Death Diamonds of Bermudez (2 page)

Van Eck was right. Cemeteries in New Orleans were called ‘Cities of the Dead’ because the dead were buried above the ground in tombs that looked like miniature buildings. The water table is so high in New Orleans that when coffins were placed in the ground many would float back to the surface in time. From a distance these cemeteries appear to be miniature cities.

One of his other men with a nervous voice said, “Why do we have to visit the cemetery at night? Can’t we go there in daylight?”

Van Eck, still red-faced, snapped back, “I’m surrounded by fools. Do you want the local authorities asking us questions?”

Although Storm had only picked up bits and pieces of the conversation he felt he needed to get a good look at the four men in the booth behind him. Storm slid out of the booth, thinking it was a good time to go to the men’s room. He would have to walk right by the booth of South Africans. As he passed by the booth one of the South Africans also decided to go to the men’s room and bumped into Storm. Storm turned to look down at the man who had sat back down abruptly and said, “Excuse me, I didn’t see you.”

The man looked up at Storm and threatened him as he pulled out a knife from his jacket. “Boy, you better be more careful, or I might have to teach you a lesson in manners.”

Storm who is an African American was stunned by his comment, but before he replied he needed to disarm the South African. He quickly grabbed the South African’s wrist and slammed his hand down on the table causing the knife to fall on the floor. With his other hand, he grabbed the South African’s head and pounded it on the table. The man was now totally disoriented. Storm commented, “First of all I’m not your boy. Secondly, you call me that again and I’ll kick your ass from here to the Mississippi River.” Just as Storm finished speaking a man on the other side of the table stood up. He was a towering six feet seven inches tall and weighed over three hundred and fifty pounds. He was Dirk Lynch, the right hand man of his employer Kruger Van Eck. Storm looked almost straight up and without pausing backed away from the giant.

Lynch yelled, “Boss, do you want me to break this man in half?”

Van Eck replied, “Sit down, Lynch. It’s all a misunderstanding. Let the man pass.” Lynch sat down. Storm knew he was outnumbered and felt there was no point in continuing with this altercation any longer. He elected to continue towards the men’s room. On his way to the men’s room Storm shot a couple of quick pictures of Van Eck and his group.

The City of the Dead

Storm walked past the men’s room directly to the back door of the bar that led into the alley. He flipped open his cell phone and called the local New Orleans FBI office. Special agent Rogers answered the phone.

Storm spoke in a low voice saying, “Rogers, this is Storm. I need you and Tucker to meet me down on Bourbon Street to tail four suspects.”

Rogers replied, “I’ll get Tucker, and we’ll be on our way in a couple of minutes. By the way, who are these guys?”

Storm replied, “I’m not sure, but I think they’re involved in some type of international smuggling. Oh, I also sent a couple of pictures of these guys through my cell phone. Get copies for yourselves and see if anyone can ID them on the Interpol network.”

Rogers added, “Will do. Where the hell are you at?”

Storm replied, “I’m at The Hurricane Bar.”

Rogers continued saying, “Got it, on our way.” He snapped his cell phone closed and went to get Tucker.

Storm went back into the bar to keep an eye on the South Africans. To his surprise, as he walked back to his booth, they were gone. He quickly looked out the front window, but the crowd was still so thick that there was no way to see them. Not even the giant was in sight. Storm turned to the barkeep and said, “Jackson, where in the hell did those guys go that were sitting in the booth next to me?”

Jackson replied, “Don’t know, Storm. They paid their bill and left.”

Storm turned and ran out the door. No sooner had he got twenty yards out than he ran into Rogers and Tucker. Storm looked at the two agents and said, “Hell, they got away while I was talking to you.”

Tucker asked, “Any idea where they went?”

Mad at himself, Storm said, “Not a clue where they went from here, but tomorrow night they’re going to one of the Cities of the Dead.”

Rogers added, “That’s great; it could be one of ten cemeteries in the city. We don’t have the man power to stake them all out.”

Storm thought for a minute and said, “Wait a minute! We’ve got all day tomorrow to figure that out. They won’t be going there until after dark tomorrow night.”

Tucker laughed and said, “So what, we still don’t have anything to go on.”

Storm smiled and replied, “Oh yes, we do! Tomorrow you two are going to find out where Koos de Klerk is interred. He died in nineteen sixty one. ”

The three called it a night and agreed to meet in the morning at headquarters.

The next day the trio was having zero luck finding the grave site of de Klerk. It was now late afternoon and time was running out. Tucker finally said, “We’ve been through every cemetery in the city. Do you think some of the records were destroyed when Hurricane Katrina hit?”

Storm replied, “I don’t think so.”

Rogers added, “We’ve looked almost everywhere.” With a puzzled look on his face, Storm said, “What in blue blazes do you mean almost everywhere?”

Rogers replied, “Well, we haven’t looked at the records in St. Roch’s Cemetery.”

Storm snapped back, “And why the hell not?”

Rogers a bit nervous said, “It’s almost one hundred fifty years old. I bet they haven’t buried anyone there for years.”

Storm added, “Just go with me on this one, and check it out. I’ll go see if we’ve received anything back from Interpol on these thugs.”

Storm walked into the adjoining office while Rogers and Tucker started scanning the death records for St. Roch’s. About an hour later Tucker yelled out, “Storm! Get your butt in here. We found de Klerk.”

Storm walked back into the room and said, “It’s about time. Is he in St. Roch’s?”

Rogers replied, “You got that right. He’s buried in section 48 in the south east corner of the cemetery.”

Storm added, “OK guys, it’s stakeout time. Let’s go see what the South Africans thugs are up to.” The three agents made their way across the city during rush hour arriving at St. Roch’s just after dusk. Even though the agents knew the general area where de Klerk’s tomb was, it was almost impossible to find it in the dark among the acres of tombs, crypts and vaults. Tucker found de Klerk’s tomb first. He yelled out, “Guys, the tomb’s over here.” He blinked his flash light twice to show Storm and Rogers where he was. The three split up in three different directions, but each agent was no further than about twenty yards from de Klerk’s tomb. Because of the hundreds of vaults and tombs standing above the ground there was no way the agents were going to see the South Africans until they were almost at de Klerk’s tomb. Now all the agents could do was to wait and hopefully see the thugs before they were upon them.

After waiting for over an hour Storm was getting bored. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, flipped it open and made a call. The phone rang five times on the other end. Storm was just about to end the call when he heard a voice on the other end, “Who the bloody hell is calling me at this hour of the night?”

Storm laughed very quietly and said, “Savage, you old sea dog, how you doing?”

Still in a daze, Savage said, “Storm, if this is you I’m going to make shark bait out of your hide for waking me up.”

Storm replied back, “Calm down, Savage. I’m on a stakeout in one of the Cities of the Dead.”

Savage interrupted saying, “What the hell is the Cities of the Dead?”

Storm grinned and said, “It’s a cemetery, old buddy. We’re here staking out a tomb of an old Boer prisoner of war from Bermuda.”

Now curious Savage replied, “Mate, have you gone nuts? I hope your suspect doesn’t get away.”

Before Savage could say anything else Storm said, “Have to go. I hear something.” The next thing Savage heard was a click in his ear.

Savage yelled out even though he knew Storm had already hung up, “Thanks for the wakeup call, mate.” He slammed the phone down and went back to sleep.

Storm and his fellow agents could all hear something or someone, but none of them were sure from what direction they were approaching.

Being old paramilitary officers, Van Eck and his thugs could smell out an ambush a mile away. Unfortunately, the FBI agents had drastically underestimated the South Africans. This was not going to be a good night for Storm and his men. As Van Eck and his men drew near he hand signaled two of his men to circle in opposite directions around the tomb. One of the thugs saw Rogers hiding behind a large vault watching de Klerk’s tomb. He crept up on top of the vault from the other side. This was the man that Storm had disarmed in the bar. He quietly pulled out his knife and like a leopard leaped down landing on Rogers back. Within a second he had slit Roger’s throat and gently laid his lifeless body on the ground. The South African moved on towards the tomb in stealth mode.

Lynch moved away from Van Eck in the direction of Tucker. Out of the corner of his eye, Tucker saw this monstrous object coming towards him. He pulled out his side arm and tried to move diagonally towards the object. Tucker was so engrossed in watching Lynch’s dark figure that he tripped over a raised stone walkway. Tucker fell causing his weapon to fire off a round into the air. Storm jumped up to look in the direction of the shot only to find himself looking straight into the barrel of a gun. Storm spun his right leg around catching the South African off guard striking him with a severe hit to his forehead with his foot. The South African hit the ground like a bag of potatoes.

Meanwhile Tucker was just about to stand up when Lynch reached down and grabbed him with both hands raising him over his head.

Tucker yelled out, “You baboon, put me down.”

Lynch replied, “If that’s what you want.” When he threw Tucker down with tremendous force on top of a tomb stone you could hear Tucker’s back breaking. Tucker’s broken lifeless body draped over the center of a tomb stone. Lynch stood there and stared at Tucker with a big smile on his face.

As Storm looked around, he was almost hit by gun fire. Storm dropped behind a tomb and began returning fire in the direction from where the shots came. Between shots Storm managed to call the New Orleans police department for backup. While the gun battle between Storm and one of the South Africans raged on, Van Eck and Lynch made a beeline towards de Klerk’s tomb. Once there Van Eck looked at Lynch and said, “How in the hell are we going to get into this tomb? It’s solid concrete.”

Lynch looked at Van Eck and said, “Not a problem, boss.” He raised his arms over his head locking his hands together like a huge mallet. Lynch yelled out at the top of his lungs a blood curling scream and swung his arms down at the tomb. The blow was so severe the top of the tomb crumbled into thousands of pieces. Van Eck reached into the tomb and removed the military jacket from the body of de Klerk. As quickly as the fighting started, all went quiet.

Storm could now hear the police sirens, but nothing else. He stood up with his pistol pointed in the direction of de Klerk’s tomb, but it was apparent he was alone. The South African he had cold cocked was gone. He made another grim discovery that both his fellow agents, Rogers and Tucker were dead. The police were now on the scene and blanketing the cemetery for Van Eck and his thugs. Storm with his head hung low went over to de Klerk’s tomb and looked in. He could quickly tell that the military jacket had been removed from de Klerk’s body. He knew that if the map really was in one of the jacket pockets then the South Africans were now in possession of it. This indeed was a bad night for Storm and the New Orleans FBI. His fellow agents were also his friend, and they would be missed. Storm left the scene and went back to headquarters to try to put together the pieces of the crime puzzle.

The Boer War

The next morning, still upset and extremely frustrated, Storm decided to give his old friend another call. This time he called him at the St. George’s branch of the Bermuda Police Department. Savage answered, “Inspector Savage.”