It was always my understanding that once the security forces entered Tivoli Gardens, the foremost objective would have been to take out by any means necessary the urban guerrilla fighters aka armed gunmen who were firing at them and that in such an exercise, with soldiers involved, it would have been near impossible to avoid innocent civilian casualties.

It is still my belief that many innocents died in Tivoli and that the majority of the gunmen fled after the first attack.

Remember now, those who had declared themselves enemies of the state had taken the fight to the state by first torching police stations and killing police and soldiers on Mountain View Avenue. Unlike middle-class communities like, say, Meadowbrook and Havendale, and upper-middle-class suburbs like Cherry Gardens and Jacks Hill where the borders are less delineated, Tivoli Gardens is much smaller, much more cohesive in its social, cultural and sub-cultural values, and over the years, the security forces would have built up a hefty dossier on the many criminal negatives of that state within a state.

In other words, as the soldiers and policemen entered, they did so with no Bibles in their hands ready to read anyone any beatitudes. It would be gun for gun and superior fire for fire. And more subtle than subconsciously, it would be blood for blood.

A few days after the list of casualties began to grow, there were many in the society, from the posh, gated $70-million uptown enclaves to the little man struggling with his monthly rent of $10,000, crying out: “Dem fi dead. Di whole a dem support it. Dem fi dead!”

Then three Thursdays ago in the wee hours of the morning (2 o’clock), the quiet air above Kirkland Heights exploded with heavy arms gunfire that drove fear into the hearts of all who were there and all who were near. The fear among those living nearby was that gunmen had taken their violence uptown, and as they had done in Spanish Town a few days earlier, roving bands of them were taking out their vengeance on the docility of Jamaica’s better-off, the upper middle class.

When the skies cleared and the blood pressures returned to normal, it came to us that Keith Clarke, a friend and drinking buddy of mine in the mid to late 1980s, and like me a Kingston College old boy, had met his tragic end by the bullets of soldiers.

For the docile upper middle class, some were prepared to change their views on the deaths of innocents in Tivoli Gardens in this imperfect time in this very troubled Jamaica. A young businesswoman, aged 32, insisted: “It different, Mark. The people in Tivoli eat off the illegal activities, live off it. I made choices in my life. If you live and eat off illegal activities you also made the choice to die by it. The Keith Clarke death is a puzzle to me. There has to be a bigger story.”

As I understand it, as soldiers swooped down on Clarke’s house at 18 Kirkland Close, flares were fired to guide a helicopter with powerful floodlights flying far overhead. Towards the back of the three-storey house, soldiers with flashlights were searching in the bushes. Searching for what? we are forced to ask.

For the better part of two hours there was a fierce “firefight” and at one stage, for all of five minutes, I heard non-stop gunfire and explosions as if grenades were being used further down the hill from Kirkland Close.

A few days later, on the following Sunday, soldiers swooped down on a house at 17 Sterling Glade where they picked up nine men, said to be close to the Tivoli operations. Could there have been a connection between, or as some have said, a mix-up in addresses at 18 Kirkland Close and 17 Sterling Glades where only about half a mile separates both houses?

It was also said that the house of Justin O’Gilvie, Dudus’s business partner in Incomparable Enterprises was next door to Keith Clarke’s house. Well, O’Gilvie’s house is over 200 metres away, but not on Kirkland Close.

As I understand it, the residents in Clarke’s house were awakened by bright lights outside and a barrage of bullets. Gunmen were suspected, and Clarke and his wife called the police emergency line. They also called the next door neighbour and in a panic asked them to call the police. The responses came back, “Police are in the area and would be there soon.”

Then there was another heavy barrage of bullets as they heard the grilles and doors being broken down. Trying to rise above the panic, Clarke grabbed his wife and daughter and locked them in a bathroom attached to one of the bedrooms. One can only imagine their state of fear and panic at that time.

After that, Clarke left them and took a peep downstairs. Figuring that things had totally spun out of control he returned, locked them in and went to hide behind a closet. By this time, based on what neighbours told me, they heard the shouts of a woman. That would have been Keith’s wife shouting: “I am Dr Claudette Clarke, Justice of the Peace, I am Dr Claudette Clarke, Justice of the Peace,” as she recognised the soldiers, all masked as they burst into the bedroom.

As I understand it, one soldier said to her: “Weh yuh ‘usband deh?” It remains unclear what took place after that, but from piecing info together, as Clarke showed himself he was shot dead. A question which remains unclear is, did he fire his licensed firearm, especially as he must have recognised the men as agents of the state?

An even more puzzling part of the picture surrounds the intensity of the firing, the state of the front of the house (roof, windows and front façade shattered in places by bullets) and the duration of gunfire.

One member of the security forces who wishes to remain nameless told me on Tuesday: “The info we had was that the man was there. Do you believe that we would have fired so many shots if we did not come under heavy gunfire?” Of course, “the man” refers to Dudus.

Again, even if we buy into the info provided by that unnamed member of the security forces that Dudus was at the house, how is it that he eluded them after the premises was TOTALLY surrounded by soldiers and supported by a helicopter with an extremely bright searchlight?

Another question. If we assume that Dudus was at Keith Clarke’s house on that early morning, could not the soldiers lie in wait with special viewing gear until the morning light was available? With bated breath we await the full truth.

observemark@gmail.com