The Conway's Conspiracy

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The Conway's Conspiracy Page 14

by Joubert Richardson


  Miriam remained silent for a long moment. Marlon approached and tried to grab her. She vehemently pushed him back. “Oh, you, animal…” she cried vibrantly. “Go to hell…”

  In a burst of rage, she punched him on the face. He staggered and stepped back. Jumping up like a ghost, he ran toward his car. Through the open window, he waved and cried forcefully, “Five thousand, okay? No more than that … Tomorrow, at four... I’ll be waiting… Be on time…”

  The car’s headlights reverberated on her face and the dreadful image disappeared in the night.

  Miriam entered the living room and started drinking without paying attention to her aunt who tried to stop her. In distress, she ran to her room, lay down on her bed, and prayed with a Bible in her hand. As if reinvigorated, she stood up, picked up the telephone, and dialed a number.

  The next morning, she woke up early and left without saying a word to her aunt. It was already nine o’clock when she entered La Gaieté Restaurant, on the Westside of Montego Bay. Sitting down, she ordered some orange juice and waited patiently. At nine-thirty, Sergeant Jarrig Propilo arrived and quickly walked toward her table. He sat down and ordered some coffee.

  “Sorry for being late,” he said nervously. “I couldn’t make it on time... What’s going on, Mimi?”

  “Man, you’re in big trouble…” she sounded anxious and dramatic. “Marlon is going to denounce you...”

  “Why?” Jarrig stared at her.

  “He knows everything…” she answered alarmingly.

  “What do you mean?” the Sergeant seemed astonished.

  “I don’t know,” replied Miriam with a trepidant voice. “He swore to give you up…”

  “Jesus Christ…” yelled Jarrig. “What happened?”

  “You’ve got to do something...” said Miriam. “If not, we’re done…”

  “Almighty God...” mumbled the Sergeant. “What the hell does he want?”

  “This is a disaster,” replied Miriam. “Now, it’s life or death...”

  For a moment, Jarrig’s eyes scanned Miriam’s face. He then waved and asked awkwardly, “Do you’ve his address?”

  Miriam grabbed her purse, opened it, took a notebook, and gave up Marlon’s address. Jarrig wrote it down on a piece of paper and muttered restlessly, “I can’t stay here… They’re on my trail…”

  “Who…?” Miriam stayed agape and wide-eyed.

  “The police…” he answered with a hint of fear in his voice. “See yea… I’ll let you know…”

  Standing up, he quickly left the restaurant. Miriam drank her orange juice and went back home.

  * * *

  Marlon had spent an entire night playing poker in Coocoo Tavern, Southside of Montego Bay. After losing the six hundred dollars he had, the Master loaned him some, which disappeared on a few stakes. Amazed and angry, he asked for another loan. The Master sent him away. “Pay your debt

  first... You know the rule…”

  Vexed and penniless, he had to quit.

  Returning home at about seven o’clock in the morning, he parked in the garage, behind the building, and walked quickly toward his apartment. He was coming through the door when somebody patted his back. He vividly turned around.

  Dressed up like a clown, a man stood in front of him with a gun in his hand. The intruder looked at him and said dubiously, “Oh Marlon... You continue to sell drugs…”

  The blackmailer jumped. “What are you talking about…?”

  “You, devil…” the man pointed the gun on his face.

  Marlon seemed amazed. He was going to say something but was shot in the head, at pointblank. He staggered and collapsed on the floor. The killer ran to a car parked in front of the apartment complex, got in, and drove away.

  Jarrig did not go far. The detectives on his trail blocked the way and cornered him. He tried to escape on feet but was brutally subdued. In handcuffs, he was taken back to the crime scene where a mob had quickly assembled. In a fit of rage, Marlon’s neighbors assaulted the vehicle in an attempt to lynch him. Saved in extremis, he was driven to the Police Department, interrogated, and confined in a filthy cell.

  The events surrounding Marlon’s stunning murder suddenly took a dramatic turn. A growing number of witnesses came up to testify against the renegade police officer. What was being murmured for months turned into a circus and Jarrig’s collusion with the Conway brothers became public affair. A bank employee made headlines when he brandished photocopies of checks written by Jonass for Jarrig and his cousin.

  The same evening, Garth joined the Sergeant behind bars.

  Miriam was arrested the next day and her home thoroughly searched. They confiscated the radio apparatus and a few 100-dollar bills.

  Brother Bogarr was also arrested and their grandma suffered a stroke that left her paralyzed the waist down. When Miriam heard the news, she fainted and remained in a daze for several hours. Asking why her brother was in jail, she received a startling answer: the young man would be tried as an accessory to robbery and murder.

  Three days later, surprise! Bogarr was turned loose and, the next morning, the judge ordered her release. The evidence was not strong enough.

  She returned home where Martha welcomed her deliriously. The two women ran to see Bogarr. They found him in deep depression and on the verge of losing his sanity.

  Miriam took over and quickly brought order in the melee. Martha was given duty to take care of grandma. Slapped on the face, Bogarr regained his composure.

  The young woman made up a whole plan of action. Not knowing if her freedom would last, she activated the lever of her imagination and declared war to the world.

  Twenty-four hours after her release, while investigators were still on her trail, she manipulated the system and fled overseas. When the detectives realized they had been played, the robust Jamaican girl was out of town. Exhilarated, she sailed at full speed toward Trinidad & Tobago.

  Garth and Jarrig did not dare to denounce her, which would have worsened their cases. During their trials, they never mentioned her name. The jurors found them guilty as charged and the judge sentenced them: Jarrig, to life; Garth, to five years in prison.

  CHAPTER 10

  Joe in Love

  His arm around her waist, Jonathan laughed relentlessly. He only stopped to hug and kiss her. Fun-loving and childish, she played along and enjoyed every bit of it. She had just turned sixteen and the former maintenance boy was happy to get his own way with such a virginal girl. Uncle Joshua showed unbelievable apathy. Five 20-dollar bills cleverly slipped in the hand of the peasant was more than enough.

  The tourists were dealing with easy preys. Joshua and his niece considered them as a windfall. Poor and eager to make a buck, they showed unabated resilience.

  Jonathan took absolute control of the teenager and showed unremitting fervor. Unscrupulous Joshua abandoned the girl to a seemingly better fate.

  Three miles from Port of Spain, the group arrived on a riverbank and decided to take a break. Jonathan could not contain his enthusiasm. Contemplating the birds that flew over his head like a plague of locusts, he yelled buoyantly, “God Almighty… This is paradise…” Seizing Helen, he lifted her up and threw her on the grass. Under his companions’ dumbfounded gazes, he had sex with her. Playful, happy, and exhilarated, she laughed and screamed under the gutsy assault.

  Carried by his momentum, the baby undressed and frantically took off Helen’s clothes and underwear. Naked, kissing, and laughing, they splashed in the cold water.

  Enthralled by the spunky drive, Jonass waved and extolled theatrically, “Helen and Jonathan… What a wonderful pair… Come on, guys, give it up to them…” The former swindler clapped approvingly. In the spur-of-the-moment, the others applauded as well. Joshua looked at the young lovers, stamped around the bank, and grumbled unconvincingly, “Oh, you, reckless Helen… What a little devil…”

  “Wonderful, ain’t it?” Jonass stared him down. “So God’s creatures should live...”

&nb
sp; Peter admired the naked couple swimming in the river and images of another love story paced through. In a translucent melting, Miriam’s beautiful face superimposed Helen’s and overwhelmed the picture. The vagabond shivered and wallowed in the momentous evocation. Jonass approached and patted his back. “Don’t be lonesome…” the ringleader said fraternally. “If it’s God’s plan, you’ll be reunited…”

  Peter nodded, jumped on his feet, and walked slowly around the perimeter. Standing on the bank, Joshua threw pieces of rock toward Jonathan and carefree Helen. While Chapotto laughed and applauded, Jonass lay on his back and stared at the sky.

  * * *

  Jonathan and Helen were having the time of their lives. They were copulating for over ten hours without a break. In another room, at San Marco hotel, Jonass, Peter, and Chapotto

  planned their next move.

  Sitting around a table, they examined a large regional map. As he did in Jamaica, Jonass pointed out “strategic retreats” and “tactical locations”. Mountains, rivers, prisons, and police barracks were carefully marked out. Forests, parks, and meadows were also counted and their geographic configurations drawn on a paper.

  “We can’t stay here,” he rumbled nervously. “Our trail is wide and easy to follow… We must leave as soon as possible.”

  “Where will we go?” asked Peter.

  “We’ve got to cross the continent out...” the ringleader sounded sharp and confident. “Africa would be perfect…”

  “What country…?” inquired Chapotto.

  “Liberia...” Jonass mumbled hesitantly. “Over there, we would be home... Our lives would be forever transformed…”

  “How can we get there?” asked Chapotto.

  “Regular routes are not for us…” the ringleader was lordly and forceful. “Our photos are in airports around the globe… We need a ship.”

  “We don’t have much time,” said Peter. “If Marlon had denounced us, we can be arrested at any moment.”

  Jonass shook his head and stayed thoughtful for a moment. “Renting the cars with our fake identifications had allowed us to test the ground,” he declared confidently. “It proved the pieces are good enough to allow legal transactions. Perhaps it would be possible to use them for a trip aboard a transatlan- tic ship...”

  “We must act quickly,” insisted Peter. “My intuition tells me we’re in danger…”

  “Go wake up the baby…” Jonass ordered Chapotto. “He-

  len must go back home. We’re going to drive her to the station. The day will be used to take care of important businesses...”

  Chapotto walked to Jonathan’s room and knocked on the door. The baby took a long time to open. He appeared grim and moody. Chapotto’s intrusion obviously annoyed him. Nonchalantly, he lazed around the bed where a naked Helen stretched out.

  “Get up, man...” said Chapotto. “Jonass is waiting for you…”

  The ex-maintenance boy got up heavily. “Wait a moment… I’m coming…”

  “Helen must go home…” Chapotto uttered in a hurry. “We’ve important things to do and she can’t stay here. She’ll come back this afternoon.”

  “Who will drive her home?” Jonathan asked worriedly.

  “She’ll take the bus,” answered Chapotto.

  “No...” the baby retorted in a tantrum. “I’ll drive her myself…”

  “She’ll take the bus!!!” Chapotto yelled stridently. Making an about-face, the bodyguard returned to the other room.

  About thirty minutes later, Jonathan met up with them. Helen was kind of confused and seemed happy to go back home. Jonathan kept her tightly in his hairy arms, joking and promising to pick her up in the afternoon. Before leaving, the baby pulled a 100-dollar bill and slipped it in her little hand. She thankfully kissed him.

  They left the hotel and walked toward two cars parked in front of the building: a black Chevrolet Malibu and a red Datsun. Jonass, Peter, and Chapotto took place in the Chevrolet. Jonathan grabbed Helen’s right arm and went on to

  open the Datsun’s front passenger door.

  “We’re going together, in one car…” Jonass screamed nastily.

  The baby manifested his annoyance but obeyed the ringleader. A moment later, they drove away.

  At the bus station, Jonathan stepped out and walked Helen to the waiting line. The other gangsters stayed in the car. They saw the baby hugging the little peasant, giving her a long, passionate kiss; they then saw him running back like a happy toddler. As he got in the car, Peter asked jeeringly, “Hey, grandpa, what did you do to the little girl?” The question sparked an explosion of laughter.

  They spent most of the day out. It was already six o’clock in the evening when they returned to the hotel.

  “Joe,” Peter said to his younger brother, “you can’t go to pick up Helen. You’ve to stay with us.”

  “I will…” the former maintenance boy was frantic. “I promised …”

  Peter stared at him and shook his head. “Come on, man, be reasonable... You’re acting like a child.”

  “She is waiting for me,” yelled Jonathan. “I can’t do that…”

  “Let’s go get a drink,” Peter said jokingly. “That will cheer you up...”

  They went to the bar and ordered some alcohol.

  “I feel terrific,” mumbled Chapotto. “Port of Spain is a wonderful city…”

  “We did a good job… I was right to be optimistic…” Jonass sounded pleasant and gratified.

  “What a man, this steward…” Peter shrieked joyfully. “He is literally selling the boat… If everything goes this well

  we should be out…”

  “It’s like a miracle,” said Jonathan. “We knocked on the right door.”

  “Nothing is for sure,” Jonass warned them. “We’ve got to wait and see.”

  Chapotto nodded and stayed pensive for a moment. “What a nice melody…” he said, referring to the music that permeated the bar. “It cradles you like an infant...”

  The brothers laughed and mocked his corny pitch. “Sentimental Popo…” Peter jeered joyfully. “Look at that face… He has tears in his eyes…”

  “There is a heart underneath this rocky mountain,” Jonass winked at the bodyguard. “The artist often hides behind a monster...”

  They laughed and teased the Jamaican man. Suddenly, the music stopped and a frightening voice resounded on the radio. “Attention... You, Trinidadians, attention… The American killers are in town... This afternoon, the news hit us like a slap on the face... They escaped from Jamaica and landed in Chagramas... They’re now in our capital... Nobody knows where they hide…”

  There was a short silence; then, the threatening voice rang again. “A number of FBI agents have rushed here to catch up with them… The murderers are well-armed and will do anything to save their skins… City managers are here making a plea for help… A quarter of million dollars is the prize offered for the gangsters’ capture and conviction…”

  The quartet stared at each other and seemed paralyzed on their seats. Jonass looked furtively around him and observed waiters and customers. Pulling a few bills from his pockets, he put them on a table and they surreptitiously slipped

  away.

  Back in their room, they desperately argued about what to do.

  “We’re done…” Peter waved uncontrollably. “I warned you…”

  “It’ll be difficult to find a hiding spot,” Jonathan seemed to be in a state of shock. “Police presence must be heavy all over the district.”

  “Calm down…” Jonass replied boldly. “We’ve got to find an exit…”

  “The news broke out this afternoon,” Chapotto reminded them. “It’s probable somebody has already denounced us...”

  “Who…?” Jonathan stared at the bodyguard.

  “Joshua or Helen…” Chapotto mumbled hesitantly.

  “Helen would never do something like that…” the baby snapped in discontent.

  “What do you know about it?” Peter lo
oked at him. “You just met her... A saint would give up his soul for a quarter of million…”

  “Stop arguing!” Jonass was madly in control. “We’ve got to split…”

  The three men looked at the former swindler as if he was their last hope.

  “We must get out of here…” the ringleader uttered forcefully. “Let’s get our guns!”

  Taking the parts of his submachine gun, he quickly cobbled them together. His companions feverishly mimicked the frightening gesture.

  * * *

  Joshua McLarthy talked excitedly and seemed very nervous. The cops around him listened attentively. Galiss, Bogatt, and Canamera were in front. Leaving hastily Montego Bay, they had reached Port of Spain in the afternoon. As soon as they landed, the authorities began a frantic search for the bandits. Galiss wanted to avoid the media whose hoopla could jeopardize their strategy; but a few leaks warned the radio stations and a number of reporters pursued them around.

  Fortuitous circumstances allowed the gangsters to be aware of their presence only four hours after the fact. In a hurry, the investigators went to Chagramas, place of the bandits’ landing, indicated by Marlon. Their inquiry promptly produced crucial information. A number of peasants took them to Joshua’s home.

  Frightened, the man was very reluctant; but it took him little time to cooperate. Advised his collaboration could lead to a fabulous reward, Joshua showed incredible zeal. His niece, Helen, still hot from her sexual fling, was visiting a cousin in the neighborhood. The peasant demanded that she stayed out of the game.

  Fearing the gangsters could get away once more, Galiss and his cohort rushed toward San Marco hotel. An enthusiastic Joshua guided them.

  Canamera wanted to call the hotel to know if the gangsters were in. The local commander rejected the suggestion in fear it could compromise their tactics. Boasting about his troops’ unique capabilities, the Trinidadian Colonel assured them the gangsters’ bloody adventure would be soon over.

 

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