Bahamian Rhapsody

Nassau. Bahamas.-1

Nassau. Bahamas.Guy Tresanton looked around the harbour and then across to Paradise Island, totally dominated by the huge Atlantis hotel complex. In his view, the hotel was anything but a paradise. He saw it as a Disneyland monstrosity imported brick by brick from the Caribbean. Guy, A tall Englishman in his late forties, his fair hair blowing carelessly in the wind, covered his eyes as he stared across from his yacht "Hidalgo". A year ago he had involuntarily given up his place in the corporate rat race to sail in the Caribbean. Although not quite the idyllic existence he had expected, he had come to treat the yacht as his natural home. He yearned for the open sea with no company except the crashing waves and the odd whale. Alas economic imperative dictated that he engage customers to charter one of the two yachts that he and his partner ran together. Rose was a small feisty Chinese girl who had been through a great deal with him last year; their lives continually at risk as they had became embroiled in a hunt for the fabled lost treasure of Christopher Columbus. Indeed they had both experienced uncanny parallels, both had lost their fathers prematurely, both suffered from vivid dreams verging on nightmares that often produced significant insight. The dreams invariably featured an old Chinese man with a haunting face, known as The Teacher who had sworn eternal revenge after his dramatic loss of the Columbus Cross.

Bonded through conquering adversity, and partners both in business and friendship, the last months had been blissful as they focussed on their sailing company. "Hidalgo" was Guy’s pride and joy, a forty two foot Northerly yacht, one of a limited edition built at the company’s shipyards in the south of England. They had used the reward money from finding the Columbus Cross to purchase a second Northerly yacht called "The Yellow Dragon" with Rose as skipper and employing two local lads as crew. They had named their joint company Pegasus Charters. Although Rose was Chinese born she was an American citizen. Guy called her Viper, a backhanded allusion to her tenacity. In response she dubbed him The Bear on account of his black dog days, as he called them. For four months they had steadily grown the business, primarily appealing to the grey market of older American couples looking for a little adventure as they entered their fifties and sixties.

It had been a brief idyll, too brief! Guy and Rose had started to relax and enjoy themselves and that was when it all started to unravel. Long booked hires had started to cancel and even repeat customers called to apologize. They began to suspect they were being targeted and undermined by an unscrupulous rival. It had now deteriorated even further. Inexplicably their most regular customer had cancelled the previous week leaving them with nothing for the coming two weeks. There was something going on but what? Guy had asked the latest client to cancel, a middle aged Pennsylvanian banker named Andrew Scott, why he had cancelled. They were shocked to be told that he had been threatened with violence if he used Guy’s charter service. He mentioned a man called Sparrow based in the Bahamas and agreed to meet with them there.

It was a start, even though Sparrow was probably only a middle-man for someone else. Guy quickly made his mind up; something had to be done to salvage the business. They returned to the St Lucia base where Guy owned a small two bedroom flat next to the marina. There arranged for the "Yellow Dragon" to be lifted out of the water and put her into storage. Like "Hidalgo", the "Dragon" was a British built Northerly class yacht almost identical except six feet shorter and two feet narrower. Also like "Hidalgo" she had a retractable keel and the latest in electronic control technology.

Rose was an accomplished sailor and had been mortified to see the yacht high and dry on land. She had been intending to train at Police College when she’d met Guy and found her own life’s mysteries quite sufficient to cure her of any desire to solve those of others. A practical girl above all else, she remembered little of her time in China. A teenager at the time, to her eternal regret she struggled to remember her natural parents who had been killed there. Brought up in Chicago by her Aunt Beatrice, a distant relative who was now happily retired and taking care of Guy’s Uncle Blackie, in his dotage.

"Hidalgo" had sailed like a dream northwards in benign weather through the natural seaway between the main Bahamian islands. They anchored off the side of the main town that gave an uninterrupted view of Paradise Island and the Atlantis Hotel monstrosity. Wearing shorts and sailing jackets, they rarely wore anything else, they met Andrew who was waiting nervously for them in a waterfront bar next to the Pirate Museum. It overlooked the sumptuous mansion of Government House, once the home of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. Andrew was a short nervous looking man in his mid fifties and sat facing them looking around agitatedly as if expecting trouble. “They told me you were both under investigation by the police for drug running,” he stammered. “Drug running!” exclaimed Guy. How could they have known about the period in his life when he had carried many cargoes, possibly and unknowingly including drugs?

He squirmed in his seat; there was only one person in the police who knew about that. Grasshopper a corrupt police sergeant from St Lucia who he had helped put behind bars. “What kind of drugs?”

“They just said drugs. Sparrow said he could get me a much better deal and that I would be making a fatal mistake to use you.”

“Where is this Sparrow?”

“Over there at the marina on Paradise Island,” said Andrew pointing across the narrow water way to a gleaming collection of yachts. “You can see his office there,” he said pointing to a small but prominent hut at the far end. “What does he look like?” asked Rose. “Big man with yellow shirt and Dolphins baseball hat.”

“I don’t care what he has or does, he’s threatening our livelihood,” growled Guy.

“Get him to back off and I’ll hire you again,” said Andrew rising. “You know how much my wife and friends enjoyed your company.” They thanked him for his help and rose to leave. “Come on Rose we have work to do,” said Guy grimly.

They took a taxi across the large bridge to a rich man’s playground. They could see the huge gleaming yachts bobbing at anchor to their right as they drove over the bridge and turned down towards the marina. “Bit different to St Lucia,” said Guy as they pulled to a halt. “Horrible,” agreed Rose “Money but no souls, for God’s sake look at that monstrosity there.” She pointed. “Some rich man’s plaything.”

“More like a submarine than a yacht,” replied Guy looking at the strange curved lines, single steel mast and powerful dual engines; the name etched on the side was "The Thor". “She’s ugly but streamlined and probably fast, very fast,” he continued as they walked across to the marina. A huge gleaming white cruiser at anchor towered above them to their right as they reached the pontoons. Ahead lay two small wooden offices, both advertised Charter services, only one had an occupant a huge rough looking man with bright yellow floral shirt complete with oil stains. "Sparrow,” whispered Rose. “Let me handle this, he looks the sort who will hit first and think later,” Guy told her. “Hey man you looking for a charter?” The big man called out. “Possibly,” replied Guy reaching the small hut. “We’ve heard of a small charter company down in St Lucia called Pegasus Charters? Do you know them?”

“Don’t touch them.”

“Why not?”

“Low cost outfit, better stick to the big boys.”

“They’ve been recommended to us,” said Guy trying to keep his voice level. “We will need a better reason than that not to use them.”

“Drugs man,” Sparrow looked around conspiratorially and beckoned him

Closer.

“Drugs?”

“They run drugs from Venezuela, dangerous high grade stuff.”

“Who told you all this?” demanded Guy. “Common waterfront gossip,” replied Sparrow coldly. “Your lucky day, meeting me saved you from an embarrassing experience. Sparrow's my name, here” He handed over a glossy picture of the gleaming fifty foot schooner they had just passed. “Can take you on that for same price as the Pegasus outfit, sure you’ll agree she’s a much nicer craft and there’s an added benefit.”

“What sort of benefit?”

“Half price on a cruise of your choice for two.”

“Who owns her,” asked Guy calmly despite his rising anger. “Someone has to have a lot of money to do this.”

“A company who do specialist cruises around the world, they also throw in extras like free health assessments.”

“What’s the company’s name,” asked Guy, looking at the glossy brochure with a sinking feeling. They couldn’t compete with this sort of financial muscle. “Oleson cruises, a Norwegian company. They’re big in Europe and soon Asia, now it’s our turn.”

“Sounds Scandinavian, do they own that submarine-like monstrosity over there called "The Thor?”

“Don’t know who owns her,” replied Sparrow coldly.

“Prices?”

“Here,” announced the big man flourishing a second sheet. “The costs are higher than Pegasus,” said Rose coming over and scanning the papers. “I can match their costs,” replied Sparrow. “We’ll stick with Pegasus,” said Guy turning away, there was little else to learn here. “I wouldn’t do that man.” The big man growled. “You seem pretty sure of these drug accusations.”

“Inside information,” said Sparrow tapping his nose knowingly. “I’m doing you a favour, a big favour.”

“Come on Guy.” said Rose. “We’ll think about your offer Mr Sparrow.” They walked back up the pontoon. “I bet he hangs out with a rough bunch, we’ll follow him tonight,” whispered Guy. “For some reason Oleson Cruises are trying to elbow us out and resorting to dirty tricks. We’ve too much to lose to allow this to happen.”

Darkness descended quickly, its effect partly offset by the bright lights from the nearby hotel complex. Waterfront traffic was sparse as Guy and Rose launched their inflatable and rowed slowly across to the marina area back towards Sparrow's office leaving the outboard motor primed and ready. They came ashore quietly, both in their heavy sailing waterproof jackets. There was still a light burning inside as they quickly tied up the inflatable. Guy beckoned Rose to duck down as they saw the yellow clad figure of Sparrow emerge and slam the door. He headed across the road to a pub called the Green Pirate. They moved forward slowly keeping to the shadows reaching Sparrow's office in the kiosk just as the big man entered the pub. “Come on,” hissed Guy pulling a balaclava down over his face as they made their way stealthily forward.

The office was locked so Guy smashed the small glass side window and reached inside to release the main catch. Minutes later they were inside, the room was messy and stank. Quickly they looked around but there was little except brochures and some stale tobacco. “There’s nothing here,” said Guy disappointedly. “Come on.” Across the road they entered the pub with their hats pulled down and saw Sparrow sitting in the far corner next to a large ox of a man. “Where shall we sit?” asked Rose staring into the gloom. "There’s an adjacent booth over there,” pointed Guy keeping his head down. “We can overhear them from there.” They walked quickly across and entered the small booth. As they sat down Guy signalled to the waitress for two beers. They listened-in to Sparrow who was talking to another man even bigger than himself, and who spoke with a heavily accented voice they didn’t recognise, similar to German, definitely European. “You scared them away?” The man said. “The drugs stuff usually works.”

“Pegasus has to go out of business.”

“Who have they upset Max?

“Not our business to ask questions, just stick to what you are doing.”

“It makes no sense; Oleson cruises are in a different league so why do they need to worry about a few hicks in St Lucia.”

“Pegasus has powerful enemies Sparrow; you don’t need to know more,” spat the man taking a drink. “Now I’m very busy, so just do your job.”

“Teacher, it has to be,” whispered Guy to Rose as the European man left, “his footprint's all over it, Christ we are in trouble.”

“Said he would destroy us,” replied Rose morosely.

“Grasshopper is also capable of this sort of thing,” replied Guy. “We need Monty’s help, come on we’ve heard enough.” They walked out not noticing the quizzical look from a fair-haired man.

Monty’s familiar voice boomed over "Hidalgo's" satellite phone. “So how’s the charter business?” Recently promoted to Chief Inspector on the island of Bermuda he had worked closely with Guy and Rose on the Columbus Cross case and had promised to help them if needed. “That’s the reason for the call.” Guy came straight to the point. Monty owed them both a great deal for rescuing the Columbus and Tucker Crosses when the valuable artefacts had been stolen. In his late fifties his habit of chewing on his old pipe was an iconic symbol and much mimicked. Today was no exception as he sat in his Hamilton office in Bermuda frowning into the telephone. “The word is we are running drugs,” replied Guy. “I need to know whether Grasshopper is behind it.”