Wreck of the Raptor

by Nicholas Harvey

Ainsley’s expression changed and he cautiously eyed Whitey up and down. “Wait a second here,” he said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “I sense a change, man. Something’s different with the Snowman.” Ainsley threw his hands in the air dramatically. “Whitey closed the deal, man! That’s what it is!”

  Whitey shook his head and really wanted to keep a straight face but the sight of Ainsley dancing around the boat in front of him was too much and he burst out laughing.

  “You plonker, have some respect, you heathen, she’s a lady,” Whitey said between laughs, trying to deflect the conversation.

  Ainsley stopped dancing and turned serious again. “Hold on, man. This thing that took place; it didn’t take place in my car did it?”

  Whitey frowned at him. “No! You idiot, she’s a lady damn it, she’s not the quick-shag-in-a-car type.”

  Ainsley started dancing again. “Thank the Lord for that, wouldn’t be able to drive my beautiful Capri anymore without worrying about the seats and all, you know?” He burst out laughing once more and Whitey gave up and moved his gear to the dive tank Ainsley had brought along. He attached the Scubapro pack to the tank with its strap and cinched it tight before fitting his Aqualung regulator to the valve and laying the assembly down on the deck. Ainsley had settled down and watched Whitey put his rig together.

  “So, we’re gonna go back to the wreck and get the key you just hid in there?” he asked, still clearly confused with Whitey’s change of plans.

  Whitey looked up. “Yeah, we’ll grab the key, head to the bank, put the cash in and then when I’m back in Miami I’ll leave the key where I know they’ll find it.”

  Ainsley was still unsure. “And you say you can’t just tell this guy you want to resign? Give him the key and say you don’t want to work for him no more?”

  Whitey stood up and laughed with little humour in his response. “If you met Gabriel Cavero you’d understand, mate. Or even worse, his old man. The family doesn’t understand ‘I don’t want to work for you anymore’. That’s not in their lingo, mate.”

  Ainsley shook his head slowly. “You know these people, man; just seems crazy to me they wouldn’t be happy you’ve found a nice lady and are moving to this beautiful place.”

  Whitey wagged his finger at Ainsley. “No, no, no, they don’t know anything about Isabella and they certainly don’t know I’m moving here.” Whitey put a hand on Ainsley’s shoulder. “Listen my friend, I’ve worked for them for two years, and in that time, I know of several people that worked for the family and left their employment. They’re all dead.” He leaned back against the side of the boat. “This one bloke, Miguel, great guy, I met him a bunch of times. He managed their crops in the valley. His second in command goes to the old man and tells him Miguel is stealing from them, taking some of the product and selling it on the side. Bang!” Whitey held up his fingers like a gun. “Bullet to the back of the head. A month later they figure out it was the other guy that was stealing, and Miguel was a loyal worker who had been set up, so this bloke could take over his job. Bang! Another bullet to the head, and now they’re scrambling to find someone who could run their operation. Believe me mate, they’re paranoid as hell and they’ll pop someone just cos they suspect something, leave alone telling them I don’t want to work for them anymore.”

  Ainsley was wide eyed. “That’s crazy, man. I hope I never meet a Cavero.”

  Whitey stepped off the stern into the waist-deep water and started towards the beach to get the anchor. He looked back as he walked. “You won’t have to. This will be our last trip out to the Raptor. If I ever dive this wreck again, I hope it’s simply for fun.”

  Whitey noticed Ainsley was staring past him to the beach and didn’t seem to hear what he’d been saying. He turned as he reached the sand and looked up to see a familiar, slender man standing next to the anchor wearing white linen pants and a loose cotton, button-down shirt.

  “Hola, mi hermano,” Gabriel Cavero said without a smile. “Perhaps you can explain why the key you gave me opened an empty box at the bank.”

  Chapter 58

  November 2019

  AJ knew they would drift quite a way, but when she and Hazel surfaced after their safety stops, she was still stunned how small the island looked in the distance.

  “Damn, six minutes on the line, maybe another minute ascending from thirty to fifteen, then to the boat, that’s seven minutes and we must have gone nearly half a mile. What’s that Reg?” AJ pulled herself to the stern using the ropes strung along the inflatable sides of the boat. He looked down as the two shuffled themselves to the ladder.

  “Hell if I know, you’re the one that likes doing lots of math.”

  Reg took their fins as they climbed aboard and dropped their rigs in the nearest rack. Hazel looked at the island, noticing it was a lot farther away than when they’d left the boat, as AJ had pointed out.

  “Wow, must be over a kilometre.”

  Reg looked from one to the other with his hands on his hips. “Well? When you’re done mentally masturbating the distance to the shore, you gonna tell me what happened?”

  Hazel looked up at him. AJ could see she was still unsure when the man was acting mad, or indeed was mad. AJ laughed. “It was a bust. We need something to cut it with, threads are seized up.”

  Hazel dropped the filter wrench on the floor and stared up at Reg. “Yeah, your fancy tool didn’t work,” she said sternly.

  Reg took a beat before cracking up laughing. Then again, maybe she has figured out the big man, AJ realised, as Hazel broke into a big smile.

  “We have a good saw aboard?” Hazel asked. “If not we should head back and pick up something.”

  “I have a small hacksaw in the toolkit but it’s not great,” AJ said, pulling her wetsuit down and tying the arms around her waist.

  Reg pulled the ladder up and started the outboards. “Nah, let’s go ahead and run the 1.216 miles to the dock.” He rolled his eyes at AJ. “I got a real saw that’ll rip through that tin like butter, I’ll grab it from the house. We’ll be back out before you’ve finished your surface interval.”

  Reg piloted them back to his jetty and AJ tied them in to the cleats of the empty dock. She watched Reg march up the dock and head out in his Land Rover towards his house just a mile away. She glanced at her watch before turning to Hazel, still sitting on the boat.

  “Come on, let’s grab some fruit and a juice, we’ve got fifteen minutes before he’s back.”

  Hazel didn’t need asking twice; she jumped to the jetty and followed AJ to her van. Two minutes later they parked by Heritage Kitchen and walked briskly to the counter. A full-figured Caymanian woman in a blue chef’s hat greeted them with a broad smile as they stood there, dripping water on the pavement from their wetsuits.

  “Afternoon, Miss Grece,” AJ said warmly.

  “Hi there AJ, how can I help you two?” Miss Grece asked politely in a thick Caymanian accent.

  “Could we get some slices of fruit to share and three juices – whatever you have going today is fine,” AJ replied.

  “Hi there girls,” Josephine’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “Want some barbecue? It’s our Sunday special.”

  “Just getting some refreshers between dives, Josephine; some fruit and three juices please,” AJ answered without bothering to explain she didn’t eat meat.

  Josephine gave her a thumbs-up through the serving window from the kitchen. “Sounds good, Miss Grece will get your drinks, I’ll see what I can put together back here.”

  AJ waved back and Miss Grece rang them up before pouring out three fruit juices. A few minutes later, after furious chopping sounds emanated from the kitchen, Josephine handed a tupperware stuffed full of fresh mango, pineapple, and guava through the window. Miss Grece passed it to the women. “There you go.”

  “Thanks Miss Grece,” AJ said, taking the fruit and scooping up two of the drinks. “I’ll bring your container back tomorrow, Josephine,” she called to the kitchen.

  A h
and waved back and after leaving a generous tip with Miss Grece, the two returned to the van.

  As they closed the doors and AJ started the van, Hazel looked over at her. “I love this place,” she said softly. “You’re a perfect fit here, I see why you’ve made it your home.”

  AJ smiled warmly. “Yeah, I wake up every day and thank my lucky stars.” She turned the van around and glanced over at Hazel as she pulled away. “Maybe it can be your home too.”

  Hazel smiled broadly and started to reply but something stopped her, and she stayed quiet, looking out across the water.

  AJ parked the van, noting Reg’s Land Rover wasn’t back yet. They walked down the jetty, sipping on the refreshing fruit juice and chatting about the next dive. They both knew they needed to get the filter off, or at least get into it, this next dive. They couldn’t keep making these risky dives on the wreck without running into trouble at some point. The odds dictated it, no matter how careful they were. They sat down on the end of the dock and let their legs dangle over, their feet hanging just above the water. AJ opened the tupperware and they eagerly dived into the fruit slices. As they sat there, drying in the warm sun enjoying their refreshing snack, she realised she hadn’t thought about her issues with Hazel all afternoon. The feeling was warm and comforting. She was reminded of why she fell into friendship so quickly with this woman; she simply enjoyed being around her.

  The jetty vibrated with footsteps, and AJ was relieved Reg was back; she was eager to return to the wreck. She turned and saw it wasn’t Reg approaching. A man in his forties with thick, dark hair and wearing beige chinos and a pale blue guayabera shirt strode confidently down the dock. As he closed, he removed his wire-rimmed designer sunglasses and spoke in a heavy Hispanic accent.

  “Good afternoon, you are the owner of this dive boat, yes?”

  AJ stood and ran through her current bookings in her mind, trying to recall if she had any openings. “I am, I’m AJ Bailey; can I help you, sir?”

  The man looked down at Hazel, still seated. “And this is Hazel Delacroix, I believe?” the man said casually.

  AJ was completely taken aback and confused. Hazel slowly stood up and turned to face him. The man reached to the back of his shirt and when his hand returned it was holding a gun. He held it close to his body, pointed at the ground, out of sight from everyone except the girls. AJ gasped and Hazel stood motionless.

  “I am Gabriel Cavero, Junior. I believe you have something that belongs to my family.”

  Chapter 59

  July 1974

  Whitey didn’t need to see it to know that Gabriel had a gun tucked under his shirt. The man always carried a gun. He scanned the beach to see if he’d brought any of his goons, but didn’t see anyone else. Whitey knew, regardless of anything he could say, he was in a really bad situation. A sadness rushed through him as he realised he was unlikely to see another sunset. His first thoughts were how to get Ainsley out of this mess, and how to keep Isabella out of it.

  “Hello Gabriel,” he said boldly; this was no time to appear weak. “That’s the old box, like I said to you. I needed to get a bigger one, you keep making too much money mate, hard to find a box big enough.”

  Gabriel smiled but his eyes were cold and angry. “You couldn’t fit ten grand in the box I opened, my friend. I suggest you stick to telling me the truth.”

  Whitey kicked himself for his frugal nature; why the hell did he get the cheapest safety deposit box available? That was the only play he’d had, and he’d been called out on the first move. Honesty was the only way to go now. Somehow, he had to get Ainsley out of this. He wished his friend would untie the lines at the boat and just leave. But he knew Ainsley wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave him.

  “Gabby, let’s go up to the hotel, grab some coffee, and I’ll tell you exactly how I’ve buggered some things up. All the money is safe; we can go to the bank together and I’ll show you.”

  Gabriel ignored the invitation and looked around Whitey to the boat, and the Caymanian standing motionless at the helm.

  “This your island contact? The man you told me that’s been helping you?”

  Whitey’s heart sank. Cavero was too cagey to leave loose ends.

  “He’s just a local guy with a boat I hire sometimes, Gabby, he’s nothing to do with this. Come on, let’s go up to the shade and sit and talk. I promise, I’ll tell you everything.”

  Gabriel looked back at Whitey, searching his face like he’d done back in Peru. Whitey felt like the man was scanning his brain, reading his intentions and truths from his expression.

  “So is the money in this bank?” Gabriel asked quietly.

  “Yes Gabby, it’s in a safety deposit box as I told you – just not the one you had the key for,” Whitey answered carefully, knowing he needed to be truthful but scared to back himself into a corner.

  “All of it?” Gabby asked pointedly.

  Whitey hesitated, thinking through the consequences of his answer. He prayed Isabella was out of the room by now.

  “No, the latest cases are in the hotel, the other two deliveries are in the bank.”

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Why is the new delivery in your hotel and not in the bank? You told me you had a guarded escort straight to the bank?”

  “I needed to get the key before I could go to the bank,” Whitey answered and immediately knew he was now on his way down the rabbit hole.

  “Where’s the real key?” Gabriel snapped.

  Whitey sighed. “I hid it,” he said quietly, the boldness gone as he slipped perilously along the slope of the inevitable.

  “Which is where you and your accomplice were heading, I assume?” Gabriel correctly speculated.

  Whitey searched his mind for a path that didn’t lead back to exactly the spot he was in at this very moment, anything plausible that would get Ainsley out of this mess. He couldn’t think of any scenario that didn’t involve retrieving the key, short of telling Cavero to go to hell. He was confident how that would end. His only option was to buy time. The longer they could stay alive the more chances they’d have to get out of this.

  “Correct. It’s on a shipwreck off the north-west corner of the island.”

  Knowing Gabriel hated boats and couldn’t swim, Whitey was confident there was no way he’d go out with them.

  “We’ll go out and get the key, it’ll take about forty-five minutes. We’ll meet you back here at the beach and you and I can go to the bank, Gabby.”

  Gabriel sneered. “I wait here on this lovely beach and you two take off in a boat with all my money hidden somewhere on this island, and I should expect you’ll be back here in forty-five minutes? You insult me.”

  Whitey tried one more play. Had he been wrong about Gabby? Were they the good friends the Peruvian had always portrayed? Or was he right to believe that it was all a facade? He was about to find out.

  “Gabby, we’ve been friends for two years: you know me. I’m telling you I made a mistake giving you a fake key, but I was scared, mate. I thought if I had an insurance policy, I’d be safer, but it was a terrible mistake, which I was about to rectify. Literally, today I was squaring it all away and getting you the real key. You and your family have been so good to me, I owe you a lot. There’s no way I’d ever try and rip you off, you gotta believe that?”

  Gabriel moved towards Whitey so they stood three feet apart, and stared him straight in the eye. The look on Gabriel’s face gave Whitey his answer and the man’s voice, flat and cold, confirmed it.

  “You lied to me Whitey. I called you a friend and I trusted you. You’re right, my family took you in and gave you everything you have. And you repay us by trying to steal from us and feed me all this bullshit. I don’t believe a word you tell me anymore.”

  Whitey expected Gabriel wouldn’t believe him, but he didn’t expect the words he heard next.

  “Get in the boat, we’re going to this wreck to get the key.”

  Chapter 60

  November 2019

&n
bsp; AJ stared at the gun in the stranger’s hand. She had no idea what kind of gun it was, beyond a handgun, but she was sure it was the kind designed to go bang and kill things. That’s what guns are for after all. She wondered how on earth he managed to get a gun on the island; the Caymans had very strict gun laws and there’s no way he had brought it through airport security. He must have found a black-market source which would have taken some doing – the Cayman Islands were considered one of the safest destinations in the Caribbean.

  The man turned his focus to Hazel, his eyes cold and hateful. “Give me the key.”

  Hazel answered more calmly than AJ thought she could have mustered. “I don’t have it, why do you think we’re diving the wreck?”

  Junior lifted his chin and sneered, “What do you mean? I’ve watched you two diving out there,” he nodded towards the north-west point. “You saying the key is out there?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying, it was hidden on the wreck; I’ve been trying to find it,” Hazel responded boldly. AJ was glad Hazel was doing all the talking as she had no idea what to say. “I’m pretty sure the whole thing’s bullshit and there is no key,” Hazel added.

  Junior visibly tensed on the gun. “Then I guess I have no use for you,” he spat at her, “or your friend here.”

  Hazel held up her hands. “Wait up. Worth one more look, don’t you think?” she quickly responded, less boldly.

  He laughed, without a trace of humour in his tone. “You don’t want to lie to me, woman.”

  “She’s not lying,” AJ blurted out. “We were going back out there now, to try again.”

  Junior looked around for a moment and then back at the boat tied up next to them. He nodded at AJ’s RIB boat. “In this?”

  AJ looked at her boat, confused why he seemed surprised they’d be using that boat. “Yeah, that’s my boat.”

  He kept the gun hidden at his waist, but his fingers were nervously moving on the handle, and he appeared unsure what to do next.