Saturday was actually the first day we had a chance to work on our tans. The weather had cleared and neither of us had any need or inclination to leave Hougomont. We slept late, worked on our tans, swam in the pool, walked on the beach, and took a very strenuous nap in the afternoon. We told each other it was so we would be refreshed in time for the dinner party. That was sort of true. After screwing each other ragged, we did get some real sleep.
While we were walking on the beach, a call came in and was picked up on the answering machine. A car would be sent around at half past seven. Drinks were at eight, and dinner was at nine. That was quite a bit later than Marilyn was used to, although I’ve always been more in tune with that schedule. At six, before we started getting ready, I cooked up a couple of hot dogs for each of us, to tide us over. We might be dining with the elites of the Bahamas, but around the house, we’re incredibly average.
Promptly at seven-thirty a black Lincoln drove up to the front of Hougomont. I was still working on my tie, but Marilyn was still trying to decide on which of the two dresses she was going to wear. She had bought a red number which I liked, and a blue outfit. I finally decided for her by suggesting she wear red tonight and blue next weekend in Washington. There was a knock on the door and Joe went to open it. A large black man was standing there in a dark suit. I glanced out a window and saw the Lincoln idling. I went to the foyer. “Hi, you’re here to take us into Nassau?”
“Yes, sir, to Government House,” he replied.
“Well come on in. Mrs. Buckman is going to be a few minutes. Unless you have lights and a siren on that thing, we’re going to be fashionably late.” I stepped out of the way and motioned him inside. I went over to a mirror and finished with my tie. I turned back to the driver, and asked, “You’ve taken people to these things before. Is this going to be all right?”
He looked at me and nodded. “That will be fine. Sir Lynden is not that formal.”
“Sir Lynden?”
“Sir Lynden Pindling, the Prime Minister.”
“Huh. He was knighted?” The driver nodded, and I said, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a knight before. Knowing my luck, I’ll spill my drink on him and end up in the dungeon.”
The driver smiled. “You’d better not spill your drink then.”
“I’ll just blame my wife. I presume they do that in the Bahamas, too.”
“I think they do that wherever they have husbands and wives, sir.”
I laughed and nodded. “I’ll hurry her up!”
Considering we were in police custody, so to speak, Joe and Marie were able to stay at Hougomont. I managed to hustle Marilyn out the door fifteen minutes later, and we made it to Government House almost on time. Nobody seemed to think this was a problem. We didn’t seem to be dressed improperly. The men were all wearing suits, although theirs were mostly darker, and the women were mostly wearing knee and calf-length dresses. Marilyn’s outfit was knee length, and had a V neckline that showed enough cleavage to keep a fellow interested. Our driver let us out of the car and pointed us up the walkway.
It was Assistant Commissioner Javier who found us coming in, and he did the introductions. It seemed like he had definitely risen in the ranks following the capture of the gang on Eleuthera. Well, that was fair enough. He had taken what could have been a very nasty publicity debacle and handled it quite nicely. There were about two dozen people there, but the only two I really paid any attention to were the Prime Minister and the U.S. Ambassador to the Bahamas, a political appointee of George Bush’s whose sole qualifications seemed to be that he had just lost his Senate seat to the Democrats but gave a lot of money to the Republicans.
The dinner was interesting. Both the Ambassador and the Prime Minister seemed curious about the billionaire who had managed to buy a deluxe oceanfront villa without anybody knowing he was there. Some of the other gossip was amusingly catty. It seemed that Sir Lynden was known among his countrymen as the “Father of the Nation”, the leader of the country since they gained their independence from Britain back in the Seventies. However, there had been a number of allegations about payoffs from South American drug cartels for allowing shipments through the country, and a recent audit of his accounts showed that he and his wife spent a whole lot more than they earned! Nobody in the Bahamas seemed to care, though, and he remained popular. I wondered what Javier thought about any of that.
The Ambassador, Chic Hecht, got me alone at one point and gave me some tips about living in Washington. He was actually one of those rare politicians who moved back home after his term in office was over. He had business dealings back in Vegas that he had wanted to stay involved in. That was as opposed to Andy Stewart, who had probably put his condo in Cockeysville on the market the day after the election.
Otherwise, we simply drifted around the room and talked to various Bahamian government flunkies and some people from the American Embassy. I gave everybody my standard litany of how much we liked it down here and how I was just a private citizen. A few of the Bahamians wanted to know about my investing in the local economy, perhaps loaning money. I countered by explaining we weren’t a bank, but only took equity positions in companies, and we didn’t know the local laws regarding that. Everybody promised to get back to me, and I promised (silently) to dump it on Jake Junior.
Over dinner I made a few comments to Prime Minister and to Ambassador Hecht along the lines that while I couldn’t imagine how a simple Congressman could help them in their work, they should feel free to call me after I was sworn in. I would do whatever I could to assist. What the heck, it didn’t hurt to be polite, and who knew, maybe I could help. No reason not to.
I did make one offer to Javier. I knew that the FBI has various law enforcement classes and training available to foreign police forces, and that this is often considered a useful and prestigious thing. Perhaps Congressman Buckman could help make arrangements for him or any of his fellow officers? That seemed very interesting to him.
One of the most interesting moments came when Ambassador Hecht managed to speak to me and maneuver me outside into a garden. He was subtle about it, but I picked up on it easily enough. “Congressman, I wanted a chance to speak to you without anybody overhearing us.”
“I noticed we were moving away from the others, Mister Ambassador. What’s on your mind?”
“Call me Chip…”
“Carl,” I responded.
“… Carl… Anyway, I just thought I should let you know that there is a very good chance that your house is now under Bahamian surveillance. I can’t be sure just how intrusive they will be, but I am sure that you will be watched, and your movements monitored. I just figured, you know, a word to the wise.”
I felt a cold lump growing in my stomach. “Why would they take that chance? It’s not like I’m an enemy, or the U.S. is an enemy. Are you sure about that?”
He shrugged. “No, but it is likely. You are an American Congressman. How do you even know that it’s the Bahamians doing it? Maybe a different foreign power is doing it. Who knows? You probably can’t do much about it, but forewarned is forearmed.”
I thought for a second. Earlier, Javier had said that he had contacted the property maintenance company and they had told him our plans. I was fairly certain that he would be the first call they made in the future, after we let them know when we would be arriving. I nodded slowly. “I have the funny feeling that if the Bahamians are doing it, my friend Assistant Commissioner Javier would be the one responsible. What’s he do, anyway?”