by Paula Lennon
Preening his chest, the commissioner started off by denouncing the assault on Lester Chin Ellis and then informed the viewers that he had called for a complete review of all lock-ups in each parish. Preddy groaned inwardly. Not this again. He imagined that at that very moment a chorus of outrage was echoing throughout all the police stations on the island. Everyone already knew the state of the lock-ups and no complete islandwide review was remotely necessary.
Some of the smaller stations were so old they were burgled repeatedly as thieves easily made their way in by prising rotten iron bars from the windows or removing rusty zinc from the roof, and leaving with any electronic equipment they could find. A few stations had CCTV cameras in lobbies, cells and interview rooms. Those fortunate enough to have them regularly complained that they malfunctioned, froze or showed grainy images. A lot of stations, particularly the rural ones, did not have even one CCTV camera anywhere on the premises. There was not one single station that had not previously reported shortage of space, broken furniture and crumbling ceilings.
The detective clearly recalled that a complete review had been ordered two years ago when a policewoman in the parish of Hanover had fallen through a rotten ceiling and landed in an interview room downstairs, surprising both the interviewer and the suspect bag-snatcher, who moments earlier had uttered the fateful words “Jah lick me down if a lie me a tell!” Terrified, he had confessed his guilt after picking himself up and dusting himself off. The shocked policewoman had ended up in hospital for two weeks with a broken ankle, fractured rib cage and multiple bruises.
Most of the public would be appalled to see the conditions under which the men and women who were charged to protect and serve spent their time. Preddy thought about the new mahogany desk that was placed on the detectives’ open-plan floor the day before Sean Harris arrived from Glasgow. Everyone had their eyes on it, but it was promptly allocated to the secondee along with a matching chair. The only reason the white man did not get his own office was due to the lack of space. The detective was thankful that his team had not responded negatively to this open display of favouritism. Instead they treated it as a joke and discussed whether bleaching their skins and sending photos to the commissioner could get the whole station refurbished.
Camera lights flashed as the commissioner declared, “Our main responsibility is to make sure we have an effective and efficient police service in this island. We want the public to have confidence that we are here to protect and serve them, and that what happened in Pelican Walk early this morning is not the norm in St James or anywhere else in Jamaica. We will be looking at what needs to be done to avoid any further repeat, what training has to be implemented and how much it will cost. We already have a comprehensive approach to policing and we will build upon it. Rest assured that we will monitor the performance of the entire Jamaica Constabulary Force to ensure that the agreed objectives are being met.”
A reporter whom the commissioner did not recognise challenged him. “Commissioner, what is going to happen to those officers who cannot or do not comply? Year after year, the public complains about police behaviour and yet no officers ever appear to be dismissed.”
“As you must know, the JCF operates under considerable pressure for many reasons, not least of which are budgetary restraints and the need to make significant savings. There would be no point in us jumping to dismiss officers and then using taxpayers’ money to pay wrongful or unfair dismissal lawsuits. Legal representation does not come cheap.”
The commissioner turned away from the reporter and focused his attention back on the amassed gathering. “We are fully committed, fully committed, I say, to maintaining high performance levels despite internal and external challenges faced by officers.”
Another reporter whom the commissioner did recognise got to his feet. “Commissioner, would you say that overall the public have begun to lose confidence in the police service?”
“No, Edwin. You and I have discussed this before,” he replied. “We will keep pursuing our goal to reduce crime levels and ensure that people feel safe and satisfied with the service we provide. The Jamaican people must know and accept, however, that we cannot effectively do our work without public support.”
“Are you ready to charge anyone with the assault on Lester Chin Ellis?”
“That investigation will be concluded as swiftly as possible, of that you can be sure,” said Commissioner Davis confidently. “Persons will be interviewed in a timely manner and statements will be taken.”
“What about the murder of Carter Chin Ellis? Can you tell us anything about where you are with that?”
The commissioner looked at the superintendent, who quickly leaned towards his microphone. “At this time we have no comment to make as the investigation has just commenced,” said the superintendent. “What we would like to repeat is our sincere heartfelt condolences to the Chin Ellis family on their tragic loss. As the commissioner said, we cannot do our jobs without the public, and I would invite any member of the public who has any information on the matter to contact the police in confidence.”
Preddy felt a twist in his stomach as he wondered whether a scapegoat would eventually be needed in this instance and whether they would come after him again. Maybe they would get him this time. Gaining notoriety as a police officer in Jamaica was one thing, attracting the attention of the international media was quite another. It was true that the high command would not want to fight legal battles with their officers, but they were not above reaching a private compromise with officers they wanted out of the force. As a high-ranking detective, Preddy’s position meant the world to him and everything else jostled for a secondary position. Even when he was not physically at work, his mind was usually on the job. He was by no means ready to be pensioned off or otherwise disposed of. He would have to nail the murderer of Carter Chin Ellis.
CHAPTER 5
Monday, 20 July, 8:00 a.m.
Morning dawned blue and bright, giving no indication that all was not well in Montego Bay. The start of the working week was an ordinary day for many, but for the detectives who worked around the clock it would be yet another hectic day. Although it was only 8 o’clock, the sun was already making its intense presence felt. Having managed to fit in an early morning jog, Preddy had returned home to steep a handful of ganja leaves in boiling water with a dash of sugar. Now he could feel the adrenalin pumping through his veins, reminding him that his passion for the job would never diminish, whatever the challenges.
Preddy drove the six short miles from his home with the air conditioner on full blast and arrived at Pelican Walk ready to tackle whatever was thrown at him. He climbed the stairs two at a time, as his usual practice, and strode into the meeting room where his presence was awaited. Inside were the two officers who had arrested the Chin Ellis brothers in the early hours of Sunday morning—Oneil Timmins and Everton Franklin. Detectives Spence, Harris and Rabino were at the other end of the room talking quietly together. Preddy placed his briefcase on the table and began to greet the occupants. Within a few seconds, his eyes began to water and his throat to constrict. He quickly backed out of the room and, from a safe distance, peered inside.
“What is dat smell? Does anybody else feel like deir eyes burning?”
Spence looked at Rabino and grinned. “You lucky you never come in here earlier, sir. De place grey, you woulda blind!”
“If you never choked to death first,” added Rabino, fanning her face with a notebook.
“Sorry, sir,” stammered Harris, his pale face rapidly turning a bright shade of red. “I sprayed some mosquito repellent... maybe tae much?”
“Oh,” said Preddy from the doorway, “well... er, next time, Detective, I think we should agree dat if de room gets sprayed it has to be done at least twenty minutes before anybody enters. Is dat okay?”
“Aye, sir. I do apologise.”
“Guess you won’t need a mint, sir?” said Spence.
“I’m okay.” Preddy coughed a bit as th
e potent chemicals dried out his throat. He re-entered the room and stared pointedly at the two arresting officers. “Let’s hear it. What happened?”
“First of all, we never do anything to either of dem, sir. Carter Chin Ellis was released without charge because his blood alcohol test was borderline and he apologised for his behaviour,” explained Timmins, the shorter officer. “We had a diplomatic chat wid him in reception. He was very polite and humble and we saw no reason to charge him.”
“Except de drugs,” said Spence.
“At dat time we never know ’bout any drugs,” Timmins responded. “We never search de car.”
His colleague Franklin continued, “He asked if Lester could be let go just dis once. I said no. I told him his brother could apply for bail before de magistrate on Monday morning and he, Carter, could come back Monday wid enough cash for bail.”
“He asked if someone could take him back to him car.” Timmins looked sheepish. “I told him we don’t offer chauffeur service, he should call his daddy. De last thing I saw was him trying to hail a taxi.”
“Did you see a taxi pick Carter up?” asked Preddy.
“No, sir. When I next looked out of de window, he was gone,” Timmins replied.
“Why we never let Lester out on station bail though? Why him have to wait till Monday for magistrate?” questioned Preddy.
Timmins and Franklin exchanged glances. “Sir, you would have to have been dere to understand,” said Franklin earnestly. “Lester Chin Ellis was feisty, cursing and swearing. Passing all kinds of dirty remarks ’bout we. He was not cooperating wid us and his blood alcohol test was way over de limit.”
Timmins said, “I heard Lester tell Carter not to call de family lawyer, because de lawyer would report everything to de old people. Carter said he would find a lawyer for him because if he represented himself he wouldn’t get bail or de bail would set at a hundred million dollars. Dey were laughing and joking. Nothing was wrong at all, sir.”
And now something was. Preddy stared up at the stripping plyboard ceiling, noting that even more of the plasterwork had come away since the last heavy rains. They needed a good roofer to add a new temporary zinc barrier until money could be found for decent storm-proof tiles. The last cut-price roofer clearly knew nothing about securing property from the powerful elements.
Preddy sighed deeply. He could not record that Lester had been mouthy and disrespectful. The report was bound to end up in unfriendly hands eager to divulge to the public exactly how vexed officers took revenge on the insolent. Twenty-four hours inside inhospitable cells normally cured the exuberance of even the most arrogant of detainees. There were tales of phantom beatings delivered by inmates and officers, but it had never happened at Pelican Walk and would never be tolerated on his watch.
The detective returned his gaze to the two officers. Permission had been granted to check their disciplinary records and he vowed to do so as soon as the files arrived on his desk. He was aware that a lot of people viewed the police as licensed thugs, and suspicion of involvement in the beating and the murder would quickly move towards the officers, even as they protested their innocence.
“What happened after Carter left?” asked Preddy.
“We went back out on duty shortly after, sir. Opposite direction to Red Hills too... Lilliput way,” Timmins replied. “We never go anywhere near Lester and we never tell anybody to do him anything. We never follow Carter and shoot him.”
Preddy did not know Timmins well enough to be able to judge his honesty and he was not picking up any vibes one way or the other. “Which officers did you see in de station when you got here wid dem?”
Timmins looked thoughtful. “Most of de officers were out. Dere was a disturbance up de road when a gas tanker caught fire. It was a busy night, sir. Wilson was on de front desk and Nembhard was around, too. I didn’t see anybody else. Both of dem will tell you dat dere was nothing wrong wid either of de Chin Ellis brothers when Franklin and I left here.”
“Is it true dat you refused to give dem your name?” asked Preddy.
Timmins glanced at the floor. “What, sir?”
“Lester Chin Ellis was on TV last night claiming dat you both refused to give your names.”
“No, sir,” replied Timmins, shaking his head from side to side. “Nobody asked us ’bout any name.”
“No, sir,” agreed Franklin. “Nothing ’bout name was mentioned.”
Preddy allowed the two officers to leave and then turned to Detective Harris. “Can we get reports from Nembhard and Wilson? Interview dem separately, please. I have a feeling I should have done just dat wid those two.”
“They’re naw indisposed today then, sir?” asked Harris.
“I passed Wilson downstairs,” Preddy replied. “Nembhard should be around somewhere. He couldn’t still be praying to him God all now.”
“I’ll make a report of what de officers just said,” offered Spence.
“Thank you,” said Preddy. “Rabino, you’re wid Harris. I need to go meet de Chin Ellis family.”
“I wouldnae mind meeting Mr and Mrs Chin Ellis,” said Harris, getting to his feet.
A taut smile appeared on Preddy’s face. Rabino and Spence exchanged knowing glances.
Preddy picked up his notebook and keys. “Nembhard and Wilson are tired of me, Detective Harris, I’m sure dey will welcome a fresh face and new voice.”
“Just like we do,” said Rabino with a friendly look in the Scotsman’s direction.
“Heh,” muttered Spence.
“Later, people,” said Preddy, walking out of the room.
*
Detective Preddy drove west along the busy Top Road on his way to interview the Chin Ellis parents. The road’s official name was The Queen’s Drive, but no true Montegonian ever called it that. Its highest point was at least eighty feet above sea level. From this high vantage point he could see some parts of the low-lying Gloucester Avenue, more commonly known by the locals as Bottom Road, or by the uninitiated, tourists mainly, as the Hip Strip.
As he drove, he caught glimpses of the foam-covered waves toppling over each other and melting back into the sea. The magnificent view was blocked in part by high walls, dense foliage and long-abandoned independent hotels that failed to compete with the coastline chain hotels and their all-inclusive offerings. With towering water slides and bouncy diving boards in the sea, scuba diving, water skiing and sailing, they were a big draw. And then there was the copious amounts of food and drink around the clock. It was little wonder the visitors left their cold, rat-race lifestyles behind and flocked to the water front. Preddy could only hope that the tourists made it their business to venture out leaving the man-made entertainment behind and see some of the natural attractions of the island, the mountains, caves, mineral springs and waterfalls.
As he rounded a corner on his final approach towards his destination, he absorbed his favourite view of Montego Bay: the Freeport area, which stood out on a reclaimed peninsula in the middle of the blue-green sea. The most conspicuous buildings on the Freeport were the oatmeal-coloured twin towers of the exclusive Sunscape Splash hotel, surrounded by an impressive array of upmarket residential apartment blocks and townhouses. Behind the accommodations, the undulating green hills and mountains created the perfect backdrop to the scene. Yachts, catamarans and kayaks navigated the waters around the Freeport, which also served cargo freighters and cruise liners all year round. Within seconds the remarkable view was gone as Top Road started its decline until it joined the low coastal boulevard that led to the Freeport itself.
Soon he was heading into the luxury oceanfront community that was the Doubloons. The protected enclave of the wealthiest of residents, who had worked hard for their comfort, security and peace of mind. It was a beautiful area, where the water appeared to change colour depending on where one stood. In some places a spectacular greenish blue, in others almost a transparent light blue, and elsewhere a dark navy blue. Preddy’s eyes were now drawn upwards to the surroundin
g hills rising from the earth, dark green, thick vegetation interspersed with three-storey mansions. It must be the only place in Jamaica where the super-rich looked down on the equally rich below with no hint of property envy. The higher-ups enjoyed an uninterrupted view of both land and sea yet were far enough away to avoid the hustle and bustle of the port.
The multi-million-dollar Doubloons villas came complete with a security guard outpost manned twenty-four hours a day. A shaved head attached to a uniformed body appeared as soon as Preddy’s unmarked vehicle rolled close to the entrance. The detective turned off his air-conditioner, wound down his window and waved his badge at the man who raised the long iron pole barricade. Preddy slowly drove past a few sprawling properties and eventually pulled up at the Chin Ellis home.
It certainly met the description he had been given. Even from outside it was staggeringly large, with two double garages and plenty of parking spaces for a dozen more cars, as well as a helipad. There was an annex to one side, which he supposed was the helpers’ quarters that all villas appeared to have as standard, usually home to a maid and or a gardener. The only relatively small structure on the premises was the swimming pool, although Preddy wondered why they needed a pool at all when the house was mere footsteps from this extraordinary beach. Beside the pool was a thatched bar and next to it a steel drum cut in half, lined with charcoal, and covered with a barbecue grill. Plenty of jerked meats were surely prepared right there.
A detached building appeared to be a guest cottage strategically placed right on the beach so that it was possible to sit on the floor of the verandah and relax with both feet emerged in the warm sea water. There were no animals to be seen. Although many Jamaicans kept dogs for protection and to alert them to intruders, Preddy suspected that several of the Doubloons residents were well-armed themselves.
