Alumni Association

by Michael Rudolph

  “And how about I blame him for nearly destroying you and the firm?”

  “That’s in the past, so let it go.”

  “Look, you and Mom are going back down to Antigua on Monday. Suppose I go with you and help get Red Sky ready for the charter season?”

  “What makes you think that Gartenberg is on Antigua?”

  “Chord said so today, and the harbormaster at Nelson’s Dockyard texted me that his boat is back in its mooring.”

  “Is Sean coming with you?”

  “He can’t make it.”

  “When are you two getting married?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t asked him yet.”

  “And who’s going to watch the store if you come down with us?”

  “Mel Bergeraque. I appointed him co–managing partner yesterday.”

  “I must have been asleep when you consulted me on that one.”

  “He’s better at running the firm than I could ever be. Our little bureaucracy doesn’t faze him a bit.”

  Chapter 65

  Max was in his office marking up a lengthy brief written by several associates in the litigation department when Tripp Masters called him.

  “Max?”

  “Hey, Tripp. How’s it going?”

  “I’ve had better days. Got a minute?”

  “For you? Always!”

  “I resigned from the bench today.”

  “Oh, damn. I’m sorry to hear that, and I feel even worse that Chord turned out to be the Squad Leader.”

  “You guys did what you had to do. He did bad stuff and got caught.”

  “Is that why you resigned?”

  “The fallout from his case would have reached me eventually, and I couldn’t let that happen to me as a sitting judge.”

  “Well, you’re still a young guy, by my standards anyway. I bet half the law firms in Jersey would love to have you come on board.”

  “I’ll deal with that when I get back from Antigua.”

  “Excuse me? Say that again.”

  “You heard me, Max. I’m going down there to get that fat bastard for turning my nephew into a felon and a cripple.”

  “Have you been speaking to Beth?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “Because she just told me exactly the same thing.”

  “She’s going after Gartenberg, too?”

  “She’s coming down with Andi and me on Monday to help us get ready for the charter season, but Gartenberg’s her real target. She’s in serious payback mode.”

  “And so am I,” Tripp replied.

  “Has it occurred to you guys that Gartenberg also has revenge in mind, and I doubt he plays nice or fair?”

  “It has occurred to me.”

  “In that case, I guess I’ll deal in, too. Damn the torpedoes!”

  “See you in Antigua.”

  Chapter 66

  The sign over the entrance to the V. C. Bird International Airport on Antigua proudly welcomes everybody. Beth looked out the plane’s window and ignored it. This was not a pleasure trip for her, nor was it one for Max, sitting on the aisle next to her, nor for her mother on the aisle across from him. Beth was there for Gartenberg. They were there to prepare Red Sky for the charter season (and worry about their daughter). Their checked luggage contained two extra bags, one filled with fresh medical supplies for any offshore health emergencies, and the other filled with boxes of 12-gauge ammunition for the two pump-action shotguns Max kept on board. Some of the boxes contained tiny BB loads, because Max sometimes permitted charter parties to shoot clay pigeons off the stern.

  Other boxes contained 12-gauge flares for their flare pistol. Most of the ammo, however, consisted of magnum buckshot loads, kept on board as insurance against offshore attacks by twenty-first-century pirates down in the Caribbean.

  They unpacked as soon as they got on board Red Sky. Max and Andi then went topside to begin the ritual of checking everything for seaworthiness. As soon as they were both busy working on deck, Beth took her Glock out of her suitcase and secured it under the mattress in her stateroom. She had no intention of debating its presence with either Max or her mother. Then she took an electronic bug detector out of her backpack and thoroughly checked the boat’s interior for GPS trackers and listening devices.

  When she was satisfied that everything belowdecks was electronically sanitized and bug free, she meticulously cleaned and oiled the shotguns. Then she loaded their magazines with the magnum buckshot shells but left their chambers empty and with safeties on, a double protection that Max always insisted on. After securing the shotguns back in the firearms locker, she joined her parents topside to continue the preparation of Red Sky.

  For the next several hours, they worked together tightening, tuning, and adjusting the rigging and every shackle or turnbuckle connected to it. Like any sailors who must inevitably face the terror of an unforgiving sea, they sought to avoid the failure of man-made parts. Then, as the sun began to set, an airport taxi arrived to drop off Tripp Masters. After the hugs and handshakes were over, they walked into town for dinner.

  Chapter 67

  Early the next morning, Beth and Tripp decided to drive across Antigua to see firsthand what was doing with Tanks Banks moored over in English Harbour. Max and Andi decided to go along, adding their strengths to the hunt, but only after Beth and Tripp promised that they were heading out for reconnaissance purposes only: no confrontation with Gartenberg was intended, and a full breakfast was first on the agenda.

  They all got into Max’s SUV. Beth grabbed the driver’s seat, asserting she knew the roads best, and tried to start the engine. She was greeted with the sad click-click of a dead engine. Max quickly got one of the portable battery sets that the marina kept available and jump-started the car without much drama.

  Beth drove out onto All Saints Road, passed through the townships of Liberta and Cobbs Cross, and in nothing flat they were on top of Shirley Heights with its magnificent views looking down on Falmouth Harbour and English Harbour, two of the finest hurricane havens in the Caribbean. All available moorings in both harbors were filled with either luxurious cruising sailboats or sleek blue-water racing yachts preparing for Antigua Sailing Week, set to begin on Saturday with a gut-wrenching sailboat race around the entire island.

  They drove down into English Harbour, and Beth parked the car next to an open-air restaurant, where they had breakfast. Afterward, Max and Andi agreed to undertake the bureaucratic portions of the investigation and headed over to the customs and immigration office for an update on any recent filings by Gartenberg.

  Beth and Tripp walked over to pier H in the marina, where Tanks Banks had its berth three-quarters of the way down at slip 16. Beth unzipped the pocket in her backpack to access her Glock and felt vindicated for bringing it to Antigua when she saw Tripp bend down to reveal that he was carrying a handgun in an ankle holster.

  The two of them slowly approached the yacht, moored with its stern against the pier. She was a beautiful sailboat in the Hinckley tradition with a dark blue hull, matching blue sails, and a red cove stripe to accent the blue. Beth looked carefully for any indication that Gartenberg might be on board, ready to react if he was. She felt her heart beat faster as they got closer.

  There was no one topside, and as they examined her from the pier, they noticed a padlock on the companionway hatch, making it unlikely that Gartenberg or anyone else was inside. In addition, there was a FOR SALE sign stuck on the hatch with a telephone number to call in the event of any interest. Beth took a picture of the sign so she could check the number and then texted a copy to Sean.

  They were about to walk around to the other side of Tanks Banks when Beth heard a rapping sound from one of the forward portholes near the bow. She looked over and saw the frightened face of a young boy staring back at her from inside the boat. She pointed
him out to Tripp, who quickly called the police as she walked over to the porthole to calm the boy. While they waited for the police to arrive, Tripp walked around the pier inspecting the adjoining boats.

  Beth used the opportunity to take out the miniature GPS tracker she had brought with her and then looked around Tanks Banks for a secure location to hide it. She finally placed it under a wide teak handrail on top of the main cabin. It wasn’t visible to a casual viewer, and yet it was close enough for her to reach from the pier.

  When the police arrived to take charge of the situation, Beth and Tripp watched while the padlock on the hatch was cut and the boy was freed, holding on for support to the arm of one of the policemen as he struggled to get up the companionway ladder. He was no more than fourteen, maybe fifteen, years of age, and had several bandages on his left arm, one of which had bled through. He said his name was Roget and that he was from the island of St. Kitts.

  He told them that Tanks Banks was on St. Kitts last month and the owner hired him after eating at his mother’s restaurant where he was waiting on tables. The owner paid him to sleep on the yacht and take care of it when he was away. As far as Roget knew, the owner’s name was Mr. Gartenberg, he had another man on board called Lance, and a captain he called Richto, who didn’t speak much English. Roget didn’t know the last name of Lance or the captain.

  Roget was used to being locked alone on board for a day or even two at a time, but this was the third day and there was no food or water left on the boat. The head was stopped up, the TV broken, his arm hurt, and he was hungry and scared. He said he didn’t know where Gartenberg was or when he was coming back, but he thought he had a house on Antigua.

  He hesitated to explain the bandages until firmly encouraged to do so by one of the policemen. It seems that Mr. Gartenberg punished Roget when he didn’t like the way he took care of the boat. A couple of times he had hit him with a cane or twisted his arm until he cried. Upon hearing that, the policeman immediately called for an ambulance.

  When it arrived, Beth and Tripp decided it was time for them to leave since Gartenberg wasn’t there. Before going, Tripp asked the police if they had any idea where Gartenberg’s house might be. When he announced that he was a visiting judge from the United States searching for Gartenberg, they very respectfully offered to keep him updated with any information they got. One of the policemen gave Tripp a card with his name and number.

  Beth and Tripp stayed until Roget was placed on a stretcher and safely strapped inside the ambulance for transport to the hospital. They then walked off the pier and explored the rest of the marina, looking for anything even remotely relevant to their search for Gartenberg. The only thing they discovered, however, was how thirsty they became in the broiling sun, so they headed off for their lunchtime debriefing with Max and Andi.

  Chapter 68

  Beth arrived at the restaurant with Tripp to find Max and Andi enjoying mimosas at a table on the patio with a panoramic view of English Harbour in front of them flanked by views of the historic Nelson’s Dockyard on both sides. After they sat down and ordered lunch, Tripp began to review what he and Beth had seen, and Beth filled in the details about Gartenberg’s abuse of Roget. Her hatred of Gartenberg permeated the narration.

  While they were waiting for their orders to arrive, Beth checked her cellphone for messages and was surprised to see a text message from Luis Benetez. She opened it and was even more surprised by its contents: “Beth, I will be arriving with my father tomorrow morning on his yacht Madre de Oro. We would like to meet with you, Max, and Judge Masters. I can assure you that our goals are identical and that all we offer is assistance without any expectation or need for reciprocity. Please advise your convenience.”

  She passed her cell around the table so that Max, Andi, and Tripp could read it. After they finished, wondering how Luis even knew they were all on the island, their consensus was to agree to the meeting despite Andi’s proclamation regarding their cumulative and individual insanity.

  Max suggested that the venue be a public site, such as an open-air hotel restaurant near St. John’s, and Tripp recommended midafternoon as the best time. When Andi mentioned that she and Max were friends with the manager at the Starfish Hotel on Jolly Beach, only a short drive south from St. John’s, Beth had all the information she needed for her reply to Luis. She drafted a message and sent it to him, then sent a copy to Sean.

  They continued to speculate about the meeting during lunch. What could be so important that it got the senior Benetez to leave the friendly confines of Venezuela? Andi again questioned their sanity for agreeing to the meeting, now proclaiming it an “alliance with the devil.”

  High on Beth’s agenda were two conditions that had to be part of any deal with Benetez, since her goal was to catch Gartenberg and turn him over to the authorities for prosecution. First, that Gartenberg had to be turned over to the FBI in the same physical shape as caught, no extra punishment. Second was that the $35 million she had already attached must go to the Pendayans without any interference by Benetez. Tripp was also insistent that Chord’s safety be assured. Beth and Max naturally agreed, but doubted the value of any promises like that from Benetez.

  Between her grilled chicken Caesar salad and her “I’m definitely not having any!” bread pudding for dessert, Beth called the phone number on the FOR SALE sign she found on Tanks Banks. The call was answered by the digitized voice of a local yacht broker on an answering machine, so she hung up without leaving a message.

  After lunch, they considered rechecking Tanks Banks but instead drove back to St. John’s Harbour, stopping along the way at a nearby supermarket to do some provisioning for Red Sky. By 4:00 P.M., they were back on board, unpacking, and contemplating cocktail hour.

  * * *

  —

  Soon after the police and ambulance left Tanks Banks, Gartenberg got a phone call at his house from one of the assistant harbormasters detailing what had happened on board that morning. Gartenberg immediately alerted his captain and Lance. They packed the car and left the house for the short drive to the marina.

  Their arrival on Tanks Banks was followed by a flurry of activity as they unloaded a mass of provisions and prepared to leave Antigua quickly and permanently.

  By 6:30 P.M., they had finished checking equipment and were ready to leave. They began to cast off their mooring lines, and in a few minutes, the sailboat was under diesel power heading out into the crowded harbor. The hired captain was behind the wheel while Lance assisted Gartenberg with the sails.

  As Tanks Banks cleared the harbor and reached open water, her jib sail was unfurled and her mainsail was raised, soaring into the sky. Gartenberg then ordered his captain to shut off the diesel and head west. Her two sails ballooned with wind, and she surged powerfully and silently ahead into the choppy sea.

  * * *

  —

  When the policemen stationed at English Harbour made their regular patrol around Nelson’s Dockyard later that evening, they noted in their log that Tanks Banks was no longer at its mooring. They notified Tripp as soon as they finished their shift.

  Chapter 69

  Beth scheduled the Benetez meeting for 3:00 P.M. Andi thought that someone should stay behind to keep an eye on Red Sky, and nominated herself. Max didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone, so he also decided to stay. Beth suggested that Nikko and Luis Benetez might be more accommodating if two BMI alumni they knew were with her at the meeting instead of just one. Tripp agreed, but Max insisted on staying with Andi.

  Beth and Tripp left early for the meeting so they’d have time to familiarize themselves with the Starfish Hotel’s layout. They arrived at the hotel, walked around the property, and finally selected a corner of a large open-air terrace overlooking the Caribbean for their meeting. They sat down with their backs to the wall, in two armchairs forming part of a seating area that included a cocktail table and several other armc
hairs. Beth felt it might be a little melodramatic, but Nikko Benetez was an unknown to her, except by reputation.

  Shortly before three, Beth saw a beautiful motor yacht, easily sixty or sixty-five feet in length, enter the harbor with a uniformed captain standing smartly at her bridge. As she neared the hotel, her speed slowed to a crawl and the name Madre de Oro became legible in script on her bow. She inched toward the hotel’s dock, stopped completely, and then began moving sideways using her bow thrusters, finally floating motionlessly alongside. On the captain’s command, two uniformed crew lowered a ramp, threw down lines, and secured her to cleats on the dock.

  In a few minutes, Nikko Benetez and his son, Luis, came down the ramp. Except for the age difference, they could have been twins, both tall and rugged looking. Beth had never met either of them in person, although she had spoken to Luis several times on the phone. Tripp knew them both and they knew him, beginning with Nikko during their cadet days together at BMI and then Luis from sailing classes he taught in the eighties before BMI closed.

  Tripp stood up and waved at them with a cordial smile of recognition. They returned the wave and continued to walk off the dock toward Beth and Tripp on the terrace. When they reached them, both Nikko and Luis greeted Tripp with hugs, followed by handshakes for Beth as Tripp introduced her to them.

  As soon as they were seated, a hotel waiter came over and took their drink orders. Their conversation began then with the cordial but adversarial exchanges fundamental to the start of any serious business negotiation. Beth and Luis traded their favorite attorney war stories while Tripp reminisced with Nikko about their good old days at BMI.

  It was Nikko that signaled the end of the chitchat and the real beginning of the meeting. “I’m a little disappointed, Beth,” he began. “I thought Max would be here.”