The Cayman Islands were colonized sometime around 1734 by the British, the records not being exact, and before becoming a separate British colony in 1959, the island government was a dependency of the Jamaican colony, and as recently as 1962, it had maintained status as part of the Federation of the West Indies.
With but a hundred square miles of land, the island population was crowded at twelve hundred permanent residents, and during peak holiday seasons, when the big cruise ships brought in the tourists and the grandiose sea-hugging hotels were full to bursting, the island could hardly bear the burden of people.
Jessica was disappointed that they’d seen no sailing vessel that might approximate the one they were looking for, but it made sense. They were a day ahead of the sailing vessel now, despite its having had a six-hour head start on them. Then again, perhaps nature had taken its vengeance on Tauman; perhaps he was floating hundreds of feet below the surface somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico where his ship had gone down in bad weather. One could only hope, but such a death was too good for the man. Perhaps, Jessica mused, there was no death other men could design that was not too good for him.
She would inquire when she arrived at George Town, the capital of the Cayman Islands, if there had been any reports of ships in distress in the Caribbean Sea, the Yucatan Channel or the great Gulf.
They were within sight of George Town now and she saw banners strung across one port, perhaps there to welcome an incoming cruise ship that they’d witnessed easing toward the island at what appeared to be the pace of a snail. Yet the floating building with its Norwegian markings had moved surprisingly far by the time they’d turned into the wind to make their final approach, Lansing having studied the air currents to make his determination.
He was a good pilot; Jessica silently congratulated herself at having found him back in Tampa, but she was too busy admiring the island below to verbalize her good fortune. From up here, the entire island blinked with white houses and orange-tiled roofs.
Earlier, Jessica had asked Don Lansing to radio ahead to have authorities meet them at the airport, specifically Ja Okinleye, if possible. The tower at the quaint little airstrip below had radioed back that their message had been forwarded to the “correct Royal authorities.” Now aligned with the airport in the distance, one single, long black strip and a small building in typical British Isles architecture, they quickly descended under the assault of the wind at the nose of the ship.
Jessica asked Lansing to again radio ahead to ask for the chief investigatory officer, Ja Okinleye, to meet them at the airport, and it was relayed back to them that Okinleye had been contacted. Now Lansing told them to ready for landing as he got his final clearance, although at such a late moment in the landing that he could only laugh and wryly reply, “Thanks, guys!”
The approach was smooth and effortless, despite a brisk, buffeting wind which threatened havoc. Lansing laughingly said, “The wind’s a funny animal, like Huey, Dewey and Louie: You never know what they’re going to give you.”
“ Sounds like a Gumpism to me,” said Santiva in the rear.
“ Call it a Donism,” Lansing replied.
Out her small side portal, Jessica could see an official- looking vehicle with a Cayman Island flag on each front bumper and two officers in dress whites-which amounted to long pants in this subtropical heat-standing nearby. One appeared to be Okinleye. In a moment the tiger-striped plane bounced shakily on and along the runway, their speed decreased to nil and they turned to taxi onto a side strip.
Moments later, they deployed from the plane directly onto the asphalt, where Ja Okinleye personally met them, his hand extended in a warm gesture of greeting. “Dr. Coran! It is a wonderment to see you, and we are so pleased to have you back with us again in our paradise.”
“ I wish we were just here to enjoy your paradise, my friend.” Jessica saw that Okinleye’s man had gone directly to the plane, ostensibly to see to their bags but with an obvious eye to any cargo aboard. Finding neither cargo nor bags, he was stumped, so he raised both shoulders to his smiling boss.
Jessica turned to Santiva, who had weathered the trip well by sleeping much of the way, and added for Ja’s benefit, ‘ ‘This is Chief Eriq Santiva, the man I work for nowadays, Ja.”
“ I am so pleased to make with your acquaintance, sir.” Okinleye looked about for their bags as he vigorously shook Santiva’s hand. “My aide, Kili, he will see to your bags. Where are you staying, my friends?”
“ ‘ Fraid we haven’t any bags, Ja,” confessed Jessica, a frown puckering her lips, “only what’s on our backs. We left in something of a hurry.” Jessica noticed the pained expression on Don Lansing’s face. “And as for reservations… well, we have none.”
“ Oh, not good… it is the height of the season… You will then stay with me and my family in my humble abode?”
“ We couldn’t put you out, Ja.”
“ Please, it is not a bother.”
“ Well… first things first,” said Santiva. “Have you had any word or inkling on the approach of this boat we’re chasing?”
“ No, none whatsoever. I only hope you are correct in assuming he will be corning this way.”
“ We’re ahead of him, Eriq, but he’ll be along,” Jessica assured Santiva and Ja Okinleye at the same time.
Ja smiled and said in a mirthful tone, “Is that what your instincts tell you?”
“ Yes… yes, it is. That and the difference between nautical miles and air flight.”
“ Well then, Chief Okinleye,” Eriq interrupted, swallowing hard, “maybe we’ll take you up on that offer of hospitality, after we stop at one of your local stores to pick up a few essentials?”
“ Not a problem. We will drive you to wherever you need go, right, Kili?” The silent, uniformed Kili eagerly nodded.
With this settled, Jessica turned to Don Lansing and thanked him for his help, paying him three times what his normal fee would have been. He stared at the cash as if it meant an operation for his kid sister or dog, his eyes sparkling. “Maybe this’ll help me make that commitment we talked about.”
She gave him a crooked smile. “I rather doubt it.”
“ This kind of dough… you sure you don’t want me to hang around for a flight back, maybe?”
“ What I’m going to need here is a helicopter, and I think Okinleye will point us in the right direction for that. Again, many thanks for getting us here so quickly, Don.”
“ Don’t mention it; my pleasure.”
“ You heading straight back?”
“ Yeah… my boss-partner-is going to be wondering what’n hell happened to me and his plane, so I’d better move it, yeah…”
Jessica, Santiva and Okinleye rushed now for the waiting official car which would take them from the broiler plate of the asphalt. It must be one hundred thirty degrees in the shade, she thought. A glance back showed Jessica that pilot Lansing still could not believe he had been a part of all this. Maybe the little Cayman Island flags on Ja’s official car were too much for him, she mirthfully thought.
TWENTY-TWO
Appearances are not held to be a clue. to the truth. But we seem to have no other.
“ So, now it has become a game of cat and de mouse, hey?” Okinleye asked Jessica and Santiva where they sat across from one another at his backyard patio table. There, they enjoyed a view of the ocean in the distance, the sun, the hibiscus trees, the birds chasing one another, the trade winds and the bright orange daiquiris which Ja’s wife, Aliciana, had just prepared for them. The Okin- leyes” home was, by island standards, a Grecian mansion, but Ja laughed uproariously when Jessica made mention of its grandeur.