Chapter Two

  Clarity headed north, then East, on route 112, towards a news shop called Remiggio's on Carlyle Avenue, at the corner of 92nd street, on Star Island, the man made island of Miami Beach and South Beach. After a twenty minute drive, she parked the car a few feet away from the shop. Following instructions from Lloyd, Clarity stepped off the car and walked in the news and gift shop, which was doing business right next to a liquor shop. She came face to face with the owner, who was placing a few magazines on their shelf.

  "A copy of the Cayman Gazette, please," said Clarity.

  "You with Lloyd?"

  "Yes," said Clarity.

  "Which issue?"

  Clarity looked at the piece of paper Lloyd had given her. There was a number on it, and a few words written, additional details about what she had to get.

  "Regular issue, number 26, it's a recent one. Also one of the supplements, extraordinary issue number two this year."

  The man reached under the counter and pulled out a stack of sheets, giving them to Clarity.

  "It's all loose-leafed?" Asked Clarity. She ensured all the pages of the first document were there. The publication was not printed on paper, it was printed at Remiggio's because there were only electronic copies available. The gift shop owner charged ten bucks, six to find the gazette and the supplement, and four to print the issue and to pay for the cost of the paper. Clarity took out a ten dollar bill and handed it to the owner.

  "Some people have been inquiring about who is reading this publication, people who work for Mr. Di Laure." Clarity was caught off guard, then recovered her trail of thought.

  "I see, all right, I'll let Lloyd know, thanks. I'll just take a look at this for a second."

  She moved towards the beverage cooler, and placed the pages of the documents on a flat area. The first page of the publication caught her attention. The Cayman Islands Gazette was the official newspaper of the government of the Cayman Islands. It was published fortnightly, so every two weeks. At the bottom, a small print text mentioned a few additional things. Government notices are to be given at the Office of the Gazette three days before publication. Clarity looked closely at the contents listed on the first page. They included commercial notices, things like liquidation notices, bankruptcy notices, transfer of companies, general appointments, court of appeal notices, public auctions, and some other local notices. The supplemental issue had specific names of companies or groups which had decided to go ahead with voluntary liquidation, a particular procedure put in place when a company went bankrupt. She grabbed all the pages and walked back to the car. Closing the door, he gave the pack of sheets to Lloyd and sat in the driver's seat.

  "Here it is," said Clarity. Lloyd took a brief look at the stack of sheets.

  "The guy at the counter said some people are looking for the person who is reading this, people working for Mr. Di Laure," said Clarity.

  "All right, good job. Yeah, those guys are a bit annoying, you're going to tell my boss about that. This is going to allow you to move some work time off your crashworthy agreement."

  Clarity held on to the wheel, looking for the keyhole to insert the car key. The crashworthy agreement, was not so much of an agreement. She'd signed it in Cayman, in order to leave that shady bank called Lofty Bank, where she was just asking or requesting some information on investment opportunities that were reaching the non trivial number of twenty percent a year.

  "I have some issues with the agreement. It's kind of long term," said the Malibu teleoperator.

  "You saw the place under Lofty Bank, in Cayman, right? You met Barney Rapple, the salesperson?"

  "Yes, a friend and I got there in a golf cart."

  "Then, if you know about the golf carts, you are with Lofty, for a few decades, and you may end up working with Rapple at the bank. Or with some of the golfers who have invested with crashworthy."

  Clarity turned on the engine of the car and drove away. She took the opportunity to ask Lloyd an additional question.

  "Is that sort of true? That something in the order of fifteen hundred golfers disappeared through Lofty?" The foreign exchange clerk shook his head.

  "No, not completely, they chose to work with Lofty, or to have Lofty as their advisor. They are living in several golf resorts, places which are not a bad place to be. They bring money to Lofty."

  Clarity followed the road signs to the Keys. A golf resort did sound like a pleasant place. The question was more like, what exactly did those people do, for Buddha Talk, in order to be there. They drove south, past the areas of Glenvar Heights, Pinecrest, Kendall, and Homestead, taking highway one to Key Largo. Clarity followed the coastal road, to a beautiful residential area in Tavernier, a place with exclusive properties. Lloyd gave Clarity a few indications, and told her to stop in front of a large metal gate on Channel Cay Road.

  "This is Swankeye, the property of Mr. Buddha Talk."

  Clarity saw the initials SW listed atop the metal gate, reminiscent of a ranch. Lloyd made a quick phone call and turned to the Malibu operator.

  "You can just step off the car, the transportation arrangement ends here. Keep the cap, someone will be with you when you ring the bell to bring you inside. Give Mr. Buddha Talk the copy of the Gazette. He's getting a visit today, I believe, a lady. He's been looking for some information for the past few months. He wants to know who blew the whistle on federal bonds that he owned, which his pilot was holding a few months ago, after a brief visit of the pilot to Miami from the Bahamas."

  Clarity walked out of the car, stepping towards the gate with her copy of the Gazette in her hand, while the car of Lloyd drove away. She was slightly altered, remembering that her friend Flower had suggested taking one million dollars worth of Federal bonds, from the safe of Buddha Talk in his mansion in Nelson Quay. A slew of problems had ensued for her and Flower, as a result. She rang the bell of the home. Apparently, Buddha Talk, had followed on to inquire about the whole issue of the bonds. Hopefully, there were no hard feelings at this point. A man wearing night slippers, walked out to the metal gate.

  "You are bringing a copy of the Cayman Gazette? Your name is Clarity?"

  "Yes."

  The man pressed a button on a remote he was holding, and the metal gate opened. The name of the guy was Baggio. He was the butler and mechanic and 'all things' handy man of Buddha Talk. Baggio led her towards the back of the house, along an alley made of granite. The pool and spa were tiled in with a water view to the sea. Amenities included a large dock, which showed a yacht made by Princess anchored there. They walked on the terrace of the house, into a porch. Baggio slid the panels of a glass door and led Clarity inside the home, well lit and bright. A chubby guy, wearing a black suit was climbing down from a library staircase.

  "This is the woman boss. Lloyd picked her up at Customs."

  "I remember you," said Mannen. Clarity held the stare and walked towards a sofa. She gave Buddha Talk the stack of papers, making the loose-leafed copy of the Cayman Gazette.

  "Apparently some people want to know you are reading that publication, people related to Mr. Di Laure."

  "Thank you, that's good, good to know that, thanks for the tip." He grabbed the stack of papers and placed it on the arm of a sofa.

  "Thank you for getting me out of airport customs," said Clarity. "This Bellagio thing and the federal bonds has gotten out of hand. I got nothing to do with that." Buddha Talk sat down across from Clarity, looking at her.

  "Well, considering they were my bonds, and that you took 'em from my safe, in my home, you did take a hold of those temporarily. So you have something to do with that, that's why your name showed up with the PTW list at Customs. My name is Joe Mannen, people also call me Buddha Talk, sometimes when they don't know much about me. I wasn't expecting you here in Miami. Sort of lost track of you after what happened in Cayman. Is your friend still with you, girl named Flower?"

  Mannen liked Flower because she shared with him his liking for the statue found on Rolls Royce, th
e car's emblem, known as the spirit of ecstasy.

  "Flower, no, she's working somewhere in Egypt, I think, she found an Egyptologist who hired her."

  "Too bad, I would have liked to show her some of the books I read. Take a look."

  He pointed Clarity to a large book shelf holding well over five hundred books. Clarity began to read some of the titles, which included the Kama Sutra, Kama Sutra for beginners, Kama Sutra Illustrated with good looking women, Sexuality in the City, Sex for adults in the Countryside, A Scholarly view of Sexuality, The Sexuality View from another Angle, The opposite angle of the previous angle of Sexuality, Sexuality when you got a spare few minutes, and another book titled, A few ideas from Eastern Sexuality.

  "You like the topic of sexuality," said Clarity.

  "I am a scholar of spiritual sexuality."

  Mannen walked towards a large aquarium, lit with blue light, wiping off some dust from the glass panel with a white handkerchief.

  "I brought you here, because I need a washing machine, for the bonds, or the money, once either of those are recovered. I'm looking into how to recover the money I lost. You know about washing machines?"

  "No."

  "No problem, Baggio will explain some things to you, when you need to know them. I just want someone who is not associated with me, there's a few things going on here, that I would like to address. You'll be here for a few weeks. Officially, I'll put you on the list of employees of my pawnshop here in Miami, Gladeview pawn services, that'll do."

  "And then?"

  "Then you can leave."

  Clarity did not prompt further questions. The voice of Gomes talking about the various prisons of Miami was still clear in her head. Mannen wanted to know how the feds had found his pilot, before taking one million dollars in bonds from him. Mannen sensed that one of his business rivals, Gavino Di Laure, was involved with that. In any case, he'd fired the pilot, a man named Tarrance. The doorbell rang, and Baggio dragged his Tamarac Men's Scuffy night slippers along the floor, to open the door. A chubby lady was standing on the doormat. Mannen walked to the door to welcome her.

  "Maggie, hi, come here, take a seat in the living room area, and have a whisky or two." He introduced her to Clarity.

  "This is my new assistant, she's got a few years left before she can leave the crashworthy agreement. Been on-board since the issue with the bonds."

  Maggie took a seat on the same sofa as Clarity. Mannen poured some whisky to the lady and explained that he wanted to settle this thing with the bonds.

  "So, Maggie, I came to Florida to solve or resolve the issue. It's becoming annoying. Di Laure is becoming too good at spreading the word that I'm running out of money, or influence, or that anybody can just take my money. It's undermining my influence in Cayman as well."

  "Tarrance was at Milton's here in Miami when the feds found out about him and the bonds. Pretty sure it was Di Laure, who told 'em."

  "Directly? That would be stupid of him," said Mannen.

  The lady shook her head, and showed her a picture of a man on her smartphone. Clarity looked over the shoulder of Maggie, to look at the face of the man. A guy named Noddy Jay was at Milton's when the pilot of Mannen was there a few months earlier. He was a gambler of clandestine horse races, had a few drinks with the pilot, and called the feds, in exchange for some money, from a guy who came in to Milton's sometimes, a police officer.

  Mannen reached for the stack of sheets brought by Clarity, grabbing a few pages from the Cayman Gazette. He pulled a bar cart with several bottles of liquor on it towards him.

  "All right, thanks Maggie, Baggio will show you to the pool terrace, you can stay here a couple of hours. I'll tell him to drive you back to your place."

  Clarity saw Maggie walk away, requesting a daiquiri to the driver of Mannen. He pointed Clarity to his bookshelf.

  "Take a copy of the Kama Sutra in Red Morocco clamshell case, I want to reflect on some things."

  Clarity moved towards the shelf and grabbed the book, an old edition from 1883, translated by Richard Burton, fetched at an auction house called Chelsea's, for about eight thousand dollars. Mannen leafed through various pages of the Cayman Gazette, and moved on to the supplemental issue, looking mostly at offshore financial vehicles or companies in liquidation. He knew those companies were cheap to buy, and that he could resell those assets at a higher price to someone else, once all the debts were paid off. A particular notice grabbed his attention. He grabbed a glass and took a sip of his favorite whisky, Coperini & Onelsen, lifting his hand towards his butler. Baggio was busy re-placing the library staircase used by Mannen to reach the upper shelves, where he kept a copy of the Kama Sutra for Intermediate users and those enjoying the Caribbean lifestyle.

  "Come over here Baggio, please, get me this manual here on this page, it's listed with some of the items described in this liquidation of the Gazette, Gramercy Offshore Limited, some kind of vehicle for investments."

  Taking her eyes off the library for a few seconds, Clarity peeked over the shoulder of Mannen, behind him, briefly seeing the paragraph that was relevant, a notice of liquidation and the names of the liquidators of the company appointed. Included below the notice was a list of assets being sold by the company. Among those assets was a document that the shady, low key, underworld figure was requesting. It said Cocoanomics, a practical manual for inmates everywhere.