[dropcap]I[/dropcap]got a text from my cousin that she was missing from Thursday night. The last call that they got from her was around 8 o’clock. She said she was on a bus, on her way home. Then from there, on Friday . . . like I didn’t take that serious . . . but then on Friday they send me the pictures of the police vans. There had four of them in the junction. Then from there, I said I was going to go down and find out what’s going on. Then the Saturday morning I prepared myself and I went down town. When I got there . . . I arrived about after one because there was a lot of traffic on the road. Upon arrival I met her sister Nancy and her brother Byral. They were walking up and searching. So I went and change my clothes and I join them. From there, when we reach, there already had officers there. So then they asked me to join them. There had one of the officers who was leading everything. He separated us into two groups. One to search the riverbank going down and the other to search the side going upwards to her home. So I stay with the group that was searching alongside her home. So then we were going. And the officers were going all the way up in the bush. So I told them that’s not possible for someone to kill somebody and bury them all the way up there. ‘Cause normally when somebody die they get heavier. Certainly they would need help, and especially with one person. So then they listen to me and came back down. So we continued going. Not too far I saw a nylon of groceries that they say she was carrying. So I called them and tell them that look . . . look the nylon of groceries they say she was carrying. It look like the person throw it away in the bush. So they told me move away from there and not to trouble the bush. They will call a officer to investigate the matter. So we continue going and just a little higher up . . .”
The preceding are the words of Denver Eugene as he recounted the chilling events of last November. It was the second time in less than a week that he had recalled the details for my purpose. He repeated his original account almost word for word. It was clear his memory of the events was impeccable. However, on the last occasion, as he had on the first, Eugene paused repeatedly, inhaling and exhaling laboringly before continuing.
He went on: “I saw someone scratch dirt and removed stones all about the place. Then when I look I see a pile of stones. So I call my cousin and tell him that. Normally we have always been going through the bush and we never seen that pile of stones there. And the way the person scratch around . . . you know. So then he . . . he start crying . . .”
At this point, realizing that reliving his story was exacting a terrible toll on Eugene, I suggested a pause. But he assured me that he was all right. “In tears Byral start saying to himself, umm ‘bondye pa di mwe se la yo tewe Saadia?’ So then when I look where the person drag the body, you could actually see the mark. So then when I go closer to the pile of stones I’m seeing my cousin body in it.”
By this point, resident readers may have recognized the details supplied me by Denver Eugene are his horrifying recollection of how the lifeless, beat-up and half-naked body of Saadia Byron was discovered in a shallow grave near her Laborie home on November 11 of last year.
Eugene and his relatives have their suspicions as to the identity of Saadia’s killer. He alleges that on several occasions, while accompanying his cousin on her way home at night, he had observed a particular individual—with whom she’d once had an intimate relationship—skulking around, as if waiting to intercept her near the very spot where her ravaged body would be discovered.
“He would even wait hiding in the bush sometimes,” Eugene told me. On one occasion, at her request, Eugene reluctantly left Saadia talking with the man. When he did not see her again for some time he went looking for Saadia, only to discover the man attempting to drag her off against her will. Eugene quickly rescued her. He and his family believe that on November 9 the same man waited for Saadia—with disastrous consequences.
“Had I known that would have happen I wouda make him leave her alone a long time ago,” Eugene assured me. “She was such a nice person. Loving, caring. She was always making us laugh. And her children, I know for sure they miss their mom. Many times they does just stay and tears does just run down their eyes.”
Like so many other Saint Lucians I first heard of the incident at the time of its occurrence. The sad account was all over the media. Nevertheless it was different listening to his heart being
tore apart by every recalled detail.
The police were contacted for an update. They indicated that the case was still under investigation; they are awaiting forensic lab results. Arrests were made soon after the incident but everyone arrested have since been released without charge.
Saadia Byron left behind three children, ages fifteen, twelve and seven years old at the time of her death. Hopefully, her case will not remain forever “under investigation.”
