“Sorry you all had to cop that, JJ. Consider yourself lucky that it is Sunday morning,” said Gomez.
“Don’t worry! Back home, our police might have received a similar cussing out, especially if they had to leave without finding what or who they went into the district for with no arrests being made. Don’t think police are exactly the most-loved breed of persons across the Caribbean, no matter how good they are at what they do,” JJ said consolingly to Gomez.
“That, unfortunately is true, my friend. Some of these searches you get right, others you don’t. Let’s move onto our second village,” lamented Gomez. “It’s in another part of outer-Kingstown not far away.”
“Fine by me. Heard anything from search team #1 or #2 yet?” asked JJ.
“Not yet,” said Gomez as search team #3 set off for its second village destination.
***
Superintendent Barry Walford arrived at the Garfield Sobers Sports Complex around 11:40 a.m. He walked the entire outer area of the complex, taking note of the barricades that had been delivered overnight and were now appropriately placed in anticipation of patrons’ arrival well ahead of 6:00 p.m. when the doors would be opened to them. Now inside the complex, Walford walked around the facility to ensure that his security blueprint for the event was in place before settling himself into the seat he would occupy later that evening.
***
Huey had prepared a late and filling breakfast for Power and herself. Once they had eaten, they showered and dressed before proceeding to clean up the hut. They gathered up the items they wanted to take with them, placing these into their backpacks. They burnt anything they could that was left in a small metal bucket to destroy any evidence of them having been there over the past forty-eight hours.
They then relaxed for a short while by listening to the radio Huey had brought with her before departing the hut.
***
It had taken search team #1 close to one hour and fifteen minutes from their departing point at RTF HQ in Kingstown to reach its countryside destination. It was expected that search team #2 would have reached its destination around the same time.
***
Once back at Ilaro Court, Motby and Jackie had gone their separate ways. Jackie focussed on completing preparations for Sunday lunch in the kitchen, while Motby worked in his study on the paperwork he wanted to complete. Later that afternoon, Motby was scheduled to address his constituency’s monthly branch meeting. His intention was to wrap up that session by 6:30 p.m. before accompanying Jackie, Kimberley and Anton to the Leamore ‘LP’ Phillips concert. LP was the popular Canadian chart-topping pop, jazz, rhythm and blues recording artist/actress visiting Barbados, and performing later that evening.
***
Backpacks on, Power and Huey had headed down the hillside they had ascended, intent on being early for their pre-arranged 1:45 p.m. rendezvous. The pick-up point was deliberately different from where they had been dropped off nearly two days earlier. The Land Rover should be waiting for them.
Their projected fifty-minute downhill trek to their rendezvous took them longer than they had expected. It was made more treacherous due to a heavy downpour of rain that has taken place just before noon. Luckily, they had meet no one during their descent. The Land Rover was there. They were also fortunate not to meet any other vehicles on the minor roads until they re-joined the main highway leading them to a neighbourhood outside of Kingstown.
***
As it transpired, the scheduled 12:00 noon to 2:00 p.m. dress rehearsal performances for LP and her ‘warm-up’ acts, had gotten off to a late start. Walford had to wait until 1:00 p.m. before the dress rehearsals got underway because the various sound and instrument checks took much longer to perfect than was anticipated.
***
Having reached the designated area and after spending just over an hour searching for any signs of activity, search team #1 found nothing to suggest that anyone had been there recently. The heavy shower during the search of their designated countryside location had not been kind to them. It meant that the range of evidence they were seeking were no longer easy to identify and might not come into play.
Sergeant Arnold had started to report this to Gomez on his radio. Summing up search team #1’s position he stated, “Unfortunately, sir, our efforts have drawn a blank…”
He suddenly stopped speaking before continuing.
“Hello, what have we here? Hang on a minute, sir.”
Gomez waited. Not the most patient of men, he asked, “Casper, what’s happening? Talk to me, man.”
“Sir, we’ve just observed a washcloth. It’s not something I’d expect to see out here in this wilderness Perhaps someone or persons have been here recently after all. We’ll collect it and bring it back.”
While Arnold was speaking, Corporal Mitch Papos reached down to carefully pick up the washcloth on the end of his army-issued rifle. Right away he recognised the washcloth’s odour.
“I know this smell, Sergeant. It’s from a popular perfume I bought for my girlfriend three months ago,” said Papos.
“What’s happening, Casper?” again asked an impatient Gomez on his radio.
“Sir, I’m being told that the washcloth found has an identifiable female perfume smell. Even its recent soaking by rain has not removed the smell. We may have something, though I’m not quite sure what it amounts to.”
Papos flicked the washcloth over and motioned to Arnold. “Sir, the washcloth has the initials JH stitched into it. No other distinctive marks or stains that we can see. Looks pretty new too. We’ll bring it back with us to HQ and the lab people can try to get something more from it…” Arnold trailed off.
“I agree, Casper. What you have is better than drawing a complete blank. See you back at HQ.”
“Yes, sir,” responded Arnold.
Papos placed the washcloth into a clear plastic bag provided by Arnold from his pants pocket. He then took possession of the plastic bag. Once back in the vehicle, he removed a label from the cubbyhole of the vehicle and stuck it onto the plastic bag, marking it ‘Power case washcloth’. He also placed the location and date before signing his name, enabling search team #1 to commence its return journey to Kingstown.
***
Pilessar’s arrival in Barbados that afternoon went unnoticed.
She was just one of the many US nationals who arrived from the USA that afternoon for any of the following reasons: three days of work with their company’s local agent; attending that night’s Leamore ‘LP’ Phillips’ concert; watching the final days the intriguing Test Match; visiting to simply relax for a week in a different environment.
On her Barbados Immigration/Customs form, Pilessar had ticked the vacation box.
A friendly Immigration officer asked her, “What’s the purpose of your visit to Barbados, ma’am?”
Pilessar responded, “The big LP concert tonight.”
“How long will you be staying in our country?”
“Just one night.”
“Well, I’ll see you there perhaps,” the immigration officer responded with a smile, before returning her documents to her.
“Enjoy your stay, ma’am.”
“I certainly will.”
Pilessar could have filled in any of the other more appropriate boxes shown on the Immigration/Customs form e.g. Business, Visiting Friends/Relatives, Meeting, but she did not. Had she done so, she feared that an Immigration officer might have asked her further, more searching or different questions that she might have struggled to answer convincingly. Why take the chance that an officer might do so and have to tell a series of lies to cover up her real reason for visiting Barbados?
Damn right! Tell a good and simple lie, get officialdom to accept it, get in, complete your business and get out, especially if it could all be done within a twenty-four-hour period. This was how Pilessar intended to complete the business she’d come to Barbados for. By this time tomorrow, she expected to be checking in at the airport to leave Barbados on
the outgoing AA flight back to Miami.
Pilessar had also indicated that she would be staying at a Private Home on her Immigration/Customs form (she had inserted a fictitious friend and address in Plum Grove, Christ Church). She knew Immigration departments did not normally follow-up to check – she had learnt that much from her years of travelling around the world. The Caribbean would surely not be any different, she had thought and was right.
Once out of the Customs hall and GAIA’s Arrival terminal itself, Pilessar saw the ‘very tall, dark and handsome figure’ her host had told her to look for.
They exchanged courtesies before he took her pull-along. “My name is Benedict Shepherd. Did you have a good flight ma’am?” he enquired.
“Yes. Smooth. Uneventful,” was Pilessar’s response.
She accompanied Shepherd to the ticket machine where he paid the parking fee for his vehicle’s stay in the airport car park. He then led Pilessar to the vehicle where he placed her pull-along in the trunk before opening the front passenger door for her. Once she was inside, Shepherd walked around and sat down in the driver’s seat before turning on the engine and the air conditioning.
He spoke to her again. “I love welcoming visitors to Barbados ma’am. You will enjoy your stay here. I’ll get you to your host who’s about a forty-minute ride away, so please sit back, relax and enjoy the scenic journey.”
With that, Shepherd drove his vehicle towards the bank of airport car park exit booths. He inserted his parking card into the machine which gobbled it up as the barrier rose, allowing him to depart from the airport compound on a journey to the east coast of Barbados.
Pilessar appreciated that Shepherd did not say much during their journey. She was thinking about her forthcoming first face-to-face meeting with her budding Caribbean counterpart in crime. To Shepherd, Pilessar appeared to be enjoying the scenery as he drove.
On arrival at her destination, Pilessar hoped to have a late lunch, a good pina colada and an hour’s rest. Then, after a shower, she’d hope to thrash out most of the parameters around a future collaborative arrangement between their two organisations with her host which might even be initialled tonight. As she planned to depart tomorrow afternoon, Pilessar hoped to be able to see some more of this supposedly beautiful island before returning to the USA. The formal signing of the contract between their organisations could then wait for signature in Miami whenever her host could get there inconspicuously, most likely on their next professional visit.
***
Surprisingly, rehearsals ended earlier than Walford had expected at 2:30 p.m. The reason for this was that Phillips had abruptly decided to shorten her rehearsal in order to get a few extra hours’ sleep prior to taking the stage that evening.
Walford left the gymnasium complex thirty minutes later. He felt comfortable with the finalised security arrangements and reported this to Jeremie. The fact several VIPs were scheduled to attend tonight’s concert had made the lunchtime news broadcasts was of no concern to him. For security reasons, the attendance of the Prime Minister and his party of three was, up to this time only known to Jeremie, Walford, his deputy Incident Commander and Motby’s CPU team.
Walford planned to return to the complex by 5:45 p.m. Everything was set for tonight’s concert.
***
The news from Sergeant Arnold’s search party simultaneously disappointed and raised expectations. Getting anything from the washcloth would be a longshot, as the lab would be unavailable to them until tomorrow morning.
It turned out that search team #2, led by Corporal Conway, had drawn a blank from the countryside area it had visited. Gomez also instructed them to return to RTF HQ. As his search team #3 had also had no success from its visit to the two villages on the outskirts of Kingstown, he decided that it was also time for his team to return to RTF HQ.
Each search team’s expedition had been disappointing overall. Perhaps a good meal and a joint discussion by all three teams’ members would inspire some new thinking on how best to pursue, capture and repatriate Power to Barbados.
So, back to the drawing board, thought Gomez.
***
It took RBPF patrols longer than expected to find the vehicle decorated with a Garfield and a relevant school tie. It was parked down on Brandon’s, St Michael beach. Spotted by a uniformed RBPF patrol team, the reported sighting led to an unmarked RBPF vehicle quickly appearing on the scene to monitor who would return to the vehicle.
Meanwhile, a check with the BLA confirmed that the Subaru Impreza belonged to Mick and Lorburn Wayne of Scarsville, Christ Church. Were these Dr Lewis’ kidnappers and if so, where had they stashed him? What was his condition? If they were not, then they might be able to advise who such persons were.
***
The Live Sky Sports television interview with Hon. Preston Grant MP took place during the tea interval on Day 3 of the Test Match. It went off surprisingly well, without a hitch in fact. Perhaps this was due to the West Indies being in such a good position to win the match that Oswald King did not feel inclined to press Minister Grant too hard on anything, certainly not about the current state of the game.
Grant had been prepared and was determined to pivot away from any hard or contentious questions about the country’s security situation, or the missing CBOB Deputy Governor. His ‘go-to’ talking points were put across about the country’s forthcoming Tourism and Sporting Policy initiatives and to giving a ‘shout out’ on the forthcoming Commonwealth Sports Minister’s two-day conference which would start on Tuesday morning. The conference would be preceded by a reception on Monday evening. At the end of the interview, Grant reminded King that he and his visiting Sky Sports unit were invited to the reception. He’d be happy to speak with them again on camera then if they wanted.
***
Brotherman Delaney welcomed Power to his new interim location. Huey had exited the Land Rover and disappeared without saying a word to Power who would not see her again for another few hours.
“I hope Sister Jas managed to keep you out of harm’s way these past forty-eight hours?”
“She kept her and my head down alright. Now when can I move on to someplace more homely?”
“Glad to hear that. She’s a good girl. Now, we’ll take you to your new place soon, probably tomorrow night. You’ll then be there for a few days. It’ll not be as quiet as it was up in the hills, but you’ll be very comfortable. Just keep your head on, start to grow a beard or something so as to start altering your features. We’re close to figuring out where your final location will be,” Delaney said.
“Guess I’m in your hands,” responded Power.
“Yup. That bag of clothing is yours to use for the next couple of days. I’ll get you something to eat in a while and then, if I were you, I’d get some sleep… I’ve long known that an early night works wonders around here. Tomorrow you could spend the day relaxing and then we’ll get you a ride across town in the evening, probably near the end of rush hour. There’ll be a lot going on so no one will take notice of us moving then. That room there is yours while you’re here. In it is a solid bed and there’s a bathroom at the back.”
“Thank you, Brotherman.”
“No problem, Baje.”
***
An hour-long stakeout by RBPF officers in an unmarked vehicle finally bore fruit when two men, one looking slightly the worse for wear, approached the Subaru and were quickly approached by officers. They were startled by their approach.
“Mr Lorburn Wayne? Mr Mick Wayne? Can we have a word with both of you please?” asked an officer now standing close to the Subaru vehicle.
“Hey, who are you guys?” asked Mick Wayne.
“I’m Detective Philbert Fontain of the Royal Barbados Police Force and this is Detective Flynn Rice. Can we have a few words with both of you please?”
Hearing that, Lorburn Wayne took off, surprisingly heading back towards the beach and beyond that, the Caribbean Sea.
Detective Rice followed him. A form
er Barbados sprinter and still in his twenties, he easily caught up with the more-portly of the two Wayne brothers despite his attire and the heavy sand underfoot. Rice rugby-tackled Wayne, causing him to crash into the sand with a soft thud, bursting his bottom lip on impact.
“Why you running, sir? Now you gone and made me all sandy. These are clean clothes I put on today man and so my wife’s not going to be pleased with me. You’re in trouble with her and my superiors, know what I mean Mr Wayne?” asked an annoyed Rice.
“Bloody police! You caused me to burst my lip,” mumbled a frustrated Wayne, rubbing his bloodied mouth while spitting out some sand. “Anyway, I don’t know what you guys want to talk with me and Mick about. Tell your wife I’m sorry ’bout your clothes if you like,” he concluded angrily.
“That’s right Lorbee. Tell him nothing,” shouted Mick Wayne to his brother as Rice brought Lorburn Wayne to his feet.
“Nothing to tell, bro,” was Lorburn’s fighting response.
Mick Wayne turned and spoke directly to Fontain. “You’ve got something to say to me too, officer?” he asked.
“Yes. We’re taking both of you in for questioning at Central police station. I think you know very well what this is about,” he said authoritatively.
“What about our vehicle?” asked Mick Wayne.
“We’ll have someone stay with it until it can be collected by our people who will take it to Police HQ. Give us the key for the vehicle please,” answered Fontain.
“Man, you guys for real?” asked Lorburn Wayne.
“Mr Wayne, your vehicle keys please,” said Fontain for a second time.
“Come on fellas. Hand the keys over,” pleaded Rice.
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