The Plan by John Francis Kinsella
It was a neighbour who first saw the smoke rising from Jameson’s property; at first thinking it was one of the Englishman’s weekend barbecue parties he ignored it. But when the billowing smoke turned from white to black and flames leapt into the late afternoon sky he knew something serious was wrong. He alerted the fire services, then jumped into his car and raced uphill to Jameson’s, barely half a kilometre away, along a steep, narrow, twisting country lane.
The mid-August bank holiday was not a good moment to have a fire. As the St Jean de Luz fire fighters struggled to reach the fire they were confronted with a heavy tailback of holidaymakers and day-trippers. The crowd had been forced to abandon the beach en masse, after a sudden and violent west wind, an Enbata as the Basques called it, hit them, whipping up dense clouds of sand as it swept up the coast.
The manor was almost two kilometres to the south of Urrugne and it was twenty minutes before the fire-fighters entered into Jameson’s property. The first to arrive on the scene had been the immediate neighbours who were helpless. The huge manor and its dependencies were ablaze. Tall flames reached up into the sky surrounded by swirling clouds of white and black smoke. There was no visible sign of life. The onlookers could do nothing but stand and watch the grim spectacle of the magnificent 17th century buildings being consumed by the inferno. The fire-fighters quickly set their pumps up by the large swimming pool, but their task was hopeless and it was not until well past midnight that last flames were finally doused.
Halfon, Jameson’s business partner, was contacted at the Hôtel du Palais in Biarritz, where he sometimes stayed at weekends. To his knowledge Jameson was not travelling. It was Sunday and his partner’s cell phone was switched off, perhaps he was visiting, or had gone sailing on his boat the Jai Alai, as he often did at weekends.
The next morning the police arrived on the scene to assist the fire-fighters raking through the remains of the manor in search of possible victims. The officer in charge of the enquiry, Commissaire Jacques Cramer of the Police Judiciare in Bayonne, took note of the boat’s name and called the capitanerie at the Hendaye Marina. He was informed the Jai Alai was at its mooring, but there was no sign of activity.
With few answers to his questions Cramer ordered the property to be sealed off. Specialists of the INPS, the forensic police department, would be called in the next day for a detailed inspection of the burnt-out ruins. In the meantime, neighbours informed Cramer, Jameson’s known next of kin lived overseas, it seemed he was divorced, his son was believed to be living in Ireland and his daughter in London.
In view of the damage and Jameson’s absence, Cramer decided it would be in order to check out the boat. The capitanerie had informed him the person best informed on the comings and goings on board was the boat’s Spanish skipper, Jose Laborda, who rented an apartment nearby the town hall in the centre of Hendaye Ville.
Cramer called Laborda and fifteen minutes later picked him up for a visit to the marina, a short minute drive away. The Spaniard showed the way to the harbour. On arrival at the capitanerie, he pointed to the Jai Alai, but strangely the Commissaire seemed to have difficult in seeing it, which struck him as bizarre given the thirty metre Guy Couach motor yacht was the least difficult boat to spot in the marina. It was by far the largest vessel present, moored on the quai with its fantail almost staring them in the face.
There was however no problem with Commissaire’s eyes, it was he could simply not imagine such a huge boat belonging to Jameson, even if he was well-off.
Cramer felt non-plussed as he was led down the ramp onto the pontoon towards the afterdeck of the motor yacht and Laborda producing a set of keys opened the doors to the lounge area. The Commissaire, a cynical flic, who had visited the homes of many wealthy and famous people during his long carrier in the police, was taken aback by the luxury of the Jai Alai. The lounge alone was larger than his own living room, decorated and furnished in the style of a petro-dollar emir.
Everything seemed in order. Laborda pointed to a stairway that led the way down to the next deck and a dining room, followed by another lounge, a galley and other areas. On the dining room table was a bottle of whisky and two empty glasses. Laborda indicated the staterooms were below on another deck and Cramer followed him still agape at the size and luxury of the boat.
He found himself in a narrow corridor, to the left and right were cabins and to the forward a stateroom. There was nothing unusual in the luxuriously appointed cabins. Laborda then pointed to the main stateroom. It covered the full width of the boat. Facing them was a king-size bed that had been slept in, to the right side of the bed a door led to what Cramer assumed was an ensuite bathroom, it was slightly ajar and a light was on.
‘Is anyone there?’ he called out. There was no reply and he advanced towards the door, cautiously pushing it open. Slumped over the bath was a man’s lifeless body and a small pool of dark congealed blood. He pushed the door close, telling Laborda to wait outside. A brief inspection of the body told him the deceased had been shot once in the side of the head and had fallen sideways over the bath.
A couple of moments later he invited Laborda to identify the body. The Spaniard, who seemed a little over curious, looked closely at the body and announced it was not Jameson. Then after a moment’s reflection informed Cramer he had seen the dead man with Jameson a couple of days previously on the boat.
There was no arm present and at first view it seemed to be a case of murder. Cramer alerted the criminal investigation department in Bayonne, but there was nothing he could do at the crime scene until a team of forensic scientists arrived.
According to French law, after a serious crime is committed, a procedure is set in motion whereby a prosecutor takes over and an investigating magistrate is appointed to lead the enquiry. The role of the Police Judiciaire, once it had been established a crime had in fact been committed, is to collect evidence, and pursue the perpetrators of the crime pending the appointment of the investigating magistrate. The magistrate then takes charge of the case and police carry out the investigation under his orders.
There were all the signs of an Indian summer in the making as Cramer tried to piece together the mystery of the Jai Alai murder. The thirty three metre ocean going motor yacht, required a full crew of nine and could sleep ten passengers, it flew a Panamanian flag and cost two million euros to run.
The Jai Alai had been bought by Fernando Martínez for more than twenty million euros, and had been sold to a charter company in the Caribbean, owned by Jameson, when Grupo Martínez Construcciones got into difficulties.
Not only the bottom had fallen out of the Spaniard’s property business, but the authorities in Madrid were hot on the trail of his hidden assets. The owners of luxury motor yachts could not give their boats away; it was a buyers’ market, and Jameson taking advantage of the cash strapped owner, persuaded him to transfer the boat to his Caribbean charter company in exchange for a payment in negotiable bonds to avoid the yacht being seized by the bankruptcy court, or tax-man, in a secret deal set up by Hiltermann.
Jameson planned on chartering the Jai Alai in the Caribbean where he figured he could earn one hundred and fifty thousand euros a week all included, which may have seemed expensive, but with the possibility of sleeping ten guests in its five ensuite staterooms and with financial markets picking up again there would be plenty of clients who would prefer a charter to the cost of buying and maintaining such a yacht.
Jameson had arranged to meet Hiltermann in San Sebastian to settle the deal with the Hollander, before embarking for Aruba in the Netherland Antilles on the Jai Alai with a reduced crew and Laborda at the helm.
The dead man was identified as Jaki Loiola, a local town councillor and Basque nationalist sympathiser, who with a cousin was notorious for his links to construction firms in the border region. Cramer suspected the killing was related to the site of a stalled Martínez residential construction project in Hendaye’s town centre.
As with most crimes the first hours and days are the
most important. If during that window of time no clear leads were found the investigation loses its urgency, as new affairs appear, and awaiting new evidence. Such was the case for the Loiola murder investigation. Of course the rumour mill was working flat out, after all the killing of Jaki Loiola was the most sensational case the region had known for decades.
The site in question, occupied by a supermarket, had been acquired by Halfon, through the intermediary of Loiola. Loiola then arranged a building permit for Halfon, who then sold the land to Martínez Construcciones for a substantial profit. Days after the sale of the land, Martínez went into receivership and the project stalled, leaving large payments of money outstanding. It appeared that Loiola had been received a kickback relating to the building permit, but refused all responsibility when Martínez went under, pocketing the cash. It surprised nobody and was not the first time that Loiola and his cousin had been involved in bent property deals with in Hendaye and St Jean de Luz involving promoters on the other side of the border.
At the very same moment Cramer discovered the crime scene on the Jai Alai, another gruesome discovery was made by a chambermaid in the Hôtel du Palais in Biarritz. She found a body sprawled across the bed in Halfon’s suite. The victim was later identified as Sid Judge, a British citizen and small time swindler, wanted by police in the UK and Florida. Judge had been, it appeared, involved in a holiday home scam operating from Dakar in Senegal. He had been shot once in the chest; according to the police report he had died immediately. There was no sign of a struggle and the drinks delivered to the room at seven the previous evening had been barely touched. The ‘do not disturb’ sign had been left of the door of the suite.
Two days later as admiring tourists watched, the Jai Alai weighed anchor and gracefully slipped out of Hendaye’s marina. The motor yacht was last seen passing Cabo Higuer, heading out into the Bay of Biscay. Certain witnesses were said to have recognised Laborda at the helm, others claimed they had seen Jameson. Whatever. Both men had disappeared and given the power and the range of the ocean going yacht it had disappeared before the police and authorities woke up to its sudden departure.
Chapter 34 JAMESON
The mid-August bank holiday was not a good moment to have a fire. As the St Jean de Luz fire fighters struggled to reach the fire they were confronted with a heavy tailback of holidaymakers and day-trippers. The crowd had been forced to abandon the beach en masse, after a sudden and violent west wind, an Enbata as the Basques called it, hit them, whipping up dense clouds of sand as it swept up the coast.
The manor was almost two kilometres to the south of Urrugne and it was twenty minutes before the fire-fighters entered into Jameson’s property. The first to arrive on the scene had been the immediate neighbours who were helpless. The huge manor and its dependencies were ablaze. Tall flames reached up into the sky surrounded by swirling clouds of white and black smoke. There was no visible sign of life. The onlookers could do nothing but stand and watch the grim spectacle of the magnificent 17th century buildings being consumed by the inferno. The fire-fighters quickly set their pumps up by the large swimming pool, but their task was hopeless and it was not until well past midnight that last flames were finally doused.
Halfon, Jameson’s business partner, was contacted at the Hôtel du Palais in Biarritz, where he sometimes stayed at weekends. To his knowledge Jameson was not travelling. It was Sunday and his partner’s cell phone was switched off, perhaps he was visiting, or had gone sailing on his boat the Jai Alai, as he often did at weekends.
The next morning the police arrived on the scene to assist the fire-fighters raking through the remains of the manor in search of possible victims. The officer in charge of the enquiry, Commissaire Jacques Cramer of the Police Judiciare in Bayonne, took note of the boat’s name and called the capitanerie at the Hendaye Marina. He was informed the Jai Alai was at its mooring, but there was no sign of activity.
With few answers to his questions Cramer ordered the property to be sealed off. Specialists of the INPS, the forensic police department, would be called in the next day for a detailed inspection of the burnt-out ruins. In the meantime, neighbours informed Cramer, Jameson’s known next of kin lived overseas, it seemed he was divorced, his son was believed to be living in Ireland and his daughter in London.
In view of the damage and Jameson’s absence, Cramer decided it would be in order to check out the boat. The capitanerie had informed him the person best informed on the comings and goings on board was the boat’s Spanish skipper, Jose Laborda, who rented an apartment nearby the town hall in the centre of Hendaye Ville.
Cramer called Laborda and fifteen minutes later picked him up for a visit to the marina, a short minute drive away. The Spaniard showed the way to the harbour. On arrival at the capitanerie, he pointed to the Jai Alai, but strangely the Commissaire seemed to have difficult in seeing it, which struck him as bizarre given the thirty metre Guy Couach motor yacht was the least difficult boat to spot in the marina. It was by far the largest vessel present, moored on the quai with its fantail almost staring them in the face.
There was however no problem with Commissaire’s eyes, it was he could simply not imagine such a huge boat belonging to Jameson, even if he was well-off.
Cramer felt non-plussed as he was led down the ramp onto the pontoon towards the afterdeck of the motor yacht and Laborda producing a set of keys opened the doors to the lounge area. The Commissaire, a cynical flic, who had visited the homes of many wealthy and famous people during his long carrier in the police, was taken aback by the luxury of the Jai Alai. The lounge alone was larger than his own living room, decorated and furnished in the style of a petro-dollar emir.
Everything seemed in order. Laborda pointed to a stairway that led the way down to the next deck and a dining room, followed by another lounge, a galley and other areas. On the dining room table was a bottle of whisky and two empty glasses. Laborda indicated the staterooms were below on another deck and Cramer followed him still agape at the size and luxury of the boat.
He found himself in a narrow corridor, to the left and right were cabins and to the forward a stateroom. There was nothing unusual in the luxuriously appointed cabins. Laborda then pointed to the main stateroom. It covered the full width of the boat. Facing them was a king-size bed that had been slept in, to the right side of the bed a door led to what Cramer assumed was an ensuite bathroom, it was slightly ajar and a light was on.
‘Is anyone there?’ he called out. There was no reply and he advanced towards the door, cautiously pushing it open. Slumped over the bath was a man’s lifeless body and a small pool of dark congealed blood. He pushed the door close, telling Laborda to wait outside. A brief inspection of the body told him the deceased had been shot once in the side of the head and had fallen sideways over the bath.
A couple of moments later he invited Laborda to identify the body. The Spaniard, who seemed a little over curious, looked closely at the body and announced it was not Jameson. Then after a moment’s reflection informed Cramer he had seen the dead man with Jameson a couple of days previously on the boat.
There was no arm present and at first view it seemed to be a case of murder. Cramer alerted the criminal investigation department in Bayonne, but there was nothing he could do at the crime scene until a team of forensic scientists arrived.
According to French law, after a serious crime is committed, a procedure is set in motion whereby a prosecutor takes over and an investigating magistrate is appointed to lead the enquiry. The role of the Police Judiciaire, once it had been established a crime had in fact been committed, is to collect evidence, and pursue the perpetrators of the crime pending the appointment of the investigating magistrate. The magistrate then takes charge of the case and police carry out the investigation under his orders.
There were all the signs of an Indian summer in the making as Cramer tried to piece together the mystery of the Jai Alai murder. The thirty three metre ocean going motor yacht, required a full crew of nine and could sleep ten passengers, it flew a Panamanian flag and cost two million euros to run.
The Jai Alai had been bought by Fernando Martínez for more than twenty million euros, and had been sold to a charter company in the Caribbean, owned by Jameson, when Grupo Martínez Construcciones got into difficulties.
Not only the bottom had fallen out of the Spaniard’s property business, but the authorities in Madrid were hot on the trail of his hidden assets. The owners of luxury motor yachts could not give their boats away; it was a buyers’ market, and Jameson taking advantage of the cash strapped owner, persuaded him to transfer the boat to his Caribbean charter company in exchange for a payment in negotiable bonds to avoid the yacht being seized by the bankruptcy court, or tax-man, in a secret deal set up by Hiltermann.
Jameson planned on chartering the Jai Alai in the Caribbean where he figured he could earn one hundred and fifty thousand euros a week all included, which may have seemed expensive, but with the possibility of sleeping ten guests in its five ensuite staterooms and with financial markets picking up again there would be plenty of clients who would prefer a charter to the cost of buying and maintaining such a yacht.
Jameson had arranged to meet Hiltermann in San Sebastian to settle the deal with the Hollander, before embarking for Aruba in the Netherland Antilles on the Jai Alai with a reduced crew and Laborda at the helm.
The dead man was identified as Jaki Loiola, a local town councillor and Basque nationalist sympathiser, who with a cousin was notorious for his links to construction firms in the border region. Cramer suspected the killing was related to the site of a stalled Martínez residential construction project in Hendaye’s town centre.
As with most crimes the first hours and days are the
The site in question, occupied by a supermarket, had been acquired by Halfon, through the intermediary of Loiola. Loiola then arranged a building permit for Halfon, who then sold the land to Martínez Construcciones for a substantial profit. Days after the sale of the land, Martínez went into receivership and the project stalled, leaving large payments of money outstanding. It appeared that Loiola had been received a kickback relating to the building permit, but refused all responsibility when Martínez went under, pocketing the cash. It surprised nobody and was not the first time that Loiola and his cousin had been involved in bent property deals with in Hendaye and St Jean de Luz involving promoters on the other side of the border.
At the very same moment Cramer discovered the crime scene on the Jai Alai, another gruesome discovery was made by a chambermaid in the Hôtel du Palais in Biarritz. She found a body sprawled across the bed in Halfon’s suite. The victim was later identified as Sid Judge, a British citizen and small time swindler, wanted by police in the UK and Florida. Judge had been, it appeared, involved in a holiday home scam operating from Dakar in Senegal. He had been shot once in the chest; according to the police report he had died immediately. There was no sign of a struggle and the drinks delivered to the room at seven the previous evening had been barely touched. The ‘do not disturb’ sign had been left of the door of the suite.
Two days later as admiring tourists watched, the Jai Alai weighed anchor and gracefully slipped out of Hendaye’s marina. The motor yacht was last seen passing Cabo Higuer, heading out into the Bay of Biscay. Certain witnesses were said to have recognised Laborda at the helm, others claimed they had seen Jameson. Whatever. Both men had disappeared and given the power and the range of the ocean going yacht it had disappeared before the police and authorities woke up to its sudden departure.
Chapter 34 JAMESON