Square Snapper (Detective Inspector Burgess) (15 page)

Chapter 28

“Move the goddamn boat and move it now!” He was frustrated as hell. “Don’t argue with me. You heard the interview on the news. They know about a boat.” He was furious that, for the first time, he had used his own boat to ship product. He had just bought from an outfit in Jacksonville, a beautiful, tri-deck, 110 foot Sunseeker yacht complete with extra fuel tank, state of the art satellite navigation and communication systems - not to mention every modern convenience for gracious living. It was his pride and joy and a direct reflection of his success. He had had to bring the boat to Bermuda anyway and had allowed his cousin – his partner in the drugs trade - to talk him into allowing him to bring in a shipment of heroin with it. He cursed his stupidity, recognizing that greed had got the better of him. His cousin held a captain’s licence and had persuaded him that he would be in charge and would drop the packages overboard himself. It would be dark so the rest of the crew would never even know. At the time, it had seemed a reasonably calculated risk. Now he could kick himself for this lapse in judgement. For the first time, he felt vulnerable and it was not a feeling he liked. Lucky for his cousin he was family. He was feeling particularly murderous towards him and knew he would have to keep his emotions in check.

“If we leave it at the Yacht Club, it’s hidden in plain sight,” growled the voice on the other end of the telephone.

He felt a trickle of sweat roll down his back. Damn, he would have to change his shirt.

“Yes, but if they decide to search all the boats at the Yacht Club, it’ll be too late to move it without attracting suspicion. I am just worried that with these Canadian forensics specialists in town, the police may have more resources than normal to check for any residue of the drugs. Hell, I’m no expert but nowadays they sure seem to be able to trace just about anything.”

“Okay. I hear you.” The gravelly voice placated. “Do you want me to moor it at your friend’s in Tucker’s Town? He’s not coming back until the spring and his dock is as good as any.”

“Yes. Do that. I think that’s fine. If asked, we can always say that we’re friends… and make sure there is nothing on the boat that can link us to the drugs. I can’t stress that enough.”

“No problem. I’ll make sure it’s clean. None of the packages leaked so I don’t see how there could be any traces of them.”

“There’s something else I want you to do. I’ve made a phone call. That detective is getting too close. He’s all over the news and the island is getting behind him.”

Chapter 29

The air conditioner in the murder room was not keeping up with the heat outside and the number of bodies inside. Detective Inspector Burgess had decided to call a meeting to go over details and consolidate facts. He had his team and the forensics group in the room together with those officers from Narcotics who were following up on leads on the tainted heroin. The public had not been backward in coming forward and the police were finding themselves mired in so much information that it was hard to see the wood for the trees. Some were seated and some were standing in various attitudes around a long cedar table. After they had arranged more chairs from a large stack in the corner so everyone had a seat, Detective Inspector Burgess began.

“First of all, I want to invite you to get your coffee and muffins from the sideboard over there and make yourselves comfortable. I’m not sure how long this will last and I want everyone to have a chance to give their feedback and suggestions.” Burgess wanted to set an informal, interactive yet business-like style to the meeting. “I think, to make this more productive, let’s talk about the heroin first and hear from the Narcotics team. That way, they can then get back to their duties.”

Burgess wanted as few non-essential personnel in the room when information began flowing regarding the actual murders. In the back of his mind was the possibility of an informant amongst the assembled group. For his part, he did not believe that any member of his immediate team had knowingly divulged information. He did, however, want to limit the number of individuals with access to critical areas of the cases. He was also toying with the idea of throwing in some false information to see if he could flush out the mole but he hadn’t had time to formulate a plan and wanted to talk to Archie about it. This was something he had never had to contemplate in all his years as a police officer and he felt a little out of his depth.

Inspector Ed Dill in charge of the narcotics team began his report.

“We have interviewed some fifty people in the outlying parishes and on Court Street. The best information we have is that Frenchie is in league with somebody called ‘Captain’. Our information is that Captain is the gentleman who is supplying the drugs to Frenchie. It appears that he brings in cocaine and heroin. We don’t believe he’s running the marijuana that comes in from Jamaica. It seems that his area is hard drugs from the United States. It would appear that Captain has a boat or access to a boat, which is how the heroin came in. Apparently it’s packaged in a waterproof wrap with a GPS transmitter attached and thrown overboard. According to our information, Captain has several people working for him. One of them was Deon White and the other Ja’von Williamson. We managed to interview Deon White’s best friend, Derek Trott. By the way, Detective Inspector, thanks for the lead on that. Anyway, he says that he stopped hanging with White when he got involved with the Captain and Williamson. Apparently, White started making big bucks and was flashing it all over the place, buying jewellery and betting on the dog fights. Trott also told us that White had recently placed an order for a new flashy BMW convertible. His feeling was that White was in too deep with some bad characters and was not smart enough to handle himself.”

“The boy’s a prophet,” remarked Archie wryly making several of the officers smile.

Burgess was thoughtful. “Do we have a description of this guy they call Captain?”

“Yes.” The narcotics officer started flipping through his notebook. “Hell, I can’t find it. Sergeant Tucker, do you have the description to hand?”

Another member of the team took over. “Yessir. He’s Bermudian around forty. Brown skinned, slender build, not quite six foot and has a funny voice. Apparently, it sounds as if he’s had a problem with his voice box. Oh, and he has a lot of brown moles on his face and neck.”

“That’s quite a description.” Burgess saw that Pamela was taking notes. “How many Bermudians have a captain’s licence that look and sound like him? Interesting about the voice. That could be a major clue.”

“Yes,” said Tucker. “Several interviewed mentioned his distinctive voice. It’s kind of husky. In fact, the pushers are all furious with Frenchie because of the problem with the heroin. They have been unable to sell much of it and some have even sent theirs over to the hospital dump site. According to our sources, there is quite a feud going on between the Captain, Frenchie and his dealers.”

“I’m not surprised. This has got to be bad for business. Okay, Inspector Dill, could your team look into identifying the Captain and follow up on the boat angle?”

“Sounds good.”

“Ms. du Bois, could you give us an update on forensics? For those of you who have not met Jan du Bois, she heads up the Canadian forensics team which is assisting us on these cases.”

Jan was all business. Even though she was dressed casually in jeans and short sleeved shirt and had a slightly Bohemian air, her reputation had preceded her and the room was silent in anticipation of what she had to report.

“Thank you. As far as the heroin deaths are concerned, we have analysed the heroin and concluded that it had been laced with strychnine, a component nowadays used in rat poison. Death would have been pretty painful
.
As you know,
Dr. Brangman performed autopsies on all of the drug victims and found no evidence to suggest that these people were intentionally murdered. It would seem from evidence at the scene of each death, the way the works were left and fingerprints, that the victims had administered the heroin themselves and were unaware - or just too desperate to care - that the drug was lethal. Our findings correspond closely to those of the Dade County Coroner’s Office and analysis of the heroin confirms that the tainted heroin in the Miami area has the same chemical composition as the heroin here. We can therefore positively establish a link between the dope in Miami and the shipment to Bermuda.”

“Archie, what can you tell us of the raid on the lab?” Burgess deliberately cut short Jan’s report so as not to give the Narcotics team any additional information on the forensics of the two murders.

“Detective Gonzalez of the Dade County Police reported that they had had a ‘two beer day’. From that comment, I believe they were pleased to have captured several illegal Mexicans working in the laboratory, together with some pretty sophisticated equipment. A Chinese doctor was apparently in charge of the lab which was also messing with cocaine and making methamphetamines. They found some waterproof packaging and GPS transmitters, so, again, we think that is probably the origin of the square snapper dropped off in Bermuda waters. Unfortunately, we do not have a sample of the packaging for comparison purposes, so we cannot use that to further support the chemical analysis. However, as Jan said, the chemical composition is the same, so I think we’ll have enough just with that. Anyway, it appears that they know who’s behind the operation, a fellow named “Cujo” Menendez.”

“Cujo?” exclaimed Sergeant Tucker. “Like the movie of the mad dog?”

“Yep. I imagine he is quite a charmer! Anyway, Gonzalez is going to report back to us when he has more information.”

“Good. That, I think, brings our narcotics information up to date. Does anyone have anything to add?” Burgess was eager to talk to his core team. “Yes, Jan?”

“Could we get a sample of the packaging from the hospital dump site? It’s possible that some pushers may have dumped the drugs still in the original packaging. That way, we could send it over to the U.S. for comparison with the packaging they picked up in the lab.”

“We’ll get on to that for you,” replied Inspector Dill.

“Excellent idea,” said Burgess. “Anything else, anyone?” he paused. “No? Then Inspector Dill, I want to thank you and your officers for all the valuable assistance you are providing. We’ll look forward to any further information on the boat and, if you could let us know how you make out with the identification of its captain?”

“Will do. Let us know if anything comes up that we should look into.”

Detective Inspector Burgess paused while the Narcotics team made its way out of the conference room. When he had his team around him again, Burgess gave the room back to Jan du Bois.

“Jan, can you update us on the forensics concerning the two murders?”

“Sure. Dr. Brangman performed autopsies on Rhonda Mayberry and Deon White. We have conclusive evidence through partial prints on the spear gun and White’s blood in the seams of Williamson’s clothing that he probably killed both victims. We have evidence in the form of prints on beer bottles, his helmet containing hair and hair oil plus saliva on what was left of a spliff, to place him at White’s house shortly before his murder. Tyre tracks at the scene of the first murder are identical to those of a Suzuki pick-up owned by White with both White’s and Williamson’s fingerprints and traces of Rhonda Mayberry’s blood inside the truck. We figure that Williamson got blood on him when he cut the cord attached to the spear gun. He obviously thought she was dead but, from the autopsy, we now know conclusively that she managed to crawl towards the water’s edge which is how she ended up being lifted by the tide and carried along to the mangrove swamps. Sea water and sand in the lungs points to the fact she was still alive when in shallow water. Fingerprints on the rubber inflatable at White’s house place both him and Williamson in the zodiac and tracks at the murder site near the vehicle have now been identified as those of the zodiac being dragged to the pick-up. Sand and salt water residue in the vehicle also lead us to conclude that the zodiac was transported in the bed of that same truck. We have yet to find the murder weapon for Deon White but, based on Dr. Brangman’s autopsy findings, he was most likely killed with a partially serrated double edged blade, probably a diver’s knife. The kind of trauma sustained is consistent with that type of weapon.”

Chapter 30

He checked the gold Rolex on his left wrist. It would be lunchtime in Dallas; time for a “Come to Jesus” talk with his Texan colleague. Back in the late seventies they had been room mates in college – one studying theology and the other business. Even back then, both had entertained dreams of wealth and success – two threads that had bound them together and made them unlikely friends; one black from a small island and the other white and poor from the South. They soon found that their ambitions and response to those who looked down on them were things they had in common, in addition to their burning desire to make something of themselves no matter what the cost. Their friendship was born out of a recognition that they were both, in reality, cut from the same cloth. He recalled with a smile how they used to clown around singing “Ebony and Ivory” in their dorm room. Streetwise as they were, it was back in college that they had learned what a heady experience it was to profit from the weak. It was there that they got involved in pushing dope to their fellow students, never touching the stuff themselves. They had managed to build up quite a nest egg and had taken pains to remain low key so as not to attract undue attention. All in all, they had used university, not just for the diplomas but also for the financial gain they had made there, as a springboard to greater things. His friend, having been forced by his family to study theology, had become a nationally renowned tele-evangelist, whilst he was now the first black Bermudian Chief Executive of an offshore insurance company. Their dreams and ambitions had been realized much sooner than anticipated and the thought pleased him. He reflected that their friendship and business dealings had lasted more than twenty years and he could not remember ever having had a problem until now with this shipment of tainted heroin. This was a conversation that would not be pleasant and he was going to need all his diplomatic skills to handle it well. He was unused to the feeling of a knot in his stomach as he dialled the number and it made him mad.