Seductive Poison (46 page)

“Then wait and talk to Marsha,” his real wife’s, Marcie’s, code name.

“Right now, on the radio?”

“No, she’ll come to the capital and talk with you.” Why Marcie? Because she was kind and I wouldn’t fear her hurting me? Would someone come in with her? Someone Marcie didn’t realize would harm me? I could imagine our meeting: she’d beg me to stay, then a sudden scuffle. Marcie would yell for it to stop but it would be over quickly. I would be comatose and ready for transport back in, to Father.

“When? How soon?”

“In a week. Can you wait a week with your plans? Wait and talk to Marsha. Wait for us to finalize the plans with Shirley next month.” His voice soothing again, he wanted me to reconsider and give in.

“In a month?”

“Lucinda, sweetheart, can’t you wait until we have our beloved children safely there?”

“I don’t know.” Could I wait to save the lives of the children? “Jim, I just don’t know.”

“Don’t go to Rex [U.S.A.] … go to Elsie [England] instead. Rex will arrest you. I don’t want to see you go to prison for what you’ve done in the past.”

“You mean, just show up on Elsie’s doorstep?”

“We’ll assist you with Maria [finances].”

“Okay, what do you want me to do?” I felt besieged, I was wavering. I shouldn’t have called, I wasn’t going to be able to go on with this. Jesus, what would Dan think when I told him I couldn’t leave yet?

“Exactly what will I do at Elsie’s?”

“From Elsie’s go to Shirley [Russia].”

“You mean you trust me, after everything I’ve done in the last twenty-four hours, to go to Elsie’s, then Shirley’s?”

Dan handed me a note in large print.

“IT’S TIME TO GO.”

“Yes, you can help us from there with immigration. Lucinda, I trust you …” His voice was melodic and soothing. He did care about me. “I think you’re just very paranoid right now … very, very tired. You need rest, my precious. I have never stopped trusting you.”

“Okay. I’ll go to Elsie’s. But what will I do there? I have no money.” There was a long silence. Warning bells went off in my head and I suddenly realized he was taping me. He was waiting for me to ask for money. He would say that I blackmailed the group for “quiet” money, in return for my silence.

“I have no money,” I repeated. “Where will I stay?”

“Once you’re in Elsie’s parlor [England], go to Shirley’s house [the Russian Embassy]. We will arrange for them to help you.”

“Okay, I’ll fly to Elsie’s,” I responded, completely uncertain of what I was saying.

Dan pushed another note in front of me: “WE’VE GOT TO LEAVE.” I wanted to go home. Annalisa was waiting for me. I needed to tell the consul that I would be arrested, handcuffed, shackled, and taken into custody.

“I’ve got to go now.”

“Wait … Lucinda … I trust you. Will you call me in six hours?”

“Yes, I will call in six hours.” Maybe they wouldn’t follow me anymore.

“Why do you have to go now, darling?” Father’s voice was loving, concerned.

“I just have to,” I pleaded.

“Yes. Well then, we’ll talk again in six hours.” His voice was forgiving. “Until then, Lucinda.”

“Over and out, Father.”

Dan jumped up and grabbed my arm. “What was all that about? Shirley, Elsie, Rex … sounds like a plot for a B movie. C’mon! It’s after two-thirty.” I grabbed my cigarettes and a mango from the tray and followed Dan out the back door. The car was concealed
from view. I climbed into the backseat, curled up into a pill-bug, and remained motionless until we were safely out of town.

“Where’s the consul?” I called from the backseat.

“Coming later. Hell meet us there. I wanna make sure you’re on time. Join me up front. It’s safe.”

“Sure no one followed us?”

Dan looked into his mirror to double-check. “We’re fine. You’ll get some sleep on the plane,” he remarked as if in mid-thought. I liked him … even if he did bungle things.

As we pulled into the airport parking lot, I carefully scanned the area, scrutinizing the color and shape of each vehicle.

“Funny, I don’t see the van. They’re not out here. I wonder where they are?”

“Maybe they aren’t going to follow you.” Dan grabbed his briefcase from the floor next to my feet. “Coming? I want to reconfirm your emergency status on the wait list.”

“Can I wait in the car?”

“You feel safe enough, alone?”

“Safer than inside.” Dan checked to make sure all four doors were locked, then headed swiftly into the terminal. Partially crouched down in the front seat, I kept a steady lookout for any activity in the lot. No new cars pulled in and none left. But I knew they were there.

Dan rapped at the window. It seemed as if he had only been gone for seconds.

“All set. You’re listed. Now we’ll wait for Dick to arrive.”

Relieved, I bit into the warm, sun-baked ham sandwich Dan had packed for me.

And then I felt her before I even saw her.

“They’re here.” My stomach tightened. “Someone just walked into the airport terminal.”

“How do you know it’s them?”

“Just do.”

The consul’s car drove up and took the empty space next to us. He got out, waved to us, and hurried into the terminal. His wife stayed to accompany Dan and me.

“I’m Dick’s wife. You’re a courageous young woman,” she smiled, and put her arms around my shoulder. “Here is a sweater and jeans-jacket so you won’t freeze on the plane. I’m glad Dick was able to get you on his flight. It’s better than your being alone.” She handed
me a piece of paper. “Here’s our phone number and address in Washington. When you get settled, please drop us a note and let us know how you’re doing.” We followed the consul to the ticket counter, Dan behind me, protecting my back.

“Let’s go! Time to check in through Customs.” The consul grabbed my arm and kissed his wife’s lips inches above my head. Pushing me ahead of him, he led us to the front of the line, and into the face of the Customs agent. The consul flashed his official passport and was ushered around me into the restricted area. I didn’t like being left alone.

“Yes, miss?” The agent looked down at me. “Your passport, please.”

“I have everything you need this time,” I smiled at my former adversary.

“And of course, I will just need ten dollars,” he retorted.

“I don’t have any money.”

“Can’t get through without the transfer fee.” He raised his eyebrows. Dan fidgeted in his pocket, then looked frantically around for the consul’s wife.

“Next, please.” The agent summoned the passenger behind me.

“Wait … I have to get on this flight!”

“Yes. Your father’s ill … I know this already. However, I must have your transfer fee.”

I could see Dan running about furiously. I watched in disbelief as the gentleman behind me took my place. My heart began to sink when Dan came rushing back over with an American ten-dollar bill.

“Ten, Guyanese!” the agent scoffed. Not again. Not today. They couldn’t keep me off this plane, too. There was a slight commotion as the consul’s wife stepped forward and hurriedly exchanged Dan’s American bill for a Guyanese bill.

“Good-bye, Debbie.” Dan grabbed me and kissed my cheek. “Promise me you’ll sleep on the plane?”

I hugged him back, too embarrassed to kiss him.

“Good luck, honey.” He waved.

Moving through the Customs area into the “Passengers Only” section, I looked for the consul. I wanted to be near him. Suddenly, someone grabbed my shoulder from behind.

“Debbie, please don’t do this to us! We love you … Jim loves you.” Karen put her head on my neck and began to cry uncontrollably. Poor Karen, I thought. She really cares. Her sobs were getting to me. I rubbed her back and tried to comfort her. When she pulled
away to look at me, I was shocked. Her eyes were bloodshot red and completely dry. Two sleepless nights—not a trace of affection or sorrow—were emanating from her stare.

“How can you do this to Jim … on his birthday?”

She pulled back from me, realizing she wasn’t going to reach me, and abruptly walked away. That was all? I couldn’t believe it. I saw the consul sitting in a window seat, waving to his wife. Dan was beside her, watching me, and I waved to him, relieved I was almost on the plane. Suddenly I saw Dan’s arms motioning to me and he was running toward the Customs agent, trying to gain access to me. Abruptly, a hand grabbed my arm. It was Beth. Not even the American Embassy had the power of Jim Jones in this country.

Beth seemed angry at first but it was feigned and the rage quickly disappeared from her face.

“Why? Why didn’t I realize it?” Hugging me tightly, she began to weep.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Oh, Debbie. I’m not supposed to be crying. Shit! Karen will see me. I’m supposed to be yelling at you,” she whispered through the tears. “Please, Debbie! Just wait. Wait till we can get the children to safety, into Russia. For my sake, for Chioke’s … for the sake of our friends.”

I ached inside, but I did not cry.

“Beth, listen to me. I don’t plan to harm anyone. I just want to return to the U.S. and have my own life. One that only I will be in charge of. I want children, too, like you.”

“But your mother, Debbie. How can you desert her?” I could hear Jim’s directives seeping into her dialogue. She held me tighter, crying and begging me. “Please … Jim’s sick … he’s dying … just wait, Debbie. Oh God, why didn’t you talk to me first?” She wiped her nose.

“I couldn’t. You know that. I’m sorry. I will always …” I stopped. Karen was approaching us. Beth hastily pulled herself together.

“Wait, I have a message for you …” Beth caught her breath and I knew she was trying to repeat the exact words Father uttered to her. “It would ease the mind of the one who cares the most if you just keep in touch.” I looked away from her, out toward the airplane. “Debbie, it isn’t his fault. You never gave him a chance. You never told him. It’s not his fault that we aren’t perfect; you can’t blame him for that.”

“I’m not blaming him. I just don’t like some of the things going on out there.” I looked at Karen.

“You’ve never given him a chance.” Karen glared back at me.

“I shouldn’t have had to.”

I could see the consul urging me to hurry. It was time to board the plane. When Karen turned, I grabbed Beth’s hand. “Beth?”

“I know … me too, Luce,” she whispered, and rushed to catch up with Karen.

I was brokenhearted. The consul came rushing back for me, seized my arm, and pushed me forward, ahead of everyone to the front of the line. The agent opened the doors and pushed me outside. The consul stood back. I was alone out on the airstrip … ahead of the crowd.

I began to walk to the jet wondering why the consul was not at my side. No longer surrounded by people, I began to feel uneasy. The plane’s boarding ramp was fully extended. I reached the metal stairs and could feel
their
eyes watching me. The center of my back began to burn and I felt nauseated. I imagined a gun aimed at my spine. But I did not increase my pace. My steady, deliberate ascent was my statement to
them.

“Welcome to Pan Am.” The stewardess directed me to a seat. “Would you like a blanket and pillow? You look exhausted.” With the pillow under my head and the blanket over my shoulders, I sat and waited for the other passengers to board. Thankful to be alive, I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. I knew I should be sad, that I should cry, but I felt absolutely nothing.

18
Doesn’t Anyone Hear Me?

The cabin shuddered slightly as we leveled off over the sapphire-blue Atlantic Ocean. Beth’s words echoed in my head. “For my sake, for Chioke’s … for the sake of our friends.” I was terrified that I might be sentencing my comrades to death.

I replayed the last forty-eight hours of my escape in my head. I’d been wise to be distrustful of the Embassy and not approach the consul prior to his visit to Jonestown. There was no doubt in my mind he would have half-wittedly divulged my identity. The whole situation had felt surreal from the moment I told the consul of our plan to blackmail him, through the fiasco with my passport stamp and the missing $10 bill. The embassy officials seemed to me like unschooled impostors in a Grandmasters’ chess tournament and each one of their moves had been absurdly orchestrated.

Dick McCoy had not taken my concerns seriously. Dan, too, had not grasped or considered the danger my life was in when he left me alone at the Tower Hotel. These two government officials, the people I had to depend on for my safety, who had to handle the repercussions of my defection in Jonestown, were completely oblivious to my warnings. Anxiously, I approached the consul, determined to get through to him. Dick McCoy had to know more … everything! I hadn’t told him about the foreign bank accounts, that I would be arrested, that I was on the wanted list of the CIA.

The consul looked less powerful sitting in the cramped space of the plane. Just another traveler on my flight back to safety. I tapped his shoulder and asked if we could talk further. He stared at me
blankly as I recounted everything I could remember of importance. I spoke of the smuggling of firearms into Guyana, the diversion of funds to foreign bank accounts, the millions of dollars in assets held by the Temple, the millions in cash buried in Jonestown with mothballs to keep the bills from disintegrating. I spoke of the total control Jim had over all his followers and how no one could get out while everyone wanted to.