A Wanted Woman Part 20

I slid the veggie burger his way. I'd bought it so I didn't stand out.

He thanked me with a nod, then took a bite that devoured half the sandwich.

I said, "Just remember, I don't do Bajan time. I do on-time. Be glad it started raining."

"Can I eat first?"

"Eat. Not like I have anywhere to go. Still, I'm not one hundred percent comfortable."

I reached into my backpack, pulled out a Red Bull, opened it, and took a few sips before I said, "Now, swallow your burger and move on to our business. Let's start with the fireworks I need."

"I've checked on obtaining the artillery you wanted. Even with me contacting South America, going on the black market, and going face-to-face with the local dealers from Peru, obtaining all you want is still tough. You order hardware like that and people think you're planning a terrorist attack."

"Second item on my agenda. I need to know what Trinidad is up to. The LKs, need to know their location, especially if you can track War Machine and Appaloosa. Same for War Machine's wife."

"Diamond Dust. Mrs. Karleen Ramjit."

"You said that like you have the hots for her."

"I wouldn't kick her out of bed on a rainy day."

"Whatever." I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. "I need the top men tracked."

"War Machine. Appaloosa. Guerrero. Kandinsky."

"Plus King Killer. The five top dogs. One of them would be the team leader."

"And the wife as well."

"The wife. The way you said that, what does that mean?"

"People say she is a regular Rajo Verma. A modern-day Draupadi."

"Is that true? In the videos they had posted online, in all the newspaper articles about that organization, she comes across as being family oriented, dedicated to only her husband, War Machine."

"Rumor is all the main men are eating in one house, so to speak. Not all at once. She has a lot of Princess Di in her blood, and Princess Di was a wild one, a freak who made infidelity look chic. They say that Mrs. Karleen Ramjit is the same way, and many women secretly applaud her supposed lifestyle."

"Rumors. I need facts."

"Lots has been said over the years, but nothing proven."

"Give me a fact."

"The men have studied the killing style of Dole Chadee. You know about Chadee?"

"Some, not a lot."

"Chadee was a Trini, the notorious leader of a ruthless gang of men who were heavily involved in the drug trade. Suspects in more than a few unsolved murders. The LKs are like him, never seen in public other than immaculately dressed in well-fitting suits, hair slicked down, sometimes wearing dark shades, accompanied by armed bodyguards."

"That sounds like War Machine and his crew."

"One girl spoke out against the LKs, made claims about Diamond Dust's lifestyle, about her having multiple husbands, and she was found burning on a cross in a park over there. Burning alive. When they went to notify the girl's family, they opened the door to the house and found her ten family members had been executed. Take the LKs out of the equation and I'll bet the murder rate in Trinidad drops significantly."

"Chadee is dead, right?"

"Rumor is, and yes this is another rumor, when Chadee and eight of his top men were executed-"

"How was he put to sleep? How do they do it down here?"

"Old-school. They used a rope and hanged them until their feet stopped kicking."

"Nine hangings."

"Not all at once. They hanged them all over a weekend-three on Friday, three on Sat.u.r.day, and three the following Monday. They say that on Tuesday, Karleen De Lewis-aka Mrs. Ramjit, aka Diamond Dust-was born, and the morning she was born she inhaled her first breath and took in the wandering spirit of Chadee. She took a breath and the spirit of the Laventille Killers was born. Some say she is Chadee reincarnated, which I think is bulls.h.i.t, but a good urban legend. But I know this: with Chadee out of the way, two decades later Diamond Dust and War Machine were able to move in, to start their revolution, to pick up the drug business left behind by Chadee, a business that never ends. Only, they were smarter."

"They hang murderers in Trinidad. That's crude."

"That would be kinder than what the LKs would do if they found you first. They'd make you beg to be hanged. The girl they burned alive, she was sixteen, and she was pregnant for one of the guntas."

I sipped the last of my Red Bull, looked outside; then my eyes came back to Black Jack.

I commanded him, "Find out where the LKs are. I need to know. My trail should be cold. Should be frozen. Maybe that's the reason the Barbarians have stopped supplying intel."

"But you need to be sure. Hacker is trying to crack into their systems and pull intel."

"Obviously Hacker is an amateur."

"She's the best hacker up at UWI, and that's every UWI in the islands."

"Black Jack, the intel is important. If that's the best that Hacker can do, find someone else. If Trinidad comes this way, be it LK or law enforcement, I need to know long before they arrive and put a toe in this sand. I'm an hour away from a country that wants me dead. They could ride a Jet Ski over here."

"You're all wound up for a fight. When was the last time you slept?"

"I haven't had good sleep since before Trinidad. Not much since Florida."

"What happened in Florida?"

"Not your concern."

It started to rain again. Umbrellas went up. Not many. Few sought shelter. It was one of those days when it rained for ten minutes, then stopped for ten, would do that into the night. People were used to this. Many kept walking like it was a sunny day, puddles be d.a.m.ned. Something else was different. Women didn't freak out about their hair getting wet. If this had been Atlanta, if a drop of water had touched their hair, real or over-the-counter, Southern women would have been screaming like the Wicked Witch of the West when she had been hit with a bucket of water, that or running like they were on fire.

I said, "Can you help me escape? Pa.s.sports. Traveling doc.u.ments. You look old enough. You could pretend to be my dad and we could exit this rock like we're going to a family retreat."

"Can't. I'll help you while you're here, but I can't afford to put myself or any contact I know in jeopardy by doing something that would have the Barbarians doing a blackout. But if you made it north and landed on Providence Island I could get you on a mail boat and tuck you away at one of the safe spots at Mangrove Cay, Fresh Creek Andros, or Great Harbour Cay. No one would find you there."

I tapped my fingers on the table, stopped, and said, "Keep me posted on Trinidad."

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask whatever you want, but don't expect an answer."

He said, "How many were on your team for the a.s.sa.s.sination at the bank?"

"Three."

"Three?"

"Me, myself, and I."

"Team of one. They sent you over there to do that job by yourself."

"When you're schizophrenic, you're never alone."

"A politician with a gun in a bank. My mind can't process that."

"It didn't start out that way. Won't say what, but there was another plan from the night before that fell through. Things went bad and the bank was the only moment left to make it happen."

"I have an issue with the bank deal. A politician walked into a crowded bank with a gun."

I said, "A murder happens in Trini every seventeen hours. That island is the go-between for drugs leaving South America for Europe and North America. The smugglers bring the guns, then when the drugs are on their way, they leave the heavy artillery behind and return home. The man knew how it was inside his country. He was afraid and was armed. Maybe he wanted to act like he was an LK."

"I saw the video. He fired on you before you fired on him."

"Was off my game. I had been drugged."

"He still fired on you before you fired on him."

"I just do what I am told to do. I go by the game plan laid out before me."

"Okay, question about this urban legend. Is there really a man behind red doors?"

"I can't comment on that. Not supposed to comment on Barbarian business, Black Jack."

"They left you in need of money. They're a big corporation. Makes no sense."

"Change the theme of this conversation."

"Keep a woman broke, keep her under control. Give her just enough to get by. She won't starve to death, but she'll never be able to afford to leave. That's from the handbook on how to be a pimp."

"Sounds like it's from the handbook on how to be an effective husband."

"Same handbook that has been handed down from generation to generation."

I asked, "Anything else? Or are you going to eat my food and find more ways to call me stupid?"

"The politician had two men guarding him. They had been with him every step of the way, day and night. Why didn't his armed men come inside, or at least stand outside the door and wait?"

"Hard to ask a dead man why he dropped his guard and did something stupid. I a.s.sumed he wanted all the publicity for himself, didn't want to be seen on camera with the LKs, same for the priest."

"That's dumb. They didn't get to the level they're on that fast by being stupid."

I let a moment pa.s.s before I said, "Give me all of your thoughts, your conclusion."

"Thought you wanted me to change the subject."

"Actually, I wanted you to shut up, then you called me stupid and dumb."

"Far from. I respect you and think you have b.a.l.l.s and are good at what you do. Especially after that bank thing in Trini. Any other hired gun would have been on the bank floor dead."

"Barely remember any of it. Told you, I had been drugged."

"How?"

"Not important. But I had been drugged the night before."

"I would have been f.u.c.king dead. In this area, I'm a house painter sitting down with Pica.s.so."

"Okay. Thanks. I'm not Pica.s.so, but thanks for considering me competent."

He took a deep breath. "I'm going to be late for my next meeting."

"Money by the time the sun drowns itself, otherwise lose my contact information."

He took out his phone and showed me a picture of a young boy.

I asked, "That's him?"

He nodded, then showed me another photo, that one of a young girl.

I asked, "Her too?"

He nodded. "Both of them. She first. Then he."

I sat back. Wanted no part of this, but I needed the cash.

He asked, "You have the stomach for it?"

"Worry about the funds. By the time the sun drowns in the ocean is your deadline."

He looked at his cellular, had a perplexed expression.

I asked, "What's the problem?"

"Do dead people have access to Facebook?"

"I doubt it. Why?"

"Why do people write messages to dead people on Facebook?"