Was there a connection locally to the underworld activities happening in neighbouring countries?
***
The two men who had met the previous night in an Anglican parish church’s car park, met again at 8:15 p.m. for their second night at a different venue agreed on earlier that afternoon. The location? Another Anglican church’s compound, this time in the eastern part of Barbados.
They parked their vehicles side by side, but the visitor exited his vehicle and joined the Barbadian in his.
The Barbadian understood the purpose behind this second meeting. It was to enable them to finalise discussions on and set in-train appropriate arrangements for a future ongoing relationship between himself and the visitor’s organisation.
The visitor, on the other hand and unknown to the Barbadian, intended a vastly different outcome for tonight’s meeting.
“Good night,” said the visitor.
“You too, man. How you doing?” asked the Barbadian.
“Fine. You?”
“I’m cool…had a trying day, you know, because of yesterday’s incident.”
“Problems? You’re under pressure?” asked the visitor.
“Not really. Nothing I’m not used to or can’t handle. Look, why you chose to meet here, man? I’ve never been comfortable in or around churches or cemeteries,” stated the Barbadian who was growing more restless.
“Nor me. It’s a good place for us to have our final discussion –”
“And for you to hand over the rest of my money!”
“Of course,” responded the visitor.
“Let’s finish up our business so I can get away from here and you can grab yourself a nice hotel dinner,” said the Barbadian looking over his right shoulder.
When he turned around to face the passenger sitting in the front seat of his vehicle, he was shocked to see a handgun being pointed at him.
“Hey, take it easy man! What’s that for? I thought we were here to finalise our future relationship, not play games. I’m not the snitching or telling type,” rambled on the Barbadian, certain that his life was in danger. He realised that this was no longer just about gaining a few extra dollars on the side to help set him up for his old age.
“Here’s the rest of your payment,” said the visitor, slipping another white envelope into the driver’s lap as he opened the front passenger door and exited the vehicle. “Drive over there…under that tree.”
“Why? Just leave me alone man. Here, take back your money. I want out of our arrangement, right now okay. I’m leaving this place,” said the Barbadian as he turned on the vehicle’s engine.
“Too late. Drive over there slowly and don’t look around,” the visitor commanded, gun pointing at the Barbadian’s head from outside the vehicle.
Terrified, the Barbadian reluctantly did as he was told. He stopped under the tree. He did not know where the man who had sat in the passenger seat of his vehicle a minutes earlier was.
Where’s he gone? Perhaps he’s changed his mind and won’t hurt me, the Barbadian was thinking.
Regaining a little composure but still nervous as hell and fearing for his life, the Barbadian decided to exit his vehicle, intent on making e a run for it. As he opened the driver’s door, he heard the visitor’s voice.
“Stay in the vehicle…and close that door,” the visitor ordered.
The Barbadian slapped his head. “Idiot,” he said softly. Had he been thinking he would have driven away the vehicle as fast as he could.
He’d heard the visitor’s voice but could not establish his location. Only the driver’s window was open. Was the visitor somewhere to his right or near the rear of the vehicle? As he wondered what might happen next, he sensed a movement in the darkness and comprehended something bright – a flash.
Everything around him went dark.
The Barbadian never realised that after exiting his vehicle, the visitor had applied a silencer to the gun he was holding before calmly firing a shot that had caressed the cool night air on its way through the opened driver’s side window before residing in the right side of the Barbadian’s temple.
His phone rang a few seconds later. He did not hear it. Nor would he ever answer his phone again.
***
Mrs Alanya Telford wondered why her husband had not answered his phone. It was long past the time when he would normally have arrived home from HMP Dodds. His boss, Superintendent Innis had called home asking to speak with George on a couple of occasions, first around 5:40 p.m. and then a couple of hours later, but all she could tell him on both occasions was that George had not gotten home yet.
Mrs Telford decided to sit on their front patio and await his arrival. There had to be a reason why George had not even called home. He was known for lying to her, so his explanation would be interesting whenever he got home.
***
The visitor calmly removed the silencer from the Glock model 17 Gen 4.9mm handgun before placing both into his jacket pocket. He then opened the driver’s door to re-enter the vehicle. He wound up the driver’s side window, leaving enough space for some air to come in. He then reached over and similarly cracked the passenger’s front window before carefully proceeding to professionally wipe down the vehicle. Anyone watching would think he must have done this before because he was so smooth in carrying out this exercise. They would have been right (and thankfully, no one was watching).
The visitor then set the deceased Barbadian to look as comfortable as possible, not that it mattered anymore. Finally, he withdrew the handgun from his pocket with a gloved hand and placed its handle in the Barbadian’s lifeless right hand. As expected, the gun fell out of his hand, coming to rest just under the driver’s seat and so out of immediate sight of any peering eyes. Using a bright penlight held in his other gloved hand, the visitor and former front seat passenger retrieved the shell from the fired bullet that was lying on the ground beside the vehicle and dropped it by at the Barbadian’s feet inside the vehicle who now appeared to be asleep.
Sharp law enforcement officers would subsequently investigate the incident and question what appeared to have been a deliberate effort to make it look as if the driver had taken his own life in this quiet, almost secluded spot on a country church’s compound. Would they be able to prove that this was the case?
Luckily for the visitor, no one had entered the immediate area around the church’s compound since he and the Barbadian had arrived. Given its location, discovery of the parked vehicle and the man inside of it was unlikely until the following morning.
Before returning to his hired vehicle, the visitor placed three further $100 bills into the white envelope. He then lodged it beside the Barbadian’s phone in the driver’s side door pocket. This sought to set up the Barbadian in a particular way once he was found.
Or so the visitor thought! Despite his cover-up efforts, he made one simple but careless mistake.
When he had first bent over to position the driver’s body, the visitor did not realise that one of his two south coast hotel room keys had fallen out of his wallet and lodged under the driver’s seat. He had received two of these on his arrival at the hotel after checking in. As was his custom when travelling, he had placed his room keys in his wallet before leaving his hotel room. He would only realise that one of them was missing later when he returned to his room.
***
Having reached their conclusions, the four diplomats built a hypothesis through which each of them had parts to prove or disprove by 4:00 p.m. the following day. They departed for their respective homes contented, having agreed to meet again the next night in the above car park behind the Welches, Christ Church shopping complex thirty minutes after its 9:00 p.m. closing time. It was a public place but would not be busy at that time of night. They would be able to discuss their findings in peace. Then, if further work on their leads was still required to confirm their findings, they could use some of the weekend for this. In any event, transmission of their respective up-graded reports to their
capitals would then take place at mid-day on Monday.
They would watch with interest to see if Barbados’ security agencies could resolve these matters by then.
***
Given what Castille had learnt late that afternoon, tomorrow would see him intensify his search for Power. Finding Power ASAP would enable him to accomplish the task that he had been set by The Organisation. Failure was never an option for him – he would get that scumbag, although it would now be more difficult than before. He’d find the rock under which Power had disappeared. Securing the funds owed to The Organisation was imperative.
As he sought to enter his room, Castille realised that one of his room keys was missing. Damn, he thought. Once inside, he made a detailed search and realised that it was not there. He had lost it. There was nothing he could do about that now, so he would report its loss when he was checking out. He wondered, but did not think that his lost room key could be traced back to him until after he had left Barbados in another two or three days.
Having earlier pre-ordered a late room service delivery to his room, Castille tipped the waiter generously and sat down to enjoy his meal. His earlier action that evening did not hamper his appetite.
***
It was around 10:20 p.m. when the occupants of three vehicles left Pei’s house, satisfied that they had a renewed handle on all that was now in play across Barbados’ criminal underworld. Their counterparts in other capitals would be invited to comment on any recent significant criminal activities undertaken by gangs in their areas which mentioned or even suggested further contact with their Caribbean associates. This would form part of their ongoing work over the next year or two.
But one of the three persons driving away was unhappy. Zoe Markowitz, Consular officer at the British High Commission, had to do her ‘day job’ tomorrow at the Test Match, in case any consular-related incidents cropped up with any of the four thousand British supporters, media or officials who would be at or around New Kensington Oval for Day 1 of the game. As the originator and lead-player at the High Commission for its consular event response plan (CERP), Markowitz was expected to be present. As for her ‘other’ role, that of being the High Commission’s MI6 officer, a fact only known to High Commissioner Tullock, getting out of what she had just agreed to do tomorrow was going to be tricky. She decided to call on her Consular assistant, Barbadian Barbara Lane, to cover for her during the Day 1’s pre-lunch session. Markowitz would feign slight illness between 8:00 a.m. and 12:30 p.m. but would go to the office nonetheless to follow-through on her task.
Markowitz was a cricketing enthusiast and was very much looking forward to watching as much of the five days of the Test Match as she could. She had met both sets of players at the High Commissioner’s reception the previous night so now wanted to see them in action. But as she had more important work to do, her hopes for the Test Match were not all going to be fulfilled. Would the two English players she had spoken to at length be able to play the game as well as they had been at chatting her up?
***
The WhatsApp exchange was unexpected but timely. It came from Barbados and was received in Miami, USA.
“Change of plan. Can’t make your town, so come to mine.”
“Okay. Same time?”
“Can’t work. Have to attend a European conference then.”
“Suggestion?”
“In Sunday. Out Monday.”
“Deal. Will u collect.”
“No…but look out for a very tall, dark and handsome figure.”
“All American pizza-man.”
“The one + only.”
“Agreed.”
The WhatsApp exchange ended. To the uninitiated, the above conversation made no sense. It was probably two old friends cryptically jive-talking. The communicators sex was unknown and unimportant.
To people in their line of work, the exchange was clear and understood by both of its participants. Once things went as planned, a twenty-four-hour visit to Barbados from Sunday afternoon to Monday afternoon should cement the proposed relationship between their USA-based and Barbados-based Caribbean entities. The absolute necessity for the meeting to take place now, rather than in another fortnight in Miami as earlier agreed, had nothing to do with Power’s escape from the clutches of Barbadian law enforcement agencies. Rather, it was about the ‘bigger fish’ they were preparing to fry.
Pilessar would be in and out quickly, being accommodated at the home of her Barbadian host located on the east coast, where their discussions and at least a preliminary agreement would be worked out.
***
Power kept himself pretty quiet and below deck during the overnight sea journey from Barbados. He was an excellent swimmer, so was comfortable at sea and not worried by the constant bobbing of the powerful ice boat he was on as it made its way across the Caribbean Sea. His ‘sea legs’ were on. Having grown up not far from the seaside, Power had been a frequent visitor to the beach from early childhood. At weekends, he’d go with his father and uncle on one or two-day trips from their Bridgetown Fishing Complex base in Old Faithful, the family’s fishing boat. Though many people would have been afraid to be out on the open sea after nightfall, Power was comfortable. In fact, he felt somewhat emboldened, knowing that he had departed Barbados, having escaped its law enforcement agencies. A return to HMP Dodds was not on the cards and so he was looking forward to starting a new life in another country. Technology was good, but the way he envisaged setting himself up after laying low for a while, he’d felt certain that he would be difficult to find, once he kept himself away from direct engagement with any law enforcement agencies in the new country.
Power’s decision that afternoon to grow his hair long (into locks eventually) and a beard in his new country made sense. Changing one’s facial features by surgery was not a readily available option. As that would cost him a lot of money he did not have at this time. He’d heard that a semi-retired plastic surgeon spent six months of the year (November to April) on Mustique, but that doctor had returned to his Boston, Massachusetts home earlier this year, so that option was out anyway. Power doubted that his fellow underworld colleagues would spend money to change his appearance. Getting him away from Barbados was as much as he’d expected them to do for him.
So, he would eat heavily to put on as many pounds as quickly as possible and grow a beard and long hair. These would be the tools he could utilise to alter his appearance within a couple of months. This would not make him a different person from the man who had just left Barbados, but it would make him feel like a new person by the end of June.
Hopefully, the Miami-based outfit known as The Organisation would also forget about him. He knew that the Barbados law enforcement agencies would not. Because of this, he would have to be very careful where he was seen and what he did going forward.
***
Chapter Fifteen
Test Cricket…and Back Channels
FRIDAY, 20 APRIL
New Kensington Oval’s head groundsman, Orwell ‘Orrie’ Moore arrived at the stadium just as dawn was breaking. Shortly thereafter, his crew also arrived. They commenced making their final preparations for the Test Match over the next two hours before the ground would be opened to the public. An hour after the groundsmen had arrived, the caterers, security and media people started to do so. Television, radio and the print media including photographers arrived later.
The weather forecast for Friday and the next three days were all set to be fine – long days of sunshine, blue skies, twenty-nine degrees centigrade and above all…no rain. A few showers were predicted during the overnight hours of Sunday and Monday which might affect Days 4 and 5, but hopefully not much.
Punctually at 7:30 a.m. the gates of New Kensington Oval opened to supporters of both teams, all lovers of Test Cricket. The several lines of patrons at New Kensington Oval’s various gates wrapped themselves around the stadium, suggesting a bumper crowd would be in attendance on Day 1.
***
Magnus Hunter GCM, was a retired former Head of the Barbados Public Service, Cabinet Secretary and Permanent Secretary in the Ministry of Defence & National Security. He had been trying to call Colonel Burke, once his protégée, at home since early that morning, without any success. Admittedly, he’d not called either Colonel Burke’s personal or official mobile numbers, deliberately so.
Eventually, Hunter got hold of Diane Burke. She advised him that her husband had long left for the office. She’d been out for her daily constitutional (a forty-five-minute walk) when he’d called earlier. Hunter explained that he had to speak with Colonel Burke as soon as possible on an important matter. Could he come over to their house in a couple of hours? Also, could she get Colonel Burke to return home without letting him know why he was returning? Diane knew Hunter well enough to pick up that he must have something worthwhile to tell her husband. She agreed to play along, confident that Hunter would not ask her to do this unless it was absolutely necessary.
Colonel Burke and Hunter usually met once a month for old time’s sake, usually over a meal at Colonel Burke’s home in an effort to maintain their thirty-year-long friendship. When they deemed it necessary, they also met ‘on demand’ to discuss matters of interest to both of them. They called these back-channel meetings.
Why did Hunter want to speak to Colonel Burke? He had noticed the recent developments in the country with growing alarm. He’d also been made privy to some scraps of information from credible sources which he wanted to personally convey to Colonel Burke. Hunter’s knowledge, insight into defence, national security and criminal matters remained as ‘on point’ as they were while he was a top public servant. If anything, his vast contacts base had grown following his retirement. Having more time on his hands and making use of available technology made this possible.
Hung Out to Dry Page 24
