Buzzard Bay (56 page)

Bob couldn’t believe his eyes. It was when one man took a sledgehammer and started crushing her skull that he fell back into the room and puked his guts out. Before long, he heard the water stop running and the men leave the garage.

“I’m the next one on that table,” Bob thought. He was ready to die but not that way.

Bob went into the garage and began looking around. The garage floor was strewn with empty canvas bags, obviously their contents had been emptied into the luggage bags lined up along one wall. He was pretty much in a fog as he opened a closet door and saw what he would call a bazooka. He pulled it out of the closet and walked over to a window where outside he saw a group of men sitting around a table. He aimed it at them and pulled the trigger but nothing happened. He went back to the closet but couldn’t find anything to load it with. He put the bazooka back in the closet reasoning it was no good to him if it wouldn’t fire.

He continued his search coming across a leather bag on one of the work benches. For some reason it piqued his curiosity. Inside Bob found it to be full of surgical tools. Maybe this was what he was looking for but how to do it quick, slash your wrists or cut your own throat neither sounded easy to him. He emptied the bag onto the counter top and to his surprise four sticks of dynamite rolled out of the bottom of the bag. They were bound together and attached to a phone.

“This is more like it,” Bob thought as a wave of nausea hit him and he lost consciousness. When he came to, he found himself lying on the floor with the dynamite still in his hands. He picked himself up off the floor and began playing with the buttons on the phone.

THIRTY-SIX

H
ENEKIE WOKE UP
to a ringing in his ears, but it took a few seconds to realize the ringing wasn’t in his head; it was Lena’s car phone. He could feel the stiffness and sore spots in his body as he sat up and answered it.

“Sir, you said to try this number if you didn’t return last night.”

“Where are you, Tommy?” he asked.

“I’m down by the main docks where the mail boats come in.”

Henekie’s head began to swim as soon as he sat up, but he knew he couldn’t stay here much longer without someone checking the car out. Probably the heavy tinting on the windows was all that had saved him this long.

“Okay, Tommy, I’m headed your way. Wait for me in the parking area.” It took all his effort to control the dizziness as he drove. Twice he had to pull over until the waves of nausea passed. When he finally got to the parking lot, he spotted Tommy walking around looking for him. Henekie pulled up and parked beside him. Before Tommy could say anything, Henekie told him to get a bag out of the trunk and get in the car.

“You don’t look good, sir,” was all Henekie would let Tommy say.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” he told Tommy as he changed into blue jeans and an old shirt. “I’m your old man, and I’m drunk. I’ll have my arm around you. If I pass out, keep going. Don’t stop until you dump me in the boat, and then get the hell out of here,” Henekie told him as he rubbed some black stuff on his face and arms.

They made their way to the dock without too much trouble, but when they got there, they were met by an angry black man who was mad at Tommy for parking in his spot. “I called the harbor master,” he expounded. “They’re gonna haul your ass out of here.” The man’s boat had them blocked in, and even though Tommy tried to explain that he had to retrieve his drunken father, the man wouldn’t budge.

Henekie quietly told Tommy, “There’s a hundred-dollar bill in my shirt pocket. Tell him it’s his if he lets you go.”

The man immediately changed his tune when he saw the money and allowed Tommy to leave. They didn’t wait around to hear the lecture. Once they were back under the old warehouse, Henekie had Tommy make a hammock so he could lie in the salt water. Henekie knew he had been fortunate in that he had been spared the full blast of the explosion, and other than a dull headache and some nicks and bruises, he surprised himself at how fast he healed. The next day he felt well enough to climb the stairs up to the compound above.

He first went to Julio’s garage, where through a crack in the wall, he watched as some men in white coveralls striped a woman of her organs and put the parts in coolers. Although this operation piqued Henekie’s curiosity and he reasoned it was probably what would happen to him if he was caught, it was not crucial to the information he needed.

As soon as the men left, he made his way into the garage, pulled the ladder down to the attic, and climbed up looking for the missile launcher he’d left there years before. It wasn’t there. He quickly climbed down, let the stairs up, and turned to face a naked man.

Not only was Henekie startled, he was very apprehensive of what the man held in his hands. “Is that a bomb?” he managed to get out.

“Yeah, looks that way, but I can’t figure how to set it off.”

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t set it off while I’m around,” Henekie tried to sound calm. “Are you one of them?”

The naked man nodded toward the shower. “If you mean am I one of the guys who butchered the girl? No.”

Bob thought he should recognize the man’s voice but his head was so fucked up he wasn’t sure the man was even real or even if the conversation was real.

“But why are you here?” Bob tried to comprehend.

“I left something when I used to hang out here years ago, but I can’t find it.” Henekie tried to sound truthful.

“Yeah, and what would that be?”

Henekie thought he’d stick with the truth. “A missile launcher.”

“Oh, that’s in the closet over there,” Bob pointed.

Henekie walked over to closet and pulled out the launcher. He pulled down a lever and carefully extracted the missile.

“Well, why in fuck couldn’t I figure that out?” Bob sounded disappointed.

“This fixation to kill yourself must really turn you on,” Henekie pointed at the naked man’s half-erect dick.

Bob looked embarrassed, “I think someone filled me full of drugs last night because I can’t get it to go down, but if you were the next one to go on that table you’d be looking for a quicker way to die just like me.”

“I’ll be on the table with you if I get caught in here,” Henekie told him.

“I don’t know how to set this thing off, so I guess I’ll hide it and see if someone else does.”

Henekie also noted the transfer of packages from the canvas bags to the luggage and knew they would soon be shipped somewhere. “You should take some of that cocaine,” Henekie told him. “It might make your life a little easier.”

“That stuff has been trying to kill me since I came to these islands. It might get me, but I swear I won’t go alone.”

“I have to go back to my hiding place, but I’ll swear to you one thing. If you go into that shower, you won’t die slow, and you won’t die alone, Henekie said.

They shook hands. “Maybe someday we’ll meet in another place,” Bob told him. He went off into another room, and Henekie got the hell out of there thinking that’s one of the craziest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.

Bob remembered seeing a yellow handbag sitting on a table behind where he’d left the woman sleeping. He opened it to find it full of articles he’d never seen before but he knew some of the items were sex toys. “She obviously likes her sex hot,” he thought. This should fit right in. He put the dynamite in under some of the items and closed the bag. He was about to explore some more but two men caught him sneaking around and tied him to a chair. He was too tired to fight back and soon fell asleep.

Henekie now knew what had caused the explosion at his shop. Their being only one missile left explained that, and Karla screaming the name Julio explained who did it. Lena was the one who could tie it all together, that was if she would still talk to him. Henekie was pretty sure they’d have cameras and “bugs” in her house; it didn’t take him long to disarm them.

It took a bit of coaxing, but Henekie finally lured Lena into the garage. Their conversation was at first intense, but eventually Lena admitted that his trying to steal the money had worked out well. “They need my signature and the Greens’ to get the money back, so that gained us a few days. However, I don’t do well under torture so my signature is a foregone conclusion.”

he looked him in the eye. “That goes for you too. I’m going to have to tell them what I know about you.”

“That’s okay. Embellish your story all you can. The only reason they haven’t asked you about me is because they were hoping to trap me into coming for you.” Henekie told her.

“I figure we’ve got about two more minutes before someone’s here to see why the power went out. What else do you know?”

“Jon Smyskin is coming tomorrow. Some of his staff got here yesterday, and oh yes, Mr. Green told me that this property was going to be made into the Colombian Embassy. Another thing you may not know is that Mark Bertand and Bob Green are one and the same. Incredible as it might sound, there have been rumors that he’s the Referee, and everything he does is just an act. Come to think of it, maybe he is the Referee. Maybe he had himself thrown in here to find out everything I know, get the money in his account, and is now back on their side of the fence,” Lena stopped talking seemingly lost in thought.

“I didn’t recognize Mr. Green when I saw him over there,” Henekie told her. “He didn’t exactly look like he was enjoying himself.”

Lena just shrugged, “Maybe that’s just part of the act. Maybe he’s like you, Henekie, a chameleon. How did you get in here, anyway? Makes it hard to know who’s who in this game and how do you pick the winner?”

Henekie smiled, “Stick with what you know. I’ll meet with you tomorrow evening after you’ve talked to Jon Smyskin. Come to the garage when your living room light blinks twice.” Henekie threw the breakers back on and disappeared.

ecurity was tight around the embassy grounds as Jon Smyskin’s helicopter landed. Everyone came out to meet him, except for Henekie. He made use of the opportunity to go up into the attic. He listened as Jon made his rounds praising some and scolding others. Jon had a long private meeting with a man he addressed as the doctor, and then he got around to Bob Green.

“I’m sorry they’re keeping you tied up, but apparently you’ve been a bad boy.” Jon sat down in a chair across from Bob. “You probably don’t know who I am. My name is Jon Smyskin.”

“Yes, the cartel man,” Bob answered.

“Mr. Green, I’m a legitimate businessman in Colombia, and you are now on Colombian soil. You committed a serious crime and will be tried under our law.”

“You seem a little upset that Lena and I stole your money,” Bob told him calmly.

“That’s not the only thing I’m upset about, Mr. Green. Were you on board my father’s ship the night he died?”

“So that’s what precipitated all this?”

“Yes, I was on the ship before it blew up, but then you already know that. I’d have been in that shower last night except you need me to get your money back, don’t you?” Jon hesitated for a moment; he had expected to meet a very frightened man. “You realize you and your wife are in a very precarious situation.”

“I know where I am,” Bob told him. “I’m ready to die. So your only option is to deal with me on my terms, or I don’t help you get your money back.”

Jon handed him a paper and said, “Why don’t you just sign this and we’ll forget about you.”

“I’ll sign, Mr. Smyskin, and then you can kill me and get your revenge. But first, Lena and my wife have to be guaranteed that you won’t kill them.”

“We might consider a deal for your wife, but why Lena?” Jon wanted to know.

“Just to piss you off. Okay, here’s the deal. My wife and Lena are to be seen alive at Horatio’s party. Then they can come back here where I can see they are alive. Sir Harry is to be allowed to come here and take them to wherever you want, to have them sign your paper. Then Sir Harry will take them someplace safe. When that happens, a man named Novak will phone me and I’ll sign your paper.”

“You’re sitting here, tied up in a chair, telling me what to do,” Jon sounded a little amazed.

“If you want your money back without any complications, it shouldn’t be too hard for an honest businessman from Colombia to set up.”

Jon stood up, “Now I see why you’ve lived as long as you have, Mr. Green. I’ll give you credit for having guts. We shall see how smart you are when your guts are in the shower and you’re screaming to die.”

Bob didn’t back off, “I might be screaming, but I won’t sign your fucking paper.”

“Okay, maybe we can come up with something suitable for all concerned.” Jon got up and left.

The doctor had been standing to one side. He grabbed Jon’s arm once he was out of the room. “You’re not going to listen to all that bullshit, are you?”

Jon turned to him, “No, but the U.S. banker says I should have all three of these people present in front of him when we sign the papers. Maybe I can use this to my advantage.”

Up in the attic, Henekie listened to the conversation with great interest. He too thought Green had a lot of guts, or as Lena had mentioned, was this part of a grander scheme set up by a mastermind that put even Henekie himself to shame?

Jon stood in the main reception area of his bank in the Bahamas. He’d never been here before even though this bank generated billions of dollars for him. Lena had built it and run it. Now it was time to show who the real boss was. The bank was the largest employer in the Bahamas with over twelve hundred employees. The reception area only held about half of them; the rest would listen to his speech broadcast on loudspeakers installed throughout different floors of the building. The employees were generally in a good mood; it was Friday, which meant the rest of the weekend would be theirs.

Jon stepped in front of a small podium amid a round of applause. “I am sorry to report that over the last year, we have had over one billion dollars stolen from this bank. We find that the Internet systems and security systems here in Nassau are inadequate to handle the volume of business we do. Therefore we are moving the bank and all its businesses located here in Nassau, to Bogotá, Colombia. All employees will receive their termination notices today except for a few needed to finish up the business here. All employees will receive one month’s compensation. I am sorry to have to tell you this news, and I thank you for your good work.”

The doctor guided Jon out a side door and into a waiting car before the people listening let his words sink in. Word spread like wildfire; people spilled out into the streets, talking in groups. It was here that paid insurgents began sowing the seeds of discontent.

The next morning, Jon’s speech was front-page news. Everyone knew the loss of a business this size would affect all of the Bahamas, not just Nassau. Again, there were agitators in the bars and on the streets stirring the people until by evening the city was in an ugly mood. One thing was ingrained into people’s minds, both Jon Smyskin and the prime minister would be at the Crystal Palace that night.

“How do you know he’ll rent a tux?” Tommy wanted to know.

Whenever he could, Henekie tutored Tommy. “It’s all deduction. The rental shop you found is close to Novak’s home, and he’s too cheap to buy a suit. We know he will have to mingle with the guests so he’d stand out in a crowd if he didn’t wear a tux.” Henekie shrugged. “That’s my deduction. Let’s see if I’m right.”

They went into the shop and talked to the man behind a desk. “I am renting a tux for my friend who doesn’t have time to get over here. He’s going to the same place as Mr. Novak. He says the same size will fit him. Do you think we could see Mr. Novak’s suit?”

“Yes of course,” the man said and showed them the suit. Henekie took the tux and put something in the pants pocket before handing it back.