The Cayman Conspiracy. David Ph.D. Shibli
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© 2011 David J. Shibli
The Cayman Conspiracy
by David Shibli
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0424-0
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.
Preface
The Cayman Conspiracy was written in the late 1980s during a time of intense, personal struggle in the author’s life. The original cassette tapes that contained the manuscript had long since been lost and only two physical copies remained. One was with the author and the other was sent to a publisher in London. In 1990, the author was living as a homeless person on the streets of Manhattan where he would push hotdog carts to survive and it was during this time that he made a private decision not to publish.
During a brief personal ceremony in a homeless shelter in New York in 1991, he quietly slid his copy into a trash can and it was forgotten about....or was it?
Incredibly, 20 years later, the winds of providence unearthed the last surviving copy of the manuscript that had found its way back to an old family friend’s house. During a recent trip to the U.K. in May 2011, the author was reunited with his original work and read it again.
Deeply moved by the intensity of the characters birthed by his young imagination and astonished by the prophetic nature of his story, he concluded that the manuscript had remained hidden for such a time as this.
You are invited on a thrilling adventure that links the high stakes world of casino gambling with the sleepy Cayman Islands of the 1980s, a place where gambling has always been and still is illegal.
Acknowledgements
The Cayman Conspiracy would never have existed if it were not for the influence of various people in my life and although it is impossible to name everyone; this is my best effort.
First and foremost, I would like to give the greatest thanks to my mother and father for loving me and giving me such a privileged start in life enabling me to draw upon the gift of a great education in all the challenges that I have faced to date.
I would like to thank Sr. Mary Philomena, my cherished headmistress for her continued support over the years.
My brothers, Simon, Jeremy and Dominic and their wives, Tracey, Nikki and Funda deserve mention for treating their broken brother with great respect.
I want to thank Dave Pike and his family who were responsible for protecting the last surviving copy of the manuscript for twenty years as it laid safely in their house while the years passed by.
I’m grateful to all my friends from St. John’s, Ratcliffe and Cotton College with whom I have accumulated many treasured memories.
A special mention is due to Simon Boardman, Gary Bates, Paul Gibbons and Andy Gabriel without whom I would never have made it through university.
I will also give praise to my talented children, Josephine, David, Christina and Daniela and their moms, Kayla and Osiris.
For services rendered and professional encouragement, I would like to thank Julie Arnall and Stuart Diamond.
I would like to give a special mention to Mary Ethna Williams whose inspiration at the rebirth of this project was so influential.
Finally, I reserve sincere and personal thanks to you, the reader, as you join me on this journey that is The Cayman Conspiracy.
About the Book
Set in the Cayman Islands of the late 1980s this book introduces the complex, yet flawed character that is Joe LeRice, an expat Englishman living in the Cayman Islands by virtue of his father’s work. As a child, Joe falls in love with the islands, its people and with one girl in particular. He vows to return and after struggling through university, he does so and marries his childhood sweetheart, Rachael Downing, whose father has since become a prominent politician.
Rachael’s father, Arthur, has been tasked with evaluating a proposal from a gaming consortium based in Las Vegas, requesting exclusive gaming rights to the Cayman Islands and the permission to build a fabulous beachfront casino. This promises to inject millions into empty government coffers, solving many fiscal problems that currently prevent them from improving the national infrastructure.
Arthur is torn over this issue which comes to a head during a visit to the islands by the principals of Eastern Promise Gaming Inc. including the seductive siren, Kate Clementier. Finally, the issue comes before the Cayman Islands Government’s Legislative Assembly for a vote.
Accidentally, Joe comes across a letter to Arthur from a Brogan Higgins in Vegas warning him not to trust Eastern Promise Gaming Inc. believing the organization to be responsible for the gambling problems of his brother and his subsequent death.
With very little evidence, Joe decides to trust his gut and embarks on a mission to go to Vegas to try and find out if Eastern Promise Gaming Inc. has been implicated in any criminal activity that would consequently negate their application for a business license in the Cayman Islands.
On the way to see Brogan Higgins in Vegas, Joe meets young Bobby, a tough, streetwise hooker. Strangely they bond, Joe being struck by her refreshing honesty as much as she is by his naive vulnerability.
Unable to find any evidence that would legally prevent Eastern Promise from operating in the Cayman Islands, Joe and Brogan, aided by Bobby, formulate a daring plan that takes on the gambling consortium at its own game.
During the execution of this plan, Joe comes face to face with his painful past and must overcome personal demons that have almost destroyed him as a young man.
Chapter One
As if dragged down invisibly by the thousands of dollars wagered on it, the busy roulette ball fell from its faltering orbit towards the swirl of numbers below. After a couple of speedy ricochets, it picked its spot.
“Sixteen. Red,” announced the croupier matter-of-factly, as though she had already known. She placed a column-shaped object on the sparsely populated number, reminding her who to pay.
Groaning gamblers watched as their losing bets were swiftly scraped off the green, baize table and dumped into the greedy receptacle at the side of the wheel.
The few winners, suddenly more adept at mental arithmetic, quickly calculated their returns, if they hadn’t done so already. The experienced croupier, displaying tactile perfection, didn’t even need to look at the chips as she counted them. This display of dexterity was marveled at by the new players and taken for granted by the old hands.
One of the old hands, Higgins, bit hard into his lower lip suppressing the profanity that would have followed the ‘F’ that had just formed on his mouth. He had lost again. Dregs of table etiquette tightened his bite.
He tore his concentration from the feverish betting frenzy and sat up in his chair. He looked at his watch, if only through pure habit. There was nowhere he had to be, no wife at home, no supper on the table and no kids to play with. He had forfeited all that two years ago. So the fact that it was eight p.m. was irrelevant.
Shaky hands sent up spirals of cigarette smoke that wafted across his face, urging him to join in. Before obliging, he paused to run his nicotine-stained fingers through his head of grey-flecked,