Authors: K. J. Janssen
Siblings (20 page)
Maggie drank a glass of wine as she waited for Jason to arrive. She thought about how different things were, now that Jason had set up an appointment for her to abort the fetus she was carrying.
For one thing, she could drink all the wine that she wanted without fear of doing damage to the fetus. While she didn’t smoke or hadn’t taken any drugs in the last three weeks since discovery of her pregnancy, she knew she could if she wanted to. In short, life was going to go back to normal.
She thought about how her mother and father would have reacted to the knowledge of her pregnancy and pending abortion. Marilyn would have had mixed feelings. Being maternal by nature, she would be on the side of Maggie’s keeping the baby. Being practical, she would approve of the abortion for the sake of the family’s reputation; what the family members, friends, and neighbors would think, in other words. In retrospect, Maggie was glad she had suppressed the desire to share her dilemma with her mother. Her father was another case entirely. Maggie had always felt close to her father, and up until now could never have ever conceived of any situation for which she couldn’t take her father into her confidence. She thought about that for a minute.
Drugs, abortions, what depravities have I sunk to, when I can’t even discuss a problem with Daddy?
When Jason arrived he went through the customary litany about the elevator not functioning. “I can’t believe that you and the other residents don’t complain about that elevator being out of service so long. I think that you and the other tenants should get together and have a rent strike. I’d bet that that would get them moving.”
“What are you trying to do, get me evicted? Those kinds of things happen, you know. Lease or not, if they want you out, you’re out. I have more important things to be concerned about than walking up a few flights of stairs.”
Jason looked at her with a look of surprise, “You call five flights a ‘few flights?'”
“Oh, stop complaining. A stud like you shouldn’t have a problem with five flights of stairs. Look at it as exercise; good for your metabolism.”
“I bet that if you had decided to carry that fetus to full term, you’d be singing a different song.”
“Well, I’m not. What do you have to tell me about that?”
“It’s all set up. I’ll tell you all about it after dinner.”
“Always thinking about your stomach, aren’t you? That’s just as well, I have everything ready.”
Maggie served spaghetti and meatballs with fresh everything, bread, and a romaine lettuce side salad.
“What’s for dessert?”
“Do you mind if we have dessert later? I’m anxious to hear about the operation.”
“There isn’t a lot to tell. We’ll check you in as Ms. Otis around eight. The doctor that performs the operation will give you a brief exam to make sure there won’t be any complications.”
She interrupted him, “Will you be able to be there with me?”
“Not in the room itself. They were very specific about that. I have to wait in a recovery room where everyone who has gone through the procedure has to rest for at least two hours before leaving the clinic.”
“I know I should know this stuff, but I never got involved with the abortive procedure at the hospital. Abortions there are very rare. Won’t they allow you to stay if I say it’s okay?”
“I’m afraid not, Mag. There will be a female nurse in the operating room with you. She’ll assist the doctor during the procedure. All in all, we should be separated for only a half hour.”
“That’s a half hour too long, under the circumstances.”
“I know, and I wish I could be in there with you, but after it’s over, and we’ve waited the mandatory time, I’ll drive you back here and we’ll spend the night in each other’s arms. That’s about all I can tell you about it.”
“Do you know if it will hurt?”
“I’ve read that it’s better than childbirth.”
“Well, you’re being real comforting.”
“I’m just kidding. What I’ve read is that it sometimes feels like a menstrual cramp. They will give you a shot to ease the pain and some pain killers to take with you for the next twenty-four hours. After that you should feel normal.”
“I’ll be so glad when this is all over. Promise me that you will always use protection in the future.”
“Don’t worry; there are two things I’ve learned from this experience. The first is that I will never take hallucinogenic drugs again. Actually that’s an easy one. I don’t like being so out of control, anyway. The second thing is that I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Whatever I need to do to make that happen and to make you happy is what I will do. I promise you.” He took her face into his hands and kissed her gently. They hugged for several minutes. “Do you think it’s time for dessert yet?”
“I don’t believe you. Is food the only thing you ever think about?”
He looked at her with a lecherous grin. “Now, I think we both know that that’s not true.”
Ron came home in the middle of the day. He was distraught over a number of issues and badly in need of a drink. He poured some scotch and water into a glass and downed it without the usual cubes of ice. He called out for Marilyn, but when there was no answer, he remembered that it was Wednesday, the day Marilyn went into town.
He went upstairs to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He stood by the sink, looked into the mirror. “Dad, I need you.” Nothing happened, so he repeated, “Dad, I need you now.”
The image of his father slowly appeared in the mirror. “Thank god, you’re here.”
What are you all fired up about, son? Having a bad day?
“
The worst, Dad. My world is crumbling all around me. I don’t know if I can go on.”
Of course you can, Ronnie. There is nothing so bad that we can’t handle it together.
“This isn’t like anything that has ever happened before. I’m pretty sure that Lynn is having an affair and to make matters worse, I’m almost positive that the man is John Hazleton.”
The one you’ve been having trouble with?
“The very same. I knew he’d been seeing someone almost every Wednesday at an apartment he keeps in town. I just found that Lynn has been going to the building every Wednesday. I have pictures to prove it. What I don’t know for sure is if they are sleeping together. I can’t see any other reason for her to visit him at his apartment in the middle of the day. They certainly aren’t planning a surprise birthday party for me. If I ask either one, I’m sure that they’ll deny that anything is going on between them, but the evidence points clearly toward that assumption.”
Does anyone else know about this?
“
The PI I hired knows that Hazleton is having an affair with someone. He gave me the pictures of Hazleton’s visitor, but he doesn’t know who she is. His operative tried to follow her home one day, but she gave him the slip. That alone tells a story. If she wasn’t covering up an affair, why would she need to be so evasive?” Ron sat down sideways on the toilet to avoid looking in the direction of his father’s apparition.
Well, it seems to me that something of this importance will require more concrete evidence before you can confront either one of them. If you want my advice, you should wait until the next visit and surprise them at Hazleton’s apartment. If you catch them together you can have whatever showdown you think is proper. In the meantime, you need to think long and hard about what this affair means to the future of your marriage. You’ve got so many years together and a lot of good times. You supported each other when Wilson was sent to jail. You’ve been through a few financial setbacks and Marilyn’s illness. All in all, from my vantage point, you two have weathered quite a number of storms. You have to decide if this storm will finally break the bond between the two of you. After you’ve made up your mind, then do a little introspection. While you have never broken your vows, I seem to recall that there were several instances where you were almost to that point. There was the time with your secretary, when she entered your office with no clothes on and locked the door behind her. You started toward her with the intent of making love with her on your couch. Only the phone ringing prevented you from going through with it. The call, if
memory serves me
right, was on your private line. It was Marilyn wanting to know if you would be home on time for dinner; she had cooked a leg of lamb, your favorite.
Ron frowned. His brain did a quick flashback to the memory of Janice, his secretary, standing in his office stark naked. Over the six years that she had worked for him he had spent more time than he would like to admit to himself visualizing what he knew lay under the form fitting clothes she wore every day.
“I had almost forgotten about that. You’re absolutely right. I was saved by the bell, so to speak. The bible says that if I think about sleeping with someone it is the same as if I actually do it. That makes me guilty in God’s eyes. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before or since, I might add. I was both flattered and stimulated, but if that phone hadn’t rung when it did, I would have taken her for certain.”
That’s the only reason I brought it up. ‘To thine own self be true’ makes a lot of sense in situations such as this. Even though you didn’t commit the act then and there, you might as well have. Keep that in mind when you judge what Marilyn has done. Neither you nor I can say for certain, but it is possible that that one close call with Janice, if it had actually been consummated, may have led to a lengthy affair. Those things are difficult to stop once they get started. The forbidden fruit tends to titillate. You want to justify having done it once by doing it over and over.
“
I know you’re right, but what should I do?”
I can’t tell you what to do, but don’t let yourself get bogged down by the affair, which will probably be dead in the water with your intervention. What’s most important is that you look at what the future can hold for you and Marilyn. Can you get by the indiscretion and can she overcome the guilt. If you concentrate on that, you’ll know what to do when the time comes. As for how to deal with your partner, only you know what the proper course of action is.
“That’s another thing. I think Lynn must have brokered a truce with him, because he suddenly backed off and even apologized. But that’s not all. We had a break-in at the Center. A lot of stuff was stolen and they broke up some of our furniture and equipment. The PI I hired to investigate Dr. Hazleton discovered that the good doctor is the probable mastermind behind the break-in. If that can be proved; at least one-half of my problems will be resolved.”
That’s incredible. What would motivate a man of his stature to do such a thing?
“Money. It seems that Hazleton is having big-time money problems. I know that the insurance company investigators won’t stop until they get to the bottom of this. If things break too quickly, I may lose the opportunity to catch him and Lynn together. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see how things unfold. Either way, he may be out of the picture soon. That would bring things to a head very quickly with Lynn.”
Well, you think about what I said. Your future happiness depends on the decisions you make now. Don’t be hasty. Take the time to reason everything out. You have a lot invested in your marriage.
“
I will, Dad.” He turned to thank his father, but saw nothing except the blue bathrobe hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
Special Agent in Charge Wendell Zeller was on the phone when Special Agent Byron Hawkins and PO Norman Blaine entered his office. He continued to talk as he motioned to them to sit down. He raised several fingers to signal that he would be on the phone for a few more minutes.
The meeting was arranged by Hawkins as a last ditch effort to convince his SAC to make the case for complete exoneration of Wilson Symington’s 2009 conviction for intent to distribute drugs; this despite the warning he received from Zeller weeks previously to drop the subject. The two men waited patiently as Zeller brought the phone conversation to a halt with “Just get it done. There’s no excuse for any further delay,” followed by a loud slam of the hand-set onto its cradle.
His composure changed as he directed his attention to the two men seated before him.
Hawkins began, “I believe you’ve met Probation Officer Norman Blaine. He asked me to set up this meeting to discuss what he believes is a grave injustice.”
Zeller interrupted before Hawkins could say anymore. “If this is about Wilson Symington, I thought I told you the issue is closed.”
“Yes, sir, you did, but Norm insisted on making a last ditch appeal to convince you that the agency is making a serious mistake in not rewarding the risk that Wilson took during one of the Bureau’s most successful stings in the war against drugs. Norm’s cooperation and help in that operation should at least have earned him a few minutes of your time.”
Zeller thought about it for a few moments, then replied, “Okay, Blaine, you have five minutes, and after that I don’t want to hear another word from either of you about Wilson Symington. Understood?”
Blaine and Hawkins nodded in agreement.
“I think you know where I stand on this matter. I just can’t stand idly by while the bravery of a decent young man, who helped the FBI immeasurably during that operation, goes unrewarded. What can it possibly hurt to exonerate him from the stigma of a minor youthful transgression? Agent Hawkins said that it has been done before, so there shouldn’t be an issue of setting a bad example. Actually, what better precedent could you set than to redeem a youthful transgression and restore a deserving young man to society with a clean slate? That’s all I have to say, except that I implore you to give it more thought.”
Zeller looked at Norm first, and then at Hawkins. “Agent Hawkins, if you had listened to me you could have saved us all time. The investigation is far from complete. The dozens of perps we have in custody have enacted their code of silence called ‘Omerta.’”
He turned and spoke to Norm. “Omerta is a cultural code of silence. To these people, being an informant is the worst possible breach of honor. It is considered a figurative stain on their manhood to cooperate with authorities. It also means that anyone who does talk has an immediate death sentence on their heads, either by the individuals harmed, or by their surrogates. Our Protective Custody Program is filled with thousands of people who testified and then need to disappear from the mob’s radar immediately. The program more than proves our dedication to protecting those who risk their lives to help us. Your poster boy, as I recall, refuses to testify against any of these men. His refusal is the worst kind of Omerta, because he had our confidence and trust. We are stymied in our investigation until we can break one of the lower level hoods. Wilson Symington could help us to do that.”
Norm looked disappointed. “I hear what you’re saying, sir, but that was known by all parties when we solicited his participation. We agreed to proceed under the assumption that his involvement would be off-the-record.”
“How can it be off-the record when we had surveillance equipment assigned to him with his name, address, and phone number? How can it be off-the-record when he was assigned to wear a prototype of our most sophisticated wire? Let’s be brutally frank. Wilson Symington will either cooperate with us by identifying and testifying against some of the key suspects being held, or face the possibility of a federal charge of Obstruction of Justice in addition to a charge of Transportation of a Controlled Substance. Either charge is enough to breach the conditions of his parole and return him to prison. The new charges will put him away for the next thirty to forty years. Let’s see if the reality of going back to jail might not shake him from his complacency. I’m telling you this because I want you to be prepared for what will happen as soon as we put the finishing touches on phase one of our investigations.”
Norm was visibly shaken. “That’s totally unfair and you know it. He was acting under the guidance of one of your agents at all times and also with me, in my role as an Officer of the Court. I’m sure it won’t be too difficult to prove that everything he was involved in was done with your knowledge, if not your consent. If you try to bring charges against Wilson, you’re going to have a fight on your hands. I’m not going to sit idly by while you railroad an innocent boy.” Norm looked at Byron for moral support.
Byron sat silently while Norm vented his spleen. Even though he concurred with everything Norm said, he wasn’t about to jeopardize his ten years with the FBI by going up against his SAC.
“Let me tell you something, mister. I don’t appreciate your coming to my office and issuing veiled threats. The FBI is not standing by idly and letting this investigation languor. We have too much invested. We’re at a critical point with this probe. It’s not just the drugs we’ve kept off the street. By jailing the key players, we’re making a major dent in their operation. But everything hinges on piercing the Omerta and Wilson Symington can help us do that.”
“We both know that his life won’t be worth a plug nickel if the word gets out that he fingered one of these thugs. He’s already had a visit from one of George Abbott’s thugs, warning him to remain silent. He’d have to give up his family and everything and go into hiding. Let me ask you one thing. Your motto is Fidelity, Bravery, and Integrity. I ask you, where is the integrity in the way you are treating this young man?”
Wendell Zeller was silent for what seemed to Norm and Byron an interminable amount of time. That comment from Blaine about “integrity” struck a chord. He was suddenly willing to compromise with the two men if he could get their cooperation.
“Okay, you’ve made your point. Look, we seem to be getting nowhere with this. I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll give you twenty-four hours to convince Mr. Symington to review the arrest mug shots and identify the man who supplied him with the drugs he delivered. I know the supplier probably used a code name, as did he, but a facial ID will help us with our questioning. Once we know who the man is, there’s a chance we can break him. Wilson won’t have to testify if we can apprehend the man and get him to talk.”
Byron finally spoke up. “If he cooperates, what about the pardon?”
“Boy, you’re like a bulldog. Yeah, okay, if everything goes well, I’ll make the recommendation to Justice.”
Norm rose and shook Zeller’s hand. “You won’t regret this, sir. If you can spare Byron for a few hours, we’ll put together a plan to work on Wilson.”
“Remember, I want him here tomorrow at ten. Don’t be late. Okay now, the two of you get out of my office. This isn’t the only thing I have on my plate.”
Out in the lobby, Norm gave Byron a high-five. He pulled out his cell, called Wilson, and asked him to visit his office right away. As far as any surveillance was concerned, it wouldn’t be unusual for a PO to request a meeting in the middle of the day. Very often drug tests are conducted at random and without prior notice.
***
Wilson got time off from the Wallington House and went immediately to Norm’s office. He looked surprised when he saw that Byron was also in attendance. “What do you want now?”
Norm took the lead. “Wilson, we had a meeting with Byron’s SAC, Wendell Zeller, this morning. We went there with a request that he take action to clear you. His reaction wasn’t what we anticipated.”
“You brought me here to tell me that?”
Norm and Byron took turns covering the crux of the initial part of the meeting.
His reaction was predictable. “That’s not fair. I helped you guys. I think my role was pivotal to the success of the raid.”
“No one denies that, Wil. The problem is that the FBI is stymied without sufficient evidence. They need one of the suspects to crack. We want to start with the man who delivered the drugs to you. If he will admit to getting the drugs from the Abbotts and delivering them to you, we’ll have the makings of a solid case and you’ll be off the hook. Omerta or not, once the dominoes start falling, these low-lifes will scramble to make deals. Except for some of the hard-core types at Hopkins’ house, the rest of them are not of the blood culture that guarantees they will remain silent under all conditions. I think that when push comes to shove, the Abbotts might even be among that group. As much as they are wannabes, I don’t see them doing hard time if they can make the right deal. From what I can tell, initially everyone will maintain their silence out of fear of retaliation. They believe that the mob lawyers will get them off completely or with just a slap on the wrist. They are right in that respect. It happens a hell of a lot more than law enforcement likes. The courts are much too lenient with these criminals. Once they find out that they’ve been fingered and that they aren’t important enough for the big bosses to protect, they’ll sing like canaries.”
“So, again, what does that have to do with me?”
“We need you to check some mug shots and tell us who you dealt with, starting with the man who delivered the drugs to you, all the way up to the men you delivered them to and anyone else that was with them, and if you can connect names to the faces, that would be even better. Are you willing to do that much to help us out?”
“Don’t you have surveillance tapes?”
“We do of the house, but the ones at the gazebo were inconclusive. We had a partial loss of the lighting photon and we couldn’t make out any of the features. Your supplier is a key suspect in our investigation and we need a positive ID.”
“What about testifying?”
“I can’t make any promises there. If they can get this guy to talk, they won’t need your testimony. That’s the most I can tell you right now.”
“Then we’re right back where we started from.”
“We are and we aren’t. First of all, my SAC has agreed to limit your involvement to that of an innocent delivery man. He can’t guarantee that you won’t be called to testify under oath, and of course, if they can prove that you lied, you will certainly be prosecuted for perjury. I’m afraid that we’re between the proverbial ‘rock and a hard place’ with this.”
Norm jumped in, “Wait a minute. Maybe we don’t have to be. Maybe we can get a jump on this and level the playing field. Do you have a copy of the mug book?”
“Not with me, but I can get one pretty quickly. Why?”
Norm explained his request. “I hate all this speculation. We don’t even know who’s been picked up. I’m thinking that if I show the book to Wil, without you present, we will at least have some idea of how much evidence Wil will be able to provide. We can meet later without Wil present and compare notes.”
He looked at Wil. “Let me explain what I’m thinking. If Byron isn’t in the room, while you’re looking at the mug shots, it won’t be official. Are you willing to trust me long enough for us to get an idea of where we are with this?”
“Sure, I guess so, but I still don’t understand why you can’t get those guys to talk. I mean, the FBI has a reputation for being good at interrogating witnesses.”
Byron replied, “Of course you’re right, but we’ve also had our share of judges throwing out key evidence because of the way it was obtained. We can’t afford to have that happen with a case as important as this. We’re bending over backward to play by the book. In this case, without a positive ID from you, we don’t know who to concentrate on.” He got up and headed out of the office. “Okay then, I’ll go get the book. I shouldn’t be any more than about ten minutes. When I come back, I’ll leave the book on a chair in your outer office.”
Norm offered Wil a bottle of water. He could see that Wil was still uneasy. “You’re doing the right thing, you know.”
“I guess. At this stage, I don’t see where I’ve got much to lose.”
***
Norm and Byron met a half-hour later.
“Well, that was informative. Wil picked out six faces. He was able to pin a name to four of them; the Abbotts and the two customers, Bodine and Hopkins. The two remaining faces belonged to the man who delivered the drugs to him at the gazebo and a man he talked to at Hopkins’ house the night of the raid.”
Byron asked, “So, where does that leave us?”
Norm said, “Here’s what we need to do. We’ll accompany Wil to Zeller’s office tomorrow morning and he’ll make the same IDs as he did with me. That will get him off of Zeller’s hook for now. With a positive ID on the gazebo man, your people might be able to pressure him into giving up George and Bobby.”
Byron thought about it for a moment. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you at Zeller’s office at ten.”