"They still around?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. You got anybody you talk to in records?"
"Yeah, old McKenna."
"Ask Mac to give you a rundown on the stooges."
"He'll know? That's all I need?"
"Should be, but just in case, José Valdez is the name to remember. He's Tío Juan's nephew. Nasty piece of shit, too. Real psycho."
****
"What's Rodriguez up to, José?" Juan Camacho was sitting beside his swimming pool, watching his latest playmate rub suntan lotion over her impossibly curvy body. He took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of coconut oil and warm female flesh as he balanced the encrypted satellite phone on his shoulder.
"Don't know, Boss. He don't come over here much. Left Mustique once since we been here, and took the ferry up to Kingstown."
"Did you follow him?"
"Sí, certo. He almost tripped over me, but he don't see me, 'cause I smell too bad, you know, Tío."
"What did he do in St. Vincent?"
"A local man met him at the ferry, and they drove away. I don't know where they go, but they come back together, and Rodriguez, he get on the 4 o'clock ferry back to Mustique."
"You gotta find out who the man was, José."
"Tío Juan, you like everybody else. You think I'm stupid. The man is Ozzie Johnston. You hear of him?"
"No, José. What did you learn about him?"
"Big time operator in Kingstown, Boss. He live on an old sugar plantation, grow some weed, ship it all over the islands down here. Easy to find out about. Some of the fishermen in the rum shop where I wait, they tell me all about him. He got the fix in with the cops here. Two of the fishermen, they been runnin' some dope to Baliceaux sometimes."
"So, Big Jim's smokin' dope, big deal." Camacho grunted with irritation.
"Maybe, Boss. But he smokin' lots. They run about a ton every two weeks. Complain 'cause business bad now. They hopin' Big Jim fix things up with Johnston so they get back to work."
José held the phone away from his ear until his uncle stopped yelling. When it was quiet, he brought it back to his ear. "Me and the boys could ask him a few questions, Boss."
"Not yet, José. Just stay on him. Let's see what else he's doin', okay?"
"Sí, Tío. Hasta luego."
****
"Hello, Phillip. It's Paul. How are you?"
Phillip set his coffee down next to the plate of pastries that he had picked up on his way home from taking Sandrine to work. "Good to hear from you. How's Miami?"
"Same as always. Bustling. I miss the islands already."
"So come visit. There's plenty of room here."
"I may do that, but I don't want to intrude on the newlyweds."
"Damn. Everybody knows. There's no privacy anymore."
"Yeah. Look, Mario told me about you and J.-P., that somebody's snooping around asking questions."
"That's true. They're looking for Sharktooth, too, but they're pretty clumsy about it. He was practically watching them look."
"It's probably a good thing for them they didn’t find him." Paul chuckled at the thought of the giant bald-headed Rastafarian with his dreadlocks to his waist.
"Yep. He's thinking maybe he'll track them a while, see what they're up to, but I think we just need to stay cool. I think that mob will sort this mess out, if we just stay out of the way."
"Maybe, Phillip. That's why I'm calling. I've been asking around a little myself. There's a guy here that everybody thinks runs the Caribbean for El Grupo, and he just sent three of his boys down to Baliceaux to baby-sit. One of them left an unhappy girlfriend here, and she was running her mouth down on Calle Ocho in one of the bars."
"Okay, so they're probably checking up on our boy Rodriguez."
"Yeah. Looks that way. One of them is a real nutcase. Everybody thinks he's a hey-boy for the other two, but he's actually the Boss's nephew. Smart as hell and crazy to boot. Keep your eyes open for a skinny little cross-eyed Cuban with two yard apes in tow. They're the muscle, but he's the brains, and he likes to cut people. My guess is they'll end up punching Rodriguez's ticket before long."
"As long as they stay focused on Rodriguez, sounds like we'll be all right, Paul."
"Yeah, I think so, but you know what these guys are like. Watch yourself, and tell Dani, too."
"Right. Thanks, Paul."
"No problem. See you at the wedding."
"Okay, Paul. Do you know when it is?"
"Not yet, but I'll let you know as soon as I hear," Paul said, hanging up as Phillip laughed ruefully.
****
Dani and Liz were aboard the newly rechristened Vengeance. Dani had picked up the documentation, which had been sent via Fed Ex to the broker's office, and Liz had just finished applying gold leaf to the new name on the stern. They were making lists of everything they would need to buy and do before they took off for a shakedown cruise when Dani's cell phone rang. Phillip told her the latest news from Sharktooth and Paul.
"So how's the new boat?" He asked, having exhausted the other topic.
"She's wonderful. Can't wait to get you and Sandrine out for a sail. We're getting ready to stock her up and head down your way, any day now."
"That's great, Dani. Take whatever you need from Kayak Spirit. I don't have any plans to move her just yet."
"Thanks, Phillip. We'll do that. I'll make sure she's all tucked in before we leave. Don't worry about her."
"Thanks. If I don’t talk to you before you leave, you two have a good sail, and watch out for that skinny, cross-eyed Cuban."
"Okay, Phillip. My best to Sandrine." Dani disconnected and turned to give Liz the latest news.
"Sounds like the crooks will sort themselves out. I hope so, anyway," Liz said.
Chapter 14
Ozzie was having an early lunch in the rum shop near the ferry dock in St. Vincent. He focused on the roti in his fingers, the grease running down his chin as he savored the filling of rich, greasy chicken curry. Chewing carefully because of the bones, he was only half listening to the man who was talking in a low voice with one of his two bodyguards. As he put the roti on his plate to pick the bones from his mouth, the bodyguard approached the table.
"Man want to talk wit' you, Ozzie. Say somebody ax questions 'bout you an' Big Jim the other day."
"Who is that man, Samson? He looks familiar, but I can't quite place him."
"He name Howard, Ozzie. Jefferson Howard. He run weed dungda de islan' for you, when the fish don' bite."
"Ah! Of course. Send him over."
The big man looked at Howard and nodded, waving him to the table. Howard approached, but stopped a couple of steps away and stood, his eyes downcast and his hands clasped in front, waiting patiently to be noticed.
"Yes, Howard, what do you have for me?" Ozzie asked, his hands resting, relaxed, flat on the table.
"Thank you, Mister Johnston. Sorry to bother you when you eat, but you tol' me to let you know, ennybody ever ax 'bout yo' bidness."
"Yes, yes, Howard. Look at me, please, when we're speaking to one another. Who was asking?"
"Cuban fella. He smell bad, too. Worse than when I been cuttin' fish."
"Do you know this man?"
"Never see him befo', Baas."
"What did he ask you?"
"He see the man from Baliceaux get in the car wit' you, and he ax me and Gerald who the man be."
"What did you tell him, Howard?"
"Me, I don' say nothin', Baas, but Gerald, he be drinkin' the rum befo' the man come. He tell the man, he say, 'That Big Jim, from Baliceaux. Jefferson an' me, we take the weed dungda to he, mebbe week, two week, all a' time.' He bad drunk, Baas. I be kickin' he, try to make he hush, but he tell the man ev'yt'ing he know."
"What did he look like, this Cuban?"
"He small fella, like boy, almos'. Slim, wit' messy hair. Smell bad."
"You said that before. What else? Think, Howard. Picture him in your mind. How can I recognize him?"
"
Well, Baas, one t'ing I 'member 'bout he."
"Yes?" Ozzie's hands clenched into fists, but he remained the picture of patience.
"When he look at you, one eye look at you, an' other one look at he nose. Ver' hard to look he in eye, Baas."
"Okay, Howard. Thank you for telling me this. You did well. You may go, now." Ozzie returned his attention to his food.
Howard looked down and shuffled his feet, but remained where he was.
"What is it, Howard? You want something?"
"No, Baas, I jus'…well, I worry 'bout Gerald. He in trouble?"
"No, Howard. A man's not responsible for what he says when he's drunk. Is he a good friend?"
"My brother, Baas. He mean no harm. Jus' be drunk. Thank you, Baas."
Howard nodded with respect as he backed away from the table. When Ozzie looked down at his plate again, Howard turned and left the rum shop. When he was gone, Ozzie motioned to the bodyguard.
"You know that man and his brother?"
"Yes, Ozzie."
"They are going to die."
"I understand, Ozzie."
"And people will see the bodies, and everyone will know that they died because they talked too much."
"I understand, Ozzie."
"I'm sure you do. Make it so, Samson."
"You want me to find the Cuban, too, Ozzie?"
"No need, Samson. I'm sure he's been sent to watch Big Jim. He's probably one of the new guards down at Baliceaux."
As Ozzie finished his roti, he pondered this new information. Big Jim had come to him for help with this kidnapping because he clearly didn't trust his new Cuban guards. Ozzie had picked up the same rumors that Paul Russo had heard in Miami, and Howard had confirmed it for him. Big Jim's days were numbered. Ozzie thought about how to gain the most advantage from this situation. He had already concluded that since he knew as much about the girl as Big Jim did, Big Jim added no value to the kidnapping. Ozzie had been wondering when and how to cut him out of the deal.
Now, he saw a way to continue to use Big Jim. If Big Jim kept asking questions about the girl, he would become the center of everyone's attention when the girl disappeared. He would be an excellent decoy if the girl's family sent this Phillip Davis to look for her again. Ozzie smiled. He would accelerate the program, because it was clear that time was short for Big Jim.
They needed to quickly find and capture this Danielle Marie Berger, and as soon as they had her, Ozzie would tell Big Jim about the cross-eyed Cuban. He might need to do a bit more to ensure that Big Jim ran at the right time. He would think about that. If all else failed, he could call Juan Camacho and tell him Big Jim was planning to bolt. That would cause Camacho's troops to move quickly, and he could be sure to arrange a leak to warn Big Jim, provoking him to run.
****
Vengeance was anchored just south of the Jolly Harbour entrance channel, poised for an early morning departure to Guadeloupe. Dani had taken care of the customs clearance late the previous afternoon, while Liz did a bit of last minute grocery shopping. They planned to behave as though they had charter guests aboard in order to get as much value as possible from the shakedown cruise. Dani would work on getting under way each morning as quietly as she could, allowing the imaginary guests to sleep in. Liz would prepare a sit-down breakfast after she provided whatever assistance was required for departure. When she had the meal ready, they would engage the autopilot and assume the role of pampered guests. Lunch would be served under way in a similar fashion, and Liz would prepare a three-course dinner with appetizers to be served when they reached the day's destination.
Neither had slept much. They were both keyed up and ready to begin their adventure, so they were sipping coffee in the cockpit, waiting impatiently for dawn.
"Okay," Dani said. "Sunrise is in five minutes. Let's do it, Liz!" She started the diesel and turned on the nav lights. Liz went forward to man the anchor windlass, and in a few minutes, they were making their way to the southwest to clear the shallows along the coast of Antigua. By the time Liz had the anchor stowed and the sails uncovered the sun was peeking over the hill, and they were in a comfortable 20 feet of water. The wind was a perfect, steady 15 knots from the east, and they soon had three sails drawing. Dani shut the engine off, and they were making eight knots, right on their desired course. They passed well to the west of Cade's Reef shortly after Dani secured the engine, and she saw Liz make the sign of the cross and bow her head.
"I was very lucky, Dani," she said, a moment later. "This was meant to be."
Dani nodded, her own thoughts running in a similar vein. "Fifty feet of waterline surely makes a difference," she said, changing the subject, looking down at the instruments. "I just saw over nine knots on that puff."
Liz smiled, thinking. "We need to adjust our plan, Dani. We'll have the anchor down in Deshaies before lunch, at this rate. We're not used to sailing so fast."
"You're right. Well, we can anchor and go ashore to clear in. We'll have a leisurely lunch on board, and maybe a nap. Then we can sail down to Pigeon Island to the Cousteau Park; it's only a couple of hours. We'll do a late afternoon snorkel and then have dinner and call it a day."
"Sounds glorious," Liz said, stretching like a cat as she settled into the cushions on the leeward cockpit seat.
****
Ozzie was seated at his desk again. He leaned forward, put his elbows on the desk, and clasped his hands, assuming an almost prayer-like posture. James and Zeke sat attentively, awaiting his pleasure.
"Kayak Spirit is in Antigua," Ozzie announced. "I just heard from my friend in the customs there. She's tied up in English Harbour."
"Is Davis there?" James asked.
"Better. He left, but he put our girl, Danielle Berger, on the paperwork as captain."
James and Zeke grinned. "You want we to go Antigua, Ozzie?" James asked. "Grab that gal quick?"
"I want you to go to Antigua and watch her. We've got a bit of other work to do, once we have her in our sights. It's not time to grab her just yet."
"Okay, Ozzie. We go."
****
Big Jim and his cousin, Gino Rodriguez, sat in the shade of an umbrella on Big Jim's poolside patio, talking over the remains of lunch. Gino had flown in last night from Caracas at Big Jim's request. He was staying in a rented villa just up the road from Big Jim's, so they were able to meet without José's scrutiny. Big Jim knew José was keeping an eye on him from Baliceaux, so he swept his house daily for bugs, just in case. His live-in maid and butler were Haitians, unconnected to the Cubans or the Venezuelans. He had no doubts about their loyalty, so he felt safe enough, at least from eavesdropping. He didn't think El Grupo had figured out enough about what he was doing to kill him just yet.
"Iago, you got a gift for finding trouble, yes?"
"Yeah, I guess I do, but I think we can come out good."
"I don' know. El Grupo is coming after you, and now you are dealing with that cholo, Johnston. Either one of them is like to kill you."
"El Grupo, for sure, they would kill me, but not yet, I think. They got that skinny shit, José, watchin', tryin' to figure what I'm doin'. Long as they're curious, I'm safe from them. Johnston's just a clown. Thinks he's big stuff, always actin' so cultured. He's just another piece-a-shit island dope dealer."
"So why you messin' with him, anyway?"
"He got pretty good connections up and down the islands. I got him workin' on findin' the girl. He thinks we're partners, gonna kidnap her and split the ransom, the dumb ass. Once he finds her, I want you and your boys to pick her up. I got Hernando hove to on Maximo, just out west over the horizon. You take your two best men, get aboard and wait for my word. We figure out where the girl is, you can launch one of the go-fast boats, the Donzis, and you and the boys can zip in, snatch her, and take her back to Maximo. Those Donzis, they good for 90 knots, so we can move fast. You will have her back on Maximo before anyone knows what happened."
"Yeah, Iago, but what about Johnston?"
; "You take the girl. I take care of Johnston's guys while they tryin' to take the girl. Then I give him a bunch of shit about what idiots he got workin' for him; mess up an easy snatch like that. I'll argue with him some, let him talk me into payin' something for his time and trouble. We call the girl's father for ransom. When it looks like José's gettin' ready to strike, you pick me up in the Donzi. We'll drop you back in Carenero, and me, I'll disappear, once we got the ransom."
"What about the girl?"
"What about her, Gino?"
"How you gonna let her go?"
"Why would I do that? Maybe you like her? Take her with you."
Gino shook his head, smiling.
Chapter 15
James and Zeke were walking along the waterfront in English Harbour, stopping every few paces to read the historical markers or make photographs. They blended well with the crowd of tourists who had been bussed in from the cruise ships in St. John. The yachts were all moored stern to the stone quay, so they had no problem reading the names as they ambled along. They stopped at Kayak Spirit.
James posed for a picture with the boat in the background, while Zeke studied it carefully through the viewfinder of his camera. He was perplexed; the boat was locked up and showed no signs of recent use; nothing loose in the cockpit, no extra shoes, no bucket, no towel hanging on the lifelines from someone's recent shower. He noticed most of the nearby vessels, even the ones that also had locks on their companionway hatches, showed some of those signs of occupancy. Kayak Spirit, in contrast, had nothing out of place. Zeke nodded at James, and they resumed their stroll.
"Where she is, you t'ink?" Zeke asked.
"Go to town, mebbe?" James replied, raising his eyebrows.
"No, mon. She gone. She leave somethin' if she comin' back. Mebbe forward hatch crack open some little bit, somethin'. We ax at the office 'bout she. They know, mebbe."
"How you gon' ax they, not cause worry, Zeke?"
"We go put on some work clothes. You see. Stay wit' me. I show you."
Bluewater Vengeance: Mystery and Adventure in the Caribbean (Bluewater Thrillers Book 2) Page 8