“Not surprising.” Steve glanced at his wristwatch. “Ten to ten. Better get you to that conference! Let’s go!”
They hurried back to the SUV.
“I’m telling you, if this intensity continues to rise in this country the way it’s been for the past few months, something’s gonna happen. I can feel it,” Steve said, putting the gear in drive.
Nick was unsure of what to say. Before arriving in Haston, he was aware that elections were two years away and a lot of citizens were fired up about it, but he couldn’t have imagined how fired up they really were if he didn’t find himself in the midst of it.
“I surely hope you’re wrong,” he finally said. “People have got to understand that politics is a dirty game. Those wannabe politicians or government officials showing up at their door before elections usually have one thing on their minds: perks and power. It’s not about what they can do for you; it’s strictly about what you can do for them. Once you realize that, you won’t believe a single word that comes out of their mouths. That way, when they get in and don’t keep their laundry list of promises, you won’t be let down too much because you didn’t expect much. That’s how I approach the whole issue every single time when it’s an election year and everybody and their momma you haven’t seen in three years wanna show up at your doorstep begging for votes. It’s a dirty game, Detective. A dirty game.”
“I couldn’t have said it better. That’s the long and short of it, for sure.”
Nick and Steve arrived at the venue a few minutes ahead of time. Nick was able to quickly set up the equipment previously brought in by a crew of assistants assigned to him for the meetings. Looking out at the crowd assembled in the large conference center, it seemed almost surreal to him that he was even there. Again, he was sure that the FBI, via the Department of State had made a dreadful error sending him there, since academically, he must have been the least qualified person they could find. Nevertheless, he knew his capabilities and he knew they knew them. His negative self-talk was soon drowned out by the well-known fact that the FBI only sent the best and only recruited the best for themselves. If they tried to recruit him – and more than once, that alone spoke volumes.
The conference was now underway and he was introduced to the hundreds of smartly-dressed officers in what he thought was a most impressive manner. Every single credential was called and to his ears, it seemed like the moderator was speaking of someone else. When it was his turn to stand and take the floor, the feeling was thrilling as those in attendance clapped. He couldn’t help thinking, if only his mother was alive to see him now. She would be extremely proud.
TWELVE
Two weeks into his new job, Kevin was already accompanying the Deputy Prime Minister to many functions, aside from doing the office work he’d been assigned to. He even sat in the House of Assembly each time it was in session, watching as Thaddeus and the other Parliamentarians debated the country’s growing issues. Learning a lot more than he’d known before about the inner workings of politics, Kevin had the crazy idea that perhaps it was a field he could enter into sometime in the future: that maybe one day he could become a senator, if not a Member of Parliament. Working so closely with Thaddeus made him feel like he, too, was capable of serving his country in that manner. He had a feeling it might be his destiny. Yet, he was adamant that he would never enter the political arena for selfish reasons. In his mind, it had to be about the people — their best interests, or he would never do it. Having been down in the dumps only a few weeks earlier was enough to convince him that taking political office must be for the good of the country and the country is, in fact, the people.
He’d managed to see Jackson Cunningham quite regularly since Thaddeus had taken him on. Jackson did congratulate Kevin on the new job and they exchanged pleasantries whenever they saw each other, but that was about it as far as communication went. Jackson didn’t seem bothered one way or the other, knowing he’d failed to live up to any of his promises to Kevin. And even in light of that, Kevin had managed to let the resentment he’d felt toward him go. All was forgiven now because he was in a better position and his family was well taken care of.
As discussed, Sheri had quit her job at the hotel the day Kevin started working with Thaddeus and she loved being able to be home with Mark all the time. When Kevin got his first paycheck, the first thing the couple did was secure a good medical insurance for Mark. At first, it was a challenge to find a willing insurer, but it worked out a few days later as a result of a recommendation by a friend. Sheri took it upon herself to also purchase some inexpensive items to help beautify the home and give it that lovely feel she always wished it had. Life could not be better for them. They were truly happy for the first time in a long time.
* * * *
Nick and Steve sat in their swim trunks on the white, sandy beach that cool Thursday morning after getting an early dip in the sea. It was Steve’s day off and since it was Nick’s last day in Haston after having conducted a series of meetings and conferences in the past two weeks, he thought it was a good way for them to shoot the breeze a bit before his departure scheduled for later that afternoon. Steve had brought along a small cooler stacked with beers for the occasion.
Nick looked out at the water. “You guys have such a beautiful country, you know? Not every part of the world can boast of that. Look out at that clear, blue sea.”
“Yeah, we do,” Steve agreed, “but the country’s being polluted every day at the hands of dirty politicians. You won’t believe how many scandals surfaced in the past few years about MPs getting kickbacks from government contracts they gave out — a couple involving Cunningham himself. And the sad part is... even though documented evidence came to light and practically everyone knows about it, nothing came out of it. The only thing people did was openly complain, but no charges were brought against any of the MPs and they’ve gone on to continue doing what they’ve always done. There are no consequences for them to face because the people are just so damn passive. That’s our nature, you know. We’re not like y’all in the States who demand change and that your politicians be held accountable for their actions. The police aren’t going to arrest the Prime Minister, but before that can even be possible, the attorney-general is not going to bring charges against him or anyone in the CPP because he’s a member of that very party. Man, the government here gets away with everything. The whole system is jacked up!”
Again, Nick saw the disgust on Steve’s face and he felt sorry for him, especially since it appeared that regardless of the complaints, there was nothing anyone could or would do about them. He couldn’t imagine living in a society like that, where the people seemed to have no voice and the politicians apparently forgot that they’re employed by the people.
“I’m really sorry, man,” Nick said, after taking a sip of his beer. “There must be something you could do though. Maybe get Britain or the UN involved somehow?”
“I don’t know,” Steve shook his head.
“I know your country is on the verge of independence from Britain, but independent or not, Haston is part of a global community where laws that have to do with the rights of citizens in each country must be enforced. I think getting someone from abroad to look at what’s happening here would be a good start. I can always find out for you what might be your best route when I get back and let you know.”
Steve was nodding. “Sounds like a good idea. I’d appreciate it.”
They sat and talked for another hour before packing up to leave. Steve would be taking him to the airport that afternoon and seeing him off.
Having developed a good rapport over the past couple of weeks, Steve was actually glad he’d met Nick Myers, although at first when he was told he’d have to transport him everywhere he needed to go every day for weeks, like he was a chauffeur or something, he wasn’t the least bit thrilled. He felt a hard-bodied, respectable detective such as himself deserved to be on crime scenes, not wiping the behind of a top American detective who had to s
hare his expertise with the not-so-bright members of the Royal Haston Police Force. But his views had quickly changed after meeting the guy. Nick was nothing like he expected him to be. He was down-to-earth and a pretty cool guy and that was refreshing to see.
Steve dropped Nick off at the hotel to rest for a few hours before it was time for him to leave for the airport.
THIRTEEN
On that sunny afternoon of August 3rd, 2010 at 12:31 p.m., gunfire rang out on Parliament Grounds as Jackson Cunningham and his bodyguards, as well as other Ministers left the morning session of the House.
No one knew where the shots were coming from, but the next thing they saw was Jackson falling to the ground and blood was everywhere. His bodyguards and other police officers closely surrounded him and one guy fell on top of him to shield him from further gunfire. For passersby on the sidewalk who were taking cover to protect their own lives, the scene looked like something out of an action movie, except they knew it was real.
Policemen rushed into action and soon the gunfire that had broken the serenity of that day abruptly ended. Officers scattered in every direction in search of the brazen perpetrator while others tried to revive the Prime Minister who had stopped twitching. A doctor rushed over to assist as Jackson lay there on the ground in a pool of his own blood and with a large, gaping hole in his chest.
* * * *
There was a loud rattle on Nick’s room door at 1:45 p.m. He’d been sleeping from the minute he’d been dropped off from the beach. Rubbing his eyes, he wondered if he’d really heard knocking or if he’d been dreaming... then he heard the rattle again.
Wearing only a pair of white boxer shorts, he got up and cracked open the door, peeped through, then opened it wider. Steve was standing on the other side.
“Is it time to go already?” Nick asked, tiredly.
“May I come in?” Steve had an unreadable expression on his face.
“Sure, come on in.” Nick stepped aside.
“I didn’t come to take you to the airport,” Steve said. “I think there’s something you should know in person, if you haven’t heard already.” Not seeking permission, he sat at the end of the bed.
“I’ve been sleeping all afternoon. What is it?”
“Jackson Cunningham’s dead.”
Nick’s eyes widened with shock. “What?”
“Someone shot him as he was leaving Parliament today.”
“My God!” Nick sat down next to him, in disbelief. “Who did it?”
“We don’t know. The guy apparently did a sniper move or something. Talk is, it was difficult to tell which direction the shots were coming from.”
Nick hung his head back a moment; it suddenly felt heavier than usual for him. “What’s the plan of action?”
“The Police Department and Marines have swung into full force and are teaming up on this. We’ve never had anything like this happen, so it’s a shock to all of us.”
Just then, Nick’s cell phone rang and he snatched it from the bureau.
“Excuse me.” He got up and opened the sliding door, then went out onto the balcony to take the call. It was Morano Cleaver, Director of International Operations, FBI.
“Are you all right over there, Nick? We got word of the tragic news,” he said.
“Yes, I’m fine, sir. Just heard it myself. I’m still in shock.”
“I know you’re supposed to be flying back this afternoon, but we’ve canceled your reservation.”
“You have?”
“Yep. You’re staying in Haston a while longer and lending your assistance to this investigation. I gave my word to the Commissioner and he’s grateful for whatever help we can give.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Do well. Will be in touch.” Cleaver ended the call.
Nick was massaging his temple when he returned inside.
“More bad news?” Steve asked.
“Not sure. I won’t be needing that ride to the airport anymore.”
“You’re staying?”
“Uh huh. Directives from the Chief. Let’s find the Prime Minister’s killer.”
He quickly got dressed and the men headed down to Parliament Grounds. A large portion of downtown was blocked off from public access. Barricades had been set up everywhere and all businesses within a few hundred feet of Parliament were on lock-down. No one was permitted to leave and no one, other than law enforcement allowed to enter, in order to interrogate those present. It was one of the strategies Nick had emphasized earlier and was satisfied to learn was in full effect that day, though he never imagined they’d be utilizing it so soon because their own leader had been murdered.
Steve was automatically back on official duty just like every other police officer was that day. He knew the Force was different from other jobs out there, in that during the case of a national emergency, they could not refuse to return to work if they were off-duty for whatever reason. He became aware of that early on during his training at the police college, after entering fresh out of high school.
The forensic crew was still working the scene for evidence when the detectives pulled up. Nick immediately stood and looked out at Parliament Grounds and the surrounding area. It was situated in the heart of downtown where tourists strolled and professionals walked to and fro conducting business. There was a thirty-foot road which separated the House of Assembly from the large office buildings, souvenir shops and boutiques.
Directly opposite Parliament and approximately seventy feet away from the road was a large white building which housed a bank and several accounting firms. Nick couldn’t help but think the balcony way at the top could’ve been a good place to get off a couple of shots at a target below.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Steve said. “And it seems like a sure possibility to me since no one knew which direction the shots were coming from.”
They headed over to the crime scene and Nick looked down at the spot where Cunningham fell. A few feet to their right was the front door of the House of Assembly.
“Was anyone else shot?” Nick asked Steve.
“Nope. The shooter had a straight aim for who we believe was his target.”
“It’s assumed Cunningham was the target, but suppose he wasn’t the intended victim?”
“That’s a possibility, although highly unlikely considering how people, in general, felt about him. But I know we can’t ignore other possibilities out there.”
“Detectives...” Commissioner Fox approached from behind.
“The news really came as a shock, sir,” Nick said to him. “Any suspects?”
“Just about half of Haston, I suppose,” Fox replied sadly. “I think we have our work in front of us. By the way, we appreciate you staying on with us for a little while longer… to help us with this most distressing case.”
“I’m willing to assist in any way possible, sir. I was wondering... have detectives been dispatched to all the surrounding businesses?”
“Every man we’ve got is out there conducting the interrogations.”
“How about that building across the street?” he pointed.
“Officers are there right now and I’ve been there myself,” Fox said. “Spoke with some of the bank employees. No one, so far, claims to know or have seen anything.”
“That balcony is the perfect spot, huh?” Nick remarked.
“There’s no way anyone would’ve been able to get to it,” Fox replied.
“No? Why not?”
“It’s completely inaccessible. A gate was built to block off access after two people, during a five-year-span, actually toppled over it onto the pavement. None of them survived.”
Nick was stunned. “Two people fell to their deaths?”
“Yep,” Steve chimed in. “I remember that.”
“Incredible.”
“So, the owner had a company come in and erect the gate. Furthermore, he’d been sued by the families of both victims,” Fox said.
“I’d like to see it if you don�
��t mind,” Nick said.
“Not at all. Let’s go.”
The men walked over to Chestnut Corporate Center. Inside the grand foyer was a semi-circular security booth parked in the center of it. White marble tiles covered the floor and directly behind the booth was the entrance to the bank, which took up most of the ground floor. On the left and right sides of the security booth were elevators. Fox bypassed the young security officer and led the detectives to the elevator on their right.
They took a ride up to the third floor. When the doors parted, a small mahogany-stained receptionist desk stood straight ahead, approximately fifteen feet away from the elevator. The lady sitting at the desk smiled as the men approached.
“How may I help you gentlemen?” she asked. She had not seen her twentieth birthday yet and the braces fitted on her teeth were of a pinkish-purplish decorative kind. She had auburn, curly hair which had been tightly pulled into a neat ponytail.
“If you’re here to question me about what I saw, I’ve already told detectives I know absolutely nothing,” she boldly said.
Nick stepped up to the desk. “How many offices are on this floor?”
“There are four offices on this floor. Two on each side of this desk.”
“Are you usually stationed here? I mean — for most of the day?” he asked.
“I’m here all day, every day other than on my lunch break, which is at one o’clock.”
“What kind of offices are up here?” He glanced around.
“They’re all accounting firms.”
Fox and Steve stood patiently as Nick gradually eased his way to his point.
“How many people would you say come up here on a daily basis — an approximation?”
“You mean on this floor?” she asked.
He nodded.
“I’d say — maybe twenty or thirty, other than staff. We don’t have a high volume of traffic here.”
Nick was silent for a few moments, then he leaned slightly on the desk, getting a good look at the name tag pinned to her blouse. “Anne, since you say there are about twenty or thirty people each day visiting this floor, for whatever reason, it would be sort of easy for you to recognize if any of them asked you a question that seemed odd or they just looked like they were out of place, am I correct?”
Dangerous & Deadly- The Nick Myers Series Page 22