“I wouldn't know about that,” Kelly said, “but it sure tastes good. Philip, I detect an accent I can’t place. Where are you from?”
“I live in the Florida Keys. I recently moved there from Australia, and when I heard there was a remote Cuban island called Cayo Largo, which means Key Largo in English, I had to come and see what it was like. We have an island in the Florida Keys called Key Largo, and I wanted to see what the differences were between the two islands that share the same name. From everything I’ve learned about it, the fishing is supposed to be fantastic at Cayo Largo, and I live to fish.
“I also wanted to meet Jack. When I talked to the company who sponsors these trips, I mentioned I’d just started a fishing guide business in Florida, and I told them I would be interested in guiding for them here in Cuba if they were looking for American guides. That's when they told me they had invited a man from Northern California by the name of Jack Trout to see if he’d be interested in working with them. They suggested I talk to Jack. I had a business in Australia, but my wife is from Connecticut, and when our son was born, she insisted we move back to be near her parents. I really didn't want to return to the States, but here I am. Actually, it's kind of nice to get some time away from my wife and at the same time have an opportunity to do some quality fly fishing at Cayo Largo,” he said.
Out of the corner of her eye Kelly noticed Carola giving Jack a look that more or less said, “If I have anything to say about it, and I do, this man will never work with or for you.”
Jack changed the subject and said, “See the people at the table over there and the guy at the head of the table wearing glasses and a blue fishing shirt? His name is Dudley Samms, and he’s a fly fishing guide who caters to English and German fishermen. He's quite well known in Europe, and I've read about him in several fishing magazines. He's brought a fairly large group with him. Looks like about twenty people.” Jack laughed and said, "Matter of fact, I recently read he was interested in adding American clients to his list of those who want to fish at Cayo Largo. Seems like there are a lot of people interested in developing this type of business.”
He was interrupted by two waiters bringing them plates of lobster tails. The meat had been extracted from the shells and then attractively placed back in them for effect. No one spoke for several minutes while they ate. When Jack was finished, he stood up and said, “I'm going over and introduce myself to Dudley. Since he'll be on the flight to Cayo Largo with us tomorrow, I think I should meet him.”
A few minutes later he came back to the table. “Well, Jack, what do you think of him?” Carola asked.
“I feel like a gauntlet has been thrown down. His words to me after I introduced myself and put out my hand were, ‘It's always nice to meet my competition for the new business that will be coming from the United States, but from what I hear, I don't think you're going to be much competition. Thanks for coming over, and I'll be seeing you.’ He never shook my hand, and he turned back to his group, leaving me standing there like I wasn’t even there. I don't think I've ever had anyone be so rude to me. Wow! Wonder if he's that way with his clients?”
“How dare he?” Carola hissed, a caricature at the moment of a hot-blooded South American woman. “You're the best fly fishing guide in the United States. You take people to Chile, British Columbia, Argentina, and all over the United States. Your clients love you, they always catch lots of fish, and a large percentage of them are repeat clients. Sounds to me like he's really scared of you as well he should be.”
“Looks like there's going to be some healthy competition for the right to bring Americans to Cuba to go fly fishing at Cayo Largo,” Philip said, standing up. “I've enjoyed talking to you. It's going to be a short night and since there are bound to be some Cuban beauties on Cayo Largo, and my wife's not with me, I better get some sleep, so I’ll be rested and ready to party with them. See you in the morning. By the way, I was right. That was a lousy mojito.” He put some Cuban pesos on the table for his drink and the lobster and walked down the stairs at the far end of the outdoor dining area.
The four of them were quiet for a few minutes, digesting what had taken place. Mike was the first to speak, “Jack, watch your back while you’re down here in Cuba. Been my experience when there's money to be made a lot of people are willing to do anything to get it. Don't want you to become a statistic.”
Jack laughed. “Sheriff, leave your law enforcement experience at home. This is a fishing trip, not one of your whodunits. I'll be fine.”
Later, Jack wished he'd paid more attention to Mike's prophetic words.
CHAPTER 3
They met in the lobby at 3:30 the next morning. Philip and Dudley's group were already there, drinking coffee and eating sweet rolls. Philip walked over to each person in Dudley's group, introduced himself, and handed them a business card. One of the men looked at it and dropped it on the floor.
“What do you suppose Philip's doing? I can't imagine Dudley would be very happy with whatever it is. I'd love to know what's on his business card,” Jack said.
“I need some more coffee, let me see if I can find out,” Kelly said. She walked by the table where the man had dropped the card, stooped down, and picked it up. She turned towards the people sitting at the table and said, “Looks like someone dropped this card.”
She held it in her hand, but no one claimed it. She stuck it in her pocket and refilled her coffee. When she returned to the table where Jack, Carola, and Mike were sitting she handed it to Jack and said, “Here it is. I didn't have time to look at it. What does it say?”
Jack read it and looked up. “This is pretty amazing. It's got his name, telephone number, the name of his company, and then at the very bottom in bold type it reads ‘You Deserve the Best Cuban Fishing Guide. If You Book Any Other Guide, You're Getting One That's Second Rate!’ This guy must be on some kind of an ego trip considering the company that arranged this trip told me they want to deal exclusively with me. I don't think they're negotiating with anyone else at the moment.”
“I have a really bad feeling about that guy, Jack,” Carola said, “I don't want you to have anything to do with him. Over my dead body he'll ever work for you.”
“You don't need to worry, Carola. I don't think any of Dudley's group will be interested in him either. If he was any good I think he would have developed a following in Australia, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. I’ve never seen his name advertised in any of the fishing magazines or newspapers. I'll bet he bombed out down there, and now he's trying to tap into the American market. I don't think we're going to have much, if any, Internet service when we get to Cayo Largo, but if we do, Carola, would you see if you can find out anything about him?”
“Sure. Look, a bus just drove up, and everybody's heading toward the front door, pulling their suitcases. Jack, want me to help carry the fly rods? We've done well getting everything here so far, and I'd hate for something to happen on the last leg of our flights to Cayo Largo.”
“No. I'm fine. Take your luggage out to where they're loading it on the bus, and I'll make sure it gets on. Go get us a comfortable seat. See you in a few minutes.”
*****
They drove through the dark streets of Havana at 4:00 that morning with the streetlights being their only frames of reference. “Mike, I've never seen anything like this. Look at all these people out at this time of night, or should I say early morning? Wonder what's going on,” she said as they drove by what looked like a large park.
“Hate to shatter any illusions you have, sweetheart, but I think you may be looking at proof that the oldest profession in the world is alive and well here in Havana. Too many attractive young women in skirts too short to be making their way to jobs in the downtown business district.”
"Do you really think that's what's happening?”
“It's not something you see in Cedar Bay, but yes, I definitely think that's what’s happening. And from the lack of any law enforcement personnel around, I’d say it is s
imply a case of willing buyer meets willing seller.”
“Well, this is a first for me. I haven’t seen anything like that before.”
“Look at it this way. We're really in unchartered territory. We've never seen a city like Havana or its airport, and we’ve never been on a flight at this ungodly hour. Everything is new to us.”
After stopping at numerous hotels in Havana and picking up more passengers who were bound for Cayo Largo, the bus pulled into the parking lot of a small regional airport. It was still pitch dark, and once again they had to go through Immigration and security. The security guard made Kelly take her curling iron out of her large carry-on and said something Kelly couldn't understand. Fortunately Carola was directly behind her and told Kelly she'd have to go through the door marked "Private" and put the curling iron in her checked suitcase. After a long wait in the hot and stuffy waiting area, they boarded the plane to Cayo Largo and took off just as dawn was breaking. The gold and light blue colors of the morning sky shined on the scattered puffy white clouds below them. Kelly looked out the window at the blue-green ocean beneath the plane and saw numerous tiny uninhabited islands scattered like little mounds of chocolate in the vast blue sea. She'd read that over 350 small islands comprised the archipelago of which Cayo Largo was a part.
After a short forty minute flight, the plane began its descent, and Kelly saw several large oceanfront hotels facing the bright blue Caribbean. A few minutes later they stepped off the plane and instantly became wet with perspiration caused by the high heat and humidity. As they walked across the tarmac to the small airport building, Kelly thought she heard the sounds of salsa music coming from the building.
I've only been here a few minutes, and already I must be hallucinating. Maybe it's the heat and the humidity. There is no way anyone could be playing salsa music at this hour of the morning. I mean, who would have the energy?
She followed the other passengers into the building and realized the music hadn’t been her imagination. At the far end of the building a Cuban couple was dancing to the salsa music accompanied by three musicians.
“Mike, can you believe it? They’re really good. I've always wished I could dance like that.”
“Tell you what,” Carola said. “I'll do it for you. I grew up with this kind of music, and every time I go back home to Chile, we salsa dance.” She put down her carry-on luggage and walked over to the couple. Every eye in the airport was riveted on the beautiful small Chilean woman wearing a bright turquoise tube top and short white skirt, sandals tossed off, and looking like a local resident as she started dancing with the Cuban man. The Cuban woman stopped dancing and walked over to the musicians, allowing Carola to take her place. Carola and the man danced until the sounds of luggage being placed on the baggage carousel were heard.
”You were wonderful,” Kelly said to Carola. “That was so much fun to watch.”
“Sure was,” a voice said behind them. Kelly turned and saw Philip standing there. “Carola, I'd sure like you to teach me how to dance like that. I'd even pay you, so I could get that close to you.”
Carola looked at him coldly and said, “No thanks.” She turned and walked away.
Jack heard the interchange and said, “Little harsh, weren't you, Carola. Maybe the poor guy just wants to learn how to dance salsa.”
“Sorry, Jack. That man is not someone I want anything to do with. And I sure as heck don't want to be close enough to him to dance. He makes my skin crawl. The mere thought of being that close to him makes me want to retch,” she said as she walked out the door and stood next to the bus that was waiting to take them to their hotel.
Kelly was standing nearby and had watched and heard the interchange between Carola and Philip. She turned to Mike and said, “I don't trust Philip. When Carola turned him down on his offer to pay her for teaching him how to salsa dance he gave her a downright murderous look. Don't think he's used to being turned down much.”
“Yeah, I noticed it too. I'll keep an eye out for him. My internal radar kind of goes on high alert when he's around. Come on, time to get to the resort for our next adventure, and right now I'm ready for a sleep adventure, although at this early hour I doubt if our room will be ready."
After a short drive from the airport the bus pulled up to a large yellow and white resort which had numerous detached two story housing units for guests scattered around the five acre complex. Check-in consisted of showing their passports to the clerk, signing a form, and being told that their rooms would be ready in about two hours. They were invited to have breakfast at the open-air buffet restaurant that was next to the lobby. Kelly and Mike counted the minutes until they could go to their room and take a nap. The head guide of the fishing group that had invited Jack to Cuba, Bartolo Fishing Adventures, told Jack he would pick Mike and Jack up at 3:00 that afternoon for an orientation at the nearby fishing club.
CHAPTER 4
When their room was ready Kelly and Mike had a bellboy drive them in a golf cart to the building where it was located. It was on the second floor with floor to ceiling windows looking out at the Caribbean and the beach. The blue and white room reflected the blue color of the Caribbean and the sparkling white sand beach. They looked approvingly around at the room they would call home for the coming days and thought it was perfect for their needs.
A few hours later, Kelly and Mike woke up from their naps, put on shorts and gauzy shirts, and headed for the reception area to meet Jack and then go to the fishing club for an orientation on how the fishing for the upcoming days was going to be managed. Kelly had never liked to fish, but she was curious about why Cayo Largo was considered to be a fisherman's paradise. She decided to go with Jack and Mike to the orientation, plus she wanted to know what the plans were.
Bartolo Fishing Adventures maintained a small clubhouse at the nearby marina that was used by their fishermen clients to refresh themselves before and after they went fishing. Beer, water, snacks, and a bathroom were available. The clubhouse walls were covered with photos of successful fishermen holding their catch.
Guido, the head fishing guide, and one of his guides spent the next hour telling Mike and Jack what to expect for the next few days and showing them maps of where they would be fishing and what kind of fish they would be targeting. Guido explained they would be fishing out of sixteen foot outboard motor boats equipped with a 70 horsepower motor. Each boat would have two fishermen, however only one person could fish at a time. He told them that after a fast trip to the nearby saltwater flats the guide turns the motor off and then stands on a small metal four foot high platform mounted at the rear of the boat. While standing on the raised platform the guide is able to quietly move the boat by pushing it with a long twenty-five foot plastic pole.
“The fish you are trying to catch are quite skittish and spook very easily,” Guido said. “That’s why it’s important to quietly pole the boat until you are within easy casting distance. The water on the salt flats is only two to three feet deep and it is quite clear, which makes it easy for the guide to spot the location of the fish. A good experienced guide can pole the boat so quietly you can often get to within ten to twenty feet of the fish, and it will never hear you.”
At the end of the one hour orientation they were given special flies they could use for their catch and release fishing. They also received instructions on how to cast and a walk-through of the protocol they were to follow while fishing from the boat. As they were walking back from the dock where the boats were tied up, Kelly spotted a door with three brightly colored fish painted on it surrounded by brilliantly blooming purple bougainvillea plants. “Excuse me, could you tell me what the meaning is of the words on that door?” Kelly asked Guido.
“Si, senora,” the handsome Cuban man said. “The words on the door, ‘Grand Slam Club,’ is in reference to an exclusive club, but very few fishermen achieve a grand slam.”
“Pardon me for being ignorant, but I have no idea what you're talking about,” Kelly said.
; “In fishing jargon here on the island a grand slam refers to a fisherman who catches a tarpon, a bonefish, and a permit all on the same day. It allows them to apply for membership in this very exclusive club which is called the Grand Slam Club. Very few people are able to do it.”
“Is the clubhouse behind the door with the fish painted on it?” Kelly asked.
“No, there isn’t a physical clubhouse anywhere. If someone qualifies, they fill out an application form that asks when and where they caught their fish. Then they’re sent a certificate by an international fishing organization. There’s also a super grand slam club, but it's even harder to qualify for it. To qualify for the super grand slam the fisherman must catch the three fish I mentioned plus a fish called a snook, all in the same day.”
Kelly turned to Mike and Jack who had followed them up to the clubhouse from the dock. “Well, guys, if we're going to come all this way down here to Cuba, might as well see if either one of you, or hopefully both of you, can become members of the Grand Slam Club. Don't know how important it is in the scheme of things, but sure might give you some major bragging rights when you get back home.”
“Don't worry, Kelly, I'll do my best to see that Mike qualifies to become a member of the Grand Slam Club,” Jack said with a smile on his face.
They were interrupted by the sounds of a taxi arriving along with loud German and English voices. “Sergio, go get the rest of the guides,” Guido said. “Sounds like Dudley's group has arrived. Oh, and remember to tell the cab driver to come back at 6:00. Philip insisted on fishing today and being shown where the other groups are going to be fishing.”
“Why would Philip want to know that?” Kelly asked. “Where Mike and Jack fish doesn't affect him.”
“That's true, but evidently he paid his guide quite a bit extra if he would give him that information. He said he wanted to outfish them. I have no idea why,” Guido said.
Murder in Cuba Page 2
