by Sean Russell
Phil was very clear on what drove his success, and he was grateful for his family. He learned to respect what he had previously wanted to ridicule—the rough cotton work shirts and steel-tipped boots that were his father’s work uniform and the old pick up truck that Phil was embarrassed to be taken to school in (he volunteered to take the bus as soon as he was old enough); the less than prime real estate that their house rested on with trucks instead of luxury cars parked in the driveway, but then it wasn’t really a driveway, it was just the road in front of their house.
Phil was so embarrassed because the neighbours always complained about the trucks, that they blocked the road, that they made a lot of noise in the morning and late at night and that they made a mess with the oil and mud they deposited in their resting places.
The restricted spending habits limited Phil’s early wardrobe to bargain basement ensembles, and his toys to educational tools. Phil thought he could write a bestseller: ‘ 100 Ways to Have Fun With an Abacus’.
Things were better now that his father was about to undertake a twenty million dollar job. Things were at the negotiating stage with everything agreed on in principle. The details were to be ironed out and a contract drawn. The material trappings had improved, not to a level of extravagance, but rather of reasonable comfort. The work ethic and financial prudence remained intact and unchanged.
* * *
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jade thought that the brakes were feeling a bit mushy when she got in the car that morning.
She thought little of it, in fact she thought it was her.
She was having a problem at that moment. She was zooming along the highway at her customary pace—
one hundred and twenty kilometers per hour, well in excess of the legal limit. She was approaching a roundabout, a place where common sense dictated that one slowed down to a more pedestrian pace in order to negotiate the turn. Jade was not short on common sense, but she was short on brakes. She made her approach to the roundabout, out-pacing cars in the other lane. The car making its way through the roundabout ahead of her was filling her visual field very quickly. All of Jade’s attempts at stamping the brake pedal to retard the progress were futile. She was not slowing down. All sensory information processed at that instant gave one conclusion—she was going to crash, and she did. She hit the car in the roundabout in front of her, raising it on two wheels before it landed all four again. Her car rebounded and spun two complete circles, its rotation abruptly curtailed by the wall of cut rock which was the boundary on the left side of the road. The car was crumpled like a sheet of aluminum foil which was balled up and crushed in someone’s fist. Jade was unaware of this. She was unconscious.
*****
Phil’s Blackberry came to life ringing and flashing, startling him. It had had that effect on him for the past three days since he got the call from Jimmy Cadogan.
He was scared to answer each time. That call really shook him. He had not been able to talk to Jade yet, and it was driving him crazy. She was staying away from him. It was torture. He had searched everywhere for her.
The number on the Blackberry was familiar, but Phil was unable to recall who it belonged to. It turned out to be Jade’s mother. She told Phil that Jade was in hospital, that she had been a terrible car accident.
Fortunately, she was not seriously injured; some bruises and a head injury were the reason she was in hospital. She was being kept for observation. Mom did not know what had happened between them, but he, being her husband, should be there. Phil felt fear, anger, concern and relief. How did he get here? It was as if someone had hijacked his life, dragged him from the smooth road he was on and put him on a crazy roller coaster, the kind he refused to go on at amusement parks.
His overriding emotion was concern for his wife’s well-being. The other issues could hold until she had recovered. He saved the file he was working on and left immediately for the hospital.
He was making his way to the hospital ward Jade’s mother said she was in. He was but ten paces away from the door when two burly men approached him.
They wore police uniforms and their faces were grim.
Phil thought they had news of who had caused the accident that hurt his wife. Up to this point he had received no details about the accident. The taller of the two spoke:
“Mr. …Philip Ferguson?”
“Yes, can I help you?”
“Certainly. You are under arrest for the attempted murder of Jade Ferguson.”
Phil’s eyes bulged. His brows raced to his hairline and his heart pounded as if he had run a sprint.
“What!?”
The officers looked at him blankly.
“You must be kidding! And this is a really a bad time and in poor taste. She’s injured and in hospital!!” By now Phil was more agitated than anything else.
His overriding urge was to be the typical, arrogant lawyer. The officer spoke again, still unmoved.
“We have been made to understand that you are the reason she is in that ward.”
Phil stared at the men in disbelief.
“We advise you to come with us to the station. It would be better if we had your cooperation.” There was just a hint of menace in his voice. Phil fought the urge to explode.
“Do you know who I am? I am an attorney! This is an outrage! Where is your warrant?” The officer smiled slightly.
“Of course we know you are an attorney… we are the police.”
As if on cue, the second officer presented the warrant to Phil, who proceeded to read it, but with great difficulty. He could hardly keep his eyes focused, and his head was spinning. He stumbled and the second officer assisted him. By now people nearby were taking a real interest in the drama unfolding outside ward A3. Phil decided to comply without making more of a scene. He walked out of the hospital like a man on his way to the gallows.
*****
Jade’s head felt like it was in an explosion. In fact, her whole body felt that way, but her head hurt the most. Was she in an explosion? The last thing she remembered was seeing the car in front of her as she approached it very quickly. Along with it came the bilious sensation and bitter taste in her mouth as she relived the panic of having no brakes. The alarm on the pulse monitor went off—her heart rate had jumped. A nurse came to check her. She saw the fear in Jade’s eyes.
“It’s okay. You’re in hospital… under observation.
You’ll be fine.”
Jade looked about the room, the disorientation becoming all too familiar. It was the second time she had awakened in alien surroundings, this one more alien than the last. Part of her mind wondered if someone was using her for an experiment. She felt like an experimental subject lying in a mechanical bed with the side bars up with several tubes attached to her body and video screens displaying information very foreign to her. The faded baby blue walls enclosing the room did nothing to make her feel less like a rat about to be dissected.
Jades eyes no longer registered panic, but they still were asking questions.
“You’re lucky… no broken bones, no internal injuries. You are conscious now. That’s good. That was a nasty accident.”
Jade nodded acknowledgement and appreciation, then broke into sobs. The past few days had been overwhelming. The nurse squeezed her hand and mopped her face.
“Take it easy. Relax. Take comfort in the fact that you are going to be fine. Get some rest. It will help you to recover.”
She walked off quickly. Another alarm had gone off.
*****
By the time Phil settled down in the back seat of the police car he had begun collecting his thoughts.
The whole thing was outrageous. He was being accused of a crime that he did not know had taken place. Something was very wrong here. The first thing he had to do was keep his emotions in check and not aggravate the police. Not much damage had been done so far. He needed to get all the details on the case and he needed the best defense attorney in the land to defend him. There was one g
litch—the best defense attorney worked at J.C. Chambers for Jimmy Cadogan. Not a good option. Phil’s second choice was away on sabbatical in Africa. She would not be back soon. That left Phil at his third choice, and he was not happy. He wanted the best. Life as he knew it, his life as a free man, was on the line. He had to give this more thought, which was tough because Phil felt compelled to act, not think. He tried to calm himself, and then a funny thing happened. He started to meditate.
* * *
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Amanda was strutting her stuff on the catwalk, striding confidently down the runway. Somehow she managed to have enough bounce in her step and sway in her hips to impress all in attendance. It was not overly exaggerated, it was smooth, poised and graceful with that bit of ‘umph’ attitude. Her facial expression was fierce, confident, her lips almost pursed and her eyes had just a hint of a smile. She was modeling swimwear. The bikini she wore was white with black piping. It looked as if it was designed just for her body, but then again Amanda had that kind of body. There were many nods of acknowledgement and appreciative clapping as she did her paces. The more exuberant onlookers whistled and cheered. The models were all gorgeous, but Amanda had that it factor, that thing that caught and held your attention.
The show closed to a standing ovation, much of it directed at Amanda.
She left the stage with the other girls and entered the dressing room to change. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She had made it. Dreams do come true. She had overcome. For a moment she recalled those days back home in South America. She thought of her Aunt Millie and her brothers to whom she regularly sent money, and her saviour Mickey, who refused to accept the money and sent it back. She thought of Tanko, and even then she felt that bilious urge she had tried so hard to eradicate. She recalled her school days in Barbados, the fond memories of the place, but not of most of the girls. The guys were another matter. She labelled that ‘education’. Her formal education was curtailed abruptly.
She had finished secondary school at Queen’s College, one of the better schools, and had met the requirements to do law at Cave Hill University. She attended the first semester, rather the first half of the semester, when she realized that her heart was not in it and everything was a struggle. Her mind was always on a photo shoot or a runway. In spite of her brief sojourn at university, she had developed the reputation of being a ‘fashionista’ second to none.
Amanda discovered that there was an audition for America’s Top Model in New York, and as fate would have it, there was a special on flights to the Big Apple at that time. She had some money saved from her odd jobs bartending and waitressing, the bulk of it coming from tips. She knew she had to go for it. She took a leave of absence from school and flew to the land of opportunity; the land where dreams came true.
*****
The audition was an experience. There were hundreds of young, pretty girls, all thinking that they would be America’s next top model. Amanda faced all kinds of personalities, from pleasant to overly competitive, to downright bitch. None of this fazed her. Compared to her school days, these were girl guides on a good day. Amanda was placing herself in the crowd, visualizing being selected, being on the show. Suddenly she was called out from the group.
She was elated. Someone saw the diamond in the rough. Tyra wanted a private word with her. She was led outside by one of the show’s officials. Waiting for her in navy blue uniforms, light glittering off their badges and faces grim as deportation, were two immigration officers. The person who Amanda was staying with had overstayed her time in the United States, but in jealous spite, had informed the officials that Amanda had a doctored passport and was therefore in the country illegally and was auditioning to be America’s Top Model. The officers had no choice but to investigate.
Amanda was taken to the office for questioning and thorough examination of her passport which was found to be ‘legit’. She had straightened that matter out prior to any excursion to the U.S., having followed the advice of her mentor Mickey. She was released with an apology.
“We have to follow up on all leads… You know how these things are…”
The end result was that Amanda missed the audition. The next one was in six months and was due to be held in Los Angeles. She was devastated.
Amanda was determined to chase her dream. She was at a turning point. She could cut her losses, return to Barbados and become a lawyer and protect the rights of young, vulnerable women like herself.
In fact, it was the sensible choice. She could not, however, ignore that burn in her; that burn that rose from that inner core of her being; that burn that felt it would consume her at some time if she did not accede to its urging. She decided to go for broke. She had six months to make headway towards her dream. Beyond that she would certainly be a legitimate target for the immigration department. She was determined to realise her dream. She would wait tables, do whatever it took. She was unafraid of struggle. She had known it all her life.
* * *
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Detective Mobert Clarke was a thin man of medium-brown complexion and coarse features with a tendency for wrinkling, much like a bull mastiff’s face.
He was not well liked in his department, probably because he was not much of a talker, and when he did talk it was usually to communicate the fact he took shit from no one. Little mystery that he was a bachelor. He also possessed a sharp, deductive mind, and so despite any shortcomings he had on a social level, he was highly respected, even if grudgingly so, as one of the best detectives in the department.
He was contemplating the case involving the well known lawyer Phil Ferguson. The case had on odour—fishy. The police had received an anonymous tip about Jade’s car: that the brake lines had been cut. That followed a call from Jade’s cell phone the day before requesting that the police come to her office because she felt as if she was in danger. Her husband had threatened her. That call was followed quickly by another one saying not to bother, that everything was okay. What further concerned Mobert was the timing.
Mobert had a great disbelief in coincidences. The calls happened to come in when Detective Seale was on duty.
Adrian Seale was an ambitious man who was in a tremendous hurry to move ahead in life. He was known in the department as Pastor Seale, for his leaps of faith in many of the cases he solved. The shortcuts he took to solve his cases required those leaps of faith with great regularity. The idea that he managed to become a detective was also a leap of faith. More realistically, Pastor Seale had a powerful godfather who watched over him and made sure he remained untouched.
Mobert did not voice his concerns. He resolved to find out what was really happening.
*****
There were benefits to living in a small island and being a ‘somebody’ even if that ‘somebody’ was recognized under dubious circumstances. Ricky Paul was visiting his grandmother at the hospital. She was waiting to know whether or not she was going to have her left leg amputated. Many years of poor management of her diabetes had rendered the circulation in her leg tenuous at best. She had practically raised Ricky and he was very close to her. He visited her every evening.
It had almost become a bone of contention at work because his employer was committed to delivering what he offered on every job and on time. That meant late evenings sometimes, which of course conflicted with Ricky getting to the hospital in time for visiting hours. Fortunately, Ricky’s boss was a compassionate man who respected family values. He and Ricky worked out an agreement. Ricky was grateful, because many construction bosses would not have been able conceive a compromise. To his credit, Ricky was an intelligent, industrious individual in whom his boss saw potential for growth.
Ricky was just entering the hospital when Phil was climbing into the squad car. It was just one of those things. The car was parked near the back entrance, away from most curious eyes. He was shocked. He recognized Phil Ferguson even though he was not in his customary suit.
Ricky knew what he h
ad to do. It was obvious that Phil was in serious trouble. This was his opportunity.
He dialed the number on his cell phone. The man on the other end answered. He was an older man—a successful business owner. He was Ricky’s boss, Isaac Ferguson, Phil’s father. Ricky told him what he saw.
Isaac thanked him for the call. He sat and thought for a few minutes. Experience had taught him over the years to do that. It helped him to avoid hasty mistakes and he also found that he spent his time and energy more effectively. Isaac Ferguson was just short of average height, stocky with close-cropped grey hair. He was dark in complexion like Phil was, and had a broad nose and eyes that looked like they were laughing, and they were much of the time unless they were provoked into giving one of the sternest looks one would ever want to witness. He was not a fussy man, but he was a proud man. He knew Phil would never do anything to put himself on the wrong side of the law. Someone was trying to hurt Phil, and by extension, the Ferguson family. Isaac had weathered many attempts to bring the Fergusons down. He learned from each attempt.
This was another opportunity to learn and show the Lord what he was made of. Another trial sent from on high. To whom much was given, much was expected.
Isaac gave thanks for this trial and went to work to overcome it. He began dialing some numbers.
As a child you never know who your playmates are going to become. Playing in the country village some sixty plus years before, Isaac had many friends. It was curious to see who turned out to be who, and did what. Some became quite successful despite their humble beginnings. Some went nowhere, and a few found the wrong side of the law.
One of Isaac’s friends was Barrington Adolphus Thompson. He ended up being called BATman, a nickname which was dropped as Barry advanced in life. Few, if any, now dared to call him by his initial pet name simply because he attained the station in life where he could put you in jail if he wanted to. He was a judge.
