Chapter 11

 

Once in the air, the airplane picked up speed and we climbed to 2000 feet. As we headed north, it was easy to see our destination. St. Maarten was all lit up and was quite a contrast to the dark ocean that surrounded it.

“How we gonna get this plane on the ground?” Tom asked.

“What?” I asked not quite hearing him over the noise of the plane. He leaned over towards me and asked again.

“How are you going to land this plane in the dark?”

Suddenly, I realized that the airport we left from that morning had no electrical power anywhere, let alone runway lights. We were getting close to the south end of St. Maarten and decided we should fly over the little French airport and check it out.

Worst-case would be a landing on the Dutch side of the island at the big airport. The problem with that idea was that André’s plane radio was not working and there was no way for us to request a landing there or even talk to the control tower.

I turned and yelled over the plane’s noise to Bruce asking him if he knew where the French airport was. He did but said we couldn’t land there at night and insisted we go land on the Dutch side.

“Look, I’m going to just check it out. Now, where is it?”

“Right over there,” he pointed out. “See those lights there? That’s the road that leads from French Cul-de-Sac up to the main road. The airport is just beyond that intersection. It runs perpendicular to the Cul-de-Sac Road and pretty much parallel to the main road.”

“How far off the main road is it?” I asked.

“About two or three hundred feet.”

“Is the middle of the runway about where the two roads intersect?” I asked him.

“Pretty much.”

I remembered in my younger days flying my uncle’s planes at night and landing them with the aid of just the head or wing light on the plane. That was into a familiar field and something I did enough to feel comfortable. This was different and I didn’t want to come this far in this ordeal to crash and die.

“Right there,” Bruce said as he tapped me on the shoulder.

I pushed the head light switch to ‘On’ and it threw very little light into the night sky. I circled over the intersection a few times to get my bearings. You could see a dark area on the ground where the airfield was, but that was it.

I didn’t remember seeing any obstructions at either end of the field that morning and reasoned I would approach at about 200 feet then see where we were. I banked the plane around. As we got lower you could see a definite tree line that I remembered seeing earlier.

“Right there,” I said as I nosed over for what I thought to be the airfield.

Looking out the side window, I could see better than with the head light and as I got a little lower, I could see that we were over the runway but better than halfway down the length of it. I pulled back on the yoke, added power and decided to go around. On the next approach I got lower and slower before the intersecting roads which I could see off to my left.

This time when I saw the shadows of the tree line in front give way to open space, I pushed the nose of the airplane over and pulled back on the power. As we dropped in over the tree line I focused my attention out the front window of the plane. The light was still just refracting off the blackness of the air then suddenly I saw in its beam the clumps of grass growing out of the cracks in the runway which was just below us.

We were descending too quickly and as the runway rushed towards us I pulled back hard on the yoke and added full power. The nose came up quickly and suddenly the plane hit the ground.

Fortunately, we were leveled off but still moving at too high a rate of speed for landing. Looking out the front window I could see we were on the runway but just about to run off the left side of it and into some scrub brush.

I slammed my right foot on the right rudder pedal. The plane quickly corrected to the right and we were still moving fast enough that it lifted the right landing gear back into the air while dipping the lift wing down towards the ground.

I let off the right rudder and slammed my left foot on the left rudder pedal. The plane then leveled off and I was able to safely control its direction down the runway until we slowed to a stop.

“Wow,” I said aloud. “Maybe next time we go to the big airport.”

We all laughed. “Nice job,” Tom said.

“Man, what a day. Let’s get this thing parked.”

I added some power and turned the plane around towards the tie- down area of the field. I pulled the plane up next to the twin Apache and parked it right where it had been when we took it. Once we were all out of the plane, I took notice to the moon on the rise.

“Damn,” I said. “If we had waited a little while we could have landed by the light of the moon.”

But even where it was in the sky right then had helped in defining the shadow of the tree line. I felt relieved to be back on the ground and back on St. Maarten.

“Now what?” Tom asked.

“There’s a restaurant within walking distance,” Bruce said.

“Sounds good. I could use a beer.”

We headed out towards the main road. Once we reach the main road I realized that the only restaurant close by was Drew’s. That was where Joseph had suggested we go for breakfast.

“You mean Drew’s restaurant?”

“Yes,” he replied. “You been there?”

“We had breakfast there a while back.”

“Well, they‘ve got a great seafood dinner there, as well,” he said.

“Just need a beer,” Tom told him.

When we reached Drew’s, the restaurant was about half full with touristy looking people all with happy vacationing faces. We, on the other hand, looked a bit disheveled and out of place.

 As we walked in I heard someone call out “Hey, Bruce!”

As I turned I could see a man walking in our direction. He came up and shook Bruce’s hand and mentioned that he hadn’t seen him in a while and wanted to know if everything was ok.

“Yeah, I’ve been away a bit for business,” Bruce told him.

“Well, be seated and I’ll be right with you.”

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“That’s Andy. He owns the place.”

It was easy to reason that here on an island, even one as large as St. Maarten, that if you hung around long enough people would get to know you.

As we sat down a nice looking young woman asked what we would like to drink. I could tell she was French by her accent and, probably like Evonne and Ava, here on the island for a working adventure.

One thing that amazed me was the fact that American beer was more expensive in the islands than the imported beer. Here, though, American beer was the import, I reasoned. We were all hungry and decided we might as well eat. While on our second round of beers and still waiting for the meals to be served, I took notice to a driver dropping off some people at the front of the restaurant.

I got up quickly from the table saying I’d be right back. I exited the restaurant before the driver could drive away. His fare was two couples and as one of the men was handing the driver the cash, I walked up and asked if we could get a ride into Philipsburg.

“Ya, mon, you ready?” he asked me.

“Well, we’re in the middle of our meal right now but it won’t be too long.”

“Look, mon, big plane come in soon and many people lookin’ for ride.”

The thing about island life is that, unlike back in the States where you could just pick up a phone and call somebody, here, the only phones were in town at the phone center. Cabs hung out at the busy places. Drew’s was not a busy place and there were no cabs hanging out.

“Ok,” I said as I reached in my pocket. “Will this keep you here till we’re done eating?” I handed him a hundred dollar bill.

“Oh, mon.”

I could tell he was not impressed. In the islands, as tourism grew so did the opportunities for those living there. Tourism was growing faster than the abilities of the local officials to regulate a lot of that growth.

Cab drivers were largely over looked and many of the streetwise young men growing up there found ways of purchasing cars and instead of robbing the tourists with guns they used their cars and very unregulated cab fares to take money from the unsuspecting vacationers.

“Look, man, I know what the cost is to get around this island in a cab,” I told him.

“You know Joseph?” I asked him.

“Joseph?” he replied. “I know many Josephs.”

“Joseph and his brother Brian,” I added.

“Ah, yeah, I know them two boys.”

“Hey,” he said as he pulled his long dreadlocks back over his shoulders, “You that American with the fancy boat over dare in Marigot?”

“That’s right,” I said.

“Oh, mon, Joseph he speak highly of you, mon.”

“Well, do you know where he’s at right now,” I asked him.

“Ya, mon, he be home.”

“Look,” I said, “if you’re going back to the airport you’ll be passing pretty close to where he lives. Stop there and tell him to come here right away.”

I handed him the hundred dollars and I could see that nothing else needed to be said. He was more than happy with the money and I knew that Joseph was one of the locals that had the respect of many of his peers living there on St. Maarten. I also knew that Joseph had agreed not to drive fares as long as he was working with us.

By the time I got back inside, our meals had been served and both Bruce and Tom were wasting no time waiting for me. When we first sat down Bruce had started asking Tom and me a lot of questions about our venture into his whereabouts. After the second or third unanswered question, I looked him in the face and said “Look, we’ve all had a rough day. I’ll explain everything to you tomorrow. Everything,” I said forcefully. “Now, let’s just eat and unwind.”

For Tom and me it had been one of our heavier days. Between the airplane landings and the scenario that played out at Bishop’s house, we were spent. I was hopeful that it could have all gone down without a shot being fired but real early in I realized what it was going to take dealing with Bishop’s guys. The rest of the time there at the table was pretty quiet. I think we were all just reflecting on how fortunate we were for a lot of reasons. A finished meal and another couple rounds of beer later, I noticed Joseph’s car pull up out front.

“Ok,” I said. “Joseph’s out front, time to go.”

We complimented Andy on the way out for our meals and headed out to where Joseph had parked. He was just getting out of his car as we came out through the door of the restaurant.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey, mon, I see everything going well for you,” Joseph replied.

Tom laughed.

“Yeah, pretty much,” I replied. “We need a ride to a nice hotel in Philipsburg.”

“Ok, I know a nice hotel,” he informed us.

Again, the cab ride was without much conversation with the exception of Joseph telling us about moving Ava and Evonne into their new home.

“Mon, those girls got a lot of stuff,” he informed us.

Apparently it took three trips from the dock to get all their stuff to the house they would be sharing.

“Well, you know women,” I said.

I knew very well. It seemed that from my experience with Linda that she couldn’t go anywhere without taking a lot of stuff and I was always amazed just how much she could pack into any suitcase. Linda, I thought, I’m going to have to get in touch with her tomorrow.

It was near midnight by the time we reached the hotel. It was summer season and, although there were tourists on the island, it wasn’t enough to overwhelm the availability of a room.

After paying for an adjoining room arrangement, we headed up in the elevator for the comfort of some air conditioning, a shower and then a comfortable bed. God, it seemed like a long time since I had actually slept in a real bed. Although the boat accommodations were comfortable it still wasn’t like a real bed.

Tom offered to sleep in the second bed in the same suite with Bruce so he could make sure he didn’t do anything stupid like get up and leave. I was uneasy about Bruce and wasn’t sure if now, back on St. Maarten, he wouldn’t decide to hide somewhere in fear of Bishop’s retaliation.

My concern was to hold him long enough to get his father down here and put them together. Then our job would be done. All night the day’s events just kept playing out in my mind and I did not sleep much, if at all. Before I knew it, Tom was rapping his knuckles on the door of the bedroom.

“Yeah,” I yelled out. “I’ll be right with you.”

I was still exhausted but knew there was too much running through my mind and a few more hours in bed would produce no more sleep. I got up and headed for the shower. It was now seven in the morning and, as I enjoyed a shower that only an expensive hotel could offer, I put together the plan of the day.

I had asked Joseph to meet us there at nine. I wanted to first go to the phone center, try to call Bruce’s father and then put in a call to Linda. Depending on my conversation with Mr. Saxton, I would determine our next move. Tom once again rapped on the door

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m almost ready.”

“Breakfast,” he said.

“Yeah, that sounds good!” I yelled out. “I’ll meet you downstairs in the restaurant.”

“No, I got it here,” he replied.

I went over and opened the door to find Tom and Bruce both eating breakfast that had been delivered by room service. Damn, I thought, this is surely going to be hard to give up. For the past month, hell, for the last couple of months, we had gotten pretty comfortable with having money even if it belonged to Bruce and Mr. Saxton.

Over breakfast it was decided that Tom would stay with Bruce there at the hotel while I went and did what had to be done. Like clockwork, Joseph was there at the hotel just before nine.

“Good morning,” I offered up.

“Where to?” he asked.

“The phone center, please.”

“Sure, mon.”

Joseph was part of the Rastafarian culture there on the island. Most were not Jamaican but grew up attending French or Dutch schools. They were, for the most part, either of French or Dutch decent. I could tell that Joseph was well respected amongst his Rastafarian peers by the respect they showed him every time we would see him meet with others he knew.

Once at the phone center, I was able to reach Mr. Saxton with the third of seven phone numbers he had given to us for reaching him. I wasn’t about to leave a message with anyone before going through the list of all seven phone numbers. He was happy to hear my voice and asked how things went. When I told him that Bruce was with me he instantly asked to speak with him.

“Well, sir, he’s back at the hotel with Tom. I think you should come down here.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked with a concerned tone in his voice.

“No, sir, I assure you everything is fine. When do you think you can get down here?” I asked.

“Today,” he said. “I can catch a flight out right away.”

“That’s great,” I said. “We’re staying at the Pasanggrahan Hotel.”

“Fine,” he added.

 Not knowing the scheduling out of Lauderdale or Miami he wasn’t sure what time he would arrive but agreed to catch a cab from the airport to the hotel and meet up with us.

“Ok, sir, that sounds like a plan.”

Before hanging up he thanked me for all our efforts. When he mentioned something about not being able to thank us enough, I was prompted to ask him if we still had a deal.

“Why, of course,” he insisted. “I have a lot of money but only one son.”

“Sounds good, sir. I’ll see you when you get here.”

Next, I tried a call to Linda’s office. She was there and excited to hear my voice.

“When will you be back?” she asked.

“Soon,” I assured her. “We found Bruce and his father will be here today or tomorrow. Then we’re done and we will be back.”

“No longer than a few days,” I promised her.

She never even brought up the fact that I was not good at keeping my promises. She sounded happy and that pleased me.

“What you smiling about?” Joseph asked as I walked back out of the phone center.

“I’m just happy, man,” I said.

Despite still being exhausted, I was feeling a sense of satisfaction. I did believe that Bishop would seek retribution but reasoned that if we could get back to the States first, he would have to come after us. Once I put Bruce and his father together, Bruce would be on his own.

“Where to now?” Joseph wanted to know.

“Back to the airport. I have to get those duffel bags out of the plane.”

The night before, I had left all three of the duffel bags inside the airplane. The only thing I took out were the three rolls of film, the photos and Bruce’s passport which were all now back in the hotel room.

I wanted to retrieve the guns that I had left in the plane. Pulling up next to the airplane I could see nothing had changed. I pulled the key out of my pocket and went to unlock the door.

“What that foul smell?” Joseph asked as he backed away from the plane.

“You got a dead body in those bags?”

That’s when it dawned on me that we had left that fifth piece of meat inside one of the bags. It was early summer in the islands and near high noon. The inside of the cabin must have been 120 degrees.

“No,” I said as I started laughing.

“What so funny?” Joseph asked still with a look of concern on his face.

“Meat,” I said. “Dog meat.”

“A dead dog, mon?”

“No, it’s dog food,” I assured him. “We were feeding dogs yesterday.”

“Dat smell too nasty to be dog food,” Joseph replied.

Holding my breath, I reached into the back of the plane and pulled all three bags out and laid them on ground. I reached into the bag that the smell was obviously coming from and pulled out the butcher paper-wrapped piece of meat. When I unwrapped it Joseph looked at it and said that it was disgusting.

“It’s a piece of steak,” I said.

“I recognize it, mon, but I don’t eat that sort of thing.”

“You’ve never had steak?” I asked,

“No, mon, I don’t eat no meat!”

I lobbed the meat into the bushes along the side of the runway. I decided to leave the door open on the plane when we left as the cabin smelled pretty bad and I wasn’t sure what else could be done.

Next it was back to the marina to check on the boat. Reaching the pier, I could see Joseph’s brother Brian comfortably lounging on the back of the boat. He was talking with two tourist girls. The girls were standing on the pier and I thought it nice that, even with us gone, he respected our asking him not to allow anybody on the boat.

“Your brother is ok,” I commented to Joseph as we approached the boat.

“Yeah, mon, he ok.”

“Hey, any problems?” I asked Brian when we got close enough for him to hear me.

“Hey, where you been?”

“Ah, we decided to get a hotel room for a couple of days,” I said.

 “Do you mind keeping an eye on the boat for a few more days?” I asked him.

“No, mon, this easy work. I feel like I’m stealing from you.”

“Hey, not a problem,” I assured him.

I went below and put away the guns. Then decided I’d take the .38 with me. I knew I’d be in serious trouble if caught with it there on the island but I could also be dead without it. I grabbed a small carry bag and stashed the gun under a change of clothes I had put together for Tom and myself. Despite showering, we were both wearing yesterday’s clothes which had the sweat and dirt of our endeavor all over them.

Before leaving the boat I squared up the money with Brian that I owed him. He thanked me and we headed back up the pier.

“Where to now?” Joseph asked.

“I think back to the hotel,” I said.

“Ok, mon, hotel it is.”

Tom was happy to see that I had thought to bring him a change of clothes.

“Be careful with this bag,” I said as I tossed it to him.

“Why is that?” he wanted to know.

“The .38 is tucked inside a pair of jeans in there.”

“Do you think we’ll need it?” Tom asked.

“Don’t know but I don’t want to be unprepared should Bishop or his guys show up.”

“Oh, they’ll show up,” Bruce said. “Bishop’s a heavy hitter and he won’t forgive or forget what you two guys did to him yesterday. And those dogs – they are like family to him. I can tell you he cared more about those dogs than the guys you shot yesterday.”

“Well, first of all, keep your voice down. Secondly, we didn’t kill those dogs.”

“That’s what you told Bishop and when I last saw them, they looked dead to me,” Bruce said.

“Yeah, well don’t believe everything you see or hear. We drugged the dogs, we didn’t kill them. At least I hope not,” I said shrugging my shoulders.

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked.

“Well, we fed them some valium by way of a steak dinner and we weren’t really sure just how much it would take to put them down. I figured each dog ate at least five to ten milligrams.

“Oh, that would kill them,” Bruce said.

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“That’s enough to kill me,” he said.

“No, that’s just a real heavy buzz,” Tom told him. They’ll be alright.” Me? I wasn’t sure.

“Look,” I said to Bruce, “you’re here and away from being held captive and we have the three rolls of film and the pictures. So, you’re ok.”

I didn’t believe that myself but wanted to sound convincing to Bruce. I was actually hopeful that his father could convince him to go back to the States with him. There he stood a much better chance of avoiding any retribution on Bishop’s part.

“No, I’m not ok,” Bruce said. “Bishop’s probably on his way over here right now.”

“Well, we’re on a French island and I don’t think Bishop will start anything with us here and risk spending his life in a French prison.”

“One problem with that plan,” Bruce said.

“What’s that?” I wanted to know.

“We’re in a hotel on the Dutch side of the island.”

Well, I thought, so much for that theory.

“Either way,” I snapped back, “I don’t think he’ll be hasty to make any poor judgment calls. Oh, by the way, your father will be here tonight.”

“What?” he said jumping up from the table where he had been seated.

“Calm down,” I said. I called him a couple of hours ago and asked him to come down.”

“Why is that?” Bruce wanted to know.

“Part of the deal I made with your dad,” I told him.

“This deal,” Bruce said. “Tell me about this deal.”

“Ok,” I replied. “Sit back down and I’ll tell you how this whole thing came together.”

Bruce sat back down and Tom and I each pulled up chairs across from him at the table.

“Well, let’s see. Let’s go back to the morning that Kevin was killed. You do know that he’s dead, right?” I asked Bruce.

“Yes, Bishop told me he had killed Kevin and I feel really bad about that,” Bruce replied.

“So what was Kevin to you, anyhow?” I asked him. “A friend or just somebody like me that you were using to haul pot bales out of the ocean for you?”

“He was a friend,” Bruce said.

“Well, your friend is dead and if I hadn’t jumped over the side of your boat when I did, I’d be dead, too.”

“Look, man, I told you I’m real sorry about Kevin and getting you involved. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“Fine,” I replied, “but how you gonna make it up to Kevin?”

“I don’t know,” he said putting his face into the palms of his hands.

“Ok,” I said. “So what was Kevin’s involvement in all this?”

“He worked as a boat mechanic at one of my father’s boat yards. I met him there. He was doing a lot of work on some of my boats and one day we got to talking. One thing led to another. He told me he had just moved to Florida a few months earlier. He said he moved down here for a job in the marine industry but he wasn’t making enough money to move his wife and daughter down to Florida like he had hoped to. So I offered him a way to do that.”

“So, he’s got a wife and daughter in West Palm Beach?” I asked.

“No,” Bruce replied. They hadn’t moved down yet.”

“Alright,” I said. “After going over the side of your boat that day, I managed to get back to the States. I found out who you were and was wanting to know what happened to your sorry ass. I basically just called your house and spoke with your dad. He then offered us a deal to find you and that’s pretty much it.”

I made no mention of the blue Mercedes, the suitcase of money or the fact that we had spent a good chunk of it. I wasn’t feeling very apologetic and I really didn’t like Bruce. He was a kid of privilege and was just too damn used to getting what he wanted.

It seemed that his whole life his father had afforded him the best of anything he decided he wanted. Unlike Tom and I who actually had to work our asses off for just a few of the things we ever hoped we might have.

Bruce asked how we made our connection to André.

“From your dad,” I said. “He told us you guys grew up together during the summers in the Bahamas and we decided to check it out.”

I wasn’t about to take the time to explain the whole thing to him. It didn’t really matter as far as I was concerned. Before Bruce could ask any more questions I ended the conversation by saying that was it – end of story.

“Now, relax here till your father shows up.”

“When did he say he’d be here?” Bruce wanted to know.

“First flight out,” I said as I walked back through the door that adjoined the two suites. Tom followed me into the other room.

Once inside, he asked “What now?”

“Well, we wait,” I replied. “His father said he’d be down as soon as he could. I’m thinking it will be sooner than later. I’m hoping by this evening.”

“Hey, what are we gonna do with all that money?” Tom asked. I could see he had already been thinking a lot about it.

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I’ve been thinking maybe we’d head out West.”

“West?”

“Yeah, to the Black Hills, you know?”

Yeah, I did know. It had been years since Tom and I had ridden our motorcycles cross country to South Dakota to attend the cycle meet that went on there every August.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m thinking I need to spend some time with Linda.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said with a little disappointment in his voice.

“Hey, I’ll think about it though.”

“One last ride,” Tom said.

He said it in a way that made me think he knew that this time I was going to make that full commitment to a relationship. One that would put the brakes on his and my ventures.

“Really.” I said to him as he walked back into the adjoining suite.

“Hey, wait a minute,” I said.

Tom turned and I asked him if he could keep an eye on Bruce while I got some sleep. I was still tired and hopeful I could actually fall asleep this time.

“Yeah, no problem,” he assured me as he pulled the doors closed.

Before putting my head to the pillow I went to the hotel lobby and reserved a room for Bruce’s father. I was able to get one down the hall from where ours were. I informed the clerk that I was unsure of Mr. Saxton’s arrival time but that it would most likely be late that night. I also asked them to ring me in my room when he checked in.

Back up in the room I showered again before hitting the bed. This time down, I was out like a light. I awoke to the room phone ringing. Picking up the phone, a man’s voice informed me that Mr. Saxton had arrived and that he was on his way to his room. I jumped up and got dressed as quickly as I could. I wanted to talk to Mr. Saxton about a few things before I put him and his son together. By the time I was dressed and out the door of the room I could see Mr. Saxton at the other end of the hall.

I ran down the hall to meet him so that our voices wouldn’t be heard through the walls of the room Bruce was in.

“Sir,” I said as I got closer to where he was. “I need to talk with you a minute.”

He looked very happy and seemed real anxious to be reunited with his son. He asked if Bruce was there at the hotel.

“Yes, sir, he is but I’d like to run a few things by you first.”

“Yes, what is it?” he wanted to know.

“Well, sir, I’d like for you to keep our deal we made and all our preparations and pretty much everything between you and me at least for a while,” I added.

“You have my word,” he said in a way that I didn’t even have to question.

“Thank you, sir,” I said. “This way.”

I walked Mr. Saxton into my room. As he came through the door I could see him looking perplexed as there was no sign of his son. Before he could question the fact, I pointed toward the door that adjoined the two suites. He looked relieved.

I went over and opened up the door to see Bruce and Tom watching music videos on the television. The reunion was as I had expected. Bruce’s father, a decent man, embracing his only son with real love. Bruce, basically going through the motions like a spoiled rich kid. What an ass, I thought.

“What time is it?” I asked Tom.

“Almost two,” he replied.

“Wow, I’ve been asleep that long?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said.

“Let’s see if we can find a beer,” I suggested to Tom.

We excused ourselves from the family reunion and we all agreed to meet at eight at the hotel restaurant. Walking out of the hotel we could see that everything was closed up and the street was empty. I walked back inside and asked the clerk behind the desk where we could get a beer this late.

“You mean early,” he said.

“Yeah, this early.”

“The Seaman’s Club,” he suggested.

“The Seaman’s Club?”

“Yes, it’s just out of town up on the hill.”

After getting directions from the hotel clerk, we set out in the dark to find the Seaman’s Club. His directions took us off into a more residential area of town. We found the place and it ended up being a watering hole for the local folk rather than for the tourists visiting the islands. A place more like where you would have found Tom and myself hanging out back stateside.

As we approached, the scent of pot filled the air. Just outside the door of the place stood a group of four passing a joint around. We nodded friendly like as we passed them on our way through the door.

Inside the place didn’t look as nice as it did on the outside and the outside didn’t look that good at all. The beer was cold though and the guy tending bar was a friendly Rasta man who knew Joseph. Our reputations had preceded us there that night because he knew who we were before we even explained.

Over a few rounds, Tom and I went over all that had happened in the past couple of days. Tom’s concern was with Bishop and what he would do. I explained that I thought the best course of action was to leave for the States right away. After all, our work here had been done.

“What about Ava and Evonne?” Tom asked.

“What about them? Since when are you so concerned about leaving some women behind?” I wanted to know.

He didn’t answer.

“Hey,” I offered up, “We’ll check in with them before we go. Maybe they’re in our future.”

“We gonna close up now, mon,” the bartender informed us.

“Ok, man, we’re outta here.”

It was now about four in the morning and I was still wide awake. Tom was one who could sleep or be awake depending on what was going on. We walked back to town and down to the main pier. From there you could see the lights of the two big cruise ships that were at anchor in the harbor. We sat there and talked about money, girls, the past and the future until the sky started to lighten up with the rising of the sun. We then decided to go back to the hotel and get some breakfast.

We had agreed to meet with Bruce and his father for breakfast at eight o’clock but we were hungry and decided not to wait. As we walked into the dining area, I was surprised to see Bruce and his father already there and seated in the back area of tables.

“Good morning,” I said as we approached the table.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Bruce’s father said in a matter of fact tone.

“Yeah, we didn’t even try,” I said to him as Tom and I slid our chairs up to the table where they were seated.

“Did you guys order?” I asked.

“No, not yet,” Bruce’s father informed me.

We all ordered up breakfast and before it was served, the restaurant started filling up with guests who were all eager to eat and get on with their day. As the waitress was serving us our food I took notice to Joseph coming through the door of the restaurant. I couldn’t remember asking him to come by for us.

He looked anxious and as he made his way around all the tables, I could see a look of urgency on his face. As he got closer I started to get a little concerned. Once at the table, without saying a thing, he slid a newspaper down on the table in front of me.

Before I could say anything, I noticed there on the front page of the morning paper was a picture of an airplane hanging from its tail like a fish from the hook of a salvage barge. Then I noticed the tail numbers. It was Bishops 210 Cessna.

Damn, I thought and started to read the article. It started with saying two local men died after their plane crashed shortly after takeoff. It mentioned the two occupants’ names but neither name was Bishop.

The story was continued on ‘Page 2’ so I quickly opened the paper. There was a passport photo of each of the men. One was, in fact, Bishop. As it turned out, Bishop was just a nickname he went by.

I felt nothing, no sorrow and no remorse for his demise. After all, this was a guy who had instructed his people to kill anybody with Bruce that day on the boat. The other man who died in the crash was the one that admitted to Bishop that he had left me for dead that day in the closet on Paradise Island.

Leaving the paper on the table, I turned it the other way and slid it over in front of Bruce. When he got finished we all just looked at each other.

Finally I said, “Problem solved, right?”

Bruce’s dad then read the article and wanted to know if this news was good or bad.

“Oh, it’s good,” I assured him.

I knew that Tom had suspected I wasn’t just over there checking out Bishop’s 210 shortly before we left but he never asked. Neither did Bruce.

The article explained that people at the airport saw the plane take off and climb. At about 1000 feet they heard the engine quit. Then the plane nosed over and crashed into the ocean about 100 yards offshore.

I looked up at Joseph. “You hungry?” I asked.

Before he could reply, I offered him a chair and asked him to sit down. I called the waitress over and asked her to get his order and I would pay the bill for the table. I was feeling good. I was feeling relieved. Besides, I needed to spend the last of Bruce’s father’s cash advance. That well was drying up. Soon it would be our well and I knew that my spending habits would change from this lavish style to a much more conservative one.

I asked Mr. Saxton if he had convinced Bruce to go back to the States with him.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Bruce said. “This news changes everything.”

Before he could continue, I said, “Hey, man, not everything is about you. Go home for your mom’s sake.” That shut him right up and he agreed to go back with his father.

His dad pulled me aside on our way back our rooms.

“I appreciate what you did in there and everything you have done. I’m forever grateful to you.”

“Well, sir, you’re more than welcome, but your deal with us was very fair and we will forever be grateful to you, too.”

We shook hands and headed back to our rooms. Mr. Saxton said he was going to try to get flights out for himself and Bruce later that day, if possible. As soon as he knew he would let us know.

I agreed to meet him back in our rooms around eleven o’clock. I then remembered leaving Joseph at the table to eat his breakfast alone. As I entered the dining area, I could see him making himself comfortable at the table reading the newspaper.

“Hey, mon,” I said as I reached the table, trying to imitate the way he said it.

“So,” he said, “This mon Bishop, his death good for you, right?”

“Well, I suppose you could say that. He wasn’t a very good man,” I said.

“What are you drinking?” I asked Joseph.

“Tea, mon, black tea. It good for you.”

“Waitress,” I said to one that was passing by. “Could I get a cup of black coffee, please?” Joseph laughed.

“Let me see that paper again,” I said.

I reread the article and it did mention the fact that there would be an investigation into the crash to determine if it was mechanical failure or pilot error that led to the crash. I wasn’t sure just how thorough an investigation would be here in the islands but reasoned that even an idiot would notice the crimped fuel lines. I also reasoned that what had most likely happened was that the crimped lines allowed enough fuel through to start and run the motor but at full throttle power, the system couldn’t keep up with the demand for fuel.

There was probably just enough fuel between the crimped lines and the carburetor to keep it running for a bit. For me, it was pilot error in the truest sense of the word. While lost in that thought, Joseph asked if I needed his services that day.

“Yes, I do,” I said. “First off, where is this house you moved the girls to?”

“Just up the hill,” he said.

“You mean near the Seaman’s Club?” I asked.

“Oh, mon, how you know about that place?” he wanted to know.

“Tom and I were up there last night – well, actually, very early today to be exact.”

“Oh, mon, that nasty place.”

“Hey, the beer was cold.”

“Ya, mon, beer cold, women hot.”

“Hot women?” I asked.

“Mon, you catch something bad there. No place for you to be,” he insisted.

“Ok, well let me go get Tom and we’ll head up to the girls’ new place.”

Back at the room I found Tom asleep on a couch in front of the TV. Neither Tom nor I watched much TV but when one was ever available we found ourselves watching music videos. We enjoyed the music and each song was a short little piece of visual entertainment. I figured I’d let him sleep and come back for him later.

Back downstairs, I got Joseph from the restaurant and we headed off. On the way out I heard someone calling out my name. When I turned I could see Mr. Saxton making his way toward me.

“Yes, sir,” I said as he got close.

“I was able to get a flight out this evening for my son and me.”

“Very good,” I said.

He wanted to know what Tom and my plans were.

“Well, sir, I’ve been thinking I don’t really want to do another boat ride back to the States.”

“Oh, the boat,” he said. “The boat is better off right here.”

He went on to explain that it was Bruce’s boat to begin with and he was sure that Bruce would prefer it stay here.

“Did you mention anything about the boat?” I asked.

“No, as you requested, I’ve made no mention of anything to Bruce about our arrangement. He did ask and I informed him that it was all between just you and me.”

“Ok, sir. Thank you.”

I then asked Mr. Saxton if he and Bruce could meet up with us for lunch. I mentioned the name of the marina restaurant and he was familiar with it.

“Ok, say around noon? Tom and I will meet you there.”