by Joe Conlan
“Where do we need to go?”
“We ain’t goin’ nowhere until you show me the money.”
“I’ve got the cash. Hop in, just you, not your buddies.” He flashed a roll of one hundred dollar bills to convince the man to get in the car.
“We’re goin’ to Carol City. You ain’t a cop, are you?”
“Do I look like a fuck’n cop? Hell no. Now, do you want the fuck’n sale or not? I don’t have time to waste.”
The two other men disappeared back into the shadows of the bridge while the spokesman of the group walked around the vehicle and climbed into the passenger seat. He said, “I gotta make a call first. I gotta make sure the stuff is available.”
“Fuck this, man. You said you could get it. Get out! I’m outta here.”
“Calm down, dude. I’ll get it for you. I just gotta make one quick call.”
“Do whatever the fuck you need to and hurry. I don’t have all night.”
The drug dealer pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed the number of his sister’s ex-husband.
“What you doin' callin' me at this hour, mothafucka?” asked the brother-in-law who was known as Candyman on the streets of Overtown.
“Hey Candyman, it’s Skinny. I’ve got a customer here for you that’s lookin’ for some big H. He wants two-fifty and he’s got the dough.”
“I know who the fuck you are dumb ass. Have you ever heard-a-caller I.D.? You sure this guy ain’t the heat? I’m gonna fuck you up if you get me arrested.”
“He showed me a roll of hundreds. He says he’s not a cop.”
“That don’t mean shit, dumb fuck. Check him for a badge and a piece.”
Skinny turned to Shem and said, “Dude, I have to search you for weapons or we can’t do business with you. He has what you need.”
“You want to do that right here under the bridge?”
“No man, take a right on 7th then a left on 10th and pull into the park on the right hand side. We’ll do it there.”
He followed Skinny’s instructions and parked his car in a lot adjacent to a baseball field at Reeves Park. They exited the Acura so that Skinny could pat him down. When Skinny was satisfied he was unarmed and didn’t have a badge, he called the Candyman back.
“He’s clean Candyman. What do you want me to do?”
“Count his fuck’n money and tell me how much he has.”
“He wants me to count your money.”
“No fuck’n way. I’ll hold the money and count while you watch.”
“That’s cool dude.”
Shem had to control his fermenting anger. He hated addicts. To him, they were like bugs deserving to be squashed under foot. He removed the roll of cash from his jacket pocket and counted out one hundred one hundred dollar bills.
“He’s got ten thousand G’s Candyman.”
“Bring him by and make it quick.”
It was nearly a fifteen minute drive to Carol City. Shem found himself merging back onto Interstate 95 south toward downtown Miami. Twelve minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of a project apartment building in the heart of the slums of Dade County. He allowed Skinny to exit the vehicle first. As the drug dealer was rising from the car, Shem quickly reached under his seat to retrieve the Colt automatic and placed it inside his jacket pocket. The jacket had a thick lining allowing him to conceal the pistol and silencer without creating an obvious bulge.
The seedy, run-down condition of the tenement reminded Shem of his days in his old neighborhood in Chicago. In spite of the hour, there were residents milling about the property, some gathered outside apartments to socialize and get high, others seemingly wandering aimlessly. Garbage and filth were scattered everywhere amongst children’s toys and people’s worthless personal belongings. A thick, offensive stench permeated through the common areas like dense smog that chose this particular complex to persecute.
Skinny led Shem to an apartment on the second floor where he knocked three times, hesitated then knocked an additional two times. The door was opened by a well muscled, middle-aged, African American male of average height dressed in a wife beater and a pair of basketball shorts. Shem could smell his stinking breath from ten feet away. He gave the tiny one bedroom apartment the once over. The entire residence consisted of a four-hundred square foot space divided into a kitchen, dining room and living room. The sole bedroom was partitioned from the rest of the apartment by strings of multi-colored hanging beads.
Shem noticed a large, clear, plastic bag of a white powdery substance on the dining room table. He was fairly certain there was no one else in the apartment. In the blink of an eye, he withdrew his pistol from his jacket pocket and shot both men between the eyes at point blank range. The two men instantly dropped to the floor as blood and brain matter soiled the carpet and living room wall. Shem’s guess that the bedroom was vacant was confirmed when he poked his head through the beads, saw no one then quickly entered and checked under the bed. He grabbed the bag off the table, opened it and sniffed its contents. It was odorless. He sampled the drug by placing a small amount on the inside of his bottom lip. The intensity of the bitterness told him it was a decent quality heroin. He sealed the bag, kicked the body of the skinny drug dealer out of the way of the door and exited the apartment.
The following Sunday morning, two days after Shem’s successful drug deal, the Joy of the Seas was scheduled to dock at Port Everglades, Florida at 6:00. Since it wasn’t to set sail until later on that afternoon, he slept in setting his alarm for 10:00am. Instantly awake and alert at the sound of resounding rock music from his radio, he jumped out of bed, took a shower and dressed in his former King Cruise Line security uniform. The previous evening, he refurbished his old credentials that allowed him access to restricted areas of the port and the company cruise ships. He clipped the badges to his shirt pocket, grabbed his bag he packed in the early hours of the morning and walked out the door. Before he left the parking lot, he pasted a falsified Port Everglades parking decal to the windshield of his car.
As a former security guard, Shem was familiar with the embarkation and disembarkation procedures followed by King. He expected that when he arrived at the port, the warehouse where passengers were registered would be buzzing with activity. It was always a chaotic spectacle when the old passengers were exchanged for the new. Crowds of people would be leaving the ship and searching for their luggage while hundreds of other passengers gathered in line to be the first to board for the next cruise. The crew members and port employees in charge of check-in would be running around like chickens with their heads cut off.
When he arrived at the port at 11:00am, he parked his vehicle in the employee parking garage. From there, he proceeded on foot to the terminal where the Joy of the Seas was docked. As he had predicted, the registration area was a madhouse. He was able to make his way through the building without attracting the least bit of attention. Since Customs and Immigration already cleared the ship, the only people manning the warehouse were employees of King Cruise Line and several port security guards. Holding up his credentials, he walked nonchalantly past the security officer guarding the crew member’s entrance to the ship. The officer barely took notice of him as he waved him through.
The next phase of his plan was going to be a little bit trickier. The night before, he looked up O’Brien’s cabin number on the King Cruise Line employee website. He was relatively certain his former colleague would be working since all security guards were on duty on disembarkation/embarkation day. There was a chance, however slight, that O’Brien was sick or was granted the day off and could be in his cabin. If that was the case, Shem had a back-up plan. He didn’t want to have to kill Ken, not that he had a problem putting a bullet in his head. It would be a nuisance to have to take the time and risk to clean up the mess. Even worse, it had the potential of screwing up the whole mission.
The Joy of the Seas was a sister ship to the Diamond meaning their design was identical. Shem easily navigated his way through th
e area restricted from passengers to O’Brien’s room. He knew exactly where each surveillance camera was located in the crew quarters. Not, that it mattered much on these frenetic Sundays, since the monitors weren’t scrutinized as closely. Even more convenient for Shem, there were no cameras that provided a feed of O’Brien’s door. When he arrived at the cabin, he removed his lock-picking kit from his bag and was able to open the door in the time it would take to use a keycard. The room was vacant. Without wasting a precious second, he pulled a plastic sack containing two-hundred grams of heroin out of his bag and hid it in O’Brien’s underwear drawer underneath a stack of t-shirts. He then quickly gathered his belongings and hurried out of the cabin closing the door behind him.
Once he was off the ship, he located the nearest terminal pay phone and called the number for Human Resources at King Cruise Line headquarters in Ft. Lauderdale. He asked for the person in charge and was transferred to the assistant director on duty. Shem explained to the HR representative he was a Joy of the Seas crew member who wanted to remain anonymous, but was very concerned about Security Officer Ken O’Brien. He told her he was sure that if Ken’s cabin was searched, they would find a significant amount of heroin that he had seen with his own eyes. The Human Resources Assistant Director thanked him for the information and assured him she would take care of the matter as soon as possible. Later that afternoon, two hundred grams of one of the purest forms of heroin were found in Ken O’Brien’s dresser by one of his colleagues on the Joy’s security staff. O’Brien was fired on the spot after more than twenty years of loyal service. That was the least of his worries. He was escorted off the ship by five narcotics agents with the Federal Bureau of Investigations, arrested, and officially charged with trafficking heroin, a felony that carried a minimum mandatory sentence of fifteen years in prison.
Exactly one week after Ken O’Brien was fired and arrested, the morning after Daniel’s geographical profiling coup and the day of his cruise, Daniel was up bright and early. It was a bit discouraging he was finding it an effort to get in the appropriate mindset for his vacation. His heart was with the new discovery and joining his colleagues in pursuit of the lead. He was fighting for his marriage and his family, yet he wished he was getting ready for the office rather than seven days in paradise with his wife. The idea didn’t sit well with him. If Deborah knew how he felt, she probably wouldn’t ever consider taking him back. His old friend, guilt was bracing itself to pay him one of its uninvited visits, though Daniel was starting to believe the FBI psychologist was right when she said it was his comfort zone. It was without question an emotion that often drove him and determined his behavior. This time, he chided himself for his lack of consideration to the mother of his children who was loving, compassionate and generous enough to try to forgive his transgressions and give him a second chance. Giving his all to her and their struggle to save their marriage was the least he could do.
Disgusted, he threw his personal file of the serial murder case which he had been holding in his hand into his briefcase. He hadn’t even packed yet. Deborah and her parents wanted to be sure they were at the port and prepared to board at the earliest possible moment, twelve noon. He shut out all thoughts of work and started to pull shorts and t-shirts from a plastic bag he stored under his bed. An hour and a half later, he had packed one medium-sized suitcase and a duffle bag and it was time to pick up the boys then drop them off at his brother, Dominick’s house in Hollywood. They would be spending the week with him. A talk with the agents assigned to their protection was also on his agenda. The fact that a twenty-four hour a day undercover unit was assigned for the continued surveillance of the boys was instrumental in getting Deborah to feel comfortable leaving them behind. He wanted to personally hand them his cell phone number and the ship information and to instruct them to contact him at the slightest indication of suspicious behavior.
Once all his chores were done, he made his way back to the condo where Deborah was waiting for him. It was still early, but knowing her, she could probably use a little assistance getting ready so they could make it to her parents’ place on time. They were having a limousine service pick them up there at 11:15. He was surprised to find she was nearly ready when he walked in the front door. All of her luggage was aligned in a neat row in the living room. Recognizing her sincere enthusiasm and excitement to begin their endeavor, the guilt resurfaced in all its fervor. The anticipation of the vacation was always a big part of the fun for Deborah and it was showing in spades. Deborah had a pot of coffee going and they sat down to have a quick cup before they left for the Tylers. Daniel’s inner battle continued as he tried in vain to ignore it and absorb some of Deborah’s oozing passion. He could only hope that the stress and torment weren’t showing on the outside.
The Falcone and Tyler families couldn’t have been more pleased with their accommodations on the cruise ship. They were both upgraded to deluxe owner’s suites. The cabins had their own private bedrooms, a separate living and dining area, two balconies, a private courtyard with a pool, hot tub, steam room, gym equipment and sun deck. Daniel and Deborah walked through the door of their suite to find a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne and a huge basket of fresh fruit waiting for them on the living room coffee table. There was a vase of purple, red and yellow lilies on the kitchen counter and a centerpiece of assorted flowers on the dining room table. Next to the centerpiece, Deborah found a note from Annie asking them to accept her gift of the flowers and champagne and bidding them a wonderful cruise.
Deborah found herself having mixed emotions about the gifts. On the one hand, it was nice to be treated like royalty. It was a stretch to think she was ready to completely forgive Annie. Hypocritical or not, there was still plenty of work to be done before she would be able to control the negative feelings she experienced at the mention of Annie’s name. She commented, “Do you think Annie might have gone a little bit overboard, no pun intended?”
“I’m not gonna complain. This is amazing. I could live like this.” Daniel made a beeline to the bottle of champagne. “Perhaps a toast is in order,” he suggested.
“Daniel, really? Do you have to start drinking right away?”
“Sorry, I just thought it would be nice to toast the beginning of our cruise.”
“Why don’t we wait for Mom and Dad? Or better yet, why don’t we have it with the first formal dinner?”
“Sure, honey, whatever you think.”
Desperately wanting to change the subject, Daniel inquired, “So honey, what you think of the one king size bed?”
“Hmm, I wonder if Annie planned for that, too.”
“If she did, I like her thinking.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, buster. We’ll see about that,” said Deborah, half-kidding. “For now, let’s think about getting these suitcases unpacked.”
“I’ll join you in a sec, honey. I just want to give the office a call real quick.”
“Tell me you’re not serious, Daniel.”
“No, you don’t understand, babe. We had a huge....”
Deborah cut him off in mid-sentence. “I don’t even want to hear it. Are you kiddin’ me? We are here to make a decision about our lives together,” she said emphasizing each and every word. “You tell me you can’t live without me. You know my issues with work. I don’t want to come in second on this cruise, Daniel. It’s the least you could do for me...Unbelievable. Practically the first thing you think of.” Deborah’s eyes welled up with tears. “Just seven days. It’s not asking a lot. You don’t think they can get along without you? This is not a good start.”
“I’m sorry, honey. You’re right. I’m a fuck’n idiot. I know, it’s no excuse, but we might have identified the serial killer. But, that’s the last I’ll talk about it. I promise. This cruise is about us.”
“Don’t promise me, promise yourself. I tell you what. If you’re serious, give me your cell phone. I’ll keep it. That way you don’t have any temptation and I won’t have to wonder whether you’r
e sneaking off to call the office. I know you. You know what I mean. You won’t forget about this. If you give me your phone it’ll at least show me you’re making an effort. Otherwise, I’ll just get off this ship right now, before we even leave Ft. Lauderdale.”
Displeased with himself, Daniel saw no way out of the situation. He hoped he hadn’t already blown it. She was right. He would obsess about the case the entire cruise, eventually break and call Leland. It wasn’t fair to her. She deserved his undivided attention. The task force was more than competent to manage the case for the short week he would be gone. If anyone needed to contact them about the boys, Deborah had her phone and an agent could easily contact the ship. He handed his cell phone to Deborah. She shut if off then locked it in the digital safe along with a few other precious items sending Daniel out of the room before she set the password.
Approximately nine hours earlier, in the wee hours of the morning, Shem Chassar woke to the sound of his alarm. Normally, he was just winding up his night at that time, especially since he stopped following Annie to work due to constant FBI surveillance. This morning, the Joy of the Seas would be arriving at 6:00am in Port Everglades for the first day of the agent’s cruise. It was an absolute necessity that Shem be extremely sharp and alert for most of the early part of the day. He had gone to bed and taken a pill to assure sleep at 8:00 the night before. He had already stowed all essential provisions needed to execute his plan in a small suitcase/briefcase similar to the kind used by trial attorneys carrying large files. His clothing and other personal items were packed in a larger bag marked with passenger tags provided by the cruise line indicating the cabin number he reserved under the name Isaac Jefferson.
Despite his aversion to out of shape people, Shem had spent the last several months deliberately putting on twenty- five pounds. Since the age of 21, his typical daily routine included two workouts a day. He hadn’t been to the gym once since he began his undertaking to gain weight. The extra pounds were a hindrance to his agility and prowess, but he didn’t allow it to concern him. Disguise was a much more vital matter. He was confident that after the cruise when he moved out of the state of Florida, he would be back in shape in no time.