“Well, we may as well leave,” Trichardt said.
“I believe you’re right. You should leave before anything goes down. You don’t want to be implicated. Just leave your men here. But stay until tomorrow; nothing is going to happen before then.”
Trichardt realized that what the man said made sense. Those who had been involved in the shooting were dead.
What did the old proverb say? Dead men tell no tales.
The police would never prove they had any association with him. They worked for Carruthers, although the police probably couldn’t even prove that they had been in Carruthers’ employ. The superintendent could infer whatever he liked; there was no proof.
“All right, I’ll do that but I’ll leave tomorrow. Let’s see what develops. Does anybody know about this house?” he asked.
Carruthers shook his head. “Nobody.” He rose from the sofa, “I think I’ll take that drink now.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
I must look like an old man, I thought, hunched over and hanging with one hand on to a drip-stand on wheels for support. I shuffled slowly down the corridor towards Maria’s ward. Surprisingly, the good police superintendent had given my proposed visit his blessing. Still, the constable assigned to watch my ward never let me out of his sight. It wasn’t very clear to me whether the man was to watch or protect me - probably a combination of both, I imagined. Anyway, the doctor had insisted that I start moving around as soon as possible as this would speed up my recovery.
Maria was also given a ward to herself. She was awake but connected to a number of drips. However, in addition two plastic tubes ran from connections in the wall to her nostrils, bleeding in additional oxygen. She was deathly pale, the abrasions she had suffered stark against her almost white skin.
Seeing her in this condition squeezed my heart. I would have done anything to spare her this ordeal. I began to realize that my feelings for her ran deeper than I had originally imagined. I could still distinctly recall the agony and guilt I suffered before the doctor assured me that she was out of danger.
I gingerly sat down in the chair next to her bed, my head no more than a foot or so from her face. Painfully I leant forward and kissed her on the cheek.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” I asked softly taking the hand that lay on the bed outside the sheets into my own.
She cracked her eyes open to mere slits and smiled weakly.
“I’m happy to see you. Are you okay?” she whispered.
“I’m much better than you. I was so worried for you when we drove you to the hospital. It was horrific, there was blood all over.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll pull through this quicker than you think,” she murmured quietly giving my hand a slight squeeze. I could feel the tremor of her fingers in my hand.
“Have you spoken to the superintendent yet?” I asked.
“No, he hasn’t been here yet.”
That surprised me. Maybe the man had accepted what I said to be true. I briefly recounted the story I had told the superintendent, emphasising that I never mentioned diamonds or cash; this had nothing to do with him. Obviously, the shootings and killings were a different matter.
I wasn’t sure she had taken this all in but I was not about to press her.
I was still there when the doctor arrived; a coloured man with a trim beard, dressed in a white coat and the invariable stethoscope around the neck.
“How is my beautiful patient feeling this morning?” he asked giving Maria a warm smile.
“Better,” Maria nodded.
The doctor looked at me. “Are you two an item?” he asked.
I didn’t know what made me say it, but without thinking, I replied: “Yes, She is my fiancée.”
As weak and sedated as she was, I could not help but see the look of surprise, which registered on her face. The best part was the smile she gave me. Had she interpreted this as a commitment?
Actually, it was true. What I had said at the spur of the moment did indeed reflect my heartfelt feelings at that moment. We were an item.
“Well, she’s a lucky lady - an inch either could have been fatal. Fortunately, she incurred little internal damage, certainly nothing we couldn’t fix. She should recover soon.” He indicated the seriousness of the situation. “She will need special care for a few days.”
He looked at me sternly, and then drew me aside out of earshot.
“Can you afford this?” he asked his concern apparent.
I nodded.
“Fine. Please leave us alone now,” he said in a professional tone, dismissing me. He turned his back and then drew the curtains around the bed.
I felt relieved to hear that she was over the worst. When I returned to my ward, I found the superintendent sitting in a chair next to my bed reading a newspaper, a cup of tea on my bedside locker.
“Morning,” he said, giving me the first smile I had seen from him. “I hope you don’t mind?”
He was casually dressed in cotton slacks and a short-sleeved light blue shirt with a pair of tan loafers on his feet.
“Not at all,” I replied. “Make yourself at home.” Did I sound sarcastic? Well, that was not the intention.
“Can I organize tea for you?” he asked politely.
“Yes, make it coffee.”
He disappeared and returned a minute later.
“I thought about your story. It seems to ring true, although I have the impression that you’ve omitted large chunks. But maybe these should not concern me, as they have no direct bearing on what has occurred on the island. Also, I should tell you that there is an executive jet at the airport with a filed flight plan that indicates South Africa as its final destination. Tell me; has this anything to do with you?”
The nurse arrived with my coffee, so we both remained silent until she left. I wondered how I should answer the question.
“I suppose one can’t tell a police officer anything in confidence. But I’ll have to chance it. The jet actually belongs to our business; we’ve just collected it from the USA, or at least, my partner has. He is piloting it,” I replied, wondering how much he knew.
“Mr Gavin McCreedy is it? Isn’t he accompanied by his wife and Miss Francine Mouton? Who is she?” he casually asked to me.
Christ! For a moment, I was stunned. How did he know these things?
“Just a friend.” I hoped my expression did not reveal my surprise.
“Really, not another fiancée is she?”
That just had to be sarcasm, I thought. Fuck you, but that’s not what I said.
“Of course not,” I replied.
“I just wondered. She is beautiful. But then so is Miss Donkin, wouldn’t you say?” he smiled.
I ignored the remark.
“Well, I did suggest to Mr McCreedy that he visit you, but should do so only during the evening. I said I’d assist with Customs, this only a short visit. I said that I would be pleased to give him a lift and suggested that this be late this evening. The two women should remain aboard. We don’t want to be conspicuous, do we? I also suggested that after the visit they not wait on this island but fly somewhere else nearby and return when you have recovered. Oh, incidentally, I left them my number so that they could communicate with me.” He sipped his tea.
I actually felt relieved. I had not known what Gavin would do when we did not arrive. They could not stay indefinitely aboard the aircraft and I was afraid that they might pass through immigration. If Whittle knew who they were, then maybe Trichardt also knew they were on the airfield. Somehow, I doubted that. Whittle would have to come by this information through some routine police check for an aircraft on the apron for longer than a day, the crew and passengers not deplaning. Something like that appeared not to have been investigated.
Gavin arrived later in the evenin
g, with Whittle. They did not enter through the front entrance, but the superintendent brought him in through the back.
The shock on my partner’s face said it all.
“Christ! you look bloody awful. Are you all right?”
“Other than being bloody shot to pieces, I should survive,” I retorted rather heartily, grateful to see him. This gave me hope; maybe we would get off this damn island in one piece.
“I heard that you were both shot. How’s Maria?” he asked concernedly.
“She’s worse off but is recovering. At least, she’s out of danger. I’m sure the superintendent will take you to her.”
I filled him in on what had occurred since they had left. The poor man was aghast, the story I related about the ski-boat, and the shootings shocking him to the core.
“God Peter, don’t you think we should just give the man the money? God, I suppose we couldn’t get the diamonds back. I mean he’s trying to kill us!”
His body seemed to quiver with suppressed horror.
“Don’t be ridiculous, forget about that. It’s too late. I don’t think it’s about the money anymore. Probably nobody has ever dared do anything like this to him before. He’s filled with hatred and revenge - there’s no compromise anymore. He wants us dead; nothing else will do.”
“And what now?” Gavin asked.
“Well, I don’t think we can take this problem back to South Africa with us. He’s a lot more powerful there than here. We wouldn’t stand a chance and then there are the women to consider. If anything were to happen to us in our own country, it would probably be covered up - an unsolved crime, something done by black gangsters or the like. I doubt whether it would ever even get to court. Christ, Gavin! He’s pals with those racist diehards in BOSS; he might even be connected to them, who knows? What more would he need? They’re already murdering people, you know, the bodies are never found. God, didn’t we see enough of that in Angola?” I asked coldly.
“What are you going to do?” he asked not disguising his alarm.
“I’m staying here. At least I have Whittle, that’s a damn sight more than Trichardt and Carruthers have. Whittle is set on getting them, or at least it seems so.”
I could see that his mounting apprehension was gradually getting the better of him.
“What about my family and also Francine?” he demanded.
“They haven’t even thought of you yet. If we can end it on the island, I believe that will be the end of it, once and for all. The question is how to end it, and the only solution that I see is either they kill us or we kill them. We’ve really got ourselves into deep shit on this one!” I replied.
“Surely, you don’t propose killing them - I mean you are not setting out to do that, are you?”
My head had been spinning with possibilities as to how best to deal with this dilemma, and as fast as they came, I discarded them. There was no simple solution - Trichardt wasn’t going to go away.
“No, but if he continues to pursue us, then it just may happen. The police now know what the situation is and will not hesitate to take action.”
At that moment, Whittle entered.
“Well gentleman,” he said. “Is there anything you would like to add to what I already know?”
“No,” I replied, “But wouldn’t you like to put forward a suggestion or two, assuming you were in our shoes?” I ventured.
“Well, first off, your friend should climb aboard his aircraft and take it to somewhere else, just get away from the Caymans. That’ll keep the women safe.”
We both agreed.
“I believe you are decent people, and while you are not necessarily illegal in the eyes of the law, you have done something to really piss this man off. I mean, he seems to be screaming for revenge. Why else employ Carruthers? Choosing Carruthers to assist him has only aggravated the problem - they don’t come worse than Carruthers, believe me. But it is the appearance of Carruthers that makes your problem my problem. I want him and I will get him this time,” Whittle said.
Gavin and I just looked at each other. I certainly wasn’t going to say any more- it had all already been said. I was getting the distinct feeling that Whittle was using us as bait. Was I wrong?
“All right, I’ll leave you two alone for a while.” Whittle turned to look at Gavin. “Mr McCreedy, I’ll collect you in half an hour.”
A pregnant silence descended on the room. We did not speak for a while.
I wasn’t sure I had read Whittle correctly but it seemed Maria and I would not be leaving the island for a while. Anyway, we couldn’t leave if we wanted to; we had no papers as we had left these on the ski-boat. I wondered whether it was wise to approach Whittle on this. Would he help me retrieve our passports and my other documents? A passport was probably Maria’s only concern, as she required no other documents that I knew of.
The next day Gavin left the island, departing in the early evening with both his wife and Francine aboard. The two had not been able to visit us and as ungrateful and cold-hearted as this may sound, it was probably better that the two women not see us in our injured state. They headed for Fort de France, the capital of the island of Martinique, chosen because the French were known to be more accommodating when it came to South Africans and allowed South Africans entrance to their country at short notice.
Whittle continued his twenty-four watch on Maria and I; a security guard was never out of sight. As we recuperated, we were not permitted to leave the hospital building. After three days, the doctor had insisted that Maria leave her bed and she shuffled around the corridors hanging on to her drip stand. At least we could now sit together in the cafeteria although our ever-present guards always hovered nearby.
We decided that the moment we were sufficiently mobile, we would take an inter-island commercial flight to Martinique and join up with our companions. Whittle refused to listen to this and remained adamant , even threatening us with arrest, stating that we were not permitted to leave the island until he was absolutely certain that we were free from any further reprisals from Carruthers or Trichardt. He added that to the best of his knowledge, the two men were still on the island, although their exact whereabouts were unknown.
He was convinced it was not over yet.
After about a week, we received a surprise visit from Johnny and John Senior, returning our belongings. Our experiences had forged a friendship and it was a happy reunion. They told us that the police had grilled them incessantly after they had returned to the harbour at Bottom Bay, but had eventually accepted their story and that their intentions were merely designed to help us avoid Carruthers. Of course, the exchange of gunfire between the boats had come up, but by then the police had established that both Maria and I had been armed and that we had only responded when the ski-boat was fired on by the crew of the cabin cruiser. The police had our weapons.
All considered, we were in a unique position. We had our passports back, we had police protection, and we had sufficient funds to finance anything we might need. We had broken no laws; the only problem that confronted us was Trichardt and Carruthers.
Finally discharged from hospital, we decided we wanted to return to Bess and Christopher at the Beach Hotel. Initially Whittle baulked at the idea but then relented, provided no one objected to him placing a twenty-four hour guard on the hotel.
Our hired Ford Transit van was returned to us and we drove back to the hotel shadowed by a police vehicle.
Nothing prepared us for the incredulous looks of surprise and astonishment we received on our arrival at the hotel. Bess and Christopher ushered us into the bar, still trying to accept that that we were back and still alive!
Nevertheless, there was no missing their glances at the police vehicle and its occupants and when one of them took up station on the porch, their concern was obviously apparent.
I saw this.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “He’s only here for us and won’t interfere with you at all. I’ve the superintendent’s word on it. He said he had no axe to grind with you, and in fact, is grateful for the assistance you gave us. He reckoned we could be dead had you not helped.” I tried to allay their concerns.
Their expressions left me with the impression that the recent developments were difficult for them to believe. However, once the superintendent had departed and the guard made himself nearly inconspicuous, it soon it was all smiles,
Both Maria and I felt naked without our automatics considering what we’d been through, but Whittle remained resolute.
”No guns,” he said. “You’re fortunate that no charges have been pressed for illegal possession of firearms. You will not get our weapons back.”
From Christopher, I established that he had eventually come clean and told Bess that he had warned us of the eminent arrival of Carruthers’s men allowing us to escape timeously. Apparently, she had soon overcome her shock and actually praised him for his courage.
“What will Carruthers actually do if he knew?” I asked in concern.
He merely shrugged his shoulders as if to say, there was little that could be done about it now.
“Carruthers must surely know that the police are protecting you and also protecting the hotel. I see no problems,” Bess said cheerfully.
I wish I could believe her.
This was far from over.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Carruthers was adamant. No move against the man and woman was to be taken while they still were held at the hospital at Stoke Bay. No warrant of arrest had been issued, but still it seemed that the police were expecting something to happen, as they had left two guards at the hospital. From an informer, they received continuous updates on the progress of the two patients and learnt that they were up and about, but that the hospital superintendent would not allow them to leave the confines of the hospital. Carruthers insisted that his men keep a low profile. None of them was permitted to leave the house or the local beach.
Diamonds Are But Stone Page 25
