by Fred Galvin
She thought she could scream all she wanted to and no one would hear her. Now she really had to find a way to put her plan into action. Shit indeed! Her primary hope was that Roje would insist on speaking with her to be sure she was okay. That would give her a chance to implement her plan.
“Vernon, I’m hungry. I don’t suppose you can order up some bammy and jerk chicken from the kitchen?”
Chapter 23: “The last man who threatened my sister …”
When Roje arrived at the Sea Nymph Gillian was nowhere to be seen which did not surprise him. He was sure Gillian wanted to be positive he had come alone as instructed. So he boarded and prepared to embark while he waited for Gillian to appear.
After ten minutes he was ready and sat down in the fighting chair with a mug of strong coffee to wait. He did not own a gun but had put one of his small bats into one of his cargo pants pockets. It was not the one that had sent Fast Frankie Finacci to his watery grave, that one went into the Atlantic tied to a heavy hammer, but it was identical. He very much wanted to use it on Gillian but knew he couldn’t as long as he was not sure about Ronika’s safety.
Gillian emerged out of the darkness and boarded the boat. He was dressed in black jeans and a black shirt. Roje could see he was carrying a pistol in his right hand. “It appears you have followed instructions well and that we are alone. Good.” He held up the pistol. “I really don’t want to have to use this but I will if necessary.”
Roje sat in the fighting chair calm on the outside but seething internally. Without rising he said in a cold, even voice, “I could say that I really don’t want to toss you into the middle of the ocean with a chain around your neck, but that would be a lie.”
Gillian was taken aback momentarily, knowing Roje wouldn’t hesitate for one second to carry out his threat if he discovered his sister was out of harm’s way. He quickly recovered. “Let’s just do what we have to do. You won’t see me again and your sister will return safely. Now stand up and empty your pockets.”
Shit, thought Roje. He pulled out his billfold and some change, his car keys, and his smartphone. Gillian motioned with his gun, “The cargo pants pockets too … slowly.” His gun was aimed at Roje’s gut.
Roje pulled out the small bat and held it. Gillian took a step back. “Throw it over the side, now!” Roje complied and the bat hit the water with a splash.
Roje faced Gillian and moved toward him ignoring the gun. No more than one foot separated their faces. His eyes burned into Gillian’s. “Make no mistake, Gillian Whyte. I will see you again.” There was a pause as the two glared at each other. Roje moved even closer. “And know this. The last man who threatened my sister ended up dead on a beach.”
Gillian was the first to blink. “Enough of this shit. Let’s get going.”
They quietly left the marina on glassy smooth waters. Roje was at the helm, Gillian several feet behind him, the gun still in his hand. The not-so-veiled threat Roje had hissed had shaken him. Roje’s eyes conveyed the message that he was deadly serious. Gillian had momentarily questioned himself about the wisdom of using this hard-headed boat captain, then reassured himself that it was all planned out and, if followed, the plan would deliver his brother and him to wealth and freedom.
As they made it to the outside open sea, Gillian called out, “Here’s your heading. Nineteen degrees nineteen minutes north by eighty-one degrees five minutes west. Key those into your GPS and open it up full. It will be dawn soon but while it’s still dark, no running lights.”
Roje entered the coordinates into the GPS and adjusted the boat’s heading. He did a mental calculation based on the coordinates. They were directing the Sea Nymph almost due west which would take them to the Cayman Islands or the Yucatan, probably Cozumel. He figured their destination was most likely the former which he knew from previous charters to be a little over 200 miles. While he had not had a charter to Cozumel for several years he estimated going all the way to there would be another 375 miles or more. That seemed excessive and would require refueling which would increase both the running time and the risk of being intercepted. Charters from Jamaica to Grand Cayman were not uncommon and would arouse little if any suspicion from local patrols.
“Where are we going? Can you tell me that?”
“Just keep it on that heading. You’ll know when we get there. It won’t take very long.”
That told Roje it was either Cayman or a rendezvous with another vessel. He hoped it was Cayman. The prospect of possibly being personally eliminated and the Nymph sunk in the open sea was not appealing. One-on-one he could handle Gillian. Outnumbered was another story.
So he sat back in the captain’s chair on the bridge and kept a straight course per the GPS. Gillian was standing behind him still holding his gun. After only five minutes he called to Roje, “Slow down to an idle.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it.”
When the boat was idling in the water Gillian took out his phone and made a call. Roje understood. He probably was checking in with his brother before they were out of cell range.
“If you’re calling your brother, I need to know that my sister is okay and I don’t mean just his word. I want to talk to her. Either I speak directly with her or we sit here in the ocean and go nowhere. Don’t even think of disabling me and taking over my boat. You could never navigate properly and would get lost out here. And … you’d have to shoot me.”
Gillian knew Roje was right on both counts. He needed him to operate the boat to and from Gun Bay Beach on Grand Cayman. The Boston Whaler was no Sea Nymph. He also knew Roje Deveaux was no man to be taken lightly. He figured it would be best to assure him that his sister was well. He stepped to the stern with his phone. As he did Roje shut down the engine. The Sea Nymph was adrift, rolling over the ocean swells.
“What are you doing? Why did you turn off the engine?”
“Conserve fuel. Now make your call and let me talk to Ronika.”
Chapter 24: The Banana Boat Song
Vernon laughed. “Seriously? Bammy and jerk chicken? I have a few sandwiches and water. That’ll have to do.”
Ronnie did accept a sandwich and a bottle of water. She opened the sandwich and saw it was peanut butter and jelly. “PB and J? Seriously? It better be JIF!”
Vernon looked at her blankly and took a sandwich for himself. “Look, Ronika, I’ve always liked you. You have been one of my favorite customers and you’ve been nice to me. Please don’t think any of this is personal.”
Ronnie sensed some vulnerability. “I like you too Malc… I mean Vernon.” She took a bite and made a face. “This most definitely is not JIF. So, tell me one thing. Why did you take the name Malcolm to work here?”
Vernon smiled. “Two reasons. First, they would never have hired Vernon Whyte. Gillian and I aren’t exactly saints and if anyone, especially a potential employer, should dig below the surface, well, you know. Fortunately the owners here don’t bother checking. Second, I named myself after Malcolm Marshall, one of the greatest West Indian cricket players of all time. I actually met him once and he was very nice to me.”
“I see. But I really can’t help but think that this actually is personal. I mean, look at us. I’m your captive.” She decided not to add and you’re your brother’s captive. Instead she asked, “Can we maybe go sit outside? It really kinda stinks in here. I promise I won’t run.”
“Yes, it’s a bit stuffy in here. I’m sorry but I can’t trust you to stay put just because you promise to. If you want to go sit outside, I’ll have to cuff you to a table. If I lose you, Gillian will kill me.”
Ronnie felt he may have been only half kidding with that last comment. “It’s a deal, but please, not too tight, okay?” She believed Vernon was going to be getting a phone call soon from his brother and she would insist on speaking directly to Roje. “I would like to speak to Roje, let him know I’m okay. Is that possible?”
Before he could respond, Vernon’s cell buzzed. He looked at the caller ID
, which flashed GILLIAN, then back at Ronnie with a How’d you do that, you witch? expression. He stood, took the call, and stepped away from the table. Ronnie could only hear Vernon’s side of the conversation. “Gillian. How’s it going? Are you on your way? … That’s good. … Yes, we’re here, no problems. She’s fine. … Okay, I think that’s a good idea. She’s right here. I’ll put my phone on speaker.” He put the phone down on the table between them. Before he put it on speaker he said so only she could hear, “Do not mention you know where you are. If you do I’ll have to hurt you and find another place and it won’t be very nice. Got it?” Ronnie nodded and bent toward the phone.
“Roje? Are you there?”
Gillian’s voice came on. “Yes, he’s here and you can speak with him but let me warn you, keep it short and sweet.”
After a moment, Roje’s voice was heard. “Yes, Ronika. Are you okay? Has he hurt you?”
“I am okay and no, Vernon has not hurt me. He is treating me well.” She paused a couple of seconds. “But I sure could use a drink of rum along with some bammy, jerk chicken, and a ripe banana. You know how my potassium level has to be kept up or I start feeling faint.”
Roje waited a few seconds then replied, “Yes, some rum. And your potassium. You don’t have your pills? Bananas do contain potassium.”
“No I didn’t have a chance to get my pills. You know how my low potassium makes me pee a lot? Well, the facilities here are, shall we say, primitive. I even saw a black tarantula while in there. Can they be deadly?”
This time Roje replied promptly. “Yes, they can be deadly but when daylight comes they usually hunker down and hide so don’t worry. I love you. Stay brave and this will all be over soon. I promise you we will be together again. Stay strong.”
“I will. I love you too.”
Before she could say any more Gillian’s voice came back on. “Very touching. So now you both know that you’re both okay and that you love each other. If you want to stay okay, you’d better just keep on cooperating. Vernon, don’t let her talk you into going back for her pills. She can just keep peeing. Maybe you can find her a few bananas.”
“Okay, Gillian. Let’s keep in touch per our schedule.”
Vernon ended the call. “Look, I’m sorry about the pills. I can bring you some bananas. Will that be okay? And some rum. Perhaps I’ll join you.”
“Sure, Vernon, that would be nice. Thanks. Now I have to go pee again. And this time, can you find me some toilet paper or maybe some paper towels?”
Hovering over the toilet again, Ronnie let go a good stream. She really did have to go. She was ecstatic. She was certain Roje had understood her coded message. His responses convinced her that he knew she was being held at the Day-O. As she flushed with her foot she said aloud, “You’re brilliant!” Shit, she hoped she hadn’t said that too loud. Might scare the tarantula. She pulled up her jeans and left the stinking little closet-toilet.
~~~
Every good Jamaican (the “good” part excluded the Whyte brothers, of course) was familiar with the classic Harry Belafonte song from the mid-fifties, Day-O or The Banana Boat Song. Roje Deveaux was no exception.
It included the lyrics:
Work all night on a drink of rum
Daylight come and me wanna go home
Stack banana ‘til de mornin’ come
Daylight come and me wanna go home
Day, me say Day me say Day me say Daaay-O
A beautiful bunch o’ ripe banana
Daylight come and me wanna go home
Hide the deadly black tarantula
Daylight come and me wanna go home
The first clue to Roje was when his sister said that she “sure could use a drink of rum.” Ronnie hated rum. That was followed by her alluding to a non-existent potassium problem and that a ripe banana would help alleviate it. Roje knew his sister hated the taste of rum and that she did not have any potassium issues. He hoped his slight hesitation to reply and then repeating, “Yes, some rum” would convey to her that he understood what she was trying to say. Then his reference to non-existing potassium pills was also meant to indicate to her they were on the same page.
The clincher was her saying she had seen a black tarantula and asking if it could be deadly. His quick reply affirmed that they indeed could be deadly and that they hunker down when the daylight comes. That should have convinced her that he had picked up on the subliminal message that she was being held at the Day-O Roadside Stop.
She knew Roje would remember the place from a recent double-date when she and Ife had stopped there with him and Gabi for a late lunch.
~~~
On the Sea Nymph after the call Roje pushed the throttles forward full on the heading Gillian had given him. As he did he thought, my sister is brilliant! At first he was confused when she mentioned rum. Ronika had hated rum since the night she drank too much and was sick from it. When they were kids they snuck a bottle of their father’s rum out to the beach and drank some. Ronnie became ill almost immediately while Roje made fun of her but he soon followed suit. For her to say that she would like some rum was some kind of signal.
Then she mentioned a ripe banana which had to be another signal. Bananas was another thing she preferred to stay away from. “They’re too mushy and smell funny.” And the potassium thing? What? Thinking quickly he had to believe it was to cover the banana comment. So he played along and asked her if she “had her pills.” He didn’t even know if there were potassium pills but assumed there had to be since there seemed to be a pill for everything.
The clincher was her fear from seeing the black tarantula and asking if they were deadly. Ding, ding, ding!
A beautiful bunch o’ ripe banana
Hide the deadly black tarantula
There was no question. Ronika was telling him she was being kept at the Day-O Roadside Stop. So he mentioned that when “ … the daylight comes they usually hunker down and hide so don’t worry.” That was his signal to her that her message was received loud and clear. Now Roje’s dilemma was what to do with the information. Somehow he had to let Gabi or, better yet Dan, know what he had found out so they could develop a plan to rescue her.
As the Nymph glided over the relatively calm Caribbean Sea toward the Cayman Islands, his opportunity manifested itself in the form of Gillian Whyte’s basic stupidity. He had climbed up the flying bridge to join Roje. Gillian found it invigorating to be racing along, no land in sight, the wind, waves, and the powerful diesel engine causing him to have to yell close to Roje’s ear. “Where’s the bathroom on this boat?”
Roje made a face like he was smelling something foul. “It’s called the head and it’s below forward in the cabin. That’s the front.”
Gillian looked at him with contempt then went down the steps calling back over his shoulder, “Just keep it on course and full speed.” He disappeared into the cabin.
Roje couldn’t believe that Gillian was so dumb as to leave him alone without taking his phone. He wasn’t worried that he may not have cell service. When he was on the Nymph he used a satellite phone, or sat phone, which he kept on board. It had the same number as his regular smart phone. The only limitation was that he could only have one of the phones turned on at the same time. Rather than accessing cell towers with limited range, Roje’s phone made and received calls via a satellite and thus was essentially limitless in range. He had decided it was worth the expense since he was frequently at sea out of cell range. If he or his clients needed to communicate in or out, or if there was an emergency, he would have full access.
He kept the phone on a wall mount behind a fire extinguisher on the bridge. The fire extinguisher was several times the size of the phone thus the phone was virtually out of sight. No one would know it was there unless they were specifically looking for it. Roje preferred it that way so that curious clients wouldn’t want to play with it. While it was attached to the mount it would recharge as long as the boat’s engine was running.
He did a qu
ick check to make sure Gillian was still below and grabbed the phone. He made sure it was on full mute and that location sharing with his mother’s phone was activated so that she could track his location. He found his mother’s text contact and tapped out:
RIKA AT DAYO. LOCATION SHARING ON. TOWARD GCI. DO NOT REPLY
He hit SEND, and immediately deleted the message. She would know what to do with the information. “Rika” was his mother’s pet name for his sister and his use of it would assure her the message was authentic and indeed from him. Roje quickly put the phone back on its mount behind the extinguisher. Before doing so he double-checked to make sure the location sharing was still activated. Two minutes later Gillian was back on the flying bridge with two beers. He held out one to Roje. “Here, to celebrate the start of a successful operation.”
Roje couldn’t believe the man’s continuing stupidity. Now this idiot thinks I’m his friend and we can celebrate? “No thanks. I’m driving.”
“Suit yourself.” Gillian went down the steps and settled into the fighting chair with his beers.
Roje shook his head in wonderment. If brains were dynamite this man couldn’t blow himself up. Then he started humming the Harry Belafonte song Day-O and grinned.
Daylight come and me wanna go home.
Chapter 25: “… you wanted some detective training?”
Delyse looked down at her phone as her incoming text tone beeped and her eyes went wide open. “Dan, it’s from Roje! He knows where Ronika is!” She showed me her phone. The text read:
RIKA AT DAYO. LOCATION SHARING ON. TOWARD GCI. DO NOT REPLY
Recognition in my voice, “The Day-O? The roadside place? I know it! Ronnie took me there for lunch the day I arrived. She introduced me to her friend who works there, Malcolm, I believe. Are you positive the message is authentic and from Roje?”