“Yep. Full house,” he said, before returning the weapon to its holster. Taking a quick glance at himself in the mirror, he patted his hair, then headed out.
As he proceeded to the elevator, he noticed a few men walking in his direction. The one in front was smartly dressed in a blue coat suit and matching hat, with a short colorful feather attached to the top of it. The men on both sides of him, and the other guy at the back, were not outfitted as sharply, but obviously lacked no fashion sense. Nick had seen their type too many times during his years as a detective and was sure they were not the upstanding citizens they probably portrayed themselves to be. Shalo gave him a slight nod, which by courtesy he returned as they passed each other, and Carlos Frank stared at him as if he had a bone to pick.
After stepping inside the elevator, Nick watched them stop at a room several doors down on the opposite side of his suite. Someone soon opened the door and they all went inside. Carlos turned and looked at Nick one last time before joining the others. And moments later, the elevator doors closed.
Steve was standing near the exit when Nick arrived downstairs.
“I told you, you could’ve come up,” Nick said as they headed out to the SUV.
“No need. Just wanted to make sure you were all right up there.”
“Should I have been concerned about something?”
“Nah. I guess being in law enforcement I can get kind of paranoid about stuff, you know? New top detective in town that I’m practically responsible for; excuse me if I get a bit overly protective.”
Nick laughed. “Seriously?”
“Yeah… seriously.” Steve hopped into the vehicle.
SIX
The men arrived at Headquarters at a quarter of one and Steve led the way to the conference room. There, they met a group of thirteen men and one woman sitting around a long, oval table. As Nick walked in, they all stood up. Commissioner Keith Fox was among them and directly to his right were two other men, whom Nick recognized. The three left their seats and approached him.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Detective Myers.” Jackson Cunningham smiled as he extended his hand.
“Thank you, Mister Prime Minister,” Nick replied.
“I believe you remember, Halbert Flinch, our Minister of National Security…”
“Indeed I do. It was an honor meeting you both at the FBI Headquarters a few months ago.”
Jackson grinned. “When they introduced me to you, I could’ve sworn you were a federal agent. Your credentials are outstanding and you looked just as dapper as all the rest of them. I really don’t understand why you didn’t take the job, but it certainly speaks volumes that they still thought enough of you to send you here.”
“Thank you, sir.” Nick smiled.
“I especially enjoyed the brunch we had back there at Radcliff. The food was amazing.”
“Yes, it was.” Halbert concurred.
“It’s a good thing the Bureau took care of the tab,” Nick said. “I don’t know about anyone else, but if I had to pay, I would’ve had to volunteer to be dish washer, at least for a week.”
The room erupted in slightly dignified laughter.
The only woman present came forward at the request of the Prime Minister. “Please allow me to introduce to you our first female Deputy Commissioner, Miss Lora Adams,” Jackson said.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Detective.” She shook his hand just as firmly as any man could. Despite her good looks, Lora had made her mark in Law Enforcement, and against much resistance, had demanded the respect of her colleagues.
“The pleasure’s all mine.” Nick wanted to kiss her hand instead of shaking it. He figured there was a soft side to her in there somewhere.
Jackson soon stepped back. “The floor is yours, Detective.”
Nick rested his briefcase on the desk and retrieved a manila folder out of it. At the end of the desk was a slide projector with a screen behind it and a whiteboard stood nearby. Nick started off by using various slides to explain his basic crime-solving strategy, then provided consistent layers of in-depth knowledge he’d come to share. Steve was sitting at the table next to Lora, observing with interest as they all were at the oval table. Brought in to conduct a series of discussions, Nick found himself right at home speaking about the intricacies of investigative techniques and what his plans were to enlighten detectives in the country about those particular skills in upcoming in-house seminars.
At the end of the forty-five minute introductory meeting, the Prime Minister, the Minister of National Security and Commissioner remained behind after the others had left. Steve stood near the doorway as Nick and the men spoke.
“I’d like to invite you to dinner tonight at Haston House,” Jackson said.
Nick was clearly confused by the name.
“Haston House is where I reside. It’s the official residence of the Prime Minister — similar to The White House, but not nearly as fancy.” He grinned.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve known that’s where you meant. Please don’t tell my boss I didn’t do my homework before coming here.” He whispered.
They all chuckled.
“You’re one funny guy.” Jackson patted Nick’s shoulder. “And I’m really glad you’re here to help us turn this beloved country of ours around. The mini lecture you gave today was remarkable, to say the least. I can tell that our officers are going to learn a great deal and that their application of that insight will make a huge difference for us here in Haston.”
“Once the knowledge has been imparted, application definitely is key,” Nick said.
“We won’t have it any other way.” Jackson’s eyes met Steve’s near the doorway. “Steve, come over here!”
Cringing inwardly at the very thought of being within a foot of that man, Steve headed over.
Jackson got a sense from a while back that he wasn’t one of Steve’s favorite people, but he managed to brush it off and remain cordial. “You’ll be accompanying Detective Myers to dinner tonight, okay?” he said to him. “Just wanted you to know you’re not just the driver, but the invitation is extended to you as well.”
Steve was surprised, but not impressed. “Yes, sir,” he replied, unenthusiastically.
Nick was free for the remainder of the day until his 7:00 p.m. dinner appointment with the Prime Minister. He and Steve left for a little tour of the capital city, then had a late lunch together at The Outdoor Grille before he returned to the hotel.
SEVEN
“He can’t breathe! He can’t breathe!” Kevin exclaimed to a nurse, as he held his wheezing son in his arms.
“Please help him!” Sheri pleaded, wearing nothing more than an old house dress, a brown headcloth and Flip-flops.
Mark’s sudden asthma attack happened the moment Kevin had walked in from the store that night. Sheri was already in their son’s room trying to help him when Kevin, hearing the commotion, rushed in. Dropping the grocery bags, he hurried over to Mark’s side. He found the boy visibly struggling for air and the look on Sheri’s face a mixture of helplessness, terror and heartbreak. The inhaler she’d been spraying appeared utterly useless and their only option was for his father to scoop him up and dash him to the Emergency Room.
The scene in the ER was chaotic. The sound of ambulances pulling up outside with other patients paled in comparison to the groaning, hollering and moaning inside the huge space where more than a hundred patients and family members sat or stood waiting for assistance. Some beds lined the hallway with people who’d been treated or were in the process of being tended to. Kevin and Sheri knew the situation they faced all too well. They also knew doctors and nurses were mandated to treat children and adults who couldn’t breathe as priority, regardless of how many others were waiting for service or how long they’d been waiting. Mark needed help right then and there, and that was their only concern.
An orderly was called and the boy quickly placed in a wheelchair and transported to The Pediatric Emergency Unit at the back.
Kevin and Sheri remained close by, watching as the nurse assessed the child’s condition. Other children were in the room, some younger than Mark and a few older. Several of them were already being treated and two, in particular were sitting in wheelchairs awaiting treatment, as their parent or guardian sat nearby. The children appeared to be in some distress, but there were only enough chairs and equipment for those who were already being tended to. Kevin and Sheri were horrified when the nurse wheeled little Mark into a corner to join the others who were waiting and Sheri promptly went to be with her son.
“What’re you doing?” Kevin asked the nurse.
“I’m sorry, sir, but he has to wait. We can only attend to so many patients at one time,” she replied. “Besides, his condition is not that severe which would warrant immediate care.”
“What the hell did you say?” Kevin glared. “Our son is over there struggling to breathe and you’re saying his condition is not severe? Are you crazy?”
Sheri quickly called Kevin over. Knowing how he felt about his son, she was certain the matter would escalate.
“I demand for my son to be served right this minute!” Kevin blurted to the nurse, ignoring his wife.
The nurse cut her eye and picked up a small microphone on the wall. “Security needed in PEU!” She said, without looking Kevin’s way.
“Kevin!” Sheri called again, wanting to get up and drag him over, but refusing to leave her son. “You’re going to get us kicked out of here!”
“Doesn’t anything this nurse said bother you?” He asked, bewildered.
“Of course it does, but you know how they are around here. If you cause any trouble, not only would we have to leave, but they’d leave our son languishing in this chair. Is that what you want, Kevin?”
He sighed deeply. He knew she was right. He also felt like a massive failure as a father, not being able to provide better healthcare for his son. He looked at the nurse, who had gone on to tend to another child.
“Okay, I’m cool, but if our son…”
“Don’t!” Sheri exclaimed. “She couldn’t bear the thought of what he was about to utter and only hoped that somehow the nurse was right about the severity of their son’s condition, although from the way he was wheezing, she couldn’t tell if she was, in fact, correct.
A security officer appeared moments later and the nurse directed him to the problem.
“It’s under control now,” she said, then she looked at Kevin. “Sir, I’m gonna need you to wait outside the door because there’s limited space in here. Your wife can stay with your son.”
The security officer approached Kevin and accompanied him to the waiting area outside of the Unit.
Annoyed and agitated, Kevin slumped into a chair and shaking his head, everything that was wrong with his life came flashing into his mind. He knew the nurse made the call to get rid of him not because of the reason she’d stated, but simply to exert her authority over him.
Three hours later, with prescription medication in hand, Kevin left the hospital with his family. Mark was safe.
EIGHT
Across town…
Attendance at the rally was astonishingly massive, compared to the pre-election rallies held by the NDP. Shalo and his men were in attendance that night, though Shalo often remained behind the scenes, suggesting political strategies and donating huge amounts of cash to his party’s campaigns. Choosing not to be a stalwart counselor, he held more rank than almost any other member of the party, besides their middle-aged leader — Trafton Sinclair and his younger deputy, Oliver Wright.
On the podium, Trafton mercilessly listed all the false promises made by the CPP in the run up to the most recent general election. He also noted how the promise to take the burden off the backs of the poor and middle class was nothing more than a spit in the face of residents – as they increased current taxes and implemented new ones citing there was no other way the nation could survive under its current state of financial debt. The entire topic of taxes seemed to enrage the crowd, many of whom had expressed their disappointment and disgust over social media and on radio talk shows. Looking out at the people, Trafton had a good feeling in his bones. He knew from a recent survey, that many of the CPPs former election supporters had switched over in support of the NDP. Prime Minister Cunningham and crew had pretty much committed political suicide and then buried themselves under the lies and false promises they’d made to the people.
“The economic condition of Haston was ‘healthy’ compared to many other Caribbean nations. Yet within the past three years, more people are now unemployed and suffering great financial hardships more than at any other period in modern times,” Trafton said.
Men, women and children stood in the large, open field, listening to whom they hoped would become their country’s leader within the next two years.
“That son of a bitch Cunningham should be hanged by the balls!” One guy who seemed to have had a bit too much to drink, hollered. He stood at the front, only a few feet away from where Shalo and his men were standing.
Carlos Frank and Max Payne laughed heartily at the exclamation and the crowd nearby quickly supported the man’s assertion.
“I second that!” Carlos shouted.
Shalo was standing quietly with his hands crossed in front of him. He was still seething over the fact that the current government denied him a license to open a local commercial bank. Though he considered they might have suspicions that he was connected to the Mafia, he was convinced more so that their denial of his license had everything to do with his ties to the NDP.
“You all right, boss?” Carlos asked him.
“I’ll be all right when those nincompoops are history!” he replied.
“Well, from the looks of this crowd, seems like your wish is gonna come true next election,” Max chimed in.
“Your wish?” Shalo’s gaze was intense.
“Our wish, sir,” Max quickly clarified.
No member of his entourage dared to go against Shalo’s wishes – even those that had to do with politics and the natural right for each individual to vote as he pleases. If anyone was courageous enough to vote for the governing party, they never breathed a word of it to anyone. Shalo commanded complete loyalty in every sense of the word and those that didn’t fully understand that suffered a grisly fate.
There was an eruption of cheer from the crowd when Trafton’s speech had ended on a strong and thought-provoking note. Shalo and his men were no exception. Trafton promised to undo the damage that had been done by the governing CPP and to create more jobs, provide government assistance and even loans for persons seeking to start their own businesses. He promised to implement a “Government Collateral Program” where young aspiring entrepreneurs could see their dreams become reality – those persons, in particular, who would not otherwise qualify for a business loan from any of the local commercial banks. Trafton emphasized that he and his hardworking team had big plans to turn the nation around and to create opportunities his people never had before. Nothing sounded better to those in attendance and to the thousands watching live via television. Shalo smiled as he considered that Max might be right. It seemed highly possible that within twenty-four months, the NDP would be the government and shortly thereafter, his bank license would be approved. He intended to do whatever was necessary to ensure that happened — come hell or high water.
NINE
Kevin was in Thaddeus Sherman’s office bright and early that Wednesday morning. He’d arrived at least forty-five minutes earlier than his scheduled appointment, partly because he’d barely slept the night before. The scene from the hospital and the way he perceived his son had been pushed aside still upset him. Sheri had gotten over it and was simply grateful that Mark had survived the attack. She knew that many other people out there were not so fortunate when it came to surviving their asthmatic attacks. But Kevin couldn’t get the thought out of his mind — the thought that one of these days, one of those trips to the Emergency Room would end in t
ragedy: That his son might not be made a priority, yet again, and might not survive the attack. The very possibility of it was emotionally debilitating to the father of one who loved his son far beyond himself. And how would Sheri cope? Mark was everything to her. He sometimes thought the boy was the glue that was keeping them together as husband and wife, especially since she was beautiful enough to be wanted by any other man, particularly one who could take care of her financially and she could run off with in a heartbeat. He was sure if things didn’t change, that one day, she was bound to get fed up enough to walk out with his son – never to return.
The time was 8:54 a.m. Thaddeus had not arrived yet at the office, but his secretary Fredericka, had offered Kevin a cup of coffee, which he graciously accepted. He’d wait all day for The Deputy Prime Minister if he had to. Something had to make or break for him that very day or he was sure he was going to lose it.
“Kevin…”
Someone’s voice trailed into his consciousness as he’d been deep in thought.
Thaddeus had just walked in and stopped to hail him.
Kevin quickly stood, His empty coffee cup sat on the small, elegant glass table next to his chair.
“Good morning, sir.” Kevin shook his hand.
“Are you all right?” Thaddeus noticed the stressed look on his face.
Kevin nodded, unconvincingly. “Yes. Yes, I’m all right.”
“Okay, well, just give me a few minutes and Fredericka will show you in, okay?”
“Okay, thanks.”
Tight police security was all around the Deputy Prime Minister’s office, which was situated in a beautifully landscaped complex on the eastern side of the city. Kevin remembered the Prime Minister’s office being even nicer, and in a larger complex not far from there. He also remembered thinking that politicians seemed to have the best of everything, especially when they were lucky enough to win the government. All expenses are pretty much paid: the kids’ tuition covered by the public treasury; vehicles they drive in serviced by tax dollars, and trips they regularly go on furnished by the rich and poor man’s pocket alike. He imagined it a dream come true for many of those politicians, but for some, the extravagant lifestyle isn’t a far cry from the way they lived before they entered the political arena, since they were already successful business owners. However, the power and prestige for many, if not for all of them, must be intoxicating. It’s all about the power, Kevin figured. Once they had it, they forgot about the “common man” — the people out there who voted for them because they desperately desired change. The power became their god and the people’s concerns were no longer a priority. He was disheartened to think that this was the way he felt about his own party, but he could not deny in his heart what glared boldly before him. Yet, his pride and complete embarrassment are what prevented him from admitting the same to Sheri, especially after he’d ignored her warnings not to get so deeply involved in the last general election campaign.
Dangerous & Deadly- The Nick Myers Series Page 20