by John Molloy
“It’s certainly impressive from here. Come on and we’ll try the food.”
The bar was beautifully laid out and the very cold beers refreshing. They then retired to the restaurant where they were served fresh sea food and calorie loaded deserts. Despite the swish surroundings, they were both tense, and the conversation was restricted to their chance discovery of the hotel, the prospect of Henry finding his son and what lay in store for them over the coming days. After spending another hour in the bar trying numb the nervousness that had enveloped them both, they decided they had done enough for one day and would shortly head back to the yacht. While Henry was in the restroom, Kerstin spoke to the head barman. “Could you please tell me how to get to the Captain’s Beach Hotel?”
“It is about two miles south of here, down the coast road, have you got a car?”
“No, we just arrived on a yacht.”
“You had better take a taxi. I will call one for you.”
“Not tonight thanks, we’ll go there tomorrow.”
Henry came back into the bar; his unsteady walk was a sure sign that he’d had more than enough alcohol.
Kerstin held his arm and turned to the door. “I asked the barman about the Captain’s Beach Hotel and he told me it’s a short taxi ride from here down the coast road. So we’ll head there in the morning.”
It was late when they started out from the Amber Witch as both had slept a bit longer than normal. With Henry in his full disguise, they hired a taxi just up from the pier where they were moored. It was a short run down the coast to the very opulent hotel situated on a hill overlooking the beach, with views to the islands of Mustique and Bequia. The grounds were adorned with tropical flowering trees and shrubs, and the lawns were immaculately manicured. The imposing entrance had carved hardwood doors. Trying her best to act calm, Kerstin picked up a brochure of the hotel from the lobby and they chose a table by the window in the coffee lounge away from where the other guests were seated. They ordered coffee and a few minutes’ later the waitress came back with their drinks
Kerstin sipped her coffee and furtively glanced over to the lobby area. Henry was facing her and couldn’t see the activity of customers and staff coming and going. She leafed through the brochure and partly in jest Henry asked if she was thinking of booking a room.
“Why not?” she replied, somewhat indignantly,” it might be the best way to keep tabs on him without causing suspicion.”
“I don’t like it, but you could be right,” was Henry’s unconvincing response.
The second page of the brochure listed the staff. The manager’s name caught her attention. “Look here Henry,” she pointed to the manager’s name. “Could it possibly be?” Kerstin had never heard his surname but the first name jumped out at her: ‘Juan Pereira, manager.’
Henry’s hands were trembling as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He held the glasses in his hands and looked at the leaflet again. “That’s his name… Good grief Kerstin, could this be true?”
She reached across and held his trembling hands. “This has to be true and he’s somewhere close so be prepared. You might even recognize him when you see him, but you don’t want to reveal who you are just yet.”
“Yes I realize that, it’s just so remarkable who he’s working for. This is this going to complicate things even further.”
“Come on Henry, we better go for a walk, we have a lot to discuss.”
They left the hotel and went down to the white sandy beach, neither spoke until they reached the water’s edge. Henry broke the silence. “First we will have to confirm he is who we think he is, but presuming he is my son, what course of action can we take?”
Kerstin blinked as she looked at the sun reflecting off the dappled water. She thought for a minute before turning to Henry. “It’s a real dilemma for sure, but if Juan could only be reunited with you without compromising our business with Tukola, that would be good,” however, she added cautiously, “it’s unlikely we can achieve this.”
“As always, I think you are right, it will be nearly impossible.”
“I know you’re not going to like it Henry, but I’m going to spend some time in the hotel on my own and do some discreet investigating until we have a more complete picture of Juan and also what role Tukola takes in the running of the hotel.”
“No, I’m not at all keen on that, but a lone woman would probably be more effective than a man with a not totally convincing disguise.
Back at the hotel they ordered a taxi and headed straight back to the yacht. Kerstin packed a large overnight bag ready for the following day. “I’m going to have to act like any tourist so I better bring my bikini and sunshades.”
The next morning Henry was very uneasy about her going alone, but he knew this was the only way to get information on Tukola.
“How are we I going to stay in touch without raising suspicion,” Kerstin enquired. Then she answered her own question, “I know, I’ll come in to meet you each day and report what I’ve found out. I think that would be our safest route.”
Henry had her bag ready to take out. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll meet you at Basil’s Bar, say from noon on. If anything untoward should happen while you’re at the hotel, which hopefully will not, you should phone Basil’s. I’ll make sure the members of staff know that the yacht is only a short distance away and I’ll ask them relay any messages to me.”
They walked onto the pier and found a waiting taxi. “Right,” she gave his hand a squeeze, “see you tomorrow.”
Henry tried to wile away the time reading a new Wilbur Smith book. He started but hadn’t got past the first chapter. He couldn’t get Kerstin out of his mind, but then he calmed himself and brought everything into perspective that she was in no immediate danger; as far as Tukola was concerned she was just another tourist, and too old to be of interest to him as potential prey.
Kerstin booked in for three days and got a spacious room on the third floor with spectacular views out over the Caribbean. She spent some time reading a magazine under a sunshade in the rather enclosed garden of flower laden urns and blooms. A waiter came and polishing his silver tray asked if she wanted any refreshment. She ordered the house special, a ‘Moon Beam Cocktail’ she had seen some other guests order. He brought her a hollowed out pineapple with a mixture of rum and lime juice, chilled in crushed ice with a straw. Kerstin felt she never tasted anything so refreshingly delicious in her life; she checked herself after the second one and thought how she could become a fan of this.
Just as she finishing the last drops, a well-dressed man appeared from the lounge door. As he got nearer Kerstin could see from his remarkable likeness to Henry that this was Juan.
Noticing her somewhat transfixed expression, Juan came to her table and bending over to speak to her he asked, “Is everything to your satisfaction madam?”
“Yes, I would like to compliment you on the wonderful room and the service was more than I expected, also this garden is so enchanting as to be unreal.” As she finished speaking, she silently admonished herself for her clumsy response which she put down to the effects of the rum.
“The owner must take credit for the landscaping and the layout of the gardens; it’s his pride and joy and he often sits here sipping a cocktail enjoying his creation.”
“In case you didn’t notice my badge, I am the manager, Juan Pereira. Pleased to meet you madam.”
“You can call me Kerstin. I’m staying for a few days of rest and relaxation.
“Ok, Kerstin, may I sit here. I’m always happy to talk to our guests. Their opinions of the hotel help us improve our service.”
“But of course.” The resemblance was so striking; she could have been speaking to Henry when he was in his forties. He had almost the same eyes but a soft gray not the intense blue of his father and the same warm smile. The fair hair was parted the same and generously covered the shapely head crowning a very handsome face.
“The gardens and hotel are a credit to the owne
r, and of course you and all the staff. What is the owner’s name,” she asked, and again admonished herself for taking things too fast.
“Mr. Hadar Tukola. If you are here when he comes round, I’ll introduce you to him, he’s a very affable man.”
“That would be nice,” she said, trying not to gag.
“You have quite a command of the English language, but obviously you are not English.”
“No, I am Cuban, but haven’t been back there since I was a child. I still have some relatives there but it is a disturbed country and if I went back I might not get out again so easily. You see my mother left illegally when I was very small. You remind me especially your blonde hair of my late wife Lilja she was Finnish.”
“Did you say your late wife?”
“Yes, I did and she was so beautiful. She was lost three months ago while diving near a small rocky islet called Milligan Cay. She and a work companion were both lost; their bodies were never found.”
“I am so sorry, please accept my sincere condolences. I can see how much of a loss it’s been.”
Juan could barely conceal his emotions and as he turned away clearly upset the raw pain was still very much to the fore. “You must excuse me but I still get upset speaking about her. She worked in the island’s customs service. We have a teenage daughter, Annabel. “Oh look,” he said pointing to a pretty blonde girl, here she is now.”
She came bouncing across the lawn like a gazelle, her blonde hair cascading around her face and neck. She stopped a little out of breath and spoke to her father. “Mr. Tukola is in the lounge and wants to speak to you.”
“Excuse us please,” Annabel said to Kerstin then she put her arm inside her fathers and ushered him back across the lawn as he bade Kerstin farewell.
Kerstin wanted to see their main target Tukola, so she took herself back inside and sat at the large window looking out over the beach. He made no appearance so she thought there was nothing for it but to go swimming which she did to pass the time until dinner.
It was dusk when she wandered outside into the gardens. There were couples sitting around at tables sipping cool drinks and she noticed Tukola by himself, drinking a coffee. He looked much like the computer aged police image. Stealing her resolve, a chill went down her spine as she approached nervously and asked if he minded her joining him. He lifted his head; his cold eyes fleetingly met hers and somewhat reluctantly, he invited her to sit down. Although he forced a smile, there was nothing in his eyes - only deadness.
He placed his cup of coffee down and settled into the comfortable chair. “I am the owner and I hope you are enjoying your stay.”
“Yes, it’s a fine hotel. The name’s Kerstin, I’m pleased to meet you sir,” she lied again as he offered an outstretched hand. His hand was cold like a reptile. His touch caused her to shudder within. “I’m Hadar Tukola, pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She started to shower praise on the gardens. She now knew this was a favorite subject and if he wanted accolades and bullshit, she would provide it - anything to get him talking.
“Whoever designed this garden and surrounds deserves great praise, it’s absolutely magnificent.”
He smiled a slow languorous twisting of his lips. “It’s kind of you to say so. I actually designed and supervised this whole area, the gardening and beautiful flowering shrubs. What stimulates your interest Kerstin?
“Sailing is one of my great passions. Do you sail?”
“Yes, I wouldn’t call it sailing as such it’s more a launch with high powered engines, no canvas or oars.” He smirked, “she can do thirty five knots on a calm sea; I named her Windsong. She’s the wife I never had!”
“My goodness she must be pretty impressive. I’ve ever only sailed in the slower yachts. I suppose best speed would be ten knots with all sails and a fair wind.”
“I am being very ungentlemanly what are you drinking?”
“I’ll have the house special cocktail.”
He clicked his fingers and a young waiter appeared out of nowhere as if he’d been waiting for this click, “a house special cocktail for this lady and my usual with plenty of lime.”
The garden tables were all occupied with chatting couples. Kerstin noticed very young girls no more than fifteen and sixteen, waiting on tables. The drinks came back and the young waiter almost bowed with reverence to this dark, stern man.
A young waif-like like girl came quickly across to the table. She was no more than fifteen. Her colorful cotton dress hung on bare thin shoulders and her brown innocent eyes danced with trepidation. She spoke in a barely audible whisper to Tukola. “Mr. Chen Yun asked me to come and tell you he is very sick sir.”
He snarled at the timid child. “You know you are not allowed to come here, get back to the house immediately.”
She turned and half ran out of the lighted garden and disappeared into the encroaching darkness.
“Excuse me I must go.” His lips trembled with rage. “Such stupid people.”
He left walking briskly across the lawn. Kerstin was shocked at the sudden change in this man. He scared her. The poor child, she thought, would he punish her? She was powerless to do anything.
After an early morning swim she felt nicely refreshed as she walked back to the hotel for breakfast. Kerstin sat by herself at breakfast, watching and making mental notes. She couldn’t help notice that most of the staff both waiting on tables and doing room service were young girls of no more than fifteen or sixteen - some even looked younger.
It was eleven when she decided to order a taxi and as she asked the girl at the front desk if the hotel had any transport to the town. A voice from behind said, “I’m on my way there in five minutes Kerstin if you would like a ride?”
She turned surprised to see Juan standing behind her. “That’s very kind of you. I’ll just go and get my bag.” He drove slowly avoiding the odd bullock and donkey. “You can’t be too careful with animals on the road, especially at night.”
She wanted to get back on the subject of his wife’s drowning. “Do you live in the hotel or have you your own house?”
“I couldn’t live in the hotel; I’d never be away from work. We live near the hotel. You see, Mr. Tukola owns all the land around and he gave me a site to build. You cannot see it from the road it’s set back far.”
“I met him briefly last night he can be a charming man. Surprising that he never married, he surely would have made a good catch,” she said, as she wondered where her newly acquired acting skills had come from.
“No he never married and as far as I know. I’ve worked for him for over twenty years and he’s never been involved with any woman. He can be a moody man though, and his temper is just below the surface.”
“Yes, I noticed. A young girl came to the table last night to tell him a man, I think his name was ChenYun was very sick and he should go to his house. He was very cross with the child.”
“She is one of the young girls working at his house. They nearly all come from Venezuela. They are from very poor families and most have little or no education. It is sad to see young people so deprived; their parents just sell them into this labor for a paltry sum and expect the kids to send money back home to them.”
She had been side tracked so tried to get back to his wife’s death again. “Did you say your wife worked for customs? It must have been a great job and I dare say they don’t have many administrative jobs here?”
“Yes you’re right they’ve very little in the way of government here as you can imagine, and she loved her work.”
“Was she diving as a hobby?”
“No actually it had something to do with her job. At the time it was supposed to be confidential but now I don’t think it makes any differences to talk about it. The powers that be got a directive from the CIA who are busy monitoring drug trafficking around the whole Caribbean. The drugs are coming from South America and being stored on some islands and then picked up and eventually ending up on the streets of U.S. citi
es. They said they had information of a gang operating from this island and that some suspicious activity was seen in and around Milligan Cay. The Agency sent the local customs a request to search around the island underwater and that was when my wife and her colleague were lost. The police dived and searched but found nothing. Strange their air bottles were never found, even if sharks got them the bottles would float and turn up somewhere; their names were on them so even if they went out to sea someone could have picked them up. Here we are. Where will I drop you. I’d ask you to lunch only I have some business to attend to and I’m actually late already?”
“This is Bay Street, perfect, thank you Juan.”
When Henry saw her coming through the door of the bar his joy was palpable.
“Did you miss me she pouted at him?”
“Miss you? Don’t tease me, I’m miserable without you. But please tell me, did you see Juan? Was he like me? Did you speak to him?”
Steady on Henry, all will be revealed. I have a lot of news, so all ears now. I’m going to switch on the recorder in my head and let go, are you ready?”
“Yes, I’m all ears.”
She related every last little thing she learned including her feelings of revulsion for Tukola and his treatment of the young girl child.
When she had finished he sat looking serious; his detective brain in overdrive. “We’re going to have to proceed with caution. If only we could get Juan on our side, but that might be almost impossible. This man is his employer and jobs here especially any kind of decent ones are scarce, so he’ll not easily offend Tukola.”
“Yes, I agree and I’d say Juan knows more than he’s willing to admit to. The only chink in his armor is the mysterious death of his wife and if we could probe that more we might come up with something to get him on our side.”