The Conway's Conspiracy

by Joubert Richardson

  He looked around him, nodded, and continued, “Shaken and exhausted, we remained faithful to the rule of law. The bandits fell during violent confrontations. They evaded capture several times and fought with extreme courage… Only one was captured. He is in a county jail and, tomorrow, will show up in court for arraignment… Ladies and gentlemen, we’re now ready to answer your questions.”

  A man raised his hand and yelled with a strident voice, “Detective, you’re pathetic… You…”

  At this moment, Coroner Lee Ziang Pyen entered the room and talked briefly to Galiss and Canamera. The trio left the podium and returned, a few minutes later.

  “What’s going on?” the same man asked forcefully.

  “Unexpected news…” Galiss waved to him. “The press conference is postponed…”

  “Why is that?” the individual stayed agape and wide-eyed.

  “You’ll have explanations later...” Canamera’s voice was surprisingly weary. “We’ve to go…”

  “What do you mean?” the man insisted vividly.

  “There is a new development…” Galiss said in a hurry. “Please, vacate the premises…”

  In the company of a security guard, they left through the back door. As they took place in Lee’s car, a young journalist grabbed Galiss’ arm. “Man, I need answers to my questions…” he yelled adamantly.

  The detective pushed him back and he fell on the pavement. That legitimate reaction brought considerable trouble to the special agent. The next day his picture was published in local and national media. A few articles depicted him as a wild, ill-tempered policeman. Immediately, a lawsuit was set in motion.

  Soon, this unfortunate episode was overridden by alarming news. A disturbing rumor shut off everything and took first stage: the FBI had discovered Jonass’ subterfuge.

  The ringleader’s death, published around the globe, was a lie. Jonass was still on the loose. Two of the bodies transported from Trinidad were fake corpses and “the jokers” could not answer the legitimate questions of the American people. Rapidly, the event took incredible proportions and Florida security agencies seemed out of control.

  Flown to Miami, Joshua Mc Larthy identified Chapotto’s corpse but swore the other person was not the ringleader. “He had escaped…” the peasant screamed frantically. “He is hi-

  ding in Trinidad…”

  Thrown into a panic, Galiss rushed back to Port of Spain; but that unsettling move was not enough to calm down the politicians. They decided to take drastic actions. The delegate’s blunder was unforgivable. Outraged and showing their gums, they demanded the veteran’s immediate dismissal.

  * * *

  In Port of Spain, Galiss and Canamera found the Police Department in startling effervescence. Jonass’ unbelievable escape was the news of the day and city authorities blamed overtly the FBI delegate. Overpowered as soon as he landed, the special agent faced a fiery police chief. Without hesitation, the Trinidadian Colonel held Galiss responsible for the fiasco.

  According to local authorities, the American agent showed very poor judgment. That the bandits’ corpses were transported to Miami without primary identifications was incredibly stupid. Galiss’ cavalier attitude was a gross expression of his professional incompetence.

  The delegate had to hear it all and he made a laudable effort to contain his impatience. Upset, Canamera engaged in a fight with the Trinidadian Colonel. Only the Mayor’s quick intervention prevented a disaster. Both parties finally acknowledged they were wrong and agreed on the urgent need to capture the ringleader.

  They went headlong on Jonass’ trail, aware of the precari- ousness of their situation. The ruffian was several days ahead and they had no clue on where he fled. They broke out noisi-

  ly with no clear objective. The need to apprehend the bandit gave way to an array of uncontrollable measures. It was manna for journalists. They picked up every piece of it. All day long, radio stations heavily broadcast the annoying facts of a failed investigation.

  As they crisscrossed several Caribbean countries tracking down elusive ghosts, Jonass appeared on the shores of Bonaire, a Dutch Island, near Curaçao. He stopped over for an hour before boarding a ship toward an unknown destination. Three weeks later, he reappeared; this time, in Liverpool, England. Washington was imploring for British help when Interpol sent a telegram revealing Jonass’ presence in Marseille, France. Five days later, the agency recanted. The gangster was seen on the shores of Dakar, Senegal.

  Then, there was a deep silence. Overwhelmed and frightened, the managers did not know what to do. Their clumsy behavior warned the American people that the idea of complete failure in the investigation for Jonass’ arrest was a realistic outcome.

  * * *

  Galiss and his colleagues had done their best to capture the murderers. They were abandoned to a pitiful fate. Called back from Jamaica where they went in hope of finding Jonass, they returned to Miami, well aware of their precarious situation. As they stepped off the plane, news of a stunning discovery suddenly broke out: at last, the rifles used in the Hauss and Caust massacre were found. They were buried deep in a swamp of the Everglades.

  The detectives were not allowed to examine them. Dismissed with a brutal order to keep quiet, they had to go back home until further notice; otherwise the authorities would not answer for their safety. Canamera wanted to react but the chief of Florida State Law Enforcement cut him off abruptly, “You’ve failed, Cana… It’s time to visit the babies…”

  The two detectives’ demotion disrupted a well-set inves- tigative mechanism and a great deal of experience was wasted. To conform to the volatile situation, the new investigators did not dare take advantage of it. The unfavorable prejudice consecutive to the old team’s harsh dismissal completely isolated Galiss and Canamera. Their police method was inefficient and it was time to try other formulas.

  Throwing them out, the managers forgot that three of the five brothers were killed and Jonathan in prison. Prompt to get rid of them in view of satisfying public opinion, the politicians showed incredible professional aberration. They entrusted the investigation to career detectives completely unaware of the Hauss & Caust affair’s complex background. They were quickly overwhelmed.

  A rapid trip across Trinidad convinced them of their ineffectiveness. Their first report, addressed to panic-stricken managers, bounced back as a boomerang. Like their predecessors, they were brutally dismissed. A commission was hastily formed to oversee the investigation. It did not last: just the time for a few inflammatory verbal exchanges.

  With no one else left to blame, the managers did their mea culpa and accepted to take a fresh look at the situation. When that initiative occurred, the ringleader was gone. Somewhere, in a corner of the world, “Nass” got ready for a new career.

  * * *

  A warm breeze blew through the air and the sun slowly disappeared on the horizon. Its expiring reverberation seemed engaged in a last stand against the invading shadows of the night. On a beach of Miami, vacationers folded their apparatuses and dispersed in all directions. Their evaporating silhouettes offered a picturesque vision.

  In Jasper Cottage, Graham wheeled out his chair to enjoy the wonderful spectacle of the summery twilight. On the way down, the disabled soldier stopped briefly to contemplate the sea.

  The cottage was an enclave, part of a large estate, situated a few feet from the beach. Trees and coconut palms gave it a sylvan, comfortable appearance. Graham was immediately seduced and did not hesitate to rent it.

  The ex-FBI agent spent his days receiving friends, reading newspapers, or examining the Conway brothers’ pictures. At the beginning, members of his family visited often. By being around, they tried to make the situation more sustainable.

  Overtime, Graham grew irritable and extremely difficult to deal with. One by one, people deserted the cottage. Friends were rare and parents came only on occasions. The nurse complained and the maid threatened to quit. A profound silence shrouded the place and only the du
ll sound of the sea waves cradled the agent’s crippling lethargy.

  That day, Graham stayed a long while under the coconut palms. The evening breeze was comforting and he cozily languished in the wheelchair. Eyes focused on the sky, he contemplated the crepuscule descending on the fading hori-

  zon; then, slowly, he bowed and dozed.

  When somebody patted his shoulder, he sprightly woke up. Seeing Galiss and Canamera, he clapped and jittered like a child. “Oh, hey, guys… What a joy to see you…”

  Galiss bent down, hugged him, and said, “We had planned to come yesterday but Canamera was in Atlanta.”

  “What was he doing over there?” he asked feverishly.

  “We’re preparing a documentary about the Conway family,” Canamera answered with a gentle smile. “I was garnering information.”

  “Ah, those murderers…” he sounded angry and vindictive.” Any news about Jonass…?”

  “Interpol has signaled his presence somewhere in Morocco,” said Galiss. “He is rich... He must be living like nabob…”

  “Jonathan’s trial will begin tomorrow,” Canamera looked at Graham and shook his head. “It’s probable that they call you.”

  “I ain’t going anywhere...” he retorted aggressively. “They treated us like pariahs… The hell with them…”

  “The District Attorney said that your presence could have considerable impact,” insisted Canamera. The law obliges you…”

  “I won’t go anywhere…” the disabled detective cut him off. “They’ve got to find someone else…”

  “It’s incredible the wrong those bandits did to our society,” Galiss sounded bored and dejected. “They put everything upside down.”

  “I’m waiting for the day Jonass will be captured and dragged in a court of law. He has got to pay…” Graham was implacable.

  “Police are still on his trail,” Canamera answered stoically. “Maybe the day will come…”

  “I’m optimistic,” said Galiss. “Outlaws have been tracked down after decades of investigation. We must not be desperate.”

  “Did Jonathan confess?” Graham asked eagerly.

  “No,” Canamera shook his head. “He continues to proclaim his innocence.”

  “What can we expect?” inquired Graham.

  “A conviction seems certain…” answered Galiss.

  “What about the prize…?” continued Graham.

  “Nothing has been yet decided,” replied Galiss. “They’re waiting for Jonass’ arrest.”

  “Who do you think should get the money?” asked Graham.

  “A number of people are in line,” Galiss grinned sarcastically. “There are Joshua, Bonny, and a dozen more… The managers will not budge before Jonass’ capture.”

  “I’m upset…” moaned Canamera. “They don’t appreciate anything we did...”

  “It’s normal,” Galiss answered with a bit of frustration. “The American people are easy to coerce… They laugh and cry for any reason...”

  “I’m going away…” Canamera sounded sad and disenchanted. “I want to spend time with my family.”

  Graham raised his head and scanned the skyline. “What a prodigious creation...” he mumbled musingly. “Look at this twilight and tell me I’m wrong.”

  Galiss grinned and shook his head. “Happiness must look like this sleepy horizon,” he observed with a somber smile. “God is somewhere between the sea and the sky...”

  JONATHAN’s TRIAL

  THE PROSECUTION

  (Closing arguments)

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, we’ll begin by exposing the circumstantial evidences of the Hauss and Caust holdup. We’ll put in front of you some damning facts in the diabolical development of the Conway’s conspiracy. We’ll ask you to consider the subsequent events separately and as a bulk of incriminating proofs, so, you can figure out if it is even possible to exonerate Jonathan.

  Broadly viewed as one of the most extraordinary events in American judicial annals, this crime finds its genesis in the horrible depravity of five brothers who had sworn to live rich at the expense of society or to die at the hand of God. To rationally explain this awful transgression, we must go fifty years back. At that time, the Afro-American social dilemma was a cause of constant trouble for this nation.

  A nineteen-year-old orphan, Josefina lived with her uncle when she got involved with a sexagenarian and became pregnant. Married and father of a large progeny, the old man refused to take responsibility. Fearing her uncle’s wrath, the adolescent quickly gave in to a thirty-five-year-old man, named Joseph, and began a torrid sexual affair.

  Jonass was born, November 30, 1928, in the modest room where his mother lived, in Atlanta. Despite the notorious affair with the teenager, Joseph did not adopt the baby. Struggling to avoid a negative impact on his legitimate family, the man threatened to abandon Josefina if she talked about it. She obeyed and continued to live in a despicable

  situation.

  After about two years under Joseph’s horrid grip, she found a job in a restaurant, rented a little apartment, and fled with her newborn. Jonass was an irritable baby and cried constantly, which made it difficult to find steady help. Wherever she went, the young mother carried her infant son on her back.

  Mr. and Mrs. Salisbury, the couple that adopted Jonass when he was three years old, testified in this court and eloquently described Josefina’s dire situation. In heartrending terms, they explained how they became a protector to the young mother before they adopted her first child.

  Soon after that adoption, Josefina became pregnant and gave birth to another boy, named Garry. In the course of eight years, she brought three other babies to the world: Edward, Peter, and Jonathan; all with unknown fathers.

  An extraordinary occurrence of fate turned things around for the young mother. All her children were adopted by professionally and economically secured couples. The Conway brothers’ upbringing took place in comfortable and well-kept homes. They went to good schools and graduated with excellent academic grades.

  Jonass, the first to benefit from such enviable support, showed the way to his siblings. Despite being raised in different homes, they lived in the same city and were constantly in brotherly contacts. Jonass was the model they followed in everything they did; for their sake or their demise.

  After earning an MBA, Jonass was hired in a local bank as a financial officer. He was immediately recognized as a well- grounded and smart professional, which gave him leverage to deceive his employer.

  In heinous collusion with an ex-convict, he embezzled one hundred thousand dollars but got nothing of it. The conman fled with the money and Jonass was arrested. Convicted and sentenced to six years in prison, he did half of that time before being released for good conduct. That terrible experience changed his life forever; but, unfortunately, it also changed the lives of his younger siblings.

  Profoundly affected by the time he had spent in jail and unable to find work in his sensitive profession, Jonass became angry against the American justice system. Having played a crucial role in the lives of his brothers, he was their role model and they were sentimentally attached to his fate. They had no doubt he had been unfairly treated by the justice system.

  When Jonass tried to get them involved in a criminal enterprise, they showed no resistance. Along with their older brother, they received stiff sentences for several felonies committed in the name of their own justice system.

  Making crime a way to take revenge against society, the brothers traveled around the country searching for a daily bread they refused to earn with their sweats. Robbery, swindle, kidnapping, and rape are profusely described in their criminal records. Convicted several times, they spent many years in jail without ever showing the desire to change their lives.

  Josefina died at the age of fifty-six of a lung cancer. After the funeral of the mother they only knew late in their lives, the brothers left Atlanta and went to Florida; first to Fort-Lauderdale; and then to Miami.

  Lif
e in the sunny state seemed to be uncharacteristically quiet for the Conway brothers; but they were planning their

  most devastating coup. Despite their apparently unsurmountable criminal records, they found a way to get Jonathan a job at the Hauss & Caust Bank.

  Assigned to the Maintenance Department, Joe showed remarkable ability. His former supervisor had testified here and had highly praised the young man’s sense of responsibility; but his attitude changed after the deadly holdup. Using a tactical trick, he cleverly got himself fired for incompetence.

  Jonathan is a thirty-six-year-old man with a passion for criminal intrigues. Developed by two eminent psychologists, his profile shows a depth of callousness underneath a corny behavior. He is deliberately erratic and sophisticated in crescendo… His perceptive faculty reaches eight on a scale of ten. As a responsible subject, his competence is irrefutable. Nothing troubles his intellectual performance. His phony friendliness and ostentatious mannerism are strongly marked by his aggressive nature.

  Ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, sitting on this bench is a man who acts in complete awareness. At the Hauss & Caust Bank, he was motivated by the criminal thought that governed his conduct: loot money and fly away.

  Taking a close look at his deceptive professional evolution, we first see a man preoccupied to be good and nice; but, quickly, we discover the real Joe: a vicious conspirator whose shady activities aimed at a lethal objective: get inside and hit it big.

  Conceived in the-spur-of-the-moment, the incredible plot took progressively a formidable proportion. The action to be committed was so awful it inspired a sacrosanct union between desperate brothers who were determined to live rich or to die.