Square Snapper (Detective Inspector Burgess)

by Middleton, Deborah

  “How did you know?”

  “Just a hunch! Okay, let me call Dill and then I’ll go and see the kid.”

  They left Burgess’s office and went to their respective desks. Archie immediately got Detective Inspector Dill on the line. Dill filled him in on what he had heard from his officer at the insurance dinner and Archie then briefed him on the events at Burgess’s home.

  “How’re Buddy and his grandmother now?”

  “Buddy’s okay but his grandmother is in surgery. She got shot and then hit her head on the concrete when she fell.”

  “Oh, man. That’s awful.”

  “What do you plan to do with André Perinchief?” Archie changed the subject back to the matters at hand, aware that the momentum might have finally changed in their favour. He wanted action… and scalps.

  “We’ve had him under surveillance since last evening. It looks as if he’s planning to leave the island – apparently he bought a ticket to Miami – and if he makes a move, the airport police will get him and we’ll bring him in for questioning.

  “Can’t you just bring him in now?”

  “What we’re hoping is that he might lead us to his accomplices or even the boat, if it’s here. We’d like to have a look at that and get the Canadians and our forensics guys to go over it. Also, if he’s not the right person, we could have a problem on our hand as he’s well connected both socially and politically. I just wish we could find some link to him and Frenchie.”

  “I hear you. He’s got to slip up some time.”

  Archie and Dill said their goodbyes and hung up. Personally, Archie felt they were doing the wrong thing; to hell with hurt feelings and social embarrassment. He would have brought him in right now and given him one hell of a grilling. If he was behind the plot to kill his best friend, then he was going to live to regret it.

  Archie now decided to turn his attention to Bill. It was time to find out where he fit into all of this. He picked up his cell phone and keys to the unmarked police car and made his way over to the station on Parliament Street.

  Bill was in a small cell looking despondent and tired. His face lit up when Archie came into the room.

  “I knew you’d come.”

  “Just tell me what happened. I’m real busy.” Archie was deliberately brisk.

  “Well, I kept watch on the detective’s house. He made me his CI, you know, his ‘confidential informant’.”

  “Okay, and was it you who sent that warning letter a couple of days ago?”

  “Yeah. That was me, man.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “They were talking about it at de dog fights. There was a rumour that someone was bringing in a hit man to kill someone, either de detective or de Jamaican. Nobody knew which one, so I figured I’d stake de detective’s place out.”

  “Have you any idea how dangerous that was?”

  “No problem, man. I had it all under control. I saw dis guy, dressed up real cool, y’know, like one of those Ninjas you see in de movies. Well, I saw him go into de bushes so I vaited until he made his move. Then I threw (he pronounced it “shrew”) de rock with de note. I had made up two or three in case I missed de vindow, but I got it first go.” Evidently, Bill was proud of this; no doubt his perfect aim the product of his misspent youth. “When I saw de po-lice, I left but they caught me in Flatts. Is Mr. Burgess okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s okay. I think, crazy as you are, you may have actually helped to save his life.” Bill’s face was transformed. It positively shone. Archie wondered how much positive reinforcement the poor kid ever got.

  “Yeah I saw de lights go on upstairs and heard de dog barkin’ like crazy… but then I heard a lot of noise. That’s when I took off. Are they gonna lock me up?”

  “Yep, and throw away the key!” Archie waited a moment for that to sink in but the boy remained unfazed. Exhaling wearily he continued, “Nah, I think we might be able to put in a good word for you and let you off with a warning… but if we ever see you on a bike again before you’re sixteen…” He let the warning tail off. “Oh, and by the way, Bill?”

  “What?”

  “Fix that muffler.”

  Bill grinned. “Did I do okay, Detective?”

  “Yeah, you did great. Come with me.”

  He put his hand on Bill’s shoulder as he led him out of the holding cell. In Archie’s mind - although he’d never tell him – the kid was a hero. He suddenly felt in debt to the boy and understood why Buddy had chosen to find time for him.

  Chapter 50

  Gonzalez and Hofstein had taken up their positions outside Gecko’s Spanish style house. It was a lot more attractive than its owner and a lot grander than either of the detectives could ever afford. Another testament to the fact that crime paid. Gonzalez had opted to remain out in the front while Hofstein had gone around to the back. It was all on one level and through chinks in the curtains, they had seen lights in what they had surmised must be the living room.

  “Looks all quiet to me,” whispered Gonzalez into his cell phone which was on line to Hofstein.

  “Yeah, wait, a light has come on in the kitchen. I’m going to get closer for a peek. It could be Cujo but he looks a little different from that mug shot we’ve got.”

  “I’ve only seen the mug shots too, but I’m pretty sure I’d recognize him. Wait for me, I’ll come around the side and join you.”

  “Okay, but be careful.”

  “Goes without saying, amigo.”

  Gonzalez crouched low as he made his way along the perimeter of the garden where the bushes gave some cover. Suddenly, he froze. What was that noise? Drawing his revolver, he cautiously approached. He had to stifle a gasp. By the sulphur yellow glow of the street lamps he could just make out a mound swarming with flies. Then the smell assailed him. This was something he could immediately identify - the unmistakable stench of decaying flesh. The sound of Hofstein’s voice made him jump. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his cell phone with his free hand.

  “What’s up, Sebas? Where are you?”

  “Hof, you’re not going to believe this. Call for back up. I’ve just found the dog… and it’s dead.”

  “Jesus, that’s bad. Okay, stay put and hang up. I’ll make the call. Keep your phone on vibrate and I’ll call you back. The guy’s back in the living room, so no need to come back here.”

  “We’re going to need a warrant to go in.”

  Just as Gonzalez said this, a shot rang out. Both men froze and then their training kicked in.

  “No need for a warrant now. We have to go in.”

  “Okay, Hof, on my count, you go in the back and I’ll go from the side.”

  Gonzalez ran in a crouch towards the French doors at the side of the house, knowing he would not be able to breach the front door. He then counted to three, dropped his cell phone and, protecting his face with his arms, flung himself through the windows using his shoulder as a battering ram. He had already heard a crash of glass from the back of the house and knew that Hofstein had made it inside. Rolling on the floor, he regained his feet and moved as fast as he could into the living room. In the glare of the lights, his brain registered two things: First, Gecko, mouth taped, tied to a dining chair and shot through the back of the head and second, a man crouching behind an armchair pointing a gun straight where Hofstein would have to come in from the hallway. The sudden arrival of Gonzalez, however, had distracted him. Gonzalez had never been in this situation before and hesitated just a fraction of a second before pulling his trigger. That fraction enabled the man to take better aim at Gonzalez who feeling a searing pain in his neck, dropped to the floor like a rag doll as his knees buckled under him.

  Hofstein ducked around the corner of the hallway shooting the unknown man in the shoulder. Spinning sideways from the blow, the gunman again raised his weapon. Hofstein steadied himself and took aim. This time he managed to drop him with a shot to the chest. He ran over and kicked the gun away from his hand and rushed over to where Gonza
lez lay bleeding on the carpet. Oh God, he had never made the call for back up.

  Hofstein noted his partner’s blood soaking into the plush pile of the carpet and rushed into the kitchen where mercifully he found a clean kitchen towel. This he pressed to Gonzalez’s wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. His hands were shaking uncontrollably and it took him several seconds before he could pull his phone from his pocket and call for back up. He tried to keep the panic out of his voice as he uttered the words no member of the force ever wanted to say: “Officer down.” They said they were on their way and with a huge sense of relief he could already hear sirens. The neighbours must have made a call. Thank God.

  “Stay with me, Sebas. Don’t go leaving me here with this mess now. We’re a team. Stay with me.”

  Gonzalez looked pale and waxy. A film of sweat covered his face and, more alarmingly, his lips were turning the colour of a fresh bruise. He looked up at Hofstein as he knelt by his side, cradling his head. His eyes were unfocused and all he could muster was a gurgling sound.

  “Don’t waste your energy, man. Just stay with me. Don’t fall asleep. The ambulance will be here in no time. I can hear it now. Stay with me, friend. Stay with me.”

  Gonzalez was trying to say something. Hofstein leaned in closer.

  “Cujo,” he breathed.

  “Yeah, we got him, man. Cujo. You and me, we’re gonna break this case wide open. Just wait and see.”

  Hofstein was conscious that the sirens had stopped and the area outside the house was awash with flashing strobe lights. A couple of police officers stormed in with guns drawn. Hofstein identified himself and they then ran through the rooms, clearing the house. The Emergency Medical Technician strode in with his bag while other officers arrived on the scene. Hofstein let the medic take over and approached a red haired officer who appeared to be in charge.

  “The one over there is known as ‘Cujo’, a major drugs dealer and the one in the chair is Ramon Goicoechea. He used to deal for him until he turned informant. He refused our protection… and look where it got him.”

  “Okay, Detective. You stay with your partner and we’ll secure the crime scene. Already a couple of guys are on their way over to get your story. I’ll have to take your gun from you. You know the procedure. Don’t worry, doesn’t look particularly hard to piece together what went on and you should have it back in no time.”

  “I understand.”

  “Oh, and Detective, you ever shot anyone before?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “It happened to me once. It’s not a nice feeling. They’ll make you go to counselling. Believe me… it helps. Anyway, good luck. I hope your friend makes it. By getting rid of this guy, you’ve probably saved a lot of lives.”

  “I’ll hold on to that thought. Thanks.”

  Hofstein stayed with Gonzalez until they put him in the ambulance. By that time he was ready to make his verbal report to the officers who dealt with officer-related shootings. They told him that, as soon as the forensic evidence corroborated his version of the events, he would have his gun back.

  Hofstein went over to his car, noting for the first time Gonzalez’s blood on his clothes. His legs felt like rubber. He just felt numb and knew he was in shock. It took him several attempts before he could get the key into the ignition. He knew he would have to change before he went to the hospital but was frightened to put the car into gear. He was in no fit state to drive. What was he going to tell Gonzalez’s mother? He had better call her right away. He had never felt so helpless or so frightened in his life.

  Chapter 51

  Inspector Dill’s men were stationed outside Captain’s house when they noticed him loading the car with a couple of suitcases.

  “Looks like our boy is going on a trip.” The tall Narcotics agent was glad for a reason to move. His legs felt cramped in the unmarked police car and stakeouts were not his forte. If he could drive, it would loosen up his tight calf muscles.

  “Let’s see if it’s by boat or by plane. The airline ticket could have been a decoy for his wife… or us, if he thinks we’re on to him.” The senior of the two was equally anxious for action.

  They watched as the man started his car and backed out of his driveway. They waited for him to move further down the private estate road before following at a very discreet distance. After several minutes they continued down South Shore Road past the roundabout that would have taken them into Hamilton.

  “Looks like he’s giving town a miss. My guess he’s headed for the airport. I just can’t think offhand what flights are leaving right now. Normally, they go in the afternoon.”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’s leaving by boat. Please leave by boat.” The tall Narcotics officer made it sound like a plea.

  “Okay, let’s radio in our position and let Dill know. We need to alert the airport police just in case he’s headed that way.”

  They watched as Captain took South Shore Road all the way around to John Smith’s Beach, past Pink Beach Club and then were amazed as he missed the turn-off that would hook up with Harrington Sound Road and towards the airport. Instead, he continued on towards the exclusive enclave of Tucker’s Town.

  “Would you look at that? He’s not going to the airport… at least not yet. Do you think he’s meeting someone?”

  “Could be,” said his senior. “But, if he’s got a fancy boat like the Jamaican said, why not moor it over in Tucker’s Town? Maybe whoever has the mooring is the drug baron we’re looking for, or maybe he is the drug baron. We could hit the jackpot with this. Whatever you do, don’t lose him and don’t let him see us. There’s hardly any traffic now.” He picked up the radio and reported their position.

  Captain waved to the guard on duty at the gate and carried on through into the residential area of Tucker’s Town. This was where foreign billionaire politicians and international rock stars were unlikely neighbours, usually having nothing more in common than the size of their bank accounts. The two from the Narcotics Division had to drop back considerably as the road narrowed and wound around the various mansions with their private beaches. They saw the Captain make his way down the driveway of a particularly beautiful home on the water’s edge.

  “I’ll bet a month’s salary that house has a dock with a big boat tied up to it.” The tall officer was hard pressed to keep the excitement from his voice and his hands felt moist on the steering wheel.

  “Just slow down and park over here.” His partner indicated a turning off to the right where they could leave the car. “I think we need to get out and follow on foot. Radio in our position and let’s go and see what’s up.”

  They parked the car facing the direction in which they had come so they could leave in a hurry, if need be, and got out to continue their surveillance on foot. As the driver was securing the car, his partner made hand signals suggesting that they split up. He nodded his agreement and proceeded in the opposite direction, careful to keep his tall body as inconspicuous as possible. He came upon a path along the side of the house and there, sure enough, was a handsome, sleek Sunseeker motor cruiser tied up at the dock.

  “Wow,” he breathed. At that moment he caught sight of his superior on the other side of the garden that led down to a small beach. He waved to him so that he knew where he was and then crouched down in the hibiscus bushes to watch.

  Captain was in a panic. He checked the boat for provisions and water and then had a look at the extra fuel tank. He had enough to get him to North Carolina. All was in order. He put the key in the ignition and was gratified to hear the throaty roar of the engines, capable of a top speed of 28 knots, responding to his command. It was time to get out of here and the sooner the better. He wished he had a couple of crew with him – normally he sailed with a crew of five - but this time he would have to manage on his own. As he came around the side to untie the last of the lines, he stopped in his tracks when he saw two policemen bearing down on him. With no hesitation, he let go of the rope and vaulted up
to the bridge as fast as he could. This was the Bermuda Police. They would not have the weapons to stop him. He engaged the motor and shot forward as the taller of the two men, attempting to jump on board, missed and fell backwards into the water. If he had not been so scared, he would have laughed at the comedy of it. Shit, shit, shit, he raged, feeling the boat gather power and begin to ride up on a plane as he increased his speed. After a few minutes he was able to pass through a gap in the reefs and head out to sea.

  Dill’s man, soaking wet and nursing nothing more than a bruised ego, was back on shore with his partner. They radioed the Marine Police and Harbour Radio as to what had transpired. Now it was up to the local fishermen to radio in sightings and the Marine Police to give chase. How the police boat would be able to keep up with the Sunseeker was anybody’s guess. The senior of the two turned to his colleague who was wringing out his socks.

  “I guess we had better give the bad news to the Inspector. Let’s get back to the car and get you into some dry clothes.”

  The other Narcotics officer, feeling a complete failure followed him in silence. Their one shot at fame… and it had eluded them.

  Chapter 52

  Back in Cooper Ward, Burgess’s chest was heavily bandaged, alternatively throbbing and burning as the painkiller began to wear off. He was desperate to leave the hospital and get back to his desk. He felt completely out of the loop and worried sick about Nana. He had endured an interview with the superintendent and commissioner who had expressed their grave concern for him and his family and heaped praises upon him for “catching the perpetrator.” Was that a polite euphemism for “bludgeoning your assailant to death?” Burgess was still struggling with the fact he had killed the man with a fury he never knew he possessed. His damaged vocal chords made it difficult to talk and helped the interview to come to a close much sooner than would have been the norm - and he was grateful for that. Never had he heard the super mutter so many promises to the commissioner for things to be investigated “ay-sap”, or cleared up “ay-sap.” He wondered if he irritated the commissioner as much as he did everybody else. If so, the commissioner was too diplomatic to give any sign.