Hung Out to Dry

by Hadford Howell

  His secretary, Mary Jones was speaking with a young lady as he entered the office’s reception area.

  “Good morning to you both,” he said as he made his way on into his private office.

  Jones didn’t answer, but excused herself from the young lady and followed him into his office. She closed the door behind her, but was frowning.

  Dean Mercer noticed that she was uncomfortable. He tried to relax her.

  “Good morning again, Mary. What brings you in here so quickly after my arrival? Are you volunteering to preach in my place today? I’m happy to stand down…” he said with his usual broad smile.

  With a serious face, Jones replied, “Good morning, Dean. Sorry, you don’t get off that easy! You know that I’d only disappoint the congregation who come primarily to hear your sermon, so I don’t think I’d want to do so today or ever to be honest with you. I came in straight away because I’m very worried about the young lady you saw me with as you came in. She was here when I arrived at 10:45 a.m. and I’ve since spent at least thirty minutes with her,” said Jones.

  “What’s her problem?” asked Dean Mercer.

  “Well, she’s been crying…in between some cursing, telling me in a rambling sort of way about a bad relationship she’s involved in with an older man than herself. It’s gotten so bad, she says that she feels at her breaking point, close to doing something to harm herself before her boyfriend does the job for her. She says she’s desperate, and as a last resort, came here to see how the Church can help her. She’s asking for you.”

  “Phew! What’s her name? Is she from the Cathedral parish?”

  “Miss Betsy Hefton. She’s from St Andrew. She doesn’t go to church regularly anymore, but she was brought up as an Anglican, went to Sunday School until she was thirteen. She’s now twenty-two, doesn’t work, lives with the older guy who’s in his forties. She has no children. Can you spend some time with her please before the service, perhaps counsel her, sort of pep her up? I’ve given her a box juice from the fridge and my sandwich lunch because she said she hasn’t eaten since yesterday morning,” said Jones.

  “I’ve barely got time, Mary –”

  “Please Dean –”

  "Okay. That’s a lot to chew on, Mary. Wheel her in, but give me a minute before you do. She’ll have fifteen minutes max, before I’ll need to go robe for the service. If Miss Hefton wants to wait until after the service to speak further, I’m open to that but will have to leave here by 2:30 p.m. to go to a 3:00 p.m. funeral at St Cyprian’s.

  “Do me a favour? Call the Chairman of our Home Aware Committee. Fill him in on Miss Hefton. The Welfare Department’s Director too. Ask if and how they might best help her with a proper meal, overnight lodging, and other things that from what you’ve told me, she needs. Involve the resident beat RBPF officer too,” said Dean Mercer, fixing his so-called dog collar into place.

  “Thanks, Dean. I’ve already told her that she’s come to the right place for help,” said Jones.

  “That’s what we’re here for. I’ll try my best to help her build up faith and confidence in herself, our Church and the wider society. Putting a support structure around her should, I think be our goal.”

  “That’s great. Take your minute,” said Jones, leaving Dean Mercer alone.

  As usual, Dean Mercer had prepared his sermon the night before. His practice of looking it over one final time before the service started was not going to happen today. The arrangements for the service had been agreed two nights earlier in a meeting with the second priest on the Cathedral staff who was also designated to attend today’s service.

  There was a knock on his door, followed by the appearance of Jones, accompanied by Hefton.

  ***

  Colonel Burke’s second task for completion from the previous night was about to be implemented. It was a meeting with Dr Winston Peter Smith GCM, Cabinet Secretary and Head of the Barbados Public Service (HOPS). Under normal circumstances, the request from Colonel Burke for a meeting with HOPS would not have been accommodated within twenty-four hours of the request being made. Dr Smith was after all, a very busy and important official who was constantly in high demand. Such meetings would also normally take place at Government Headquarters and in Dr Smith’s office. However, at Colonel Burke’s specific request, the urgent nature and venue for today’s meeting was to be BIB HQ because of what Colonel Burke had indicated to Dr Smith was a ‘highly confidential matter’. He’d indicated to him that what he had to share was indeed sensitive and could not be properly facilitated at Government Headquarters. Dr Smith bought the explanation. He expected to see and hear other materials at BIB HQ’s secure facility.

  Their meeting started at 11:55 a.m., twenty-five minutes later than agreed. Why? Dr Smith had been asked to go and see Motby at 11:00 a.m. ostensibly on a pay-related issue related to the forthcoming Budget. Motby’s meeting had not lasted long, but it had delayed Dr Smith’s arrival at BIB HQ.

  On arrival, he was met in reception by Joe who introduced herself.

  “Hello. Yes, I know who you are and this is my second time at BIB HQ,” Dr Smith responded as they started the walk towards Colonel Burke’s office.

  “Do you like working here for BIB? I mean, it’s still quite a young agency,” Dr Smith said.

  “I enjoy my work, sir. It’s a fair place to work,” Joe opined.

  “I hear that regularly from the Prime Minister. He is very proud of the work you all do here, indeed the entire country is grateful to BIB’s ongoing efforts,” said Dr Smith conversationally.

  “Thank you, sir,” said a smiling Joe, knocking on Colonel Burke’s door. It was, half-open as usual.

  “Come on in. Thanks, Joe. Hello, Dr Smith. Welcome to BIB,” said Colonel Burke.

  “Nice to be here, Trevor. I was just telling your Miss Callendar how much I and the country, appreciate the work that your agency does. My apologies for being late, I got called in by the PM just as I was leaving.”

  “No problem, Dr Smith. We’re tough on the outside, but easy going on the inside here at BIB. Joe, close the door on your way out please.”

  “Yes, chief.” Joe exited Colonel Burke’s office, closing the door softly behind her.

  “Can I offer you something to drink? I’m having a coffee. You have a choice of soft drinks or something harder if you’d prefer.”

  “Water please.”

  A couple of minutes later, pleasantries over, they got down to the reason Dr Smith was at BIB HQ. He expected Colonel Burke to share sensitive information, perhaps some sort of restrictive briefing or a video on some new threat to the country? But that could not be it, because Jeremie, Tenton and Innis, the other security Heads in Barbados (the P.A.A.N.I. ‘lot’ as he privately referred to them) would also be here as would Holloway. What, therefore, was this all about? Perhaps it was to provide details of the proposed new security procedures that were being planned for implementation at the main air and sea ports in Barbados in another couple of months, once Cabinet had approved the procedures and after the existing law had been suitably amended in Parliament.

  ***

  Colonel Burke wasted no time in getting down to business.

  “Dr Smith, have you ever heard of Dr Sharon LeKasha Gladwell?”

  “Who hasn’t? But I’ve never met her, at least not that I can recall,” Dr Smith added carefully.

  “That’s interesting, because the much publicly maligned and un-loved CCTV system suggests that you’ve met with Dr Gladwell not once or twice, but on three occasions in the past fortnight and at different locations around Barbados.”

  “What’s your point, Trevor?” asked Dr Smith.

  “You’ve just told me that you’ve never met Dr Gladwell.”

  “No, I didn’t! I said that I could not recall meeting her. In my position, I obviously meet a lot of people in loads of places.”

  The two men stared at each other. Dr Smith did not believe Colonel Burke had anything on him. In fact, Dr Smith felt that if anything,
it was the other way around. Though he’d always said the right things about BIB, he’d never been a fan of the agency, of Colonel Burke, or his leadership of it if he was honest. If Colonel Burke had nothing else to discuss or to show him, then he’d be on his way back to Government Headquarters where he still had a lot of work to do today. It was clear that he would remember this his second BIB HQ visit.

  Colonel Burke knew he had Dr Smith thinking, so decided to push harder. Dr Smith was a clever and resourceful man. He was not going to be a walkover.

  Colonel Burke unlocked the drawer on the right-hand side of his desk and withdrew a leather folder. He took out a few pictures from the folder and passed them across the desk to Dr Smith, and waited for his reaction. There was silence, which prompted Colonel Burke to ask, “You were saying, Dr Smith?”

  More silence. Then, after an awkward moment, Dr Smith finally spoke.

  “Look, I can explain this, the…these photos!” he stuttered.

  “Go on then. Please, I’m listening,” encouraged Colonel Burke.

  “Well, a lot of Barbadians and visitors go to Oistins on Friday nights, other nights of the week too. I’m allowed to do so too. I didn’t recall actually speaking with the woman shown in the photo on this occasion if it is Dr Gladwell.”

  Colonel Burke decided to pass the entire folder over to Dr Smith. He watched Dr Smith’s reaction as he examined the various photographs of himself with Dr Gladwell. The first set of photographs featured Dr Smith in the large car park behind one of the fast food outlets in Oistins, on his own at first, then in seemingly animated conversation with a woman. The photographs were time and date-stamped (between 6:00 p.m. and 6:07 p.m. on Friday, 20 April). There was no doubt that the two persons shown were Dr Smith and Dr Gladwell. They obviously had not realised that they were standing directly across from a CCTV camera which had perfectly caught their profiles.

  Dr Smith now grasped how his clandestine meetings with Dr Gladwell had been captured. He had always sought to hold their meetings under the cover of darkness and at different locations. The Oistins meeting had been the shortest of the lot, with thousands of people all around them. He had also taken the precaution of dressing in such a way that even his closest staffers at Government Headquarters would not normally recognise him, unless they heard him speak in his customary distinctive voice. The more recent photographs of Dr Smith’s meetings with Dr Gladwell – greeting each other on the steps of her east coast home on Sunday evening, 22 April and just last night at a St James restaurant, all showed that they knew and were comfortable conversing with each other in different situations.

  “So, what does this prove, Colonel Burke? That I lied? That I have indeed met with Dr Gladwell on more than one occasion recently. Yes, I’ve visited her home. Come on man, what does this all say? I meet and dine or visit with all sorts of people as part of my public duties. That’s done for all sorts of reasons. It’s all legitimate and above board,” said Dr Smith.

  “Granted. I’ll not dispute your last point. But you can get away with most things with your staff, not with me, Dr Smith. Would you believe me if I told you that on each of the recent occasions that you’ve met with Dr Gladwell, I have a pretty good idea what you were both discussing, at least in part? It affects national security and in fact, might even border on treason,” stated Colonel Burke.

  “Rubbish. Prove it,” was Dr Smith’s arrogant response.

  “You really want me to do so? Right this minute? BIB’s equipment, when used in collaboration with our overseas friends, should convince you that I have all the evidence of what I speak. I can get additional evidence if I look carefully and long enough too. Your voice discussing –”

  “You’re bluffing, Colonel.”

  “I never bluff, Dr Smith. Let’s cut to the chase. I am authorised by the Prime Minister to request your resignation with immediate effect. If you don’t comply by end-of-day, you will be arrested and charged for breaking all sorts of public service rules. A good lawyer will surely add to the list of charges – collaboration with known criminals, treason too. Commissioner Jeremie will personally and publicly arrest you if you make us do so. We all know you well enough to understand that the latter would be more painful, not only for you, but for your mother and other relatives. If I were you, I’d think of the court appearances, newspaper coverage and infamy you’ll have to endure. You won’t get off in the courts with the amount of evidence I assure you that we have and are willing to produce to gain your conviction. We’re continuing to dig through your past as I speak to see what else you’ve been up to over the years. You’re a lucky boy in that we no longer hang people in Barbados, but you’re assured of a lengthy prison sentence instead if you choose the court route. Even with good behaviour, you’ll not get out before you’re an old man. I’m sure HMP Dodds will prove to be a most hospitable home.”

  Colonel Burke’s office was deadly quiet. For a black man, Dr Smith looked quite pale. He was contemplating his future, or lack thereof before conceding.

  “Jesus Christ! Shit, shit, shit.” He placed his head in his hands.

  “Alright, you win, Colonel. Where do I place my x? I suppose you already have something prepared for me to sign?”

  ***

  Colonel Burke recalled his earlier thought, You are entitled to your opinion and to pass judgment on what you see as the facts, but not to what the facts are. Now that he had his man where he wanted him, he turned that thought around. The facts are clear and indisputable, so your opinion doesn’t matter.

  Colonel Burke unlocked the drawer on the left-hand side of his desk. This time he pulled out an envelope. He passed it across the desk to Dr Smith. He also handed him one of the pens on his desk. Dr Smith opened the envelope. He withdrew and read his ‘letter of resignation.’ It had been prepared on his own official ‘Head of the Barbados Public Service’ letterhead and written in his style. The date was today, Wednesday, 2 May. Dr Smith read the letter for a second time before signing both the original and copy that was for his personal records. He pushed the original letter and envelope back across the desk to Colonel Burke.

  “What about my pension rights and my gratuity? Are they protected? Will I get what’s mine? Also, you’re certain that my resignation will be the end of this thing?” he asked uncertainly, knowing that he had no leg to stand on because he’d been found out and defeated.

  “Yes. I have been assured that both are the case. Whatever your entitlements are, you’ll get now that you’ve signed that letter. The reason presented to the public for your ‘early retirement’ is yours to decide and state. You’ve been in the HOPS job for what, five years I believe. I can only imagine what the stresses in that job must be like and how difficult some situations were for you at times. You’ll now have time to relax, travel or whatever. Going overseas to visit that cousin you have in South Africa for a while might not be a bad option –”

  “Alright. I get it! One last thing. Do I get to clear out my office, or have you or someone else already done that for me? Also, can I say goodbye to my staff, if not this afternoon, when?” asked Dr Smith.

  “You can clear your office yourself, but please do so this afternoon. Not doing so would raise suspicion about the real reason behind your departure. I’ve been authorised to facilitate assistance for you from a couple of Government Headquarters handymen who will help you. You can call your relatives now and announce your departure to staff on your return to Government Headquarters.”

  With that, their meeting was over.

  Colonel Burke stood up and walked towards his office door. Opening it, he signalled to Joe to come for Dr Smith. By the time she arrived, Dr Smith had not only regained his composure but was standing beside Colonel Burke. They shook hands firmly and formally, but did not exchange goodbyes.

  Joe duly escorted Dr Smith back down to BIB’s reception area and to his vehicle. They did not speak along the way. Colonel Burke, having closed his office door, immediately made a call on his secure line.

&n
bsp; “Hello.”

  “It’s done, Prime Minister. I have it.”

  “Problems?”

  “Thankfully no. Our bluff was not called.”

  “Thank you, Good job, Trevor.”

  “Thank you, Prime Minister.”

  Colonel Burke recalled that on more than one occasion he had told his twelve operatives that BIB is an ordinary Government Department whose operatives regularly do extra-ordinary things. That included himself. The belief and passion he had for his BIB operatives meshed nicely with the Spurs Motto.

  To Dare Is to Do. BIB had successfully done so again.

  ***

  The quiet arrest of Dr Sharon LeKasha Gladwell, prominent dentist and a latent top underworld figure at her dental surgery in St Michael later that afternoon was efficiently completed by Vickers, Moss, Colonel Burke, Fred and Joe.

  Dr Gladwell departed her office in police custody without any fuss, leaving her staff and patients somewhat dumbfounded. Two Bajan sayings or proverbs sprung to mind to Colonel Burke as she left. He was aware that Dr Gladwell’s formerly latently-known underworld dealings and activities had been exposed. ‘What you do in the dark will come out under light’ or ‘you can hide and buy land but you can’t hide and work it’. Both sayings meant that you cannot hide all of your actions or activities forever – at some point they will become known.

  RBPF officers asked Dr Gladwell’s staff and patients to leave the premises immediately, taking only their personal belongings. Officers then collected and took away into custody files, papers, computers, phones, contact books and anything else connected to Dr Gladwell’s office that might show up her widespread underworld and illegal business dealings, her otherwise ‘above-board’ dealings too. She was told that there was a simultaneous visit being paid to her residence on Barbados’ east coast, which would see the collection of similar materials and equipment. It transpired that most of the items found there were taken from the windowless room. DVDs of her residence’s archived CCTV surveillance cameras’ footage for the past three months were also recovered.