Square Snapper (Detective Inspector Burgess)

by Middleton, Deborah

  Just as he was measuring the distance from his bed to the wardrobe, he heard Archie’s voice in the corridor outside. In he breezed with that dazzling smile.

  “I see you warrant police protection now. Is that to keep people out, or keep you in?”

  Burgess grinned and pointed to his voice box. It was still hard for him to speak and there was a ring of bruises around his neck growing more purple with each passing hour.

  “Funny you should say that, I was just plotting my escape.” It came out in a hoarse whisper.

  “How’re you feeling? I understand you had the superintendent here earlier. I hope you didn’t say anything under the influence of all those painkillers! Do we all still have a job?” Archie tried to keep his voice light but the sight of his friend’s injuries disturbed him.

  “I’m feeling better. Any news about Nana? She’s all I can think about.”

  “I left some flowers for her in the Intensive Care reception. Apparently, she’s resting comfortably and family will be able to visit her this evening. For your information, my name is now Archie Burgess, should anyone in ICU ask! Her ICU nurse is a smoker, so I took him some cigarettes… Okay, I know, I’m kissing up, but I have to see that old lady and give her a piece of my mind. What was she thinking ruining a good frying pan like that?”

  Burgess chuckled but it hurt. Archie was better than painkillers.

  “I’ve got some news for you, bro’.” Archie was suddenly in business mode. He sat in the easy chair next to Burgess’s bed and filled him in on all the details ending with the apprehension of Captain out on the high seas.

  “They sent a helicopter after him from one of the British navy ships berthed at Dockyard and he realized it was futile to keep going. Must have been the missiles attached to the helicopter that convinced him! They reckon he was making a bee-line for the U.S. mainland. Anyway, he’s now on his way back with his chopper escort. We’re running a check to see who owns the yacht. He’s scheduled to be interviewed when he gets in. Dill has asked me to be present so I can report back to you.”

  “That’s great. So this Captain guy is André Perinchief, Clayton Perinchief’s cousin?”

  “Yep. Oh, and by the way, you had a guardian angel.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “Bill, Deon’s cousin.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. He was the one that sent you the warning letter and… you’ll never guess what else.” Archie paused for dramatic effect.

  “What else?”

  “He staked out Nana’s place, saw the perp and threw a rock through Nana’s window with a warning taped to it. That’s what set off Officer Max and that’s how they heard the fight and came downstairs. When we went through Nana’s kitchen, we found the broken window and the rock still with the note around it.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Just: ‘he’s here’.”

  Burgess was amazed. “How did you find out it was him?” He wheezed.

  “He got caught speeding on a bike he shouldn’t have been riding. I managed to fix it with the Traffic guys. He’s one brave little dude, if you ask me. Probably saved your life.”

  Burgess lay back on his pillows and exhaled. He was so tired and yet this piece of news buoyed him.

  “There’s hope for that kid yet.”

  Archie nodded. “You’ve got that right. Want me to go? You look a little beat. I’ll come back later when you’ve had some sleep. I have to check in with the troops. They’re trying to find out who Ninja man was.”

  Burgess beckoned him closer. He tried to speak normally but his vocal chords just would not allow it. “He’s Russian or something; heavy accent.”

  “Okay, thanks, that’s helpful. We’ll look into that.” Archie patted his friend on the arm and left the room. Burgess could hear him talking to the officer outside. He felt drained. He just wanted to close his eyes and drift back to sleep. He shut his eyes and let his thoughts wander. That was some news about Bill. He owed that little guy.

  Chapter 53

  Fast as a California forest fire, news of the death of Cujo and Gonzalez’s shooting had spread through the different divisions of the Dade County Police Force. The Forensic Computer Lab was no exception and Aaron Jacobs, now more than ever, wanted to crack the code and give the detectives something tangible to work with. He fervently hoped that the big Hispanic detective pulled through. He had instantly liked the man, recognizing him as someone who was dedicated, hard working and whose approval you had to earn.

  He had written various programs to crack the code. He was certain he had the right book but everything had to be done twice – once for the original Spanish book and again for the English translation. It was painstaking work and he prayed that he might not miss any clue that would break the whole thing wide open. He needed to stay focused and alert. Thank God for the espresso machine. He planned to make good use of it again this evening. In the meantime his computers kept whirring and working as they searched to make sense of the encrypted e-mail transmissions.

  In another wing of the building, forensic scientists were comparing the bullets found in the bodies of Cujo and Ramon Goicoechea with those taken from the guns of Cujo, Hofstein and Gonzalez. They were still waiting for the bullet from Gonzalez to be sent over from the hospital after removal. News was that Gonzalez had survived the operation but was in intensive care.

  Hofstein was at the hospital with his wife, Susanna, and Gonzalez’s mother. They were in the waiting room of the intensive care unit and, even though Mrs. Gonzalez could only visit him for five minutes every hour, they could not bring themselves to leave her until her daughter arrived from New York. Gonzalez was her only son and Mrs. Gonzalez was beside herself, sitting anxiously, eyes shut, with a rosary entwined between her fingers as her lips moved in silent prayer. Hofstein was grateful for the chance to leave and go and pick up her daughter from the airport. He would then drop her at the hospital and head back to the station. Susanna would stay with the two women and lend her support. It was a plan he could live with and he desperately wanted to get back into action.

  Just then, the nurse appeared in the waiting room. “Detective, would you like to come this way?”

  Hofstein’s heart thumped. He followed her out.

  “Detective Gonzalez is awake. He was asking for you. You can go in – but only for five minutes. Don’t tire him out.”

  Hofstein entered the small darkened room. Gonzalez was hooked up to every machine imaginable. There were lines coming out of his neck, his hand and still more protruded from under the blankets. Hofstein had never seen anything like it and knew his friend was gravely ill. He walked over to the bed and tried to rearrange his features to mask the horror he felt inside.

  “How ya doing, amigo?” He knew his voice sounded forced but he had never been a good actor.

  Gonzalez looked up at him and attempted a smile.

  Suddenly, Hofstein found himself losing control. His voice caught in his throat as he tried to speak and then, to his horror, he completely broke down, sobbing uncontrollably in front of his partner. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” he blurted out. “I should have called for back up.”

  Hofstein’s outburst had clearly agitated Gonzalez and he watched as the injured man tried to moisten his lips with his tongue. The action sobered Hofstein who had to lean in close to hear him. In obvious pain, Gonzalez inhaled weakly and whispered, “Not your fault… just… get them.”

  With an effort, Hofstein managed to pull himself together and looked at his friend lying on the bed, his appearance so fragile, so different from his normal robust self. “You bet I will,” he vowed. “I have the entire Dade County Police working on this with me. They all want to get even with the people behind all of this. Get well soon, Sebas. You know it’s a lot less complicated – and a lot more fun - working just with you.”

  “Officer,” the nurse’s gentle voice came from behind him.

  “Yes, okay, nurse. I’m going now.”

/>   “Goodbye, friend, I’ll be back again soon.”

  Hofstein dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief and made his way directly to the men’s room. He needed to compose himself before he faced the two women in the waiting room and already felt embarrassed by his reaction to his colleague’s condition. He realized more than ever that he was emotionally strung out by the events of the past twelve hours. Yes, he would listen to the suggestion of that wise police officer at the scene of the shooting and go and talk to the police psychologist.

  Chapter 54

  It was all over the island that André Perinchief, alias Captain, was in custody. Narcotics were going to take the lead as far as his interview was concerned while Archie and De Souza would observe. An enormous sense of excitement percolated throughout the police force as news of his arrest became known. A crowd had gathered outside the police station as well as ZBF and the three newspapers. Johnny McCabe was pressing Archie for any special tips, seeing as he had assisted the police in trying to solve the case. He and his cameraman already had spectacular footage of the dramatic helicopter escort of the fabulous Sunseeker yacht into Dockyard. The police had hoped that by landing on the western tip of the island, there would be less media fanfare - but Johnny had his friends on the force and they were quite happy to tip him off as to this positive turn of events.

  News of the attack on Detective Inspector Burgess and his grandmother had already played out around the island. It was hard to keep a lid on that when both had been admitted to the hospital. What the police had managed to keep out of the official news was the fact that the attacker had been a hired assassin. For the moment, it was left to the islanders to speculate that the attack had come from someone within the local drugs underworld. There was, of course, much speculation as to whom the attacker had been.

  Once again, the island was roiling with rumour and intrigue. People who had radios in their offices were glued to them and, in turn, e-mailing friends and colleagues as to developments. The business sector practically came to a standstill, so preoccupied was it with the latest developments and the fact that now the cousin of the recently crowned Insurance Personality of the Year had been caught fleeing in that very man’s luxury yacht. The question everyone was asking was whether Clayton Perinchief himself was involved in the drugs trade – after all, that was a very expensive yacht. What a turn up for the books. Luckily, the latest show of the People’s Corner had already gone off air, having exhausted every angle of the Burgess attack but then again the next day was surely going to be another epic episode. Its host knew it would not take much to get everyone calling in on this latest turn of events. Tomorrow’s show would surely be raising the temperature of the islanders and, by extension, his ratings.

  For this evening, Johnny McCabe had booked interviews with the Minister of Finance and the head of the Bermuda Business Development Association for their comments on the Clayton Perinchief connection to the current turn of events. It would not be the first time this “double act” had had to pour oil on troubled waters when events threatened to harm the business reputation of the island. Johnny relished the opportunity to press them for their opinions and watch them as they jumped through hoops in an attempt to put their best spin on what was shaping up to become a most promising scandal.

  For his part, Captain had said nothing to the police. He had only asked to make one phone call. That had been to his cousin. The conversation has been short and sweet.

  “I’m in police custody.”

  “I know. I heard the news. I’ll get you a lawyer. Stay calm. Are you all right?”

  “So far, so good.”

  “Have you said anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Keep it that way.”

  As he hung up the phone, Clayton Perinchief surveyed his domain - his opulent office, the sweeping views of the harbour, his beloved mahogany partners’ desk. His cousin was in custody and his own boat had been sequestered. He could lose all of this, everything in a heartbeat and all because of that stupid, megalomaniac television evangelist. He felt the rage begin to build and burn inside his chest. What had possessed him, yes possessed that idiot to go into business with some South American who was poisoning the heroin? Had he gone mad? He needed to contact him and get to the bottom of it all. Somehow, there was something about the famous Reverend Wylie’s story that had not sat well with him. Why would a drug trafficker kill off his own market? It made absolutely no sense. No, it had to be something else. He did not believe that his friend’s Miami contact had tainted the heroin. It was more likely that the Reverend himself had done it to make some obscure point. For a while now, he had felt that his friend was becoming a little unhinged with all the money and power he was amassing. Could he be the culprit?

  “Goddammit.” His fist slammed down on his desk. He needed to engage in massive damage control if he was going to survive this. He picked up his phone to hire a lawyer for his cousin. He then needed to spend a few moments going over his contingency plan. He had always known that there was the possibility of exposure and he and his cousin had long ago worked out an escape. As long as his cousin said nothing and the assassin was dead, he was safe. He was certain that nothing could lead back to him. Now to ensure his cousin did not speak… For that, they already had drawn up a plan. He also needed to get his story straight for the hastily called Board of Directors meeting. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do but was confident that he could pull it off. It was just a question of his cousin adhering to an earlier promise made to one another… if one of them ever got caught then they would take the fall, while the other was to ensure that a million dollars went into a Cayman Islands account for every year spent in prison. He would need to remind his cousin of that promise and make provision to transfer a million dollars into the account right away. Knowing his cousin’s greed, that should serve as an incentive for him to keep the pact and maintain his silence. With a good lawyer, he might not serve much time anyway.

  Chapter 55

  Burgess had spent a few minutes with Nana and was now back in his hospital room. Despite all the sedatives, thoughts were ricocheting through his head. He was caught in a whirlwind of emotions regarding the events of the past twenty-four hours - a sense of overwhelming guilt for Nana’s injuries, recrimination for having been so naïve as regards the death threat, and pent-up frustration at being sidelined during a major break in the drugs case. He was struggling not to fall into a depression often associated with post traumatic stress and desperate to get back on his feet and into the fray.

  Turning on his radio to the People’s Corner, he sat back against the pillows to listen to the opinions of his fellow Bermudians. He was not sure whether this would uplift or depress him more, but it always helped to gauge the mood of the people on the street.

  What he heard alternately made him angry and smile. At least one thing was for sure, the police department was coming in for some well deserved praise for apprehending the man whom the public felt without question (or trial for that matter) was the infamous “drug baron”. Burgess felt almost sorry for the man they all called ‘Captain’. He noted that the famous cousin, Clayton Perinchief, was coming in for a slating as well. Why do people like to see the mighty fall? Nana, an expert on human nature, would be able to answer that one, of that he had no doubt.

  He looked up and smiled as Jacintha breezed into the room. She was a breath of fresh air. As always, when he saw her, his spirits lifted and his mood began to go north. Jacintha was great. He felt the need to let her know how he felt. Somehow, now that he had escaped death, his natural reticence regarding things emotional had disappeared. He switched off the radio and gave her his full attention.

  “Coming to see if you have another client for the morgue?” he rasped, his vocal chords still damaged from the throttling.

  She laughed. “No luck here, Buddy. You’re looking better every day. I’ve just come from seeing Nana. If I wear my white coat, then the nurses talk to me more easily. She’s gettin
g stronger and I reckon before long will be entertaining her entire Church – not to mention the press. She’s their new darling. Apparently, the switchboard has been quite tied up with people calling to ask how she’s doing.”

  “I bet, when she’s better, she’s going to love all the attention. You know what a character she is.” Burgess patted the side of his bed and Jacintha obliged by sitting close to him. Taking her delicate hand in his, he looked into her sparkling brown eyes, spontaneously pulled her towards him and kissed her soundly on the lips. Her lips were soft and pliant and, as she yielded to him he noticed she smelled of flowers. He could sense the rapid beating of her heart. It was intoxicating. “I’ve been meaning to do that for some time. I don’t know how I would have got through the past few days without you. Thank you for being there for me and for looking out for Nana.”

  Breathlessly, Jacintha pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “You both gave me quite a scare. I’m so glad that you are now out of the woods. Besides, it’s no fun jogging by myself and Officer Max has returned to duty.”