Of course, Wallace didn't know that Joseph had long ago learned what he was carrying when he picked up the small, non-descript parcels from the man on the dive boat from Miami. That was good, in Joseph's mind. If Wallace didn't know that Joseph knew about the diamonds, he wouldn't be as likely to think Joseph stole them.
Not that Wallace could hold him responsible for the actions of pirates, but Joseph knew Wallace would be looking to recover those diamonds. It crossed Joseph's mind that Wallace might not believe what had happened. Joseph figured the package must be worth a lot of money; based on what he'd been getting for the odd stones he skimmed, he guessed that the whole shipment was probably worth something over $100,000.
Joseph wished now that he hadn't spent his ill-gotten gains so freely; he figured he would probably never see Blacksnake again and he didn't have the money to replace her. Maybe if Wallace wasn't too upset, he'd help Joseph finance a replacement, but Joseph wasn't hopeful on that score. There were plenty of other people with go-fast boats looking for easy money, and carrying the small packages for Wallace was much less risky than running drugs or smuggling Cuban cigars to Miami.
He was guessing that the two men who had stolen his boat and its cargo had been expecting more ordinary loot; they probably just wanted Blacksnake. Would-be drug runners stole go-fast boats all the time. He couldn't imagine that they had known about the diamonds. Who could have told them? The few girls that he had favored with a stone or two wouldn't have told anybody where they came from, and surely Ranjit was careful. He would have protected the source of his loose diamonds.
The men had boarded Blacksnake from another go-fast boat; one of them had stunned him immediately with a blow to the head. He remembered them talking while he was dazed, but he couldn't recall what they had said. Before he recovered, they had hit him again and thrown him overboard. He had come to as Blacksnake and the boat that had brought the two men roared away leaving him adrift midway between Andros Island and Frazier's Hog Cay. If his boat had been their target, maybe they hadn't even found the diamonds in his briefcase.
****
"It's Blacksnake all right, but the body's not Joseph," Willie reported nervously as he stood by the table where Wallace and the big white man named Sam were eating lunch. Wallace had dispatched him in a RIB earlier this morning after one of the pilots had spotted the wreckage from the air as he made his approach to the private airstrip on Paradise Island.
"He must have been in the water for days," Wallace said, as the white man nodded. "You sure it couldn't be Joseph?"
Willie fidgeted with the straw hat that he held, fig leaf style. "It was a white man. Maybe Cuban, but for sure not Joseph. He had a ponytail, long and straight. Not much left of his face, though. Had a gun in his belt. Look like somebody shot him.
"Where was the bullet wound?" Wallace asked.
"Nice round hole in the middle of his chest; bust the breas' bone up. Whole back blown open where the bullet came out," Willie said, imagining how the wounds had looked before the sea creatures had been at them.
"Where's the body now?" Wallace asked.
"In the RIB under a tarp; I figured better to not leave it with the wreck. I'm surprised nobody found it yet. It's barely underwater, and it's only 'bout a hundred yards off the beach, right by the lighthouse."
"What kind of shape is Blacksnake in?" Sam asked.
Willie looked at him nervously; he didn't know this man, but Wallace clearly trusted him. To Willie, that meant he was at least as dangerous as Wallace. "Mash-up pretty bad, like he hit that reef goin' full throttle." He picked at the straw hat as the two men looked at one another. "Busted all to pieces," he added, uncomfortable with the silence.
"And you searched the wreckage carefully?" Wallace asked after a moment.
"Yes, sir. Pick through all the pieces, and snorkeled all around, for mebbe a hundred yards. Right up to the beach, on that side."
"Okay, Willie. Take that body out to the deep water and chain some blocks to it before you dump it. Make sure it doesn't come back up, you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Go. Get rid of the body and keep looking for Joseph," Wallace said.
Willie nodded and left.
"What do you think?" Sam asked Wallace.
"Joseph wouldn't have hit that reef. It's a half-mile east of the breakwater at the harbor entrance. No reason for a boat to even be over there, that I can see, especially not running fast that close to the beach. That whole area's full of shallow coral heads. It doesn't make any kind of sense unless whoever was at the helm was a stranger to the area." Wallace sat, shaking his head for a moment, and looked up at Sam.
"From the way Willie described the wound, that man wasn't running the boat," Sam observed. "He got shot before they hit the reef. There would have been a hell of an impact; not likely that anybody was in shape to shoot him after the wreck, so there must have been somebody else aboard."
"Yes," Willie agreed, "and we know Joseph's briefcase made it ashore, so that somebody's probably got the diamonds."
"Don't forget, the briefcase was in the Velasquez woman's room; the resort's just a short walk to the east along the beach," Sam said.
"You're thinking Joseph killed whoever that was and wrecked the boat, then met Maria Velasquez at the resort?" Wallace asked. "Why, though?"
"Maybe Joseph wasn't the other guy in the boat. We already know he was skimming from us. We know he had women all over the place, and he gave some of them 'samples' of the diamonds. Suppose he gave her a sample and she talked him into hijacking a shipment. Maybe they set it up for two guys to wreck Blacksnake and took off together."
"But she left on that yacht," Wallace objected.
"For all we know, Joseph could have been on the yacht, too," Sam offered. "Maybe the guy Willie found was part of it, and they did him in at the last minute and ditched the body. Or maybe Joseph had two guys running Blacksnake for him while he waited with the woman. One of them could have shot the other and jumped overboard just before they hit that reef. Like Willie said, it's only a hundred yards offshore. Who knows?"
"I guess all that doesn't matter," Wallace said. "We still need to find Joseph and that woman."
"Right," Sam agreed, "but we can stop looking for Blacksnake and concentrate on Vengeance. It might be easier to find, too."
****
"You bring us good luck, Joseph," the older fisherman said.
"Because you save my life, you have good luck," Joseph offered. "If you take me to Freeport, I'll reward you." Joseph had been offering this ever since he regained consciousness in the bottom of the boat a few days ago. The fishermen had found him washed up on one of the many sand bores that dotted the shallow water to the north of Frazier's Hog Cay in the Berry Islands.
The man chuckled and shook his head. "You don't owe us anything, my frien'. The Good Lord put you there where we foun' you, an' he sent us to help you. Would be wrong for us to profit from your sufferin'. Jus' you don't worry 'bout it. We glad to have you with us. I 'splain this before; the Lord, He meant for you to share in this bounty, so don't be wishin' you somewhere you not. All things in the Lord's good time, Joseph."
Not for the first time, Joseph considered whether he could overpower the old man. The problem was the son; he was a giant. Although the big man was quiet and seemed gentle, Joseph noticed the son always kept an eye on him. The only time he had privacy was when the father and son were in the water. The first time they had left him on board the boat by himself, he had tried to steal it.
By then, he had already offered to pay them to take him to Freeport, but the old man had declined, explaining for the first of many times that it was the Lord's will that Joseph stay with them "…until it's time for us to go." He had taken out a tattered bible and read from Psalm 139: "If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me."
While the two fishermen were snorkeling, looking for lobster, Jo
seph had attempted to start the diesel engine, only to discover that the fuel valve was secured in the off position by a rusty padlock. He later watched the old man take a lanyard from around his neck and use the key that it held to unlock the fuel valve before starting the engine. The fisherman might trust in the Lord, but he kept a wary eye on his fellow man.
The old man rummaged around in the ice chest and took out three bottles of Guinness, which he opened with his teeth. Passing one to his son and one to Joseph, he raised his own in a toast and took a healthy swallow. After a belch of satisfaction, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and cleared his throat. "Tomorrow," he said.
"Tomorrow what?" Joseph asked.
"Tomorrow, we go to Freeport. The Lord wills it."
"How can you tell?" Joseph asked in a sarcastic tone that was lost on the others.
"Because He make the beer too warm," the younger man said. "The Lord means for us to sell the catch and buy some ice." The old man nodded in sage agreement.
Chapter 11
Joseph was a little nervous at the prospect of his impending meeting with Wallace Rolle. He had called Wallace this morning as soon as he had gotten ashore in Freeport, borrowing money for the call from his rescuers. He had been stunned by the speed of Wallace's response; in a little over an hour, Willie Davis had appeared at the fishing-boat dock in a taxi. He had immediately taken Joseph to the airport, where a small plane belonging to Wallace waited to fly them to Nassau. It was nearly lunchtime and Joseph was hungry. He had passed up the breakfast of canned sardines and saltine crackers that the fishermen had offered, hoping he could find something better ashore after Wallace sent someone to pick him up, but Willie had insisted that Wallace wanted to see him immediately.
After a few minute's flight and a short drive from the airport in Nassau, he and Willie were in a big dinghy, just leaving the harbor. Willie had been quiet since they met in Freeport, only speaking in response to Joseph's questions. The two men had known one another since childhood; they were distantly related to each other, although neither quite understood the family tie. They were as different in appearance as they were in demeanor; Joseph was a big, handsome man. He was a consummate ladies' man, strong and sure of himself. Willie bore a strong resemblance to a mongoose, although he was neither as smart nor as attractive as one of the weasel-like creatures that the British had imported to the islands early in the colonial era.
Joseph had tried to engage Willie in conversation, probing him as to what to expect from his coming encounter with Wallace. Willie was not forthcoming with any helpful information, and he wouldn't look Joseph in the eye. Joseph didn't get the feeling that he was going to be welcomed with open arms, but he wasn't too surprised by that. When Willie brought the dinghy up to the boarding platform across the stern of Rolle's Kate, Joseph jumped out and handed the bow line to the waiting crewman. He stepped smartly across the platform and climbed the stairs onto the aft deck as Willie called after him, "Hey! Wait! I'm supposed to bring you to Wallace."
Joseph ignored Willie's frustrated cries, asking the first crewman he encountered on the main deck where to find Mr. Rolle. In response to the man's directions, Joseph emerged on the sundeck by the hot tub, where he found Wallace and a big white man. He was pretty sure the man was Wallace's partner, Sam, with the Italian last name that Joseph could never remember. Sam was facing away, and Wallace noticed Joseph first, surprise flickering across his fine, dark features as he spoke. "Welcome back, Joseph."
"Thank you, sir," Joseph said.
Sam quickly turned around and studied Joseph, his countenance unfathomable. He didn't say anything and his cold stare began to make Joseph uncomfortable. Wallace glanced briefly at his partner before turning back to Joseph.
"Any chance of some lunch?" Joseph asked, eyeing the remains of a midday meal on the plates in front of the two men.
"Later, maybe," Wallace said. "First, I have some questions."
Joseph nodded in resignation. "Fair enough."
"Let's start with the package," Wallace said. "Where is it?"
"I'm not sure; I guess the men who took Blacksnake got it. I got no idea where they went, though."
"Who were they?" Wallace asked.
"Never seen 'em before, but…"
"How did they take Blacksnake?"
"I'd just left Morgan's Bluff and got out into open water, headed for Nassau. This red Donzi came alongside and they shot out my windshield from about 50 feet away with an assault rifle. So I stopped, and these two men jumped aboard. Next thing I know, I come around washed up on a sand bore up in the Berry Islands. Two fishermen found me."
"Uh-huh. How long ago was that?" Wallace asked.
"Um, I'm not sure. I was with the fishermen for a few days before we got to Freeport, and I called you."
"Why didn't you pay the fishermen to take you to Freeport first thing?" Wallace wanted to know.
"I tried, but they…"
"We don't have time for this," the big white man interrupted.
Wallace raised his eyebrows. "Pietro, already?" He looked at Sam.
Sam nodded.
"Who's Pietro?" Joseph asked, as the tall, thin man materialized beside him.
"Yes, Mr. Rolle?" Pietro smirked.
"Would you take Joseph below? He's hungry; maybe while he waits for his lunch to be served, you can get a straight story out of him. We don't have a lot of time, so be quick in getting back to me."
"Yes, Mr. Rolle." Pietro put a slim hand on Joseph's shoulder. "Come, my friend. Let's get you something to eat and drink."
Joseph instinctively jerked away from Pietro's touch, taking a half-step back and raising his fists like a boxer. He didn't like the man's looks. "Keep your hands…" he was interrupted as he crashed to the deck with a loud crack, having failed to see the thin man's left foot flashing toward the outside of his right knee.
"Davey," Pietro said, raising his voice slightly to be heard over Joseph's screams, "take him below and make him comfortable. Be careful of his broken leg; we don't want to cause him any additional pain…yet."
****
Vengeance was under full sail, making nine knots on a southeasterly course as Dani took the helm from Connie. There was 15 knots of steady wind from the northeast and it was a beautiful, clear afternoon. "Anything unusual happen on your watch?" she asked Connie.
"Nothing. I haven't seen another boat. The wind's been so steady I hardly even had to touch the helm, let alone trim the sails. I've just been watching for porpoises."
"Yeah, that's the way it is, once you get her all trimmed and in balance."
"I was wondering why you never use the autopilot," Connie said.
"I don't like autopilots. Wouldn't have one, except it was on the boat when I bought her."
"Really? Why not?"
"If you really know how to sail your boat and you've got a real sailing vessel, the autopilot doesn't add anything. It just covers up inadequacies in design or sail trim and leads to sloppy seamanship," Dani said. "Windvane steering makes a little more sense, but only on downwind legs, and then it doesn't work very well."
"What about under power?" Connie asked.
"That's different. Vessels under power don't track like well-trimmed sailboats."
"So would you use the autopilot if we were under power?"
"I'd probably read a book or take a nap and wait for the wind," Dani said. "I hate the noise and the smell of diesel exhaust."
They both looked up at the sound of an airplane approaching, watching as it suddenly changed from a smear on the horizon to a rapidly growing dot to the northeast of them. Soon, it swerved to pass directly behind them at a low altitude. As it receded to the east, it turned back to a course roughly parallel theirs.
"Wonder what that was all about," Dani mused. The plane was almost out of sight, over the horizon straight in front of them.
"It was almost like they were checking us out," Connie observed. "Why would they do that?"
Dani shrugged. "Any numb
er of reasons. Could be a spotter plane for the DEA or somebody like that; could just be a bored pilot, but most likely it's some kind of patrol. There's no other reason for a light plane to be out here so far from land; we're not on a course line between any airports that I can think of. They're looking for something."
"We're still on a course for Puerto Rico, right?" Connie asked, a worried frown creasing her brow. "Couldn't he just be going there?"
"He probably is; that's the direction he's heading, but we're a good 200 miles to the east of a straight line between anywhere to the north and Puerto Rico," Dani replied. "You'd better go get some rest while you're off watch."
****
"We got 'em," Wallace said to Sam as he hung up the phone. They were in Sam's office, a well-worn, water-stained copy of the Defense Mapping Agency's chart INT 403, 'Southeast Coast of North America including the Bahamas and Greater Antilles' spread out on Sam's desk. Wallace took a gold mechanical pencil from his breast pocket and made a tick mark on the chart.
"Wow. They're out there pretty far," Sam remarked. "They're a couple of hundred miles off the Turks and Caicos. Did the pilot tell you what course they're on?"
"Yeah. One-sixty magnetic. They've been riding that northwest wind, probably. Sailboats can't always take the direct route. Wind just came around to the northeast in the last twelve hours or so." He took a set of parallel rules and laid them across the compass rose on the chart, picking up a heading of 160 degrees. He walked the rules across the chart so that one of the edges crossed Vengeance's position mark. Then he ran the pencil along the edge of the rule, drawing a projected course line for Vengeance. "If they hold 160 degrees magnetic, it will take them right into the Virgin Passage, between Culebra and St. Thomas."
"Probably heading for the east end of Puerto Rico; lots of places in the Spanish Virgins for a yacht like that to hang out," Sam said.
"That matches what Pietro got from Joseph, too. It's amazing how much more he was able to remember, like the ponytail one of the guys had, and that they were speaking Spanish to one another."
Bluewater Ice: The Fourth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 4) Page 6