Brad Elliot sat behind his desk at his auto parts store on Old Hope Road. He was reading a pornographic magazine. He kept them in his desk drawer. Sometimes some of the girls would borrow them while others would call him naughty for reading them.
A knock sounded on his office door and he shouted for the person to enter.
Buxom Marie Deslandes pushed open the door and entered.
“Two men here to see you.”
“Who are they? What do they look like?”
“They look like government officials.”
“Are you sure they’re not some tax people? They showed you their identity cards?”
“They work for some development agency.”
“You can bet that it’s another waste of taxpayers’ money. I hope that they aren’t here to waste my time.”
“Show them in.”
The girl went out to the men and showed them the long corridor they had to take to reach Brad’s office.
When the men entered, he offered them seats. He took the letter of introduction from Premba. He only read a quarter of it when he swore and flung it down.
“What’s this, have both of you come here to trick me? I’ve never had any dealings with anybody named Colombo, so get out of my office before I call the police.”
He jerked out his desk drawer. Premba whipped the gun out of his pocket and pointed it at his forehead.
“Touch that gun and you’re dead.”
Duffus came around the desk and jerked open the drawer further. He took out the gun. It was a Beretta semi-automatic pistol.
He handed it to Premba.
“It’s a good gun, the guy has. Where did you get this gun from, Mr. Brad?”
Brad didn’t answer him.
Premba went and locked the door.
“What are you dealing with, Mister Brad? What happen, you don’t want to hear what my boss has to say? Are you saying that he’s making a mistake?”
Brad sprang up from around his desk and came towards the door. Duffus came to face him and he punched at him. Duffus avoided the punch and gave him a left hook to his chest. A kick to his knee made him grab it and hop around the room on one foot. Duffus then hammered left and right combinations to his midsection. The man folded up on the carpet. Duffus grabbed the man’s towel and wiped his sweating face.
“That was a good workout the guy get, now just turn him over on his back.”
Duffus hammered a kick to his side, which spun him over on his back.
“Mister Brad, do you understand me? The boss is giving you twenty-four hours to live. If I were you I would contact him,” Premba warned.
Duffus flung the towel at him as the two of them walked out of the room. At a quarter to ten that morning Ardez got the call, Brad Elliot had been contacted, immediately the countdown on his life began.
***
Lex Malcolm kept shaking his head that morning. He had left home in Golden Spring at eight o’clock and had two blown out tires. One happened in Stony Hill and the other at Mary Brown’s Corner. He had cursed his luck both times. Now it was ten minutes past ten and he was just arriving at his office. The receptionist, who also doubled as his secretary, showed him two men who were waiting on him. From their identity cards he saw that one was Livingstone and the other, Gray. They were from some government agency called the National Development Unit. He had never heard of it before, but governments in this country had a habit of forming all sorts of agencies, primarily to waste taxpayer’s money. Normally in such a mood he would have chased them out of the office, but they would only be back. He motioned them to accompany him upstairs.
Once in his office, he offered them seats and took the introductory letter from Premba.
He read a quarter of it and then began to swear.
“Who the hell are you?”
He reached for his briefcase.
“Don’t bother with that, old man, unless you’re tired of living,” Premba warned.
He had his gun out, pointing at Lex’s forehead.
Duffus came around the desk, opened the briefcase, which didn’t carry a combination. He took out the Taurus semi-automatic pistol.
“Where did the old man get this gun from?” Duffus asked before handing it to Premba.
“It looks like a brand new one too, we should be able to sell it for some good money. We have more to pick up today.”
Premba pocketed the gun.
Lex sat up and moved his chair away from the desk.
“Finish reading the letter, Mister Lex.”
Lex’s eyes blazed.
“If you’re trying to blackmail me, it’s not going to work. So get out of my office and go about your business if you know what’s good for you.”
“Shut up and read the letter, old man.”
“So you don’t want to hear what the boss has to say, old man. He’s only giving you twenty-four hours to contact him.”
“You dirty dogs, I have a good mind to…,” Lex said. He stood up and picked up the phone. Duffus hit him on his wrist with his gun butt and he doubled up in pain, holding his wrist. A kick from Premba sent him to the floor. The two men looked at him.
“You see who you’re dealing with, old man,” Premba told him.
Leaving him sprawled on the floor; they opened the door and walked out. At five minutes to eleven that morning Ardez got the call that Lex Malcolm had been contacted.
***
Bendoo and Grosset arrived in Montego Bay at approximately eight o’clock that evening. After booking into their hotel, they went to a nightclub and picked up two women.
They would leave on Saturday morning. Having had their breakfast they returned to their rooms to prepare for the day’s interviews.
Their first interview was with Gordon Bishop. He agreed to comply with their demands. Their next four interviews were all incident full. Grosset’s temper broke each time forcing their victims to hastily agree to their demands.
They were now on their way to visit block factory operator, Joseph Tai. Bendoo was feeling tired from having driven all over Montego Bay. He wanted nothing but a hot bath to get rid of the dust and sweat. At Albion they asked about the block factory and were given directions.
They took a pot holed filled road and crossed a bridge that could only accommodate one vehicle at a time. Finally, they arrived at the block factory. There was a sign at the gate marked ‘Joseph Tai’s Block Factory.’ The guard examined their identity cards before letting them in. Bendoo parked the car in the customer’s parking lot. Two trucks were in the loading bay; one had nearly finished loading while the other was about ready to load.
Bendoo and Grosset made their way to Tai’s office and showed his secretary their identity cards. She motioned them to take a seat while she tried to contact her boss. Bendoo wondered what kind of asset this man would be in the forthcoming campaign while Grosset wondered if he had another office. The good part of the interview could be handled here, but if the man got difficult this was hardly the place to give him a beating.
When the Chinese man came in, both men introduced themselves as National Development Unit employees. He told them to follow him to his office, upstairs. Once in his office, he examined their identity cards, meanwhile offering them seats on two wooden chairs.
Finally, he returned their identity cards and sat down behind his desk. He took the letter from Grosset but didn’t bother to open it.
“I’m lucky, my friends warned me about you, two. I was here waiting and planning how to get rid of you. You two guys are really unlucky. I don’t even want to know who you’re working for.”
He lit a cigarette. Grosset started to get up out of his chair.
“Sit down, big man! You’ve beaten up a lot of men today. I have a good mind to tag your bodies and leave them on some rubbish heap.”
“You dirty dog!” Grosset stood up when the door opened and two youths entered, guns drawn, lining up him and Bendoo.
“Frisk them, Mr. Tai,” one of the youths said.
Tai came from around his desk and began with the still seated Bendoo.
He was looking at Bendoo and fidgeting when the latter made his move. He flicked him over his head, falling to the floor in the same motion. The man landed on the smaller of the two youths, knocking the gun out of his hand. Grosset had already sensed Bendoo’s move because as Tai sped over the latter’s head, he had thrown his chair at the other youth and dived at his legs. Both moves caught the youth by surprise. He tried to parry the chair and was unprepared for Grosset’s flying tackle, which sent him crashing to the floor.
Bendoo had in the meantime taken up the other youth’s gun and had him covered. Tai was out cold; he had received a cut to his forehead, which was now bleeding. Grosset now drew the other youth off the floor. Bendoo picked up the gun, he had dropped, when hit by Grosset’s flying tackle. The youth was whimpering, almost imploring, when the giant’s fist crashed into his jaw crushing up teeth and flesh almost tearing his head off.
The youth skidded across the room, landing into a wall. He fell to the floor, blood streaming from him. He spat out blood and broken teeth. Grosset went after him and kicked him in his side, which doubled him up. He then drew the youth off the floor, wielded him in the air several times and then flung him into a corner of the room. He then turned to the other youth. There was stark terror in the youth’s eyes. The giant walked up to him and grabbed him around his shoulders. He then slammed him with a right hook, which launched him over the desk.
He went around the desk after the youth. He picked him up and wielded him in the air and then flung him on the other youth.
He then turned to Tai and kicked the man in his side which made him groan and roll over on his back.
“You have twenty four hours to read the letter and get in touch with us, Tai. Don’t bother to get smart with us again, old man or else tomorrow you’re going to find yourself sleeping on a block of ice.”
He and Bendoo walked out of Tai’s office. Their job in Montego Bay was completed. They would return to their hotel and prepare for the homeward trip in the morning. At a quarter to five that evening Ardez got the call that Joseph Tai had been contacted.
Grosset was sure that their mission had been successful. None of those contacted would take his threats or the beatings they had received lightly.
***
Ardez got several calls that evening, all of which he noted. Still, there were other people to report and he knew that once the deadline had passed it would be time for action.
***
Lex drove through the heavy traffic on his way to King’s house. His right hand was in a plaster and he was still feeling the effects of the blow that the gunman had given him with the gun-butt. He didn’t try to drive fast for fear of increasing the pain in his hand.
Who had sent the two men? Was it Paolo Colombo? Did he want back his father’s money? All those questions had to be answered first before he could feel safe. Damn them all, he swore under his breath. He wasn’t going to make any report to the police. All he needed was another gun to take care of those two gunmen should they return to threaten him.
When he arrived at King’s house, he saw Brad’s car parked outside. What the hell was Brad doing here? Were he and King planning something behind his back? He touched the car horn and King’s wife came out.
She was a pretty attractive woman with a body that belied her age, he had always thought during the fifteen years he had known her.
“Lex, how are you? Danny’s around the back with Brad. What happened to your hand?”
She looked concerned.
He finally parked his car behind Brad’s car and got out.
“Hello, Betsy, how are you?”
He greeted her with a hug.
“I met in a little accident today, it’s nothing serious,” he said, going through the gate after her.
She directed him to King and Brad.
Both men raised their eyebrows on seeing him.
“What happened to your hand, Lex? Have you been fighting?” King asked him.
Lex took one of the glasses, threw out some of the whiskey, and dumped three cubes of ice into it. He stirred the mixture, took a good swallow before finding a seat on one of the patio chairs.
“Two men came to my office today saying that they represented some government agency. They showed me a letter, which asked me point blank if I was ready to return the favor I had received several years ago. If I refused, they promised to kill me. It had a telephone number, which I was to call when I was ready to cooperate. I got angry and told them to get out of my office. They
refused, held a gun on me and one of them hit me on my hand with his gun-butt.”
“What are you saying, Lex? The two of you have to tell me what’s going on. Maybe it’s the same two men, who went to look for Brad. When he tried to run them out of his office they beat him up and took away his gun.”
Lex drank some more of the whiskey.
“It was the Colombo organization, which set up my business for me. You know that was a long time ago. All these years passed so I just forgot about them, especially since they left Jamaica and went to live in Miami. I know that some day they were going to want me to do something for them. Well, this is it and I just don’t want to get involved.”
“It’s the same way I got my set-up,” Brad told them. “Two men came to look for me today, saying that their boss wanted to talk to me. Like Lex said, I just don’t want to get involved.”
“Well, what are you going to do? It’s the Colombos. Since they moved to Miami, I hear that Henri’s dead and it’s Paul, who’s running the show now. I hear that he’s a drug lord and that he has links with the Mafia and the Columbians. It’s a trick they played on you. You probably gave them a stake in the business which they never exercised. That stake must be worth thousands of dollars now. They could demand everything at once. Or maybe if you decide to work for them fulltime, they’ll forgive the whole debt.”
His words provided cold comfort for the two men. They knew they were in grave danger.
Lex drank some more of the whiskey.
“They’re working through somebody in Jamaica though. If we could just find out who that person is, we could eliminate him and put ourselves in the clear again.”
“I gave them a forty per cent stake in my business. Like you said King, it’s worth thousands of dollars now,” Brad told them.
“They got forty five percent in mine too. I could never buy back that stake from them,” Lex stated.
Danny King remembered that Henri Colombo had operated a loan shark agency for over ten years in Downtown, Kingston. When the socialist winds started blowing on the island, he had fled with his family to Miami. He knew that the man didn’t live long after migrating. He had heard that his son, Paolo, decided to audit his books. After doing a careful analysis of his father’s records, he was surprised at some of the things he discovered. He decided that he could use this information for his benefit. Jamaica was near enough to be of some use to him.
“So where’s the letter? You have the phone number? We could get somebody to phone and find out what they want.”
The two men thought over what he had said.
“You mean we should phone and let them know that we’ll cooperate with them?” Brad asked.
“But you don’t know what they want and you’re refusing. If I were you, I would wait until they tell me what they want me to do before I do anything.”
“If I know those men, it’s nothing good they want us to do, and that’s why I refused,” Lex told them.
The sun had disappeared and the darkness was slowly falling. King turned on the patio lights.
“This looks serious. Paul seems to be more dangerous than his father. You have to do something fast.”
King knew that his two friends and future business partners were in a predicament. They had gotten easy money and now the Colombos wanted them to repay the debt by helping them to carry out some scheme. Both men weren’t prepared to cooperate because of the inherent danger, which they sensed must be lying behind such a scheme. They both faced death and the time was constantly shortening.
“What do you think they could be interested in out here? I don’t think since they ran away to Miami they’ve returned to the island.”
“It must be marijuana and they could use the island to ship cocaine from Columbia to the States,” Lex replied.
“They want us to use our warehouses to store the drugs for them,” Brad remarked.
Lex considered what Brad had just said.
“I don’t think we’re the only ones they contacted. That means it’s a big operation, they are undertaking,” he opined.
“They must have people out here working for them, maybe some gang that they want you to work with,” King told them.
“Wait! The Wareika gang and Gus McCreed must be involved!” Brad shouted triumphantly.
“Well, at least we’re getting somewhere. That was simple deductive reasoning. Rory is supposed to report back to me about his meeting with Fred. In the meantime, you’d better keep out of circulation. I just hope they never trailed you here.”
Both men started looking around and out onto the roads.
“Trailed!” Le echoed the thoughts of his colleague.
“They could follow you here, if they’re going to carry out their threats, they have to know where you are.”
“Are you advising us to go into hiding, King? I’m not hiding from anyone,” Lex was defiant.
“Well, don’t bother to take my advice, continue to run your business as usual. You’re going on as if you alone can fight Paolo Colombo and McCreed. Brad, try talking some sense into him, I’m going inside, I’ll soon be back.”
He returned to find the two men in silence.
“So, Brad, what have you and Lex decided to do? I can’t offer either of you any protection, so you know you’re on your own.”
“King, if I go into hiding, what will happen to my business? I can’t keep on exposing my wife, I don’t want anything to happen to her on account of me. I might as well go out there and face McCreed and his gunmen,” Lex pleaded.
“Listen to my plan, Lex, before you do anything,” King said. “We’re going to put McCreed under so much pressure that he’ll forget about you two.”
Both of his listeners looked surprised.
“What are you saying, King?” Brad asked.
“We’re going to hire some men to raid his weed fields and his warehouses.”
“Raid his weed fields? Wouldn’t it be better to hire some men to plant it for us?” Lex opined.
“Too risky, plus we’d have to either rent, lease or buy land. This is our short term strategy,” King replied.
“What about your lands, King?” Brad asked. “I thought you still had those lands, even if you’re no longer cultivating weed.”
“Ah, come on Brad, you and Lex should know that we either rent or lease lands and get a few men to cultivate the crop for us. If it’s their land, we give them money to prepare the land and then we share the profits from each crop. Most of my growers are working for either Mc Creed or other syndicates now. But our long term strategy must be to acquire some sizeable holdings and enough fighters to protect our syndicate.”
It was getting late, Brad looked at his watch and stood up.
“King, I like your plans; I’m sure that Lex likes them too, but I have to leave. You can contact me and tell me how things are going.”
Lex and King stood up.
“I’m going to leave too, but I want to know more about those plans of yours. You can phone me and tell me more about them.”
King accompanied them to the gate and shook their hands. He watched them leave.
***
From inside the living room Betsy King watched the last of her soap opera. She desperately hoped that Danny wasn’t returning to his various schemes. They had raised three good children all of whom were abroad. If he returned to his unsavory past, she would go and join them. The idea had always appealed to her, but she had remained in Jamaica because of his stubbornness and the children’s desire that she remain with the old man, despite what they knew about his nefarious activities.
She knew that all her children were aware of how rampant drug trafficking; especially marijuana was in Jamaica. The two boys had won football scholarships to the same United States college in consecutive years. It was while in the third year of academic studies that a fellow student had approached the elder son. Betsy remembered what he had told her.
The man told him that he knew some men, who were willing to pay top dollars for the Jamaican weed his father had stored in warehouses in Kingston. It came as a shock to the youth and he had promptly phoned her. She had tearfully told him the truth. The three kids had wanted to come to Jamaica to confront their father. They had vowed to remove her from the island if he didn’t call a halt to those activities. She had phoned them to say that their dad was concentrating on his merchant tailoring business these days. Now it seemed that she had misread her husband again.
***
Later on that night Grosset and Bendoo again went out clubbing. They picked up two more women. Bendoo now found himself with Peachie, the younger of the two women. They had a good session of lovemaking. She was a bit shy at first, but he caressed her expertly and she responded to him with passion. When they finished, she had dropped off to sleep, but he lay on the bed thinking.
So far his cover was secure. None of the men at Wareika suspected him to be a Special Branch agent. He had at first been apprehensive about Niah but it appeared that he had lost contact with his relatives so there was no danger from him.
He had handled his tasks intelligently. The trip to Montego Bay was a trial one and he knew he had performed creditably so far. He knew that once the gang had any doubts about him, they would give him some very dangerous tasks to perform.
The girl in Bendoo’s bed looked at him. He was sleeping like a log, she thought. She got up off the bed without making a sound and tiptoed to where his clothes were.
Bendoo opened his eyes and came back to reality, he must have dropped off to sleep. Peachie was not on the bed. He saw her searching his clothes, his bag and the drawers of the dresser. She was conducting a fruitless search for money he thought, for he had hidden his wallet under the mattress on his side of the bed.
“What are you looking for?”
He got up off the bed and turned on the lights.
“I was looking at my watch to find out the time.”
“You can’t look at this kind of watch in the darkness and know the time, come put on your clothes.”
He threw them at her. She was crying as she dressed.
There was a knock on the door. Bendoo opened it slightly.
A female voice whispered, “Peachie.”
Bendoo flung the door open and grabbed the woman and drew her into the room. It was Sophia, the girl, who had been with Grosset and she was fully dressed.
“Where are you going?”
“Let me go!”
She snapped open her bag. He suspected that she had a knife inside. He drew her towards him, took away the bag from her and pushed her down on the bed.
Peachie took up her slippers from off the floor and rushed at him. He pushed her away and she fell on the floor.
There was a commotion in Grosset’s room and the giant came to knock on Bendoo’s door.
“Bendoo, Bendoo, open up.”
Bendoo opened the door and Grosset came in. He spied Bendoo with his girl’s bag and her on the bed. Immediately he went after her, drawing her off the bed.
“Where’s my wallet?”
Bendoo opened Sophia’s bag. The giant’s fat wallet lay concealed among perfumes, tiss