***
Coming up to 8:45 p.m. on this Sunday night, SBB&G was quiet. There was no big crowd in SBB&G. On his arrival and as was usual for a Sunday, Wharton decided there and then to close up early, no later than 10:30 p.m. Even the English cricket fans who had patronised the bar in great numbers since their arrival in Barbados from the previous Tuesday afternoon, were very few in number. He suspected that some of them were attending the LP concert and once that was over, they would either head for the nearest bar or return to their hotel for some overnight rest before attending Day 4 of the Test Match.
Nobby Kirton had called the other two members of their Pressure Group to SBB&G, so they were all waiting for Wharton. Once in the back room (his office), Wharton asked a staffer to bring in four Banks beers and not to disturb him afterwards.
A couple of minutes later, each with a beer in hand, Pressure Group members discussed Power’s last known potential location. Word on the street had reached them on Friday night that Power was no longer in Barbados, possibly in either St Lucia or St Vincent. Wharton had notified them late on Thursday afternoon that Power had left his house in Bathsheba, but where he had gone was unknown. News that Power might have left Barbados, possibly that same Thursday night, had not shocked them.
There had been no further updates, so they still did not know for sure where Power was tonight. Nor did Castille, Wharton told his fellow gang members.
Also, for law enforcement officers to visit this St Michael district where Power was known to have intermittently resided within the last ten years was not a surprise. The exact address was a house just two streets away from where Kirton lived. In fact, Power’s mother still lived there.
Once Kirton had left home, he had received a call from his neighbour that the police had been following up on a lead in their search for the missing CBOB Deputy Governor, now unaccounted for since the previous Tuesday night. The caller did not know if they had found him.
As it was now clear to Pressure Group members that the visit by law enforcement members to Kirton’s St Michael district had been nothing to do with him or their Wednesday morning ‘rescue’ of Power, Kirton felt the need to apologise to his gang colleagues for over-reacting. They understood and accepted his apology. Potential threat to themselves over, Pressure Group members now wanted to get away from SBB&G to get on with whatever plans they had for the remainder of their Sunday night.
Before they left, Wharton felt it necessary to remind them of his earlier admonition that they should continue as normal with their daily routines, he running SBB&G and Kirton as a self-employed tiler.
As for the other two gang members, Keith Lee (a handyman at a Bridgetown mall and relief/ part-time watchman at a private school on Thursday and Saturday nights) and Arnold Rowe (a former but now unemployed lorry driver with a major construction firm), they were to follow their usual routines of working (or not in Rowe’s case) each day. Wharton urged them, above all, not to ‘splash the cash’ that they had gained from Power’s rescue around. Everyone nodded. No mass spending would take place. Pressure Group members then left and went their separate ways, satisfied that they were all safe.
***
Castille was glad that he’d taken that walk after his meal. He had not heard from jolly man Wharton so would go and find him in the morning. There had to be something new and specific on Power’s whereabouts by then. If it was true that Power had gone to a neighbouring island, he’d expected Wharton to be able to confirm this and pinpoint which island he was on. Then he could book a flight, travel there, find Power and extract The Organisation’s funds from him. If the only way to solve the problem for The Organisation was to finish Power off, then he’d do that too. He needed to complete his assignment.
Castille eventually fell into a deep sleep, unaware that Moss was closing in on establishing that the room key card found inside Telford’s vehicle was from the south coast where Castille was staying at, and that it would be traced back to him by the RBPF.
***
Unknown to three members of the Pressure Group, one amongst them had not been exactly honest with his colleagues that evening. That member had already broken their agreement, though in his view, he hadn’t been on any mass spending spree. He’d only bought himself something that was much needed at home. Yes, he’d made a cash purchase, but who would know that? At SBB&G that night, this gang member had therefore maintained his silence, even after Wharton’s second request of them. Who was it that said ‘honesty among thieves, gang members or persons operating anywhere on the cusp of illegality, was guaranteed’? That person was wrong.
Looking back, that sojourn to Bridgetown and then Fontabelle three days earlier on Thursday, would be the tip that led law enforcement agencies to identify the first Pressure Group member. Once you had him, who were the other members of the gang and how soon could one get to them?
***
In St Vincent, Power’s departure from Delaney was delayed. Why was not explained to him.
They had already passed through central Kingstown safely and were heading to the other side of the city when the accident happened. Power was sitting in the back of the enclosed van as it travelled up the hill on Murray Road. Two motorcyclists were racing each other, travelling in the opposite direction to the van. They either did not see or could not make the adjustment to avoid hitting the van.
Both cycles smashed into the van head on which caused the van to careen out of control off the road, breaking through the concrete barrier and down a steep precipice. The van rolled repeatedly until it came to rest, twenty-five feet below the side of the road. One of the mangled motorcycles and its injured rider were also catapulted on an unexpected journey in a similar direction to the van. The second motorcyclist fared slightly better as he’d only been thrown on impact with the van from his motorcycle and now laid in a heap in the middle of the road. His broken motorbike was close by.
It was still early in St Vincent at 9:05 p.m. Vehicles following the van had witnessed the accident take place. Drivers stopped and rushed to try and lend assistance to those who had been hurt. These potential rescuers realised that safely getting down the steep precipice was going to be tricky.
As luck would have it, a St Vincent and the Grenadines Fire & Rescue Service (SVGFRS) vehicle on its way back to its central Kingstown base after putting out a fire at Villa, came along five minutes after the accident. It stopped and its occupants immediately proceeded to assist the Good Samaritan Vincentians who had stopped their vehicles to do their best to assist the unconscious motorcyclist in the road. His fellow motorcyclist was not visible.
As for those in the van, whoever they were, no one had yet reached them. SVGFRS to the rescue?
***
Walford enjoyed the first half of the LP-headlined concert. The ‘warm-up’ Barbadian artists had delighted the large crowd with their performances. No security issues so far, he thought gratefully.
Following a twenty-minute interval when the stage was re-set for Leamore ‘LP’ Phillips’, Canada’s most popular international singing star and actress, the house lights dimmed as an off-stage announcer spoke from the darkened stage to introduce Phillips’ ninety-minute performance.
The audience went wild, screaming, shouting and clapping as LP came on stage. Phillips was handed a microphone as she greeted the crowd. Her band kicked in and Phillips launched into her latest worldwide hit from six months earlier called ‘Let’s Ride’.
***
Having worked his way down to the area where the badly damaged van now stood, Leading Fire Officer Maxwell Ferogie, officer-in-charge of the SVGFRS unit, found two persons.
One, a female was strapped into the front passenger’s seat of the van. Her seatbelt had kept her in position. A man, most likely the driver, lay a few yards from where the van had come to a rest. Ferogie surmised that the man might not have been wearing his seatbelt at the time of the collision and had therefore been thrown through the van’s windshield on one of its impacts with the grou
nd. Ferogie felt for a pulse. There was none.
Jasmine Sister Jas Huey was the female passenger. Forty-five minutes after the accident had taken place, she had been recovered and was on her way to the Kingstown General Hospital. She was in bad shape, with a broken right leg, broken right arm, at least two broken ribs, a busted jaw and had lost her front teeth. She was in great pain, slipping into and out of consciousness and so understandably had not been able to answer any questions about the accident or who else may have also been in the van besides the herself and the driver.
Ferogie’s quick search of the vehicle found a bag of clothes, men’s clothing. He also found a note in the glove compartment. Both items suggested that there had at least been one other person in the van at some time during its journey. Had this person been in the van when it had gone off the road?
The piece of plain white paper had an address written on it and a message… “JP to ask for Cedric on arrival.”
Ferogie wondered who JP was? Might this note have any significance to the crash?
His instinct told him that it did, but he could not immediately work out how it might have. The address was familiar to him. It was thought to be a safe place, a ‘recovery house’ where recent Vincentian drug addicts could go to for help. The facility was run by one of the island’s charities and was located within sight of the old Arnos Vale airport. Ferogie knew the charity to do good work because it had assisted his nephew a couple of years ago when he had gone there a few times for psychological treatment as part of his efforts to beat his drug habit. The initials on the paper meant nothing to Ferogie. Why should they?
***
Power had watched as the rescue effort commenced and then intensified.
He knew that he’d been lucky to survive the crash. He had been wearing his seatbelt and was sitting in one of the back seats in the van. When the motorcycles had crashed into the van, the back door had been flung open. The fall down the precipice was quick. Along with the impacts as the van rolled over on its way to the bottom of the drop, the impact on each occasion seemed harder and harder but Power had managed to remain calm. Once the van came to a complete stop, he’d disengage himself from his seatbelt (it still worked, despite the several jolts it had received) and quickly crawled away. The van’s contents had been thrown around. Indeed, Power had felt during the fall like he was in a tumble dryer machine. He could still see the crash location from his hiding spot. Huey remained strapped in the van’s front passenger’s seat, but he could not see the van’s driver. He assumed that he had been thrown through the windscreen at some point during the fall down the precipice. Trying to help either of his fellow passengers would only get him recaptured, something he could not afford, hence his focus remained purely on escaping.
***
Dr Lewis looked up when the door of one of the examination rooms in the inner sanctum of the Accident & Emergency wing of QEH opened, ushering in a junior doctor, his wife, son, daughter and Prescod to set eyes on him for the first time in six days. Vickers, Moss, Dr Ronald ‘Ron’ Hayes, QEH’s Chief of Surgery and a nurse were already with Dr Lewis.
“Hi folks. What are you two kids doing in Barbados?” asked Dr Albert Lewis, trying hard to smile.
“Dad, it’s good to see you. You went AWOL so had Mum and the two of us very worried. How come we couldn’t find you for the past few days?”
Surprisingly, it was not Lewis-Greenidge who was speaking, but Lewis.
Mrs Lewis jumped in with her own questions before Dr Lewis could answer his son. “How you doing, Al? Have you been eating? How do you feel right now?”
“Look, let me again apologise up-front for the mis-steps which have resulted in my absence from you in recent days. I did a stupid thing after leaving work early on Tuesday afternoon. As I’ve already told the RBPF officers here, I returned to a doctor that afternoon to get something further for the bad cough Mum knows I’d had for a few days prior. That in itself was not a stupid thing to do. What I did next was though. On leaving the doctor, I felt like taking a drive up the west coast.”
“Dad, I don’t understand why you didn’t just go straight home.” It was Lewis-Greenidge being her usual blunt self.
“I ah…wanted a drive up the west coast. I also felt the need to have a stiff drink and so stopped off at a bar for one. It felt good to do so at the time, but I soon realised that I shouldn’t have had done that, given the medication I had been taking earlier.”
Lewis-Greenidge jumped in again. “Dad, that’s not like you. Surely –”
“I know Caroline. It was stupid of me all around. Anyway, can I finish telling you what happened? Please?”
Everyone watched him but no one answered, so Dr Lewis continued his intentional monologue.
“Right. As I was saying I felt sleepy after the drink, so went to the car to sleep it off. A couple of hours must have passed before I woke up and caught myself –”
“What happened then?” asked Lewis impatiently.
“I was hungry. I also had an urge to listen to some music. You all know what I like, the back in time stuff. I’d heard about a club in St Lawrence Gap where that kind of music is played on Monday and Tuesday nights, so I went in search of it. There was no place to park though it was still early in the evening, but one of the craft vendors directed me to a spot and pointed out the club. I went in, had a meal and a soft drink before leaving around minutes to ten to come home. The music played was good. As I approached my car, I noticed that I had a flat tyre. A couple of guys offered to help me put on the spare. I thanked them. They asked me to drop them in Kendall Hill. I didn’t object since they’d helped me and it was all on my way home.”
“Dad, why were you so trusting? I’d never do that in the States,” injected Lewis-Greenidge.
“Yes. You’re right. Anyway, I was told where to drop them off. As I did so, I felt a blow to the back of my head. I blacked out. When I came to, I realised that I was in the boot of my own vehicle, going where I did not know. I was subsequently moved around in different vehicles and from house to house until the police found me… I still don’t know where my vehicle is.”
“I can confirm that the Force has not found Dr Lewis’ vehicle to date, but will continue looking for it,” stated Vickers.
“That’s some story, Dad. We wondered if someone had kidnapped you for money, but never called us with a ransom demand,” said Lewis.
“Trust me, those two guys wanted more than a ride home. Robbing me was probably their goal all along, but as they did not get much money from me that night, I suspect they got confused and ended up kidnapping me. As that wasn’t planned, they obviously forgot to demand a ransom. Stranger things have happened, eh? How a criminal’s mind works I’ll never know. The guys never failed to feed me, nor did they do me any harm. They even gave me ice to put on the bump on my head from Tuesday night through Wednesday. Yes, my dignity’s been hurt. I’ve embarrassed the Bank, my family. Overall, I realise I’ve been stupid and can only sincerely apologise to everyone for my behaviour,” concluded Dr Lewis.
Dr Hayes chimed in, seeking to break up this confession story. He needed to get home after a long day.
“I don’t want to spoil this reunion Dr Lewis, but I want your family to know that we’ve checked you over. Except for having the back-end of a bad cold, you’re physically well and mentally alert. The swelling from the bump you indicated you’d received to the back of your head has disappeared. There’s nothing more that we can do for you tonight. I recommend plenty of rest and generous intakes of liquid over the next seventy-two hours. A full recovery is projected for you sir. I’ve prescribed some medication for you to help clear up the remnants of your cold and to help speed your recovery. You’ll be free to return to work thereafter.”
“Thanks, Doctor,” said Mrs Lewis.
“Prior to your arrival, we’d arranged a private bed for you to stay overnight for observation, but since we’ve now determined otherwise, I’ll authorise your release in care of your wife o
n my way out. Dr Lewis, here’s my card if you or your wife need to contact me for anything further,” said Dr Hayes.
He handed Mrs Lewis one of his business cards, nodded at Vickers and Moss and headed for the door to leave the room. “Night, folks,” were Dr Hayes’ parting words. The nurse followed him.
“I’d better be going too. I still have a few more visits to make tonight,” said Moss.
“Byron, can you fit them all in tonight?” asked Vickers.
“I doubt it, sir. I plan to work up to 11:00 p.m. and then make an early start tomorrow. All being equal, I expect to be done by 9:00 a.m.,” responded Moss.
“Fine. Good luck, but call me once you’ve knocked off tonight.”
“I’ll do that, sir. Bye everyone.”
With that, Moss also departed, leaving the Lewis family alone with Vickers in the A&E room.
“Last week’s all behind us now dear. We’re all so glad to have you back with us,” said Mrs Lewis, unabashedly hugging her husband before kissing him on both sides of his face.
“I’ll call home to tell Jack and the kids that you are safe, Dad. Excuse me for a few minutes please,” said Lewis-Greenidge, hustling out of the room as an orderly arrived with a wheelchair to help Dr Lewis with leaving QEH’s premises.
“We’ve brought some clean clothes for you. Do you want to change before we leave this place?” asked Lewis.
“No, Bertie. Let’s just get out of here,” was Mrs Lewis prompt response.
***
Ferogie spoke with his two colleagues who had joined him at the crash location where the van now rested. They started to search for a third person who might have also been thrown from the van and could be lying around, badly injured. They might have missed he or she in their rush to get to those in the van in the originally poorly-lit area. Using the lights on their helmets, they searched more carefully. No one else was there, lying around or otherwise.
Hung Out to Dry Page 38