The Cayman Conspiracy. David Ph.D. Shibli
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to sleep at about 3.00 am.
Chapter Four
The four o’clock sun filtered softly through the reflective glass that comprised the outer walls of the Cayman Islands Government Administration Building. This centre of bureaucracy had swiftly been dubbed, The Glass House because of its resemblance to a huge mirror.
On the fourth floor of five, the weary shape that belonged to Arthur Downing sat uncomfortably in an executive chair. He was beginning to understand the feelings of a judge during a long trial as he weighed the pros and cons of the gambling proposal.
Holding onto the desk in front of him, he heaved his neglected body into an upright position and pushed his coastered chair backwards with his legs locking his knees. Raising his heavy arms and joining hands behind his balding head, he took a couple of deep breaths, which only made him more aware of how tired he really was. He moved slowly to the water dispenser and filled up a disposable cup. Bloody things, he thought as he tasted the warm mouthful.
Arthur had a right to be cynical. This confidential request to evaluate legalized gaming that had come down from ExCo was becoming a real Jekyll and Hyde beast. No wonder senior government had passed it on. This was certainly a complex issue and not for the faint-hearted. All the positive things that could be achieved with such vast sums of money warranted serious consideration.
So why was he apprehensive? What could go wrong? If the government fixed a high enough price for the sole gaming rights, then the current backlog of niggling problems could be cleared immediately.
That would also leave surplus money to address some of the real problems. They could commit cash to completing the Manse Road that had lain as a forgotten dirt-track for the last five years. A new school would be a popular addition to the list of short term achievements. What excellent popularity for the next elections in two years time? If ever a guaranteed second term was up for grabs, surely this would be the project to seal it? Alternatively, the government could reduce the fee for the sole rights in exchange for a percentage of the net profit? This would guarantee an income to government which would increase borrowing power with the banks, especially the Caribbean Development Bank to whom they were already in debt after building the new Gerrard Smith airport on Cayman Brac.
The options were becoming endless. It could even herald the dawn of a new era in the development of a solid infrastructure on Little Cayman. Poor Little Cayman. Although it was arguably the most beautiful of all the islands, it had no dock, no electricity grid, no industry and only about 30 people. That was on a good day when the population was swelled by the arrival of a few, millionaire fishermen anxious to subject themselves to the Spartan rigors of the Southern Cross Club and to enjoy the peaceful, empty beaches.
With all the obvious benefits, then why was he worried? Perhaps it had something to do with the contents of the information package that he had recently received from the Social Studies Research Department of the University of Duke, North Carolina. If, as suggested, anyone was stupid enough to lose everything they possessed, then surely it was their own fault? A result of free will nurtured in a democracy. It seemed like a good way to wheedle out those of weak character. Arthur felt confused. The conversation of several months ago with Joe seemed to justify his son-in-law’s attitude. But that Joe LeRice could be such a testy individual and Arthur could never face the words, I told you so, from him. Here was a man whose mind was so closed, that daylight could never have brightened the darker recesses, but his own precious daughter loved Joe and he seemed to make her happy, so that was something and although Arthur chose not to like Joe, he could not help but respect him.
Arthur toyed with the notion that they could be dangling a carrot of self-destruction in front of their weaker citizens? What if it was his children that succumbed to the temptation? No, his children had more sense. Then it would be somebody else’s children. Did that make it any better? But then what about freedom of choice? He had no right to say what people could do with their own money.
Arthur thought about some of his own friends. He envisaged them going through the motions that were documented in the research paper.
The prolonged absences, the habitual lying, loss of dignity, alcoholic tendencies, denial and possible stealing, not to mention legitimate commitments that could no longer be paid off. He put these scenarios in the category that they belonged; the extreme category. After all, a politician’s job was to please the mainstream, and if the mainstream could have two cars in their garage, then it was mission accomplished. His dilemma was interrupted by the ringing of his private telephone. It had to be something important. It was Mike Ackroyd, one of the four members of ExCo.
“Arthur. It’s Mike. How are you?”
“I’m struggling with that damned gambling report. No wonder ExCo passed it on. I still can’t decide if it’s win-win, lose-win or lose-lose”
“Come on Arthur,” said Ackroyd condescendingly. “ExCo have enough on their plate, without added distractions. You’re only doing a study, not building the Pillars of Hercules. Anyway, if the casino was to be approved, it would fall under your portfolio. We just happened to think that you would be the best man for the job.”
“I’m sorry,” apologized Arthur, “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
“I thought you’d breeze through it,” said Ackroyd, sounding surprised at detecting anything other than excitement in his fellow politician’s voice. “What was your final figure on the value of the package?”
“I’d estimate about one hundred and thirty million dollars. But it’s not the money that’s bothering me, Mike. It’s the effect on our younger population.” Arthur hoped that he was not beginning to sound like Joe LeRice.
“What do you mean?” Ackroyd pressed.
“Well, I’m not entirely convinced that introducing this legislation would be beneficial to the long term future of the islands. Honestly, I haven’t decided what to recommend as yet.”
“Have you thought what this government could achieve with one hundred and thirty million dollars? It would practically buy our seats for the next election.”
“Seats are there to be won, Mike, not bought,’ countered Arthur, secretly pleased that he was still able to sound idealistic.
“That’s typical of you, Arthur,” laughed Ackroyd, “but you are right, as usual. The directors of the consortium will be coming next week. Perhaps you can pick their brains a little before you give your final recommendation.”
“Maybe you are right this time, Mike. I don’t want to make a hasty decision without all the facts. But you do understand, don’t you? We can’t go around jeopardizing the future of our starry-eyed youth.”
“Of course we can’t. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. But you have to be objective and say what you think. After all, it’s not as though we as a nation have had much experience of this kind of thing. I’ll see you in the Legislative Assembly tomorrow.”
They hung up. Arthur felt a little relieved thanks to the understanding of Mike Ackroyd. Although only in his forties, Mike had been in government now for eight years and was generally considered to be one of the more astute political figures in Cayman. A certain amount of respect was derived from the fact that he had a degree in business management from the prestigious University of California, Los Angeles. It was this academic success and a powerful drive that had propelled Mike Ackroyd from an ordinary Legislative Assembly member to Executive Council.
At the start of each new term of office, four of the twelve Assembly members would be elected by their colleagues to serve on this elite board. These four people were generally considered to be the most powerful members of the community, even more powerful than the Governor who was posted every four years from Britain. Cayman Islands Governors tend to remove themselves from politics and act as figureheads. A posting to the Cayman Islands by the Foreign Office is regarded as a reward for long service and usually occurs during the twilight of their diplomatic career.
One influential Caymanian politician is reported to have hit the nail on the