Unofficial and Deniable

by John Gordon Davis

  The three lawyers hustled Josephine across the marbled foyers of the airport, chased by cameras and clamorous questions all the way. Outside a hired limousine was waiting. They scrambled in, and sped off towards the city. They were heading for the courthouse where Judge Ludman was waiting to hear evidence as to the identity of Josephine Valentine Harker before issuing a court order.

  The Governor of Florida State Prison could not release a condemned man on the strength of a telephone call from the Justice Department or the State Governor’s residence; he could not even let a condemned man out of the Maximum Security section until he had the official order in his hand. That document was being carried by helicopter from Miami up to Starke: and in that helicopter, courtesy of the governor, were Josephine Harker and old Charlie Benson.

  The roads approaching Florida State Prison and its two sister institutions were clogged with traffic when Josephine’s helicopter came whirring over the forests that surround the prisons’ pastures. A murmur went up from hundreds of throats, arms pointing. There were half a dozen helicopters parked in the fields, chartered by the media, a dozen police cars with lights flashing trying to control the congestion, on alert for any attempted jailbreaks during the excitement. Reporters and television crews from around the world were gathered there at three o’clock that afternoon of December 16th, 1996.

  As Josephine’s helicopter came clattering over the pastures beside the administration block, James A. Hunter, CNN anchorman, stood in front of his camera and said, ‘What can it feel like to wake up on Death Row this morning with the awful knowledge that you were convicted of murder and sentenced to death the day before yesterday – then learn that your loved one, whom you’ve been convicted of murdering, is alive and that you’ve been reprieved? It is hard to imagine the boundless joy, the … mind-blowing joy of knowing not only that you are to be spared death in that dreadful electric chair but that your darling wife, the woman you were accused of vilely murdering, was not dead after all but had drifted for days before being washed up on a deserted island on the edge of the Gulf Stream. But we’ll let her tell her extraordinary story when she emerges through these prison gates on the arm of the man she loves …’ Then the clatter of the landing helicopter drowned his voice, his hair flew in the rotor’s downblast. He shouted into his microphone, ‘And now here they are …’

  The mob of media people and spectators surged across the parking lot but the line of policemen and warders held them back. The helicopter touched down, then the passenger door opened and old Charlie clambered out. He was in his crumpled black suit, his halo of white hair resplendent, his enamel smile gleaming. He held out his hand gallantly; Josephine took it and climbed out, her hair and dress flying in the rotor’s turbulence. A car was approaching across the pasture; in it was the prison’s governor. It pulled up as the rotor’s blasts subsided, the governor stepped out, strode towards Josephine and clasped her hand. He shook Charlie’s hand, then hurried them back to the car. They all scrambled in. The car turned and, to the dismay of all the media people, sped off for a distant corner of the field. It turned and drove up to the back entrance of the prison where nobody was waiting. A gate in the high fence opened and the car disappeared from sight into the prison complex. A frustrated cry went up from the assembled media.

  But they did not have to wait long. Fifteen minutes later the big front doors of the main building opened, facing the administrators’ parking lot beyond the double security fences. Jack Harker stepped out, into the Florida sunshine. The crowd surged up against the outer fence, cameras rolling, all the television anchor people started talking to their cameras at once, all the reporters speaking into their radios and tape-recorders and scribbling notes.

  Josephine was beside Harker, holding his hand. Smiling broadly but tearfully. Old Charlie Benson was behind them, beaming all over his benevolent face. Beside him was the prison governor. They walked together down the paved path, and came to the first perimeter gate. Guards opened it and they passed through on to the wide path down to the gate in the outer fence. The eyes of the world were upon them, the cameras rolling and clicking.

  Three hundred yards away Ricardo sat behind the wheel of a Ford car with false numberplates; in the back seat sat two Cubans.

  ‘Impossible …’ Ricardo picked up his mobile telephone and dialled. In Fort Lauderdale Clements answered.

  ‘Impossible. Too many people; we come badly unstuck. And a dozen cop cars. We’d get caught, sure.’

  ‘Okay, don’t risk it,’ Clements said. ‘If they leave by car follow and report your situation. If they leave by helicopter get the hell back here.’

  The governor stopped a few paces from the main gates as the cameras zoomed in. He shook hands with Josephine, and with Charlie. Then he shook hands with Harker warmly, congratulated him again and wished him every happiness. Then Charlie turned to the mass of cameras and faces beyond the gate. He produced a sheet of paper from his pocket, put on his reading spectacles and smiled. He held up a hand for silence. It came instantly.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Charlie said. ‘Jack and Josephine Harker have prepared press releases, as neither of them feels up to saying much, and they certainly don’t want to answer questions after the ordeals they have been through. Now, these gates are going to be opened and we’ll pass through and I’ll read their statements. Please don’t interrupt and please give us breathing space.’

  The guards swung open the gates and the crowd fell back a little as they walked through. Guards closed the gates again and Charlie stopped. He smiled, raised his voice and read loudly:

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, Jack and Josephine Harker want to thank the media for their interest and sympathy. Josephine wants the public, and particularly the justice system, to know that the account that Jack gave concerning her disappearance is substantially correct. She fell overboard when she was alone on watch – Jack was asleep below at the time. She fell overboard as she was adjusting the aft mizzen sail. The vessel rolled suddenly, she was caught off balance, bumped into the handrail and toppled over. She was not wearing a safety harness – which she should have done – but fortunately she was wearing a life-jacket. In the water she helplessly watched the yacht motoring away from her into the night: she shouted and screamed but her cries went unheard against the boat’s engine and the whistling trade winds.’

  Charlie adjusted his spectacles, smiled widely at the crowd, then continued:

  ‘So the boat disappeared into the night, and Josephine floated. It was. some hours later when she saw the boat return on a reciprocal course. But it was going to pass hundreds of yards from where she was. She could see Jack on board, shining his light over the sea, searching for her. She waved and shouted but, alas, he did not hear her or see her, and he disappeared again. She never saw the yacht again but she did see its life-raft which Jack had thrown overboard. She managed to swim to it and clamber aboard. She was exhausted, of course, having been battling the water for about four hours at this stage. Mercifully the life-raft – like all such craft – had a container of water, some hard rations and fishing lines, and it is covered by a canopy. Josephine collapsed asleep as soon as she had eaten something and drunk some water. She slept for some ten hours.’

  Charlie looked up from his notes. ‘She was wearing a seaman’s waterproof wristwatch, which gave her the date as well as the time.’ He continued: ‘Josephine had no control over the life-raft’s direction, of course, it drifted northwards with the trade winds and the Gulf Stream current. She tried to keep a lookout for vessels to hail but the wind, sea and heat soon drove her back inside her canopy. She knows that she drifted for four days, before being shaken awake by her life-raft washing up on to a beach. She found she was on a flat island. She presumed she was on one of the hundreds of Bahamian islands. And she was right – it was the island of Leonard, which is unpopulated. It does, however, have a small fresh-water spring which mercifully she found.’

  Charlie looked up and smiled happily. Then he continued
: ‘And there Josephine stayed for the next several months. Like Robinson Crusoe, living off shellfish and fish which she caught with the equipment from her life-raft. There was a packet of matches amongst that equipment and she was able to keep a fire going. On several occasions she saw passing boats in the distance, and she tried to hail these by waving and shouting and by building up her fire, but nobody noticed her. Until the day before yesterday.

  ‘On December fifteenth a Bahamian fishing boat passed the island. Josephine’s frantic efforts succeeded in attracting the crew’s attention. They kindly agreed to take her to civilization, to the capital, Nassau, arriving there today. There she learned the fate of Jack. She hurried to the American consul’s office. Contact was made with the Miami court authorities and thus with me.’ Old Charlie looked up and gave his enamelled beam. ‘And here she is, overjoyed to be reunited with Jack, overjoyed that she has gotten him out of prison, off Death Row, overjoyed to be alive …’

  Charlie wiped his eye with his knuckle.

  ‘That concludes Josephine’s statement. I turn now to Jack’s.’ Charlie unfolded another sheet of paper. ‘All Jack wants to say is this: “I am overjoyed that Josephine is alive, overjoyed to be reunited with her, and, of course, to be vindicated, to have it proved that I was telling the court the truth. And overjoyed that the nightmare of living in the shadow of the electric chair is over.”’

  Charlie folded the paper and thrust it in his pocket. ‘That’s all, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you. Now, if you’ll be so kind as to let us get to our car …’

  Then the questions started. ‘Excuse us …’ Charlie cried, happily forcing his way through the jostling crowd to the prison’s car, Josephine and Harker following. ‘Excuse us …’ They clambered into the vehicle. A warder had the car moving before the door slammed against the reporters. He drove off, some of the media running alongside the car shouting questions. The driver forged through the crowd, hooting, through the parking lot, then into the field beyond where the helicopter stood. He drove up to it between the prison guards. The doors opened and Jack, Josephine and Charlie climbed out. They ran for the helicopter and clambered into it. They put on headphones. The door slammed, the guards withdrew, the rotors began to turn. The helicopter rocked, then rose. The ground began to drop away. Down there the media were running for their cars and chartered helicopters.

  ‘Well,’ the pilot said over the headphones, ‘back to Miami? That’s where I’m flight-planned, but I can change it.’

  ‘Fort Lauderdale, please,’ Charlie said. He turned to Jack. ‘I’ve had your boat moved to the police jetty there because it’s much nicer than Miami, and I’ve booked you into a good hotel on the beach.’

  Josephine said, ‘I think we should go straight to the police jetty.’

  ‘Like hell!’ Harker said. ‘The hotel. The best damn hotel in town, with the best restaurant and the best bar serving the best damn champagne.’ He added: ‘Your father’s not waiting at the hotel, is he?’

  Josephine said, ‘No. But I’ve seen him. He flew down from Boston this morning. He’s overjoyed, of course. Sends his congratulations to you and his apologies. Says he’s writing to you.’

  He snorted cheerfully. ‘Oh, I can’t wait. Does he now think I’m a great son-in-law?’ He added, ‘What’s happened to Luke?’

  ‘He’s waiting for us at the hotel,’ Charlie said.

  Josephine squeezed Harker’s hand hard. ‘Listen to me. You’ll be safer on the police jetty, believe me.’

  Harker frowned at her. ‘Meaning?’

  Josephine pointed at the back of the pilot’s head, then pulled off her earphones. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. She scribbled, We can’t talk now. But your CCB friends are after you I am sure.

  ‘Well, I think we can start our celebration right now,’ Charlie said brightly. ‘I just happen to have brought along a little picnic basket containing a bottle or three of champagne and a selection of other libations. And as it happens, the hotel where I’ve booked you in has a helicopter pad on the roof. It’s very secure …’

  55

  The Edgewater is a pleasant hotel on the suburban beachfront where the canals of Fort Lauderdale, Venice of America, flow out into the blue Gulf Stream. It is a pretty hotel, ten storeys high, bounded on the south side by the wide canal-mouth, on the east side by palms, the white beach and the sea. It has a thatched bar out in the gardens, a five-star restaurant with another bar on the rooftop below the helipad. The view is spectacular: on a clear day you can see down to Miami, and behind is a lovely view of the meandering canals and waterfront homes of Fort Lauderdale. The corner suite allocated to Harker and Josephine had a balcony view of both the sea and the canals.

  Josephine said, ‘I didn’t hear them approach because the wind was against us and our engine was on. I was sitting at the aft wheel, on automatic pilot, my back to the stern. I got up to adjust the mizzen because it was flapping, when suddenly I saw four men scrambling up over the stern rail from a speedboat. They were all wearing balaclavas. I screamed and two of them lunged at me. I lashed out as I tried to get back to the cockpit, I got one of them in the face and he tripped or crashed into the rail and fell overboard. And then the others were on to me. I can’t remember what happened exactly but I tried to kick, then suddenly I got a tremendous blow to the chest. I staggered backwards against the stern rail, then another blow, to the head. I crashed on to the deck behind the wheel and the next thing I knew there was blood in my eyes. I scrambled up and I saw the bastard coming at me again. I lunged backwards, and I must have hit the rail because the next thing I knew I was crashing into the sea, water in my gullet, choking. Thank God I was wearing my life-jacket. When I got my breath back all I saw was the boat a hundred yards away, heading into the wind. The speedboat was following it. I yelled and yelled, but it just kept on going. Then I heard a shot, maybe two. Then another two or three shots. Then more. Then the speedboat turned and came straight towards me.’

  Josephine breathed deeply. She took a tasteless sip of champagne, then continued, ‘I was terrified but I desperately hoped they weren’t going to let me drown. Even if they shot me it would be better than drowning.’

  Harker squeezed her hand.

  ‘But they didn’t shoot me, they hauled me aboard. I was crying. One of them was badly wounded, blood all over his chest. There was an argument – two of them wanted to shoot me and sink my body but the driver – his name was Derek – he said I was more useful alive.’ She snorted. ‘“For the moment.” Quote, unquote.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Harker said. ‘What did this Derek look like?’

  ‘Smallish. Wiry, tough. Blue eyes.’

  Harker said, ‘That’s him, Clements. So?’

  ‘So they took me back to their motor-yacht. I hadn’t noticed it before, it was about two miles away. The one who was badly wounded had to be taken to a doctor. They started off north-eastwards, into the Bahamas at full throttle. They locked me below in a cabin. I was frantic about you – I asked what had happened to you, but they said you were okay. I didn’t believe them, of course. I asked what they wanted and Derek just said they only wanted the boat – implying that they were just pirates.’ She looked at Harker. ‘But I didn’t believe that after what I had just discovered about your CCB past. And one of them had a distinct South African accent. And I’m sure I caught a few words in Afrikaans. The only reason they weren’t rushing after you to kill you was because one of them was badly wounded.’ She took a deep breath. ‘So we motored all that night and eventually I fell asleep. When I woke up I was let out to shower and eat, and I was told that the wounded man had been put ashore, handed over to a doctor.’

  ‘And his name was?’ Luke asked.

  ‘I subsequently overheard it was Dupont.’

  Harker nodded. ‘So then what happened?’

  ‘For the next two weeks we looked for you. Tried to catch up with you.’

  ‘Where did they look?’

  ‘The V
irgin Islands. That was my fault. I let slip the very first day that you and I had intended going to the Virgins. They figured you wouldn’t go north, turn back towards Florida, in case you bumped into them again.’

  ‘They were right.’

  ‘So they went flat out for the Virgins. But you had at least a two-day lead on them, we never even saw you on radar.’

  ‘That’s because I swung east, into the Atlantic. Their boat couldn’t follow me there because they would not have the fuel-range, whereas I had sails.’

  ‘Of course.’ Josephine nodded. ‘Didn’t think of that. Anyway, we finally found Rosemary in the British Virgin Islands. I was locked up all the time, only let out of my cabin to eat. Anyway, they found our boat but by that time you had already been arrested and flown off back to Florida. The boys got the story from the locals. They were terrified that you would tell the court about the whole CCB business and put the finger on them. So they hightailed it back up towards Florida, to a deserted island in the Bahamas. Evidently the idea was to use me as a hostage: Derek was going to get word to you to keep your mouth shut about the CCB and about the Long Island murder or unspeakable things would happen to me. And you, if you were ever free again.’ She sighed deeply. ‘Oh God, I was sick with fear. For you and me.’ She looked at Charlie. ‘Either way we were doomed – if Jack was acquitted they would murder him to make sure he didn’t spill the beans on them. And of course they were terrified that if Jack was convicted he would blurt out the truth to try to save himself from the electric chair. And whatever happened, they would have to kill me to stop me running to the police.’

  Harker squeezed her hand. Jesus. ‘Jesus. Go on.’

  Josephine took a big swallow of champagne. ‘And then,’ she said, ‘your trial started. The boys watched it all day, every day, every minute of the live coverage. They videoed it and re-watched it over and over. And they let me watch it. And,’ she sighed, ‘I was horrified. Horrified for you, horrified for me. Because the boys were sure you were about to tell the court the truth to save yourself from the electric chair. And that meant the whole CCB connection and the Long Island business would emerge.’