Authors: K. J. Janssen
Siblings (10 page)
Peter and Ron had an appointment with John Hazleton to discuss the proposal from Dr. Marshall Wentworth from Wallington Vein and Laser. Peter stepped into John’s office first with Ron trailing with a chart and easel.
“Good morning, Doctors.” He turned to Ron and gestured to the space next to his desk. “You can set that down there.”
Peter handed John a file. “This is the proposal I told you about yesterday. I spent over four hours with Dr. Wentworth, going over all the details. I ran the figures several times and everything checks out. The way I see it, the space they’ll require will take up one of the vacancies.” He stopped talking to give John a chance to scan through the contents of the file.
He and Ron sat down and waited for John to complete his cursory review of the proposal.
“It certainly does look interesting. I’ve followed Rudolph Lassinger’s work over the years with great interest. I think I might have even met him at a symposium once. The man is a genius and well deserves the reputation attributed to him. What I don’t understand is why he would want to sell his practice and equipment right at the prime of his career?”
“That’s the first question I asked, also. It seems Dr. Lassinger was tired of dealing with patients and simply wanted to concentrate on the development of his innovative surgical instruments and electronic gear. I think that after forty-five years in his practice, he’s certainly earned the right to concentrate on the part of his profession that brings him the most pleasure. Does that make sense to you?”
“Yes, I suppose it does. What about any liens or legal matters tied to his work or equipment?”
Peter looked at John’s question as a positive sign. “Everything is free and clear. He has agreed to indemnify all current and future equipment and patient case work.”
John went back to scanning the file. After a few minutes he looked up again. “What do we know about this Dr. Marshall Wentworth? I don’t recall ever seeing or hearing his name.”
“That’s probably because his practice is north of town. He’s been there for over twenty years. I’m not saying that we should go on that alone, but I would think when a man of Dr. Lassinger’s caliber picked Wentworth to sell his practice and equipment to, that we can’t be too far off supporting him as well.”
“I’m not too sure I agree with that premise. I do agree this has the potential of being a very viable solution to our occupancy problem; however I believe we should do a more thorough vetting of Dr. Wentworth before we go any further. This whole thing seems too good to be true.”
Ron stood up, walked over to the easel, and flipped the blank sheet covering a chart. “I really didn’t want to get into finances today, but Pete’s run some preliminary year-end estimates of our earnings and things don’t look good. As you know, the loss of two of our tenant partners with one of them in arrears has negatively impacted our bottom line. Wallington Vein and Laser agreed to post a three month deposit that we can count as this fiscal’s year income, if we can get it deposited in time. If we accept the proposal, we’ll be in a position to end the year with a very bright outlook.”
John burst out laughing. “Well then, let’s sprinkle some pixie dust around and we can all do a happy dance.”
“Ron made a perfectly valid recommendation, John. There’s no reason for sarcasm.”
“Peter, if you call that dog and pony show, without any solid facts to back it up, a valid recommendation, then I wonder how you’ve managed to be our financial guy for so long. I will not be a party to your attempt to wallpaper over bad operating results. I know that’s what this whole thing is all about. I’m surprised you would try to get that proposal past me. Don’t get me wrong, this may eventually work out. It’s certainly something we will want to investigate, but now isn’t the time to make hasty decisions. That’s what you’re asking me to do and I won’t be rushed into making a decision of this magnitude.”
Ron took a step towards John, but Peter reached out and held him back.
John continued, “Let me make this perfectly clear, in case I neglected to do so before. No new practices will be added or signed before the end of the year. You can leave this information on Wallington Vein and Laser with me and I will assign one of the committee members to investigate its viability. If it’s as good as it looks on the surface, it should eventually go through vetting with flying colors. Now, as far as I’m concerned, this meeting is adjourned.”
“You’ll regret this,” Ron said as he rose to leave. “At our next board meeting I’ll move to remove you as chairman of the New Business Committee.”
“That will be fine with me, Ron, since I’ll be running for your job as CEO. It’s about time we got some fresh blood at the top.” He turned to Peter. “It looks as if we need a complete shakeup, with a new GM too.” He turned away. “Yep, a fresh new start, that’s what we need around here. Maybe we should make a name change as well. How does Wallington Medical Center sound? Yes, I think that will be perfect.”
Peter grabbed Ron by the arm and led him out of Hazleton’s office. Ron’s face was beet red and his fists were clenched. “The nerve of that bastard. How dare he talk to me like that? This isn’t the end of this. We’re far from being defeated. I’m going to call a special meeting of the partners to have Hazleton removed from the NBC immediately and have them vote on Wallington Vein and Laser Center. We should be able to garner enough support to get it approved.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“What do you mean? What choice do we have? You heard him back there; he’s out for our heads. Either we fight him now or we fight him two months from now.”
“I understand that and I agree that we have to put up a defense, but if we go off half-cocked now we may lose everything. Let’s start building some alliances and go at this with a well-planned campaign.”
Ron calmed down. “Maybe you’re right. We’re only going to get one shot at this, let’s make sure that our ducks are in order.”
“Now, that’s what I want to hear. That’s the Dr. Ronald Mason Symington I partnered with to build this Center into what it is today. I’m sure you remember the naysayers that said there wasn’t a need for a medical center in Wallington. We did it once and we’ll do it again.”
“Thanks for reining me in, Peter. I could have done some irreparable harm to our cause. Let that asshole think he chased us off with our tails between our legs. We’ll build a solid case for change at the Center and fix that smug bastard once and for all, and if he decides to pick up his marbles and leave the game, I certainly wouldn’t shed a tear.”
“Now you’re talking. While you’re schmoozing up support for our plan, I’ll revise my report so it looks as if Dr. John Hazleton and his New Business Committee are part of the reason our revenues have fallen short. He’ll get a taste of what a creative financial whiz can do when he’s got his dander up.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“What do you mean? What choice do we have? You heard him back there; he’s out for our heads. Either we fight him now or we fight him two months from now.”
“I agree. Let’s get started.”
Ron and Lynn had just completed a round of lovemaking. Lynn rolled off, reached out for her wine glass, took a big gulp, and rested back on her pillow. “Wow! That was great.”
Ron took a quick sip from his glass and replied, “Yes, it was.”
“You don’t sound too sure.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Lynn, of course it was great. It always is.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, everything’s fine. What makes you ask?”
“When you use that tone of voice with me, I know that something’s bothering you. Now out with it.”
“There’s no fooling you, is there?”
“Not after all these years. What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
“Lynn, I didn’t tell you sooner because I didn’t want to mess up Thanksgiving, but we’re having a financial crunch at the Center. To top it off, Pete and I have a perfect solution to smooth things over, and that bastard Hazleton refuses to consider it.”
“But you’re the CEO. Can’t you just implement your plan?”
“It’s not that simple. It requires that we add two new practices to the Center. The by-laws are very specific: approval from the New Business Committee is required to add a practice to the Center and John Hazleton heads up the committee. There’s no way to get around it.”
“I told you when you expanded the business that giving up any control might come back to haunt you. Sometimes sharing responsibilities isn’t a good idea.”
“I wish I had listened to you then, but that’s water under the bridge now. Pete and I will deal with it somehow. Right now, I just want to enjoy more of you.”
She leaned over and kissed him. Instinctively his hand reached for her breast and he gave it a tender squeeze. He touched her gently, but she could tell the difference between what he meant to be just a passionate caress, and fondling that would culminate in lovemaking. Lynn smiled. They went at it with newly found vigor. Ron seemed to pound her body as if he were attacking a demon.
When they were sated, they had some more wine and lay back in the bed holding hands.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“About what?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Spill it.”
“I wanted to go to the board and ask them to override Hazleton’s decision, but Pete talked me out of it. The rhetoric got real nasty during our meeting with Hazleton. He and I exchanged threats about going after each other’s jobs. In retrospect, that may be the only course of action we have.”
“I’d hate to see you get tied up with this internal bickering. It’s bad publicity and can only hurt the Center’s reputation.”
“I know that, but what can I do? Hazleton is power hungry. He’s not acting in the best interests of the Center. He’s strictly out for himself and his cronies.”
“How can you be so certain he isn’t being sincere? Isn’t it possible that he’s as firmly convinced about lack of viability of your proposals as you are about their economic success?”
“No. In my gut I know he’s just trying to get even for that time I skirted around his authority and convinced his committee to vote against his wishes. I did this while he and Lorraine were off on a cruise and he’s never forgiven me for that.”
“I find it hard to believe he’s held a grudge for all these years.”
“You don’t know John Hazleton like I do.”
Lynn got quiet for a few minutes
.
“Well, even so, there must be some way for the two of you to resolve your differences without a full-fledged confrontation. You’ve been friends for so many years. I can’t believe that your differences can’t be reconciled.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“Well, it seems to me that when the committees are named at the next board meeting you could nominate someone else for chairman of the New Business Committee.”
“I’ve already thought of that, but I’m going to have my hands full covering my own ass. John’s threatened to run for CEO and the smug bastard even wants to change the name of the Center. He wants to replace Pete as General Manager as well. Can you believe that guy?”
“I don’t think that either you or Pete needs to be concerned. You both have personal friends among the board members and the practice owners. I see no reason for any of them to make major changes. Tomorrow you and Pete need to press-the-flesh with as many partners as you need to lock in your support. You have an excellent record and under your leadership, they’ve all prospered. Just remind them of that and you should have all the support you need.”
“You’re right, of course. That’s exactly what we’ll do.”
Lynn rolled over on top of Ron. “But right now, I think there are more important things than Center politics.” She did a grinding motion, rubbing her body over his. He groaned as they entered into conjugal bliss one more time.
Wilson arrived at Sweeney’s ten minutes before the scheduled meeting with his Probation Officer. He picked a booth in the rear of the restaurant and slid over against the wall. He placed the plastic supermarket sack containing the “evidence” on the seat next to him.
“Hi, I’m Sherry. I’ll be your waitress today. Will anyone be joining you?”
“Yes, there will be two more. They should be here in a few minutes.”
“Can I get you anything while you’re waiting?”
“Sure. I’ll have a regular Coke.”
“What size?”
“Make it a large, please.”
“That’s a wise choice. With a large, you have unlimited refills.”
While he waited, Wilson nervously fidgeted with the salt and paper shakers, his napkin with the silverware rolled up inside it, the mustard and ketchup dispensers, and his car keys, moving them around in a series of patterns on the table top. Even though he was facing in that direction, he was so intent with his table-top engineering project that he failed to notice the two men approaching the booth. “Mind if we join you?”
“Oh, Mr. Blaine, I didn’t see you come in.”
Pointing at the items that Wilson had strategically arranged on the table, he added, “Who’s winning?”
Somewhat embarrassed, Wilson answered, “Oh that—I was just killing time.”
“Have you ordered anything yet?”
“I ordered a Coke a few minutes ago.”
Before he could do the required introductions, Sherry appeared. She put the Coke down on a small napkin and turned to the newcomers. “Can I get you gents anything?”
Norm ordered a sandwich and coffee, Byron a piece of pie and coffee. Wilson added a BLT to the order. Byron asked her to put everything on his tab.
Norm waited until the waitress was out of earshot and pointed to Byron. “This here’s Special Agent Byron Hawkins.”
The two men shook hands.
“I’m very pleased to meet you at last. I don’t know if Norm told you, but we’ve been watching the Abbott brothers for almost two years now. They’ve been getting deeper into organized crime and distributing some very dangerous drugs. We’re building a case slowly, but we’re not there yet. That’s where you come in.”
“Just one minute,” Wilson interrupted. “I made my position very clear with Mr. Blaine. I don’t mind telling you that they visited me. You probably knew that anyway. I don’t even mind turning over the recording of our conversation and this evidence. But that’s as far as I’m willing to go. I paid my debt for dealing drugs. I don’t owe society anything but to stay out of trouble and I’ve been doing that. I’m trying to get a better job and find a nicer place to live, and I don’t want my life complicated by getting involved in any drug investigation.”
Special Agent Hawkins let him vent his spleen. When Wilson finished, he reached out for the sack Wilson had just placed on the top of the table. He looked inside it and saw a small audio tape, a hash pipe and a cube of hash. “Thanks for this. I’m glad you had the presence of mind to record the conversation you had with the Abbotts.” He reached into his inside coat pocket to retrieve several four by six photos. He handed them to Wilson and began commenting on them. “That first picture is of Daniel Kane. He was only fourteen when that picture was taken. He’s lying on the street on the corner of Elm and Norton, where he landed after he jumped or fell off the roof of Norton Tower. He had just consumed an experimental drug that the Abbotts supplied to him.”
The look of horror on Wilson’s face told Byron what he needed to know in order to proceed. “The second picture is of two dead babies. They were savagely beaten and drowned by their mother who was out of her head at the time on meth, again supplied by a distributor of the Abbotts. The last picture is of Officer Marvin Turner. It’s not a picture his wife and children would want in their family photo album. He was killed during a raid on a meth lab last month. The place was rigged with explosives and when Officer Turner was gathering evidence, they went off in his face. He died instantly with third degree burns over his entire body, leaving a wife and a newborn boy behind. The meth lab was one of many supplying George and Bobby Abbott.”
Hawkins allowed time for Wilson to look at the pictures for a few more seconds. He knew the pictures were more effective at telling the truth about the horrors of drugs than his words could ever be.
Norm started to speak, but thought better of it, knowing that Hawkins wouldn’t want the mood spoiled with inappropriate words.
The mood was broken, however, by the sudden appearance of Sherry with their lunch. Wilson quickly scooped up the photos he had spread out on the table and laid them face down.
“Thanks, Sherry,” Special Agent Hawkins said. “That should be it for now.”
Hawkins put the tape into a small player and connected the ear buds. “I want to hear this tape while we eat.”
They ate their lunches in complete silence. While Hawkins listened to the recorded conversation, Norm and Wilson mulled over what words would be appropriate once lunch was finished.
Finally, after slurping the last of his Coke through the straw, Wilson spoke. “I know why you showed me these photos and I appreciate that George and Bobby Abbott are really bad dudes, but I already knew that from when I worked for them. I know that when people mess around with drugs, they’re flirting with danger. My heart goes out to the families of the victims, but it isn’t my fight.” He looked directly at Hawkins. “It’s your job and the people in law enforcement to stop these guys. Leave me out of it.”
“Sure it’s our job, Wilson, but sometimes we can’t do it alone. We need law-abiding citizens such as you, to help. We’re so close to shutting down the Abbotts, the gang they work for, the drug suppliers, and the money guys behind it all.”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t get involved. I want to get as far away from that life and its consequences as I possibly can.”
“I understand your point, but tell me how you’re going to pull that off. You just had a visit from the Abbotts and from the recording I just heard it sounds as if they are actively recruiting you. I grant that they were very casual about it, but we both know they can be very persuasive when they choose to be. They aren’t going to take no for an answer. You should know that. They’ll find one way or another to lure you in. They may threaten to harm your family or mess you up at work; even threaten you with bodily harm. Trust me; you are not going to walk away from them. Your only hope is to help us put them away.”
Byron watched Wilson’s face as he spoke. He detected an increasing level of concern. It was time for the coup de grace. “Work with me, before the people you care about get sucked up in this. We’ll protect you and your family if you’ll agree to cooperate.”
Wilson looked at Norm and then at Byron. “I don’t know what to do. What if I agree to work with the FBI and you can’t convict them without my testimony? That would put my family and me in immediate danger. Our lives would never be the same.”
“I won’t lie to you, there is always that risk, but we have a pretty solid case against them, so it shouldn’t be necessary for you to testify. We’ll do everything in our power to keep your name out of it. All we’re going to need from you is information about their distribution network.”
“Wait a minute—I just thought of something. If you shut them down, how are you going to keep my name out of it? You’d have to prosecute me along with all the other distributors, or else they would know that I was helping you.”
“It’s not going to work that way. The Justice Department has changed its tactics due to the number of states legalizing marijuana, so they will not be prosecuting any distributors dealing exclusively in recreational drugs, even hashish. From what you told me, that’s what the Abbotts want you to do.”
“Yes, he’s talking about me having an exclusive territory for the sale of hash.”
“Well, then, that’s perfect. That’s exactly the
in
we’ve been looking for.”
“Wait a minute, Agent Hawkins; I didn’t say I’d do it.”
“Wilson, let me add an incentive. I discussed your case with Mr. Blaine and Wendell Zeller, my Special Agent in Charge. They both agree that you were a victim. It’s obvious that the judge decided to make an example of you and the real culprits got away scot free. You were a good kid with a solid future that just fell in with the wrong crowd. This is your chance to help right that wrong. In return for your full cooperation, Mr. Blaine, my SAC, and I will recommend to the court that the record of your conviction and subsequent confinement be expunged. The FBI is part of the Justice Department, so we have some pull in high places.”
Wilson looked at Hawkins as if he had just heard he won the lottery. “You can really do that?” he asked nervously.
“I can’t guarantee anything, but we’ve been able to do it for several witnesses that have cooperated with us; some involved in much more serious crimes than you were.”
Tears began to well up in Wilson’s eyes. “There is nothing in the world I want more than a clean slate. The realization that for the rest of my life my record will go with me no matter where I go or what I do haunts me.”
“That’s understandable. If you’re willing to work with us, I promise you that we’ll do everything in our power to help you.”
“Okay, what do want me to do?”
***
Later, Wilson sat in the quiet of his tiny apartment, mulling over the events of the past two hours. Finally he was getting a chance to set things right and make his family proud. Mom and Maggie were always in his corner, no matter what, but his father and Richard, they were another matter. Richard probably would never overlook the embarrassment of having a brother involved in a crime, but he longed for the opportunity to regain his father’s acceptance.
His father had always been a strict disciplinarian, which made it even more of a surprise when the news of Wilson’s arrest broke. The first words out of his father’s mouth, when he came down to the police station, were “How could you do such a thing? Didn’t I teach you better than to get involved with drugs? What’s everyone going to think?”
As stern as he was, Ron Symington had never laid a hand on his children. Ron had grown up with a father that used his belt as a disciplinary tool and he swore that if he ever had children he would use words instead of welts to get his message across.
Wilson’s friends all called their male parent “Dad.” They did things with their dads. Even his own brother and sister referred to his father in this manner, but as much as he yearned for the comfort of this address, for some unexplained reason, he never felt comfortable referring to his father as Dad. It wasn’t that he needed the buddy or pal association that usually happened with dads. He realized that with a family of three, that sort of exclusivity was impractical.
Maybe things will change now. Maybe I can finally earn some respect. I sure hope so.