Say It Ain’t So Joe!
Chapter 35
“Hi Dick, it’s me Frank. Let’s get together for a late dinner at your place tonight, perhaps on the terrace since the rains have stopped and it’ll be relatively cool for a change. By the way, I’m buying this time so put away your government plastic. It won’t be needed.”
“What’s up Frank? I haven’t heard from you in awhile and thought you might have gone AWOL on me.”
“Well, in a sense, I have, but not the way you might be thinking. I’ve got a business proposition for you and I hope you’ll take it seriously. I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse,” laughing at his iffy God Father line.
“Okay, Frank, let’s meet at 9 P.M. on the terrace. I’m intrigued about the offer I can’t refuse. See you then.”
Huh, I wondered what was on Frank’s mind or what was up his sleeve. Even though the guy had saved my life, I still wasn’t sure I could trust him, especially after the call the other morning. So I hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst.
***
Frank showed up on time and I’d finished my first beer. He was in a good mood. We chatted about the weather, the progress the UN was making and, of course, Mama’s disappearance. Things had greatly quieted in the city so there wasn’t much else to report.
“Dick, as mentioned, I have a business proposal to discuss. One you’ll wish to seriously consider before you answer. I’ve left the agency and now on my own, well not quite on my own. I know this will be a shock, but I’ve taken over the leadership of The Family. I’ve been a member since my early twenties, but kept a hands-off relationship given that I worked for the CIA. They wouldn’t have taken kindly to my membership. No sense of irony or humor I guess. In any case, it is what it is. The good news for you and the embassy is I’ve called off the harassment campaign and severed ties with the Cubans. There will be no more of this nonsense.”
“Dick it’s over and you can go home my friend, if you wish. Otherwise, stay here and work for me as my second-in-command. I need someone with your experience and connections because I plan to grow our businesses.”
Wow, that was a shocker that I didn’t see coming! I quickly ordered another beer and Frank did the same thing. So, the agency was right about him turning his coat inside out. I was terribly disappointed.
“Sorry to interrupt, but you killed Mama to take over the family businesses?”
“Good God, no! Why would I do that? She was my blood aunt who’d raised me as a teen. I could never do that. Besides, she was up in years and I would inherit The Family’s many illegal enterprises eventually. I don’t know where she is or what she’s doing and frankly don’t care. This is my opportunity and mine alone. I’ve earned it.”
Frank’s body language suggested otherwise. He’d murdered his aunt, but couldn’t admit it, at least to me and probably to no one, a smart move on his part. I stayed silent and sipped my beer.
“So Frank, what do you have in mind for me? What’s my role in this new venture of yours?”
“You’d be second in charge of things, my alter ego and confidante, someone I can trust with my life. I saved yours and I’ll give you the chance to save mine sometime. Then it’s even-steven at that point. The karmic books will be balanced between us.”
“Dick, The Family is comprised of semiliterate thugs for the most part. While they’re good as muscle, they’re terrible as strategists, even less so as simple tacticians. There’s not a budding rocket scientist among them. Quite to the contrary, that’s why I need you on my team.”
Frank was playing the guilt and indebtedness cards and playing them well. I did owe him for saving my life, but what he was proposing wouldn’t happen. I simply couldn’t turn my back on nearly 25 years service as a federal agent. One who’s supposed to enforce the law, not break it. But I continued to listen to his pitch.
“I know your federal pension is miniscule compared to what I can pay you. You’ve been a good soldier for many years and now it’s time to look after yourself, your own interests and bank account. Don’t worry about taxes, either Haitian or U.S. I run a cash and carry business only, so there are no records that can be inspected by the authorities, yours or mine. Open an account in The Caymans and you’ll be fine.”
I admitted to myself I was momentarily tempted by the offer, but only for a brief moment. I’d never turn to the dark side for Frank or anyone else. It simply wasn’t in my nature.
“Here’s where the money is, a lot of it,” Frank continued his monolog of vice and corruption.
“With all the UN municipal works projects underway, we can extort all of the big contractors with threats of work stoppages or slowdowns. Perhaps throw in an unfortunate accident or two for good measure. That will shake them up and make them pay up. Their contracts call for stiff penalties and fines for late performance so they’ll be happy to pay our price. My zombies will serve as enforcers for any reluctant contractor that doesn’t kick back to us. We can pull down at least 80 to a 100 grand a month by my guesstimate. But that’s only for openers.”
“The Columbians have been screwing us, shortchanging us, for years. That will stop immediately. If they want our protection for their flights transiting Haiti, they’re going to have to pay more for the privilege. We have exclusive control over the airfield operations because we’ve paid off the right authorities. If the cocaine cowboys want to continue business as usual, it will now cost 50K each month. That’s on top of what they’re already paying us.”
“They will continue to pay us in product as agreed to at the beginning. However, we’re going to go into the distribution of the stuff in Haiti and the Dominican Republic. It will no longer be the nickel and dime operation on the streets of Port-au-Prince that Mama was content with. Oh no, we’re going to be a big time player in this market.”
“Next, we’re going to set up shell companies here which will only exist on paper. We’ll use them to launder monies received from all of our businesses, ultimately sending everything to the Caymans for safekeeping.”
“The last thing is politics. And politics means corruption with a lot of money on the table for the winner. I plan to run for office in the upper chamber of parliament. I already have a large base of support and with The Family’s backing, I can win. Mama gets the kudos for this one. She created a large following with the voodooists. Those same people will campaign and support my run for office. It’s to their advantage to do so. They understand the political dynamics here and want to share in the spoils of office. That’s the way it’s always been in Haiti.”
“Pretty ambitious plans for someone who told me he only wanted to help his countrymen.”
“Yeah, well I lied. Look around this city and what do you see? You see poverty, disease, misery and hopelessness, just normal, everyday life in Port-au-Prince, my friend. I love the Haitian people, but only in respect to what they can do for me, my dreams for a better life for me.”
“What happened to the idealist who’s now been replaced the cynic?”
“He died a long time ago, replaced not by a cynic but by a realist. However, we need to stop travelling memory lane and get back to my offer.”
“Dick, you can pretty much name your own price. There’s plenty of money for both of us. The Family owns several apartment buildings, so choose your new home. It is part of the compensation package I’m offering. That and a couple paid trips to the states each year. So what do you say? It’s time to shit or get off the pot, my friend.”
“Frank, it’s a tempting offer, but I’ll pass. Thanks just the same. I’m simply too set in my ways to make a life change. Some might suggest I’m in a rut, but it’s at least a rut of my own making and I sleep well at night, nothing personal. “
“Well Dick, I’m terribly disappointed you turned me down without giving the proposal some serious thought. No worries though, let’s continue to be good friends.”
Frank raised his bottle in a toast and I did the same. “Here’s to friendship!” He said.
Just as I lifted my beer, I heard a shot ring out. I was certain it came from a high powered rifle. My bottle shattered in my hand and pieces of brown glass flew everywhere. I then heard a second shot, a much softer sound than the first. I quickly figured out what happened. Frank had tried to assassinate me since I’d turned down his offer. The toast was the shooter’s cue to fire.
I guessed the second shot was from someone watching my back; someone with the initials C.I.A. My wannabe killer was now lying dead somewhere beyond my sight. I’d been damn lucky to escape the bullet with my name on it.
“Nice try Frank, but no cigar or brass ring this time,” as I straightened myself and brushed the glass from the front of my leisure suit. I looked at him and he was pointing a small pistol at my heart. It sank at that very moment.
“Sorry Dick, you know too much about my plans and would have tried to stop them. You’re still the goody two shoes G-Man. Too bad, we could’ve been great partners and friends, but that’s not to be.”
As he spoke, I pulled out my snub nosed revolver from the front of my trousers. I fired all five rounds from beneath the table hoping a couple would find their mark. And they did. Frank sat mortally wounded, his eyes began rolling upward and his breathing stopped. He was dead. He’d been gut-shot and I’d been lucky.
Looked liked I’d be picking up the tab after all. No worries!
***
The agency types cleaned up my mess since I cleaned up theirs, a simple matter of quid pro quo. I’d eliminated a traitor for them and, of course, that was the plan from the start by thoughtfully providing the gun. However, it wasn’t really an act of kindness. It was a matter of keeping their hands clean, letting someone else do the dirty work…..and take the fall, if necessary. They were very clever boys when it came to such things.
It was time to go home. All the loose ends had been neatly tied together, yet I wondered why I felt like crap.