Title: WHITE WITCH
Author: Larry D. ThompsonPublisher: Story Merchant Books
Pages: 291
Genre: Thriller
Jamaica is a place where the surreal is simply everyday reality. When
a ruthless American aluminum company plans to strip mine the Jamaican
rainforest, they send former Navy SEAL Will Taylor to Montego Bay to
deal with local resistance on their behalf. But he’s unaware that the
British had signed a treaty deeding the rainforest to the Jamaican
Maroons, descendants of escaped slaves, over 300 years ago. The Maroons
fought and died for their land then, and are more than willing to do so
now, whether it’s the British or the Americans who threaten them this
time around.
Upon Will’s arrival, a series of inexplicable murders begin, some carried out with deadly snake daggers that were owned and used by Annie Palmer, a voodoo priestess better known as the White Witch. She was killed 200 years prior, but is said to still haunt the island at night, and the local Jamaicans are certain she’s responsible for the gruesome murders, her form of retaliation against the new turmoil taking place in the rainforest.
And Will has been forced directly into the middle of it. After a few close calls, he’s finally convinced to leave his company and join forces with the Maroons, headed by Vertise Broderick, a Maroon who resigned from her position at the New York Times to return to Jamaica to stop the mining. Together they hire a Jamaican attorney to prove that the Maroon/British treaty is still valid to stop the mining, and they take it upon themselves to solve the White Witch murders, because the legend of the White Witch can’t possibly be true…
Upon Will’s arrival, a series of inexplicable murders begin, some carried out with deadly snake daggers that were owned and used by Annie Palmer, a voodoo priestess better known as the White Witch. She was killed 200 years prior, but is said to still haunt the island at night, and the local Jamaicans are certain she’s responsible for the gruesome murders, her form of retaliation against the new turmoil taking place in the rainforest.
And Will has been forced directly into the middle of it. After a few close calls, he’s finally convinced to leave his company and join forces with the Maroons, headed by Vertise Broderick, a Maroon who resigned from her position at the New York Times to return to Jamaica to stop the mining. Together they hire a Jamaican attorney to prove that the Maroon/British treaty is still valid to stop the mining, and they take it upon themselves to solve the White Witch murders, because the legend of the White Witch can’t possibly be true…
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Will returned to his room, too wound up
to sleep. He stripped to his
underwear and flipped channels on a
large screen HD television until he ran
across First Blood with
Sylvester Stallone. Having lived that life for a few years,
he never passed up the opportunity to
watch it again. He settled back and had
drifted off to sleep when his cell
chimed. He glanced at the television to make
sure it was not coming from there and
found Fred Astaire waltzing Ginger
Rogers around a ballroom. He turned off the
television and reached for his
phone.
“Taylor.”
“Will, Alexa here.” It was nearly three
in the morning and Alexa was still at
her desk. Smoke drifted from a
cigarette in her ash tray while she sucked on a
Tootsie Pop. She was on the speaker
phone. When Will answered, she walked to
her window and stared at the lights of Baltimore.
Will turned on the nightstand light,
glanced at the clock, and swung his feet
into a sitting position on the side of
the bed. “Yes, ma’am. Little late for a booty
call.”
“Cut the crap. Kaven was just found at
Rose Hall. He’s dead.”
“What? Are you sure? I just saw him a
few hours ago.” Will got to his feet
and began pacing the room. “Shit.”
“Must be those goddamn Maroons. He
called me last night once he got
back from Accompong. He told me about
what happened up there. By the way,
they let the pilot go. They said they
had no beef with him.”
“So I heard. What was Kaven doing at
Rose Hall? When I saw him, he was
going to his room.”
“How the hell should I know? I got a
call from some local detective. They
found his employee identification in
his wallet. When the detective called here,
the operator knew I was still in my
office and put the call through to me. You need to get to Rose Hall now.
“Yes, ma’am,” Will agreed.
“And I’m flying down there tomorrow
before this gets any more out of
hand. See if you can keep anybody else
from being killed until I get there.”
Will’s cell went dead. He put it on the
nightstand and picked up the hotel
phone. Pleased to find it working, he
punched the key for valet parking.
“Good evening, Mr. Taylor. How can I be
of assistance?”
“Bring my company Land Rover to the
front as quickly as possible.”
Getting assurance that it would be
there when he got downstairs, Will hung
up and walked to the bathroom. Five
minutes later he was met at the hotel
entrance by a valet.
“Can I give you directions, Mr. Taylor?
It’s a little late at night.”
“No thanks. I know exactly where I’m
going.” Will got in the car, fastened
his seat belt, and left the hotel.
When Will got to Rose Hall, he turned
onto the road they had just come
down the evening before. At the top of
the hill he could see the mansion, now
well lighted. He dodged tree limbs and
utility wires and parked among several
other vehicles. Police cars were
positioned so that their headlights focused on the
steps of the mansion where Will could
see the yellow police crime scene tape. He
walked up a path from the parking lot
between the police cars that faced the
mansion to the yellow tape where an
officer stood watch. The officer came to
attention as Will approached.
“Sorry, mon. I can’t let you past here.
We’re investigating a murder.”
Will kept his voice even but
controlling. “I know, officer. That’s why I’m
here. Name’s William Taylor. I’m head
of security for Global American Metals.
Here’s my identification.” Will tried
to hand him an ID. The officer just shook
his head. “Officer, the dead man is one
of Global’s employees. Can you get
someone in authority to let me up
there?”
Before the officer could reply, Miles
Harper, the St. James Parish Chief of
Detectives, approached. Harper was a
lean, fit man with a shaved head and a no
nonsense manner. He was dressed in a
brown suit, yellow shirt, and matching
tie. He looked like he just stepped out
of GQ Magazine, even at three in the
morning.
“Mr. Taylor, I’m Miles Harper, Chief of
Detectives in this parish. I was
told by your company to expect you.”
Will extended his right hand. Harper
ignored it. Instead, he nodded at the
officer and motioned for Will to follow
him. Harper went up a dozen steps and
turned to Will as he stood beside
Kaven’s body, sprawled on his back with dagger in his chest. Will bent over for
a closer look and found that the handle of
the dagger was in the shape of a snake.
At the top of the handle was the snake’s
head. The snake’s eyes were two bright
rubies.
“Shit,” Will muttered, “He was almost
killed because of one snake on the
road today and now someone finished the
job with a, what would you call this, a
snake dagger?”
“That’s as good a name as any, Mr.
Taylor. My officers reported what went
on up in Accompong and the incident
with the boa.”
Will continued to study the body.
“Looks like he’s been dead a couple of
hours. I last saw him about ten last
night. Who found him?”
“The hotel has a security guard that
roams the mansion grounds and up to
the club house in a golf cart. He
spotted the body.”
“Where’s your coroner?”
“He’s a local Justice of the Peace, not
a medical doctor. He won’t set foot on
these steps until morning. My men here
won’t go past the tape either. They
believe the White Witch did it.”
Will shook his head in disbelief. “Come
on, Chief, this is the twenty-first
century.”
“Old beliefs die hard, Mr. Taylor. Come
on. Let me show you something.”
Harper stepped around the body and
climbed the steps with Will behind
him. Entering the ballroom, Will said,
“I was just in this room yesterday evening during the storm.”
Harper turned to study Will. “Would you
care to explain?”
Will covered the details of the
previous day and their time in the mansion
while they waited out the storm. “You
know a woman named Vertise?”
Harper nodded his head. “She’s a local.
Works for the paper and tends bar
for the hotel. Since you were in this
room a few hours ago, come over here.”
Harper led Will to a glass display
against one wall with pictures of two snake
daggers above it along with the history
of the daggers. The glass had been
broken and the daggers were gone.
“You see this case when you were up
here?”
Will studied it and thought back to the
day before. “Can’t say I did, Chief.
It was pretty dark in here, lit only by
candles since the storm knocked out
power. I wandered around the room but
never glanced toward this case. And I
don’t believe anyone else mentioned it.
Now that I think about it, Vertise told
us the legend of Annie Palmer and her
using a snake dagger to kill an overseer.
evening during the storm.”
Harper turned to study Will. “Would you
care to explain?”
Will covered the details of the
previous day and their time in the mansion
while they waited out the storm. “You
know a woman named Vertise?”
Harper nodded his head. “She’s a local.
Works for the paper and tends bar
for the hotel. Since you were in this
room a few hours ago, come over here.”
Harper led Will to a glass display
against one wall with pictures of two snake
daggers above it along with the history
of the daggers. The glass had been
broken and the daggers were gone.
“You see this case when you were up
here?”
Will studied it and thought back to the
day before. “Can’t say I did, Chief.
It was pretty dark in here, lit only by
candles since the storm knocked out
power. I wandered around the room but
never glanced toward this case. And I
don’t believe anyone else mentioned it.
Now that I think about it, Vertise told
us the legend of Annie Palmer and her
using a snake dagger to kill an overseer. Surprising that she didn’t show us
these daggers when she was telling the story.”
“Interesting,” mused Harper. “You have
any idea why your man would
come up here in the middle of the
night?”
“Not a clue. Have you checked his cell phone?
He always carried it.”
“Yeah. The last calls were with you
yesterday afternoon and one with Ms.
Pritchard later in the evening.”
Will nodded. “He called me from
Accompong, warning me of trouble up
there. I should have gone with him.”
Harper shook his head. “Whether you
were there or not wouldn’t have
made any difference. Just would have
been one more person that was in my
police car that rolled, assuming, of
course, you didn’t take a bullet up on the
mountain.”
“Understood.”
“How did you get in the mansion?”
“Vertise said she knew where a key was
hidden and let us in.”
“Strange that she could get into the
locked mansion. It was my
understanding that only the manager of
Rose Hall had a key. He locked it and
left when the storm was hitting. The hotel
spent a fortune on period pieces to
recreate how it looked two hundred
years ago. One of his jobs is to make sure
they are not stolen.”
“Any signs of a break-in?” Will asked.
“This is not for publication, you
understand, but when I got here the
mansion was locked and the lights were
off.”
“So, you’re saying that someone got
into the mansion, stole two daggers, let
themselves back out, killed Kaven, and
left no trace.” Will paused to absorb all
that he had just said. “Wait a minute.
If someone wanted to kill Kaven, why not
just use a gun? Why go to all the
trouble of getting that dagger to do it?”
“I’ve been wrestling with that very
question,” Harper said. “It’s illegal for a
private citizen to own a gun in Jamaica, but that doesn’t mean they are not
available if you know the right people.
My working hypothesis is that the killer
or killers wanted the public to think
voodoo was involved, or maybe even the
White Witch. The only other possibility
that comes to mind is that the Maroons
are trying to send a message to Global.
They tried to kill Tillman in Accompong
and failed. Maybe the message is that
they finish what they start. Either way,
someone is trying to make trouble for
your company. I have another problem
that may not be apparent.”
Will looked quizzically at the
detective.
“As you can see, there were two snake
daggers in this case. One’s accounted
for out on the steps. The other is
gone. Nearly everyone around here thinks that
they are voodoo daggers with magical
powers. They were found in an overseer’s
grave during the restoration of the
mansion thirty years ago.”
“Does ‘everyone’ include you? Looks to
me like the killer or killers are just
trying to mess with the minds of my
co-workers, maybe keep some locals from
hiring on with us.”
Harper stuck his hands in his pockets.
“Not up to me to decide if they’re
magic or not. I’ve got a murder with
one of those daggers. My job is to solve the
murder and along the way, find that
other dagger before someone uses it.”
Will’s eyes searched the room in a
futile effort to see any clues to the crime.
Then he focused on the chief. “Look,
I’m going to need a gun. My company is
obviously under attack. I’m licensed to
carry back home.”
“No way, Mr. Taylor,” Harper exploded.
“Foreigners are not permitted to
have guns in Jamaica. For that matter, as I just told you,
neither are Jamaicans.
And I want you to stay the hell out of
my investigation. We don’t need your
help. Understand?”
“Yeah, I understand. You know that each
of our mines on this island is
permitted a certain number of guns for
our guards. I’ll just get one of those.”
“The hell you will. Don’t you dare go
behind my back. Those guns never
leave mine property. I have an officer
that inventories them. If one turns up
missing, I’ll confiscate every damn
weapon that Global has and put you under
house arrest. Clear, Mr. Taylor?”
Will clinched his fists and tried to
hold back the anger that was apparent in
his face. Without another word, he
turned and stormed out of the mansion,
pausing only to gaze at Kaven and say a
prayer for him and his family. At the
bottom of the steps, he got in his car
and glanced toward the mansion. The
lights from his car somehow caught the
ruby eyes of the snake, making them
appear briefly to be alive. Will shook
his head, put the car in reverse, and
returned to the hotel.
Book Trailer:
After graduating from the University of Texas School of Law, Larry
spent the first half of his professional life as a trial lawyer. He
tried well over 300 cases and won more than 95% of them. Although he had
not taken a writing class since freshman English (back when they wrote
on stone tablets), he figured that he had read enough novels and knew
enough about trials, lawyers, judges, and courtrooms that he could do
it. Besides, his late, older brother, Thomas Thompson, was one of the
best true crime writers to ever set a pen to paper; so, just maybe,
there was something in the T hompson gene pool that would be guide him
into this new career. He started writing his first novel about a dozen
years ago and published it a couple of years thereafter. He has now
written five highly acclaimed legal thrillers. White Witch is number six with many more to come.
Larry is married to his wife, Vicki. He has three children scattered from Colorado to Austin to Boca Raton, and four grandchildren. He has been trying to retire from the law practice to devote full time to writing. Hopefully, that will occur by the end of 2018. He still lives in Houston, but spends his summers in Vail CO, high on a mountain where he is inspired by the beauty of the Rocky Mountains.
His latest book is the captivating thriller, WHITE WITCH.
Larry is married to his wife, Vicki. He has three children scattered from Colorado to Austin to Boca Raton, and four grandchildren. He has been trying to retire from the law practice to devote full time to writing. Hopefully, that will occur by the end of 2018. He still lives in Houston, but spends his summers in Vail CO, high on a mountain where he is inspired by the beauty of the Rocky Mountains.
His latest book is the captivating thriller, WHITE WITCH.
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