen feet in length overall with a narrow seven and one-half foot beam. The sixty horsepower Mercury outboard motor was capable of moving the empty craft with one occupant up to forty miles per hour on calm seas which got Gillian Whyte to Cabo Cruz on Cuba’s southern most tip in just over two hours, in the early morning.
However just after dark, when loaded with two crates of guns weighing in at nearly 400 pounds, the best he could do was twenty miles per hour over the then rougher waters back to Montego Bay. It took him nearly five hours to make the ninety mile trip. The motor ran relatively quietly and with no running lights, and no full moon, the Whaler was almost invisible. It was the third run in the past four weeks, two by Gillian and one by Vernon who had to work his “other job” which meant Gillian drove most of the more lucrative gun runs.
“Lucrative” in that context did not carry the usual definition for that term. Supplemented by Vernon’s more legitimate income, which barely paid their bills, it meant they could sustain themselves. After fuel for the boat, their modest pot habits, and rent for the shack they lived in, they did just a bit better than break even.
Their contact for these runs was a short, cigar-chomping stubbly-bearded man with beady eyes known to them as T-Bone Bonefede. Neither brother could make any connection between the name and the man but, no matter. T-Bone came and went sometimes alluding to “other action in the Caribbean.”
