http://ttblogs.com/patrickmanning/2010/03/06/catch-me-if-you-can/Catch me if you can
March 6th, 2010 · No CommentsOne of the things I hate about cell phone roaming is the lack of caller ID. When Rev Apostle Juliana Peña travels with me I never have that problem, of course. She always knows in advance who’s calling, as any good seerwoman should. And usually she knows what the caller’s calling about as well. “Dat is Hazel,” JP would say, “she just find out a certain female member of cabinet accompany us on this trip. You probably doan want to answer that.”
The one person whose calls JP was never able to detect, however, were Calder Hart’s. Somehow the man’s Voldemort-like aura is invisible to La Peña’s powerful prophetess radar. “Try harder!” I’d say, urging her on as the phone rang and rang and the veins in her temples popped out with the effort. “Ah tryin’, Patos!” she’d say, her fists to her forehead and her eyes screwed up in pain, “ah tryin’!”
So I suppose that even if Juliana P hadn’t been in hiding and were here with me at the Dorchester, occupying the usual adjoining suite, she would not have been able to shield me from the call.
“Hello?”
“Patos! Where the hell are you?”
“Oh—it’s you. What do you want?”
“What the f**k do you think I want? I want all of this shit to go away, is what I want.”
“What shit?”
“Like you don’t know, eh? Those assholes at UDECOTT fired me!”
“Fired? I thought you’d resigned.”
“Cut the bullshit, Patos. When you brought me here you promised me full banana republic-style immunity for anything I did. You said you’d protect me. And now there’s a rumour going around town that you’re in London en route to Zimbabwe to seek asylum from Mugabe. Talk is that’s the vision your prophetess took to Mugabe back in 2005 when she visited Zimbabwe as your “special envoy“: “In the year 2010 I foresee Patos’ ass is going to be grass, so you’ll need to grant him asylum.” I want to believe the rumour’s false, but if I’m not mistaken, that sounds a whole lot like EastEnders on the TV.”
Damn my addiction to British soaps! Juliana P warned me I’d get in trouble one day because of it.
“Er, I’m watching it on iPlayer.”
“Then in that case, why don’t you come up to my house and help me pack? Plus I’ve got an envelope of stuff to hand over to you. You know, some photos and the like.”
My heart skipped a beat! I’d forgotten about those photos. I ran through the list of cronies I could call upon to go over to Hart’s house, lock his neck and grab the stash. There was only one person I knew who could pull something like that off. But did I want to go there—again?
“Patos? You still there?”
“Of course I’m still here.”
“I know you’re in London, you know. No need to pretend. How times have changed, eh? In the old days you barely made a move without calling on Uncle Calder for advice.”
“And a lot of good that advice did me! Remember: ‘Patos, it’s only $30 million. Nobody’s gonna miss it. And if they do, tell them it’s to build a church, everybody will say it’s okay, because Trinis loooove churches.’ And what about: ‘Patos, you know who I think would loooove to meet your prophetess? Benny Hinn!’ Look where that got me.”
“Whoa, Patos. Calm down, buddy. How’s about we make us a deal?”
“Between you and me, Calder, I’ve had enough of your deals.”
“Photos, Patos, pho-tos. And I should add that the Swiss bank account number I gave you is false. In fact, it isn’t even Swiss.”
“Argh! OK. Let me hear about this deal.”
“The deal is simple: you get us both aslyum. Or should that be “asyla”?”
Israel Khan was right. Hart was unintelligent. But the man knew how to play hardball.
“OK, it’s a deal. Or at least I’ll try. You know Mugabe—the man is more of a snake than Panday and Ramnath put together.”
“C’mon, Patos, you know you and Mugabe are buddies. Anyways, keep me posted. I’m not sure yet exactly where we’re headed, but it’ll be on Facebook.”
Tags: Written by Patrick