Ringo grabbed her by the throat with both hands and broke her neck.
He let her body drop and said, “She threatened you. I will not allow that.”
Marc looked at the dead woman and felt…nothing. He said, “It was needed.”
Ringo said, “I will take care of the body. I want no one else to know.” He picked Malice up under one arm and went through the kitchen, stopping to get a long sharp knife. He walked into the back yard, disappearing behind the shrubbery shielding a small plot of fruit trees.
Marc poured himself a drink and thought about everything. When he finished the second drink, he poured a third, and one for Ringo. Taking both drinks, he walked into the back yard and noticed the thread of smoke beyond the shrubs, the area where they burned tree limbs and landscaping refuse. When he walked around the shrubbery, he saw the fire and Ringo nearby, sitting crossed-legged under a tree laden with green oranges.
Ringo held Malice’s cooked arm in both hands, eating the meat from it like one eats an ear of corn. The knife was beside him on the grass, and Marc saw the rest of Malice’s dismembered body cooking over the flames.
Marc put Ringo’s drink beside his friend, and then sat down under the orange tree. He said, “No one will ever find out what happened to her.”
Ringo chewed, swallowed, and said, “No one. I will eat all of our mother. If I throw up, it will be in a hole in the ground that I will cover, and then I will eat more, until it is all gone. Her bones I will burn until black and brittle. I will break those bones to small pieces and mix them with feed for the swine across town.
Marc sipped his drink and Ringo did the same. Marc said, “I think we should keep her skull.”
“For her power?”
“Yes, don’t you?”
“I like the idea. I’ll take care of it.”
Marc patted his friend on the shoulder as he rose, “You always do.”
~*~
When the end to their good fortune came, it was swift and happened to other criminals in multiple homes all across the country. Marc had anticipated it a week before, but the new forces in power, backed by the U.S. government, hit the banks and organizations faster than he expected. In the matter of a single day, they lost their fortune, their home, and learned of the arrests of all who worked for them as buffers between them and the Columbians.
It was time to go. Marc and Ringo gathered their passports and a few things as police broke down the front doors. They slipped out the back, through the back yard and to a car they always kept parked on a nearby street. Marc drove north in a hurry to the harbor at Port de Paix. That day they sailed from Haiti to Florida. When they arrived in Miami, they had the boat, nine hundred U.S. dollars between them, and a human skull in a sport bag.
Chapter 6
Hunter drove to work the next morning feeling so good she was almost giddy. At the office, lots of thumbs-ups and handshakes for her and Andre. When they left to go to work, Hunter said, “Can we go by and thank Dessaline?”
“Sounds good to me.” He drove and they made slow time because of the traffic, but arrived at Dessaline’s office an hour later. Marc was by the assistant’s desk, his back half turned to them, working with something in his hands. He looked momentarily surprised, then wrapped the object in a red cloth and placed it on a nearby cabinet before turning and smiling. “A pleasant surprise,” He said. Marc led the two Agents into his office.
The first thing Hunter did was look around the room for Ringo Bazin. Dessaline said, “Ringo is not here. I am alone in the office today.”
Hunter said, “I didn’t want him to spook me again.”
“I’m sure it was unintentional.”
“I’m sure,” Hunter said.
Andre said, “We wanted to thank you for your help in locating Villard. I don’t know that we could have found him so quickly, otherwise.”
Dessaline said, “I’m glad I could help in some small way.”
Hunter said, “It was a big way, don’t sell yourself short.”
He sat behind his desk and said, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
On a whim, Hunter said, “One of the people off the ship, a woman, was poisoned while she was in Krome. You have any idea who could have done it, or what type of poison could kill someone in minutes?”
“I’m not sure why you think I would have that sort of knowledge. Are you accusing me of something?”
“Not at all. You know so much about Haitians and their culture, I thought you might have an idea.” Hunter thought he looked, well, a little pissed.