Buzzard Bay (23 page)

“However, we were not pleased to lose that shipment. It was a perfect plan to start with, who would have guessed the plane would crash on the very first run,” Manly said.

“We’re still not sure what all took place there,” replied the Colombian.

“Maybe Tom staged that too, we don’t know. However, it looks like Tom gave the orders to unload the product from the wreck and tried to steal it.”

“Never thought of that,” said Manly. “Tom would make you think everything was lost in the crash.”

“Exactly, but what happened at the Andros Hotel isn’t so clear. The only information we have is from our informant in the Nassau police department who talked to the old police captain on the island. He’s not on the take but knows enough to keep his nose clean. He claims he only got involved because of the shooting at the hotel. He figures Tom must have been going to ambush the truck drivers and then load the stuff on his own trucks to get it where he was going,” the Colombian continued with his story. “Only we beat him to it and got the stuff down to Buzzard Bay. The police captain thinks Tom, realizing he’d lost the stuff, phoned the navy at Fresh Creek. You know what happened after that. The fucking Americans blew a million dollars into oblivion.”

“So what’s the score on Tom?” Manly asked.

“Tom’s disappeared.” When we find him he’ll disappear permanently,” the Colombian spat.

“What about the police captain?” Manly wanted to know.

“I think we’ll leave him where he is,” the Colombian told him. “He keeps his nose clean, and we don’t want some hotshot coming in there to take his place.”

“What about APCO’s plans for the project?” Manly asked. “Are you going to give the bank their two million?”

“Fuck them! We’re not going to give them anything. In fact, when we’re done with them, they’ll pay us to take it off their hands.”

“You want to get the Canadians off the project?” Manly asked, making sure he knew exactly what the Colombian had in mind.

“Not right now, what I want you to do is reopen the contract they have with the Nassau hotels and the Miami one. We’ll let them keep the contracts but at a rate that will slowly starve them to death. Meanwhile, keep shipping the vegetables into the Miami hotel. They won’t care if the loads are short. The more of our product gets there, the better.”

“I agree with you there,” Waddell told him. “That’s the perfect cover. I’ve got my girl Maggie looking after the vegetables on the hotel end so the Canadians won’t get suspicious.”

The girls came back on board and lay on the deck chairs naked, the water beads shining in the sun on their skin. They pulled anchor, and the boat headed back toward the multicolored buildings of Havana.

“Tighten the noose, it won’t take long for them to pull out,” the Colombian told him. “As for now, we’re back to normal. The shipments are going through as if nothing happened except we had to pay the boat runners a little more. However, I might suggest you consider taking care of some of these people after they leave. I think they know too much about the farm operation and they’re going to be very pissed off when they’re forced to leave.”

“I know,” Manly told him, “I’ve been thinking about it, but so far they seem pretty naive.”

“We’ll know better when the time comes,” the Colombian told him. “Just don’t do anything while they’re still on the project. We don’t want to draw any attention that would affect us more than it already has.”

Manly felt good. He looked at the girls, feeling a sensation in his loins. He couldn’t wait to get back to town. He couldn’t have these girls, but he knew some he could have. The thought pushed the project and July Green to the back of his mind.

The days were too short for the families working on the project. They worked from dawn till dusk trying to preserve all they had worked for. It was more than themselves now; they felt responsible for all the people working there. The Bahamians did their best for them too. All the people, except for the APCO people who kept to themselves, became very close. At first things went pretty well; they showed little or no profit, but their bills were paid.

It didn’t surprise Bob when the hotels in Nassau decided to break their contract. The contract itself, when he had a lawyer look at it, was poorly written and not binding.

“The onus is actually on you,” the lawyer told him, “to supply the hotels, no matter what they pay you.” The lawyer advised him to find out what the other hotels were paying for their produce. “If the hotels you are contracted to don’t at least pay the going rate, you can break the contract and take your chances on a rebid.”

He found the contract with the Miami hotel to be much the same. This was just one of the fights.

Bill and Hania, as well as Dale and Pearl, looked after the day-to-day operations on the farm, leaving Bob and July to donate their full time trying to put out fires before they spread.

July went to the government trying to get APCO off the project. Her argument was that they had not completed their projects on time, putting the whole project in jeopardy. Her voice fell on deaf ears; the APCO company was deeply imbedded in government contracts and had a strong lobby group.

“It’s like beating your head against the wall,” she frustratingly told Bob one night. Bob agreed that everywhere they turned, they were being shut out. July realized just how much of a fighter Bob was. She remembered his frustrations back on his farm in Canada, and she now realized how frustrating it must have been.

Bob learned a lot from past experience and fought back a lot smarter. He continuously lobbied the government and anyone who would listen. Still the noose was getting tighter, but if nothing else, Bob was gaining respect.

No one had ever had such a strong voice for the people of Andros before. The people rallied behind him. The religious groups on Andros were among the most vocal. Bob was invited to speak to all the different denominations. He seemed oblivious to his newfound fame. What did amaze him was how he could stand up in front of a crowd without being nervous and tell them plain and simple what he would like to see happen to this island and its people.

They managed to hang on for a year before they decided something drastic had to be done. Ironically, the only reason they were still in business was that the bank and APCO were embroiled in a bitter dispute. At first, the bank had thought the project was worth at least $2 million.

No one had bid, and APCO had offered a mere US$300,000. Now the bank would probably accept that, but APCO refused to pay them anything. The bank, on principle, refused to give it to them, leaving the Greens, Shonavons, and Drinkwaters to go on managing the project until the dispute was settled.

It was at a meeting on Bob and July’s deck that the decision was finally made. “I guess,” Bob told them, “it’s time we decide if it’s worth staying here or just give up, call it quits and get out.”

Dale spoke up quickly, “We think we’ve been here too long now, there’s certainly no future here. I don’t know about the rest of you, but we’ve managed to save a little money. Let’s get out with our heads held high. We don’t feel we want to live under this pressure all the time.”

Bob looked at Bill; he cleared his throat. “Do we have any options, Bob?” he asked.

Bob knew he was fighting an uphill battle. “You’re right, Dale. There’s no use staying here under the present conditions. Either we take a chance and do something drastic, or we shut it down.”

“Don’t get us wrong, Bob.” It was Pearl Drinkwater who surprised everyone by speaking up. “We’ve fought long and hard here too. If there is an option, we’d like to hear about it.”

“There’s only one I can think of,” Bob told them, “and it’s a long shot. We know the name of the man who got Tom his funding. Now we don’t know the ins and outs of what was involved or what the terms were, but we could go to him and see what he says.”

They were silent for a moment. Finally, Dale said, “It is a long shot, but Tom did get some money.”

“I take it you mean the guy that Tom and I stopped to see in Bowling Green, Kentucky?” Bill asked. He pulled out a card, “Here it is, Jagwar Holdings. Ken Holmes is the guy’s name.”

“Yes,” Bob answered him. “That’s the guy we’d have to deal with.”

“Well,” July said, “it won’t hurt to ask. We all know APCO’s still putting drugs through here.”“Unless we can outright purchase the place, there’s no way any of us want to continue on here the way things are.”

They made contact with Ken Holmes and arranged a meeting.

They didn’t know that Holmes immediately informed Manly Waddell and Grundman of his new clients. Manly Waddell thought it over.

“Tell your buddy Grundman it’s all right if he takes them on,” he told Holmes. “That will put the last nail in their coffin.” Holmes then phoned Grundman and told him about the potential new clients.

“What does Waddell have to say about this?” He knew fucking well that Holmes had talked to him.

“Want me to talk to him?” Ken asked.

“All right, we’ll play it your way for now.” Grundman thought. “Ya, see if you can find out what’s going on over there.” Grundman’s voice sounded pleasant.

“So it’s okay if I take them on?” Ken asked.

“Sure, same terms, US$100,000, up-front in cash, 20 percent to be paid to you personally before you leave.”

“Okay, we’ll see what happens,” Ken told him and rang off.

“Whether they can come up with the money or not,” Holmes thought, “I’m going to milk this for all it’s worth.”

Bob, Bill, and Dale met with Holmes at his home in Bowling Green. “How much are you looking for?” Holmes asked them.

“Four million,” Bob told him.

“Do you have your business plan in place?” he asked. They told him they did.

“I’m just a broker,” he explained. “I have contracts with people looking to invest money around the world. What I do is present your plan to them. If someone accepts the plan or at least wants to know more about it, I will take you to see them at your expense, of course.” They gave Holmes a copy of their business plan, shook hands, and left. They all felt better than they had in a long while.

“Now we are back to waiting again,” Bob told them on the plane back to Andros Island.

The FBI had not only bugged Holmes’s phone, they had also bugged his house. They sat around a table analyzing the latest tapes, including the meeting between Holmes and three men from Andros Island.

“Well, at least this confirms what we have thought all along,” one agent said. “These guys wouldn’t be here looking for money if they were mixed up in the drug operation on Andros.”

“Maybe we should warn them to get the hell out of there,” another agent suggested.

“No,” Kent Ansly, the agent in charge, said thoughtfully. “We’re after kings here. Unfortunately, these guys are only pawns caught up in the game.”

A few days later, Holmes received a call from Grundman requesting Holmes to set up a meeting with Waddell in the Bahamas. “Okay,” Holmes said, his ideas of being a highly paid agent fast fading, “I can do that, but for Christ’s sake don’t tell him I give you all the information he tells me,” Holmes pleaded. He then got Manly on his cellular and told him about Grundman’s request.

“Tell Grundman next weekend would be fine,” Waddell told him. “There’ll be a room reserved for him. My car will pick him up at the airport.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him that and let’s keep us between ourselves,” Holmes pleaded

Manly didn’t answer. Holmes was left hanging with a dead line. He had the impression they hated each other, never thinking they would be meeting. He made a decision that he’d better protect himself. He gathered up what he thought to be pertinent documents along with some phone numbers and a letter with names. These were put into a safety deposit box at his bank. He left the key with his girlfriend if she didn’t hear from him on any given week she was to take the key to his lawyer and they were to open the box.

Grundman landed in Nassau on Saturday as arranged, and that night the same driver as before whisked him down darkened back streets to the warehouse. The room was much the same as Grundman remembered it, and Waddell was in his usual place behind a table at the far end of the room.

Grundman held out his hand; Waddell stood up and took it. Grundman was relieved; this time he didn’t have the powerful backing of the drug cartel but felt he came with his hat in hand. As for Manly Waddell, he had no idea why Grundman was here, but he also had a favor in mind so each showed mutual respect.

They both proceeded slowly, each feeling the other out until the conversation turned to Holmes. Here they were on common ground. They quickly determined that neither of them trusted Holmes, and the fact of the matter was that he knew too much.

“I have a man who can look after these matters,” Grundman told him.

Manly looked at him with surprise and a little more respect. “That would be appropriate,” he told Grundman. “I don’t want the cartel in on this. However, I need Holmes for a little while yet, and I need your help too,” Waddell told Grundman.

“That’s why I’m glad we’re having this meeting.” Now that the sparing was done, Grundman relaxed and listened as Waddell told him how he would get Holmes to set the deal up with Green and his friends, and then with Grundman’s help, they would finish them off.

“I want you to set Green up. You know, maybe a little cocaine in his possession. Whatever it takes, but just enough so he gets kicked out of the country. Can you handle that, Grundman?”

“Yes, I think that can probably be arranged. I’ll tell Holmes that I wish to meet with Green in Germany this next week,” Grundman told him. “Now,” he went on, “I have a request for you. I would like to move here to the Bahamas. I will need a visa and landed immigrant status until I’m eligible for citizenship.”

Waddell indicated that this would not be a problem. “I must explain a little more,” Grundman told him. “In Germany I have, and shall I say, a select group of friends.”

“A while ago we were having a bit of a party when the police raided the house. I was found in a compromising position with a young woman, a very young woman. Also, a large amount of drugs were found in the house. This girl has agreed to testify against me, and also against the woman by whom she was employed. This woman Lena K. will also need the proper documents to move here. However,” Grundman went on, “as you can see, this may make your task to have us accepted a little more complicated. I may add that money is not a problem.”