by Paula Lennon
“I don’t even know where it came from. Just appeared on my desk,” said Preddy evenly, as he walked around the desk towards his chair. The white man’s face had taken a strange colour and Preddy wondered if he should offer him a seat. “I’m glad dey didn’t ask me anything about it.”
“And ye dinnae think the rest of us needed tae hear about yer bloody theory before the brass did?”
He would not offer him a seat. “I only just worked it out in my own mind.”
“Like fuck ye did! All information out in the open, remember? This is what got ye intae this mess in the first place, keeping everything close tae yer chest as if ye dinnae trust the rest of us. Ye did it with the Chinchillerz drugs investigation that ye made yer own personal private investigation and ye did it again today! Och, ‘here’s a photo’ and ‘there’s a hood’ and ‘there’s the weights’ like these just cropped up.”
Preddy wished he had never sucked on any mints today and could have sent the essence of cannabidiol his aggressor’s way. He leaned back wearing a contrite expression. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t initially see any link between Lester’s assault and Carter’s murder or I would have told de team.”
“Och, really? Bullshit! Ye think I havenae realised that while ye were telling all of us tae stay clear of Timmins, Nembhard, Wilson and Franklin, ye were busy working with Timmins?”
“I only used Timmins when I knew he wasn’t involved in de murder.”
“And ye knew that how exactly?”
Preddy shrugged. “My gut told me, and it was right.”
“Is there anything else ye think yer gut needs tae tell me?”
It loves ganja tea, the stronger the better. “No, nothing.”
“Good, because I swear tae God, Detective Preddy, next time I will throw ye under the bus.” He swung open the door and stormed out without bothering to close it.
“I believe you will,” mumbled Preddy.
As Preddy drove home listening to instrumental reggae music he could not resist making a phone call, although Annalee had warned him about distracted driving despite often creating the distraction herself. She was right, but as he had explained, the nature of his job meant that sometimes it just couldn’t be helped. Emergencies could cause inappropriate behaviour, endangering motorists and pedestrians alike. This was no emergency call, yet his weary heart thought otherwise.
“Hey, you,” he said nervously.
“Hey.”
“I’ve missed hearing your voice. Tired of de answer machine.” Silence filled the air while he waited, listening to the engine purr. His fingernails pierced the steering wheel. “Sorry I was stupid.”
“I’m sorry you were stupid too,” Valerie said, but he could tell from her voice that she had softened.
“I love you, you know, woman?”
“Good thing, because I love you too.”
“My case has really blown up,” said Preddy, feeling more comfortable now. “And I have had one hell of a day.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Yes and no.”
“You know you keep too much to yourself, Ray,” she said and he heard the frustration in her voice. “You alone can’t solve all de crime in St James. Sometimes you have to think about delegation, or dat brain of yours will forever be overworked and thinking up all sorts of bad things about de innocent people around you. By all accounts you have a good team. You should use dem.”
“You know somebody said pretty much de same thing to me earlier. Not as nicely though.”
“Oh, who?”
“A white man wid a red head and a bad temper. Him have balls though. Not many people would dare come into my office come talk to me so.”
“Well, if him can get some sense into you, Ray, I’m on his side,” she said. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“I can’t and it’s not over yet,” he said regretfully. “I have one hour to change, grab some nightgear and den back out again.”
“Well, be very careful,” she said. “And I know you not stupid.”
CHAPTER 32
Friday, 14 August, 10:04 p.m.
Preddy and Harris entered the Doubloons, having convinced the security guard that he could either let them through or spend an all-inclusive night at Pelican Walk. The chastened man was not allowed to inform the Chin Ellis family of the detectives’ arrival. No time for niceties when a murderer was on the loose, particularly when the suspect was a regular visitor.
Ida opened the door to Preddy’s incessant ringing and banging, dressed in a long yellow nightgown, her greying hair in tiny curlers. Harris stood beside his colleague, his keen eyes surveying the house and grounds for any signs of movement. Terence was at the top of the stairs clad in pyjamas, bending and peering over the banister.
“Where is he?” asked Preddy, handing her the warrant as he stepped into the grand hallway, gun drawn and pointed at the floor.
“Wait, something was wrong with the phone line? What didn’t you hear?” she snapped.
“Parents lie for children all de time,” said Preddy, “you wouldn’t be de first.”
“You’re here to hurt my son, aren’t you?” Ida clutched the neck of her nightgown. “Answer me, Detective Preddy!”
“Miss Ida, your son is unpredictable and we need to talk to him.”
Her look was scathing. “So, you’re just going shoot him and tell the world he shot first.”
“I have no intention of shooting him,” said Preddy as calmly as possible. “My interest is to speak to him.”
“Where is he, ma’am?” asked Harris.
She glared at him. “He’s not here! It’s just me and my husband.”
“Ye won’t mind if we look around then, will ye?”
“Go look!” she said with a sweep of her arm.
“Mr Chin Ellis, if yer son is up there now is the time tae tell us,” said Harris looking up at the anxious man.
“He’s not here! You don’t hear?” Terence barked, gripping the banister so hard that his knuckles turned white.
Preddy concentrated on Ida. “He in de beach house?”
She gave him a sullen look. “How would I know? He comes and goes as he pleases. He’s my son.”
“Ma’am, ye need tae let us look in there,” said Harris. “If he comes quietly there’ll naw be any problems.”
She snatched up a set of keys from a rack by the door and strode past the detectives into the humid night air. They followed behind her as she marched down to the beach house.
“Lester! Lester, you in there?” his mother called.
“Lester! Police!” shouted Preddy, taking up a position to the far side of the door. He beckoned to Ida to open it, which she tried to do while fumbling with the key, her shaking fingers unable to fit it into the lock. Harris gently removed it from her hands and opened the door, using his foot to push it as far back as it could go.
“Lester, this is Detective Harris with Detective Preddy!” he shouted, then looked at Ida. “Turn on the light.”
As the lights went on it was clear that whoever had been in the apartment had left in a hurry. Papers and books were scattered everywhere and clothes strewn over the bed and floor.
The detectives searched the building from corner to corner, but the search proved fruitless. Preddy used his phone to dial Lester’s number. Seconds later the target’s phone began to ring and was located under a T-shirt on the floor. Ida watched nervously as Preddy pressed a few keys on the unearthed phone, lighting up the various numbers dialled and then signalled to Harris.
“Darnay’s number. We’ve got it.”
“Where is he?” asked Harris patiently, as the three left the beach house. “Miss Ida, listen tae me. We have good reason tae believe that Lester was involved in Carter’s murder. If we are wrong, then he can defend himself.”
“You people must be smoking something strong in that station!” said Ida.
“Apparently naw,” murmured Harris.
Her
eyes penetrated Preddy. “Lester loved Carter, just like the rest of us!”
“Den he can tell us all about it himself,” said Preddy. “Look, we know he was here earlier.”
“I don’t know where he is, Detective. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”
“We’ll just take a look around his room,” said Preddy, walking back towards the house.
They rummaged through Lester’s bedroom, hoping to find the murder weapon or even ammunition. Preddy surveyed the huge room and tried to work out if anything was missing since his last visit.
Ida walked towards the bookshelf and took up a framed photograph, staring at the image of her beloved family. There she was sitting beside her two gorgeous sons at age ten and twelve, with her loving husband, all smiles. Carter was missing a tooth but still looking his usual cheeky self. Lester was making rabbits ears over his brother’s head while Terence hugged the two of them closely. Never would she have guessed that ten years later she would be in this terrible position with one angel gone for ever, and the other being hunted down like an animal by the police.
“Miss Ida, please. It better if we find him dan any other officers,” Preddy pleaded. “Whatever you may think of me, I swear to you dat I will not shoot without provocation.”
“We will treat him fairly, I promise,” added Harris.
“The gardener’s old car is missing,” she murmured. “He may have taken it. It’s a red Honda Civic.”
“Where would Lester be headed?” asked Harris.
Ida shrugged wearily. “There is an apartment in Bluefields Bay.”
Preddy frowned. “Bluefields Bay, Westmoreland? I thought he lived at Sandy Bay?”
“I leased the Bluefields apartment a few months ago, because the boys love that side of the south coast. He likes to go down there.”
Preddy fought hard not to show his anger. “You should have told us dis before.”
“He is my son.”
Ida described the property and the detectives raced down the stairs, striding purposefully towards their jeep. Outside, she stood in the night air, twisting her damp hands together while watching them speed away. For a long time she stared at the dark mounds of the hills above, which now reminded her of tombstones and prayed that her son was safe. Eventually she made her way to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of chilled water. Drinking late at night would do nothing to help her sleep, but there was little chance of falling asleep tonight. Lester did love Carter with all his heart, she knew that. Everybody knew it, except the blasted police.
It was true that the two had not seen eye to eye over numerous things, but that was nothing new. They were close brothers and that was what close brothers did; they fought and argued, made up and laughed. She did not know what to make of the drugs seized from Chinchillerz that the police suspected belonged to one or both of her sons. Young people experimented at will, yet she could not believe that either son would get involved in drug dealing. They had more than enough money. Her heart fluttered suddenly. Carter had enough money because he knew how to manage it and she had placed no restrictions on him. Lester did not know how to manage money and was recently restrained by a credit limit, although he had seemed quite content and there was no visible change in his lifestyle.
She brushed away the cloudy thoughts. Someone must be framing her sons. Neither of them were drug dealers or drug users and Lester was certainly no murderer. He would soon give himself up so that they could question him and realise their terrible mistake. She vowed to call another news conference in the morning and appeal to Lester to hand himself in, that was if the police had not tracked him down first.
Through the kitchen window she peered into the murky night, and saw a slim shadow moving in the distance. She thought it must be a trick of the light and the low-hanging palm trees. If only she had not left her glasses upstairs. As her eyes became more accustomed to the moonlight it became clear that it was indeed the shape of a person. She could not tell whether it was a male or female, but the shape was certainly shorter than Lester. Seconds later she heard an unmistakeable purring sound. Ida turned and ran to the bottom of the stairs.
“Terence! Terence! Quick! Lord God! Somebody’s stealing the chopper!” Her breath caught in her throat as she ran back and watched it wobble and lift off. Whoever was in there was going to die a painful death as the gas was practically on empty.
*
Police in the adjoining parishes of Hanover and Westmoreland were on the lookout for the suspect’s latest mode of transport and officers from nearby Savanna la Mar had agreed to make their way to Bluefields Bay. As Preddy sped along the main road, Harris took a call from Rabino.
“Talk tae me.”
“The car has been spotted close to Buddles Mountain near Bluefields, sir. Sav police have been told.”
“Okay, meet us there.” Harris looked over at Preddy. “Where’s Buddles Mountain?”
“More dan an hour away.”
Preddy hogged the middle of the highway, dodging potholes, ignoring the obscene gestures of angry motorists. They journeyed at a furious pace, eventually leaving St James and entering the parish of Westmoreland heading in a south westerly direction towards the shimmering coastal waters of Bluefields Bay.
There were few lampposts in Bluefields Bay, the moon providing the sole lighting. Fishermen’s boats lay upturned like huge beached whales on the sand. Houses were few and far between and all were dark as to be expected in an area where most people rose hours before the sun did, even the well-heeled who just wanted to sip coffee and watch the boats set sail.
A row of headlights illuminated the local police who were guarding the red car which lay in the banking with the keys in the ignition and engine still running. Preddy and Harris pulled up beside it, followed by Spence and Rabino in their jeep. Both front doors of the abandoned vehicle were wide open. The glove compartment was also open and empty, and on the floor lay a few scattered documents.
Preddy shone his flashlight at the surrounding bush and discovered what appeared to be a trail. He looked up at the mighty black monoliths in front of him, dark and forbidding, not the sort of place he fancied exploring in the middle of the night. No wonder the local officers had made no move to venture up into the unknown. Many areas of Jamaica were just like this—green, rocky and cavernous, mainly unexplored, places where undiscovered insects and supposedly extinct creatures could dwell in peace.
“Well, Detective Harris, we going in or not?” he asked.
Harris followed his gaze and inhaled deeply. “Aye, I guess we are.”
“We might be able to get some canine help,” said Preddy, taking out his phone. “Lester does not like dogs.”
After making a call Preddy adjusted his bulletproof vest and checked that his gun was properly loaded and securely holstered, while Harris rummaged around in the back of the jeep.
“I dinnae suppose anyone’s got night vision goggles?”
“Night vision goggles?” Spence repeated as she holstered up, her scathing glance lost in the dark. “We have jeep, gas, gun and bullet. You can stay deh.” She adjusted her own vest, strode past him and headed toward the mountain.
Preddy said nothing, but could not prevent an involuntary smile from crossing his lips and for a brief moment was grateful for the cover of darkness. They turned up the narrow bramble-covered track that appeared to have been created by goats rather than by humans. Under the thick lining of his rubber lug soles he could feel the sharp stones.
“Police! Lester, give it up!”
“Lester Chin Ellis!”
“Lester!”
CHAPTER 33
Friday, 14 August, 11:51 p.m.
The hackles rose on the frightened young man’s neck. Although he had considered the prospect of them finding out he was in Bluefields, he had not bet on them arriving so quickly. He had barely changed clothes before the flashing blue lights came tearing down the coastline. Now it seemed as if even the pitch blackness would not put them off following
him up the mountain.
He crouched down closer to the cold ground and looking up saw a steep track barely visible by the light from the moon and almost obscured by the heavy overhanging trees. As he crawled his way up to higher ground he cursed silently at the thick foliage that interrupted his passage and scratched his torso. His no longer white expensive cotton shirt was partly in threads and his designer jeans were now scuffed more than was fashionable. The heavy denim restricted the movement of his tired legs.
His parents had taught him never to wear torn clothes no matter what work he was doing or where he was going and he had followed that sensible advice his entire life. Still, they would never have imagined him crawling on his hands and knees in the dark and hiding from the police. He tried not to concentrate on the eerie desolation and intense blackness that appeared all around him. The rocks and caves hid who knew what and he could not bear to contemplate running into any form of wild creature. Yet what awaited him below was far more devastating and the reasonable comforts he enjoyed were now at risk.
He continued his climb upwards and vowed not to look backwards again. Having teetered precariously over one ledge and experienced the accompanying feeling of nausea, he would not make the mistake of repeating the move.
At first when he heard the dogs he thought it was just his imagination. The odd dog could always be heard idly barking, but this sounded like a dozen or more. Every sound was exacerbated in the blackness, even his own breath, so he could not be sure whether his imagination was playing tricks. The crickets sounded overgrown and he envisioned them the size of small bullfrogs. Something brushed past him minutes ago, but it must have been an alarmed mongoose as it was way too large to be a rat. Owls watched him, he could hear their gentle cooing and see their eyes wide and studious, missing nothing.
As he reached a flat piece of rock he forced himself to peer through the trees behind him and in the distance could see dancing torches. The officers still seemed to be a good way away, although the intense barking now sounded much nearer and he knew that he was not imagining things.
