Fidel Best stared at his monitor but did not see any of the contents on display. The previous evening, he had met up with his mother-in-law to see Rosie, who was as energetic as ever. On their first meeting after Juliet had left him, Fidel had expected arguments with Millicent, but none happened. She had sat back quietly as Fidel played with Rosie and patiently waited. Millicent didn't volunteer any information about Juliet unless Fidel asked, but today was different. He had to finally face up to having a conversation about what had happened with Juliet but didn't even begin to know where or how to start. Millicent in her wise way had put him straight.
"So how is Juliet?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself young man?"
"I..I don't think she wants to speak to me. She hasn't tried to contact me at all...I.."
"But you haven't tried to contact my daughter either."
"But how can! I've been..."
"Too busy to try and find out *why* your wife, *my* daughter walked out on you?"
"Look we have been..."
Fidel, you are going to have to decide for once and all, which is the more important! Your job or your family!"
But..."
"Listen to me young man, and listen to me good. I'm not here to judge you or to tell you what you should do. That is between you and Juliet, but what I can tell you is this."
"You know Juliet's father was a police constable with the old force, and all the way through the changes that came when the French handed us back. Now as you know, Juliet has six sisters and two brothers and all we had apart from the very small wage from Dixon's work was our small holding..."
"But..."
"No! Let me finish! I have a *lot* to say so you had better open your ears to me young man! Like you, Dixon worked hard and got a promotion. Like you he worked all the hours of the day and night and I doubt Juliet saw any more of her father than Rosie does with you but, and here's the thing Fidel, that man never walked into our house without kissing each of his children and me first before anything else. Even though, *even* though we saw very little of him during the week, there was never a time when we did not feel loved. When he came home, he respected the fact I kept house, that I had the large part of raising his children, that my work was *as* important as his. I respected the fact he would need all of our support and patience, that his work was important too."
"Juliet knows this, which is why she was happy to marry you and accept the challenges that brings. But she *needs* to feel needed by you Fidel, she needs to feel that she counts for something in your marriage other than being just a baby farm for your genes and your housekeeper. Ever since your promotion she tells me she feels that you have changed, that she is no longer important to you now that you have started to climb that ladder. I'm not saying that it's how it is, I don't know as I'm not married to you. But whatever the situation, she feels you don't respect her. "
Millicent looked away for a moment, then cast her care worn face back at her son-in-law
"..and in case you are wondering, I've told my darling daughter to be more respectful of you too. You have both made the same mistake of not listening and not talking. If you want to remain happily married Fidel, I suggest you learn how to communicate as a person again, not as a policeman. Dixon knew when to take his hat off and leave it at the door when he came home. It didn't destroy his career and he always had a safe place of love to come back to because of it and I learned that if I was patient I would have a strong loving husband by my side. It's up to Juliet and you now."
Those words were still ringing around Fidel's head when he felt a sharp tap o his shoulder. He jumped a little and blinked hard, realising his eyesight was blurred by tears. Rubbing his eyes, Fidel looked up at Dwayne's intense gazed.
"You ok man?" Dwayne asked. It had shocked him to walk into the station to find Fidel staring blankly at nothing, with tears pouring down his face.
"Er, yes *cough*, I'm fine Dwayne, fine."
"I might not be the brightest police officer here Fidel, but I suggest you try a different answer, preferably a more truthful one..!"
Fidel had no choice and so gave in, feeling ashamed, but glad that the world did not end when he finally opened up to his older, wiser colleague and friend.
Richard pulled the Defender over to a clearing, needing to stop and think. That little tune was going off in his head which signalled it was all coming together, but instead of feeling elated he felt drained, his past haunting him yet again for all that justice would be done. Although Lily couldn't name names, it gave Richard enough information to be able to tie things together.
There was really only one person who would be capable of committing a murder in such a cool manner but who would have allowed their ego make them clumsy. There would be the inevitable reveal, but first there was a search and seize to arrange and for the first time in his posting here in Honoré, firearms to be issued to the few who were trained to use them. And God help the guilty person who murdered Martin Bayliss, because when Richard found out who one of the 'customers' were on that list, he knew they would not tolerate mistakes and not even the most sophisticated police force in the world could fully protect them.
Camille had finished copying downloads from the Bulmer Enterprises hard drive. She felt a stab of fear on seeing a couple of the names that came up after she hacked in to the encryptions on the data bases, as memories of a particularly horrific undercover operation that had spectacularly backfired, which got her team killed, including someone so dear to her heart, as well as landing Camille in hospital for the best part of three months.
Despite a commendation for bravery and service beyond the call of duty, she still felt she had badly let her team down and of course, there was some unfinished business that would have to be completed at some point.
Fidel and Dwayne were leaving the station as she had arrived to go on a patrol but she had noticed how tired and depressed Fidel was looking. Her mother had heard he and Juliet were having problems, but knowing how small island talk could spread and change, she had thought it prudent not to say anything. Her reverie was broken by Richard's voice calling over the radio.
"Base one from Poole…"
Camille answered the call. She was to contact the Commissioner then organise a stake out crew for a search and seizure come sundown. All were to be at the station asap for a briefing. With that, she picked up the phone and started dialling, her hands shaking a little as she did so.
Miguel Jose lightly dipped his finger into the opened package in front of him, drawing a tiny sample of the pure white powder that lay within. The stuff was pure grade and one bag would fetch hundreds of thousands on the streets alone, after it had been cut so many different ways. Once it was clear of Honoré, the business arm would shut down there as word had it the main go between had been killed. It was too late to divert but that would not pose too much of a problem. He had heard of course about the Brit cop who had done a lot of damage to the independent traffickers in the area, but he would not be too much of a problem to solve either. He looked up at his men.
"Good stuff, but after the transfer, we clean out and arrange a couple of accidents. Stephan, you deal with the witness in the prison there, we'll deal with the others. Honoré will be invoking Papa Legbah a lot in the next few days."
He smiled but with no sense of joy, just of reminding all in the room that smile had better be rewarded or suffer the consequences. A stare at his lieutenants had them scatter quietly from the room. They needed no second instruction.
Charge Nurse Casper Deloir flew past the nurses station to grab the emergency rescus trolley, not that it would do any good. He had felt her leave and knew she would not be back, but still they had to try. Tracey was ushering the next of kin into a side room while the team descended on the patient to commence crash procedures. After thirty minutes, Dr Adrian Rutherford called a halt as the ECG went from Ventricular Fibrillation into asystole.
Gillian Hyde-Bulmer was dead.
Christopher Laine was sweating, not just from the humidity but also from panic and fear. The shipment was arriving any second now, and he was to get it swapped and loaded as quickly as possible. He did try to warn the contacts that the police had been investigating and had gone over the books, but the reply was that in no uncertain terms was the shipment to be delayed.
The small cove where the exchange was to take place was well away from Honoré to the south of the island, a last minute change in venue. Laine had taken his time driving there, occasionally doubling back on side roads in order to ensure he wasn't being followed. The shipment was small enough to be stored in his Mitsubishi 4x4 and would be swapped for the empty containers he had in the back of the car.
Eventually, he saw a light appear in the cove and could hear the distant thrum of a boat engine of some size. The customers were not ones to use small sail boats, preferring large yachts to cruise in. He raised his hand and signalled back with his torch, but keeping out of sight as the vessel drew closer. It signalled back and Laine cautiously stepped out on to the beach, barely able to make out the shape of a smaller craft being launched. Laine signalled again as the launch drew closer and he made his way to the water's edge, noting there were about five or six dark clad figures in the launch. He backed up a little bit as the launch suddenly slid up the beach but froze as the figures stood up, one in particular had had no problem recognising.
"Don't move! Camille..."
Richard Poole waited until his task force climbed onto the beach. Behind him, Laine saw a Coast guard vessel come alongside the yacht.
"Christopher Laine, I am arresting you for smuggling illegal substances and contraband though Saunt-Marie..."
At that point, Laine stopped listening and placed his hands behind his back to be cuffed.
At the same time Martin Laine was being arrested, Lily Thompson was rolling around her cell in agony. Two wardens had heard her screaming and were trying to examine her when Lily suddenly froze, fitted and turned blue. Despite their best efforts, Lily never did get the chance to see the mountains one more time.
On an adjoining road by the prison entrance, Juliana Peters smiled as package was handed to her though a car window. She did not speak nor tried to look at whoever was passing her the package. She was pleased to administer a little justice of her own and make a small amount of cash in the process. She would celebrate the demise of the bitch who had arrested her Cyril and had sent him to an early grave to cover her own tracks. Walking off down the road, Juliana felt her grief lift at last.
