Like a pigeon come home to roost, this country’s most wanted fugitive, Winston Hall, made his nest last night in the loft at Oistins Police Station, the place from which he escaped four years ago.
Clad in a dark-grey, long-sleeved sweat shirt, multi-coloured jams and barefooted, Hall was flown in on LIAT.
A solitary police jeep was on the tarmac, a “welcoming committee” for the dreadlocked fugitive, brought back to face trial for murder.
But, if the drama of Hall’s escape was “dread” enough, the scene that followed his return was dread. Within moments, as if summoned by some mystery whistle, dozens of curiosity seekers, and people who had a right to be there, crowded the small aircraft to catch a glimpse of the man around whom a legend had grown.
A mad scramble ensued by a small mob of persons who had not been able to get near the action. How they got wind of the fact that Hall would leave the Airport by the unusual exit of the Control Tower area is anybody’s guess. But, there they were, rushing and probing.
Crouched, huddled and shivering like a leaf, dreadlocks sticking out like banners from a haggard face, Hall sat, sandwiched between two officers, in the back seat of the police jeep.
Then it was full speed ahead.
The Press, in their fired zeal to get there first, tried to match the speeding police cars, some six or seven of them, as they raced down Pilgrim Road, Durants and Thornbury Hill.
The convoy had barely stopped when Hall was speedily hustled into the reception area of the police station.
The gates were barred, forbidding entry to the inquisitive public. But, for most, a quick glimpse had been enough. Hall was in custody for sure.