Later, in their search of the van before the wrecker truck that had been summoned was making its preparations to recover the vehicle, Ferogie took another look inside the van. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there was fresh blood on the inside of the vehicle, confirming without doubt that someone else besides the driver and the front seat female passenger had also been there and may also have been hurt. Whoever the person was, they had managed, for whatever reason to make a quick (and he suspected a painful) escape from the scene.
Ferogie then remembered receiving an alert on his unit’s way to the Villa fire requesting that all emergency services should report any traffic accidents to RSVGPF’s RTF unit and any persons involved therein. He surmised there was the possibility that the missing person might be someone the local police were looking for, so he decided to contact Gomez, an old friend from secondary school directly.
***
Lewis was an experienced criminal lawyer. He knew there were a lot of holes in his dad’s story. What they had been told by his dad did not add up. But what the hell, once his dad stuck to his story, Lewis and the rest of their family would have to accept it and move on, unless the police officers did not. To challenge his dad’s version of his absence minus any evidence to the contrary would be futile and unnecessary. Anyway, his reason for coming home had been achieved.
He and his sister had their dad back and a wife had her husband home again. He wanted to leave it at that.
***
Chief Superintendent Vickers had not shared with Mrs Lewis or her children what had been discussed in his earlier private discussion with Dr Lewis about the mislabelled, erroneous laboratory results. Dr Dawson had not been at fault. The results shared had not been Dr Lewis’, because of the mix-up at the laboratory where a mislabelling of samples and erroneous results had been provided. The results attached to the confidential medical records were therefore all incorrect for that unfortunate day. Such should never have happened, but it had. The laboratory could expect to be prosecuted by the affected doctors and individuals for its incompetence at some future time. The laboratory’s future would certainly be under a cloud.
Dr Lewis had fallen victim to what, the successful candidate in the US Presidential election of November 2016 had coined as ’fake news’.
Once Vickers told Dr Lewis that he had insisted that Dr Dawson reveal the (erroneous) blood test results that had been given to him at the Dawson Clinic on that Tuesday afternoon, Dr Lewis admitted that the news from Dr Dawson had indeed ‘set me off’.
“How could I go home and tell Betty whom I’ve been faithful to for all of the thirty-five years we’ve been married that I was HIV positive which would lead to my having the AIDS virus?” was his question.
Dr Lewis explained that he had felt the need to calm himself down and to think on his own after receiving the alarming news. He wanted to work out what and how he would tell his wife. His intention was to tell her the very Tuesday night. Shocked, embarrassed and frightened for his own well-being, he had stupidly decided to go for a drive up the west coast to think how this situation could have come to pass. Yes, he had even thought of taking his life, but as his life-long philosophy was to give everything time and that most issues eventually resolve themselves, usually in a positive way, he had dismissed that option.
Dr Lewis was now extremely glad he had not pulled that trigger, so to speak.
He had also explained to Vickers why he thought the blood test results might have been correct. He had given blood a few months earlier at a mobile blood collection facility to help a fellow Central Bank employee who had been involved in a car accident. In his ignorance, he wondered whether that process could have been faulty, e.g. if a contaminated needle had been used in the process and as a result, he had been infected in that way? Not being a medical doctor, his fears and imagination had run amok. These had led him to make bad decisions at the wrong time about the wrong thing last Tuesday night. He and his family had paid the price for those errors. He would forever chastise himself for not directly going home from Dr Dawson in the first instance! He was not thinking clearly at all back then.
The bright side of the situation was that he did not tell his wife a harrowing story. Thank God he had not. Now, in the calm, loving and comfortable arms of his family inside QEH, Dr Lewis was greatly relieved. Had the laboratory error not been made and passed onto him, none of what had transpired would ever have taken place. Six days and nights of uncertainty were over.
***
Power wondered why the van he was moving in have to get into an accident on a quiet Sunday night? As he was only hiding behind a two-foot hedge from which he was sure he would be discovered in any search of the immediate accident area, Power had decided to move further away once he could find a safer hiding place. Power knew rescuers would shortly come looking to assist the van’s injured passengers. Limping gingerly and keeping low, he started to move away from the hedge just as a small dog appeared and started to bark. Though the dog did not attack him, it continued to bark shrilly. This caused his already throbbing head, banged about during the van’s fall, to pound even more furiously. He looked around for a stick to defend himself from the dog in case it attacked him, but found none. His left hand was by now also hurting from the cut he’d gotten from broken glass inside the van when he’d made his escape.
Power decided to keep his eyes on the dog while continuing to move towards a wall that was no more than five feet tall just a few yards ahead of him. Once he got there, Power knew that he would find a way to get over the wall, leaving both the barking dog and his potential local rescuers behind. Power did not wish to meet anymore Vincentians tonight because he knew this would mean his having to tell Vincentian law enforcement officials what he knew about the accident. This in turn, by his voice alone, would give him away, showing up who he was. Power knew what that would mean, a speedy return for him to Barbados where a country facility named HMP Dodds, his least favourite place on the planet, would gladly welcome and accommodate him for a very long time to come.
The dog came closer. Power stopped in his tracks. How to shut up and distract this dog to reach and scale the wall was his next challenge. Typical for him, he quickly found a solution. He’d often heard that dogs will eat most things once it’s nicely presented to them. He would try to prove this belief.
Brotherman Delaney had given Power a third item as he had entered the van, a pack of thin but meaty sandwiches to eat on arrival at his destination. They were still in the waist pouch that he had strapped around his waist on leaving Delaney’s home.
“These will keep you till morning.”
Power was not going to use the gun Delaney had given him on this small dog. It was time to use his common sense. He quickly realised that giving the dog a couple of the meaty sandwiches to eat would stop his barking for a while and distract it from paying attention to him, allowing him sufficient time to cover the short distance required to reach and climb over the wall. The cuts on his forehead and left hand were hurting like hell, but had not hindered his thinking. Power was still focussed on achieving his ultimate goal of escape.
Power put his simple plan into action. He withdrew a couple of sandwiches from his pouch and threw them on the ground a few feet away from where he was standing. The dog continued to bark but did not move for a few seconds. Nor did Power. Then, tongue hanging out, the dog went for the sandwiches. As he did so, Power took the three steps he needed to reach the wall. Once there, he hopped onto an oil can about two feet high that stood beside the wall. Power hoped it was sturdy enough to support him. It was. He pulled himself up and over the remaining height of the wall. He did not know what was on the other side. Another dog, cactus plants? Lucky for him, he landed quietly on firm grass.
Twenty minutes after the accident, Power found himself walking down a secondary road heading back in the direction, he thought, of central Kingstown, away from the crash location. It was surprisingly quiet. He encountered no one. Only the occasional vehic
le passed him by.
Then Power had an idea.
***
Veronica Ash was returning home from an outdoor church revival meeting in central Kingstown when she saw something lying in the road. She was not sure what to make of what it was in the middle of the road. Her headlights picked up what she thought was an individual, was that a body? Her next thought was that this was probably the result of a hit and run accident. As Ash was close to her home, she slowed right down. Putting on her full beams, she thought yes, that’s someone hurt! As a practicing Christian, she felt compelled to assist the unfortunate soul. Stopping her car, she turned off the engine but left the headlights on. Before exiting the car, she remembered that her husband had always told her never stop, especially at night to pick up or help anyone that she did not know. Nevertheless, the Good Samaritan in her took over and so she walked over to the person lying in the road.
As she approached, she noticed the person make a slight movement with their right hand and a moaning noise. Frightened, but convinced that she had to help and do the right thing, Ash moved closer. As she started to bend over them, the person – a man, reached up and grabbed her arm. This action caused her to fall to the ground. She screamed in pain from the hard yank and the blow to her knee as she hit the roadway.
“Give me your car keys,” said the man in an unfamiliar accent. Later, she would recall that it sounded like a Barbadian. She knew this because one of her previous church pastors from fifteen years earlier had the same accent.
“In the car. Please don’t hurt me anymore,” said Ash.
“I won’t lady. I only want your vehicle,” responded Power.
With that, Power got into Ash’s car and drove off.
Ash realised she had made a mistake. Her mobile phone was in the front seat, so she could not even call her husband. She’d observed that the man who had hijacked her car had a cut in the middle of his forehead and another one on his left hand.
Thankfully, Ash was just five minutes away from her home when she had been hijacked. Still in shock, she was able to make it home on foot. There, she reported what had happened to her alarmed husband, who in turn promptly reported the incident to the RSVGPF.
There were six important things her husband was able report to the RSVGPF about the incident. First, the approximate time it had taken place. Second, where the incident had occurred. Third, what the man had looked like. Fourth, that the man had a Barbadian accent. Fifth, he had cuts – in the centre of his forehead and on his left hand. Six, he provided the make of vehicle and its licence number. This would help the RSVGPF in locating the vehicle once they started their search for it and its temporary occupant.
***
Leading fire officer Ferogie had asked to speak with Gomez when he had called in the accident and his suspicions to the FTC unit. Gomez was happy to hear the details. Having known each other from school days, their paths had since crossed many a time given their respective occupations.
Gomez was able to clarify some of Ferogie’s initial findings and suspicions. He had placed the call on speaker to enable both JJ and Sergeant Arnold to listen in on the conversation. All three men instantly grasped the substance of what Ferogie was suggesting about the possibility of a third person having been in the van at the time of the accident. The mention of the initials JP on the note found by Ferogie helped JJ to fix their thinking once this was thrown into the mix.
Less than an hour later, now having also seen the report on Ash’s incident, it became clear to both Gomez, Arnold and JJ that the man who had hijacked and taken Ash’s vehicle had almost certainly been Power. He was therefore not only dangerous, but also mobile. Thankfully, they had details of the vehicle and the general direction in which he had set off.
Central Kingstown.
Gomez decided that his RTF unit and supporting agencies needed to cut off Power at all points leading out of the Greater Kingstown area. Once they could do this quickly, their chances of capturing Power sometime tonight would be enhanced. Power might be on the move, but they were sure he had absolutely no idea where he was going. The three men agreed that given the circumstances, were any of them him, they would try to find someplace to hide out for the rest of the night and tomorrow, before trying to move on Monday night to somewhere far away from any built-up areas in the country.
Gomez badly wanted to recapture Power. He believed that this night was their best chance of doing so. He was also clear in his mind that Power’s recapture was unlikely to come without a fight of some kind. JJ even anticipated that the people who had been looking after Power since his arrival in St Vincent would by now have provided him with a weapon of some kind to defend himself should he be cornered by law enforcement authorities.
***
JJ left Gomez’s side, hoping to find a quiet room. There was none, so he found a vacant corner and typed out a brief but coded message to Colonel Burke on his secure BIB mini-computer about the almost certain sighting of Power. The reply he got was a seven-letter one. STABPWC.
JJ knew this meant… ‘Seek to Apprehend but Proceed with Care’.
JJ had always known that on this trip, his carefully secured and maintained ‘old faithful’ weapons might be needed. These were the Glock 19 and Sig-Sauer P226 weapons now in his backpack. He had carried them on any major assignment he had undertaken for several years. They offered good and reliable protection if he ever found himself in a firefight situation where their use could be crucial to securing BIB’s desired outcome in a particular situation.
Given that he was dealing with Power, the next few hours might require him having to use his weapons. Unless the Vincentians used theirs first!
***
Walford watched Phillips’ encore from his comfortable Incident Commander’s station high up in the Garfield Sobers Sports Complex.
From that vantage point, he had to admit that tonight’s concert experience had been an enjoyable one, if only because it had been free of any security problems. It was only left now for the patrons to leave the complex safely. His traffic officers would try and see to that.
***
Having visited the QEH and seen that Dr Lewis was none the worse for wear despite his near week-long ordeal, Moss resumed his hotel assignment. He worked through another two hotels before deciding to call it quits for the night. He would make an early start in the morning by tackling the final cluster of three hotels to complete his task. They were larger properties but located quite close to each other. A couple of hours work at most. One of them was sure to have what he was looking for.
He made the promised call to Vickers on his way home to Pearle.
“Do you want another two men with you in the morning?”
“No, I can handle it. Night, sir.”
“Good night, Byron.”
***
Power had driven around slowly for over an hour without having much of an idea where he was going. His head had continued to throb from the blow he had taken to his forehead where blood from the cut was trickling. So too, was the blood from his left arm.
Power pulled into a darkened ally. This was a woman’s car, so there had to be a first aid kit or some form of clothing or cloth somewhere in the vehicle that he could use to attempt to wipe away blood and stem the blood flow with. After a check of the back seat, Power found a skirt and a scarf. He also found a small first aid box under the front passenger’s seat.
Ten minutes later, Power thought to himself, That’s better. He had done his best to clean up the two wounds and stem the bleeding. Not knowing anyone that he could turn to for help in St Vincent besides Brotherman Delaney, he decided to use the woman’s phone he’d found in the front seat of her car to call him.
There was no answer from Delaney.
Frustrated and not certain of what his next move should be, Power had at first decided to hunker down in the car simply to think.
Then, once he’d worked out his next move, he’d get moving again. But not in the woman’s car. He realised th
at she would have reported the hijack to Vincentian police. Details of her car would have circulated, along with her description of him. He was sure these details would be all over the place soon, if they were not already.
Power knew he needed a new vehicle and fast. Thoughts of tiredness and sleep quickly disappeared as his survival instincts kicked in. He needed to get as far away as he could from St Vincent’s capital city as soon as possible. He’d then try to find a place to lie low on his own tomorrow well before daylight arrived if he could not reach Delaney during the night.
He tried Delaney’s number again. Still no answer.
***
Chapter Twenty-Five
Captured
MONDAY, 23 APRIL
Unknown to Power, Brotherman Delaney’s practice was only to answer his phone if he recognised the number or person’s name that showed up on his log. Delaney did not know anyone named Veronica, let alone a Veronica Ash. This was one of his most basic and sensible security default positions that he had implemented and followed for the past two years now.
Delaney did not answer his phone when Power had called the first time. Nor did he do so ten minutes later when Power had tried to reach him for a second time. Nor would he answer his phone the third and fourth time Power called.
Delaney did answer a call from a number he knew, that of the soft-spoken Vincentian who lived in Cane Garden.
Delaney was asked if he had heard about the accident that had occurred on Murray Road earlier that night. Delaney said he hadn’t. When Delaney was told that it had involved a van which had left the road and was now lying at the bottom of a steep precipice and at least one of its passengers had died – a male, this made Delaney literally sit up in the bed. What the hell had gone wrong? Was Power the dead male passenger? Possibly, because Delaney knew that the other male in the van had been the driver.
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