by Tony Wilson
Chapter 8
When the four of them finally woke up they all quickly realised that they were in really deep Doo Doo. First off they were all taped spread eagled to the wall bars, secondly one of the men in black was cradling the blond bitch’s head in his arms, and he was sobbing quietly, thirdly another of the men in black was hugging the other bitch close to him, and she was sobbing, fourthly none of the black suits had POLICE, DEA, FBI or any other letters of the alphabet printed on the backs of them, and worst of all was number five - El Gordo’s wife was sitting quietly in a chair opposite them.
----Many years ago----
Francesca had enjoyed being brought into the world as a Liebermann, even though her mother had passed away giving birth to her. Her childhood had been idyllic, and she realised from an early age that she owed her father a lot, and so when she reached her eighteenth birthday, and her father suggested that she marry Percival Snoddgrass, an overweight business associate of his, she did so, and he moved into her room on the farm. Within a year she was ‘with child’, and three years later she didn’t know by whom. Her dear little ‘Percival the second’ had been playing with his felt tips one day when an indelible marker got mixed in with them by mistake. ‘Percival the first’ entered the room and his son dutifully put his arms around his father’s neck to give him a hug, but unfortunately the felt tip was still in his hand. Unnoticed by his father a bright orange line was left on the back of his neck, which over the next few days went away, came back, went away again, and then finally came back again, and this answered a lot of questions for Francesca. She had always thought her husband had a bit of a split personality, and wondered why he always had cast iron alibis when the Police came a-calling, even when she knew he was elsewhere, so she had a ‘full, frank and meaningful’ conversation with him, it was long overdue. Almost immediately he burst into tears and told her to stop shouting at him as he wasn’t her husband, then he screeched ‘get in here; she’s giving me a headache’. It turned out that she had not only married Percival Snoddgrass, but she had also ‘married’ his identical twin as well, they had both been sharing her, and the house was so large that an extra room had been secretly created for the other one to reside in when ‘at home’ but ‘not on duty’. As she looked at the twins she was amazed at how identical they really were, then she spotted the only difference, one even they didn’t realise that they had, Percival had a very slight squint to his left eye, and his brother Cedric had one in his right, or was it the other way round? Percival, who was the dominant one of the pair then took charge as her father was having a holiday at the state penitentiary, and he made a command decision, his woman had to be kept in line. Francesca knew that her father had gone to pieces after her mother’s death, and that the stud farm had quickly fallen into decline, with all the stallions and mares eventually being rented out to other breeders, with the proceeds and income being placed into the ‘joint’ account.
This should now be one of life’s little lessons to us all; when you set up a ‘joint’ account - make sure that there are at least two names on it.
Delbert, her father, had his own bank account so he had not noticed this slight oversight, even when his wife’s will had been read. She had not been happy with the way her husband had been behaving recently, getting into drugs and unsavoury company, so when she found out that she was ‘with child’, and there were grave complications, she secretly made a new will. The Stud Farm, horses, adjacent properties and everything else that her parents had left to her, she left to her unborn child, along with the ‘joint account’; but nothing could be touched until the child reached twenty-five years of age. Her father should of course have been very upset at this situation, but unfortunately for him, and fortunately for Francesca, he was stoned out of his mine at the reading, he thought it was hilarious, and as he never made rehab he never understood the consequences of the situation.
After discovering the reality of her marriage life changed dramatically for Francesca, she was to all intent and purposes a prisoner in her own house, she could go nowhere without an ‘escort’. Then her father, who had been starting to make things difficult for ‘the brothers grim’ had an accident in Cell block H. He slipped on a bar of soap in the showers and landed on a toothbrush, a very sharp toothbrush; very careless. Things then got even more unpleasant for Francesca when Harley was released from prison a few months later, the same prison, the same block, and the same shower that her father had been in, and moved in with them. Apparently he had never met her father, but the first thing that he stole on his release was a new toothbrush. The only thing that seemed to go right for her after that was that her husband, the one with the left squint, changed his name to El Gordo; it was much better than Percival Snoddgrass.
Fortunately for Francesca the twins, Harley, Zoomer and Percival the second were all away in Cuba collecting some merchandise on her twenty-fifth birthday (what cruel and heartless customs man was going to slice open a five year olds teddy?) when a solicitor came a-calling. Wisely she sent her minders out of earshot as it turned out that she was now a very wealthy woman in her own right, and all of it was from legally gotten gains. The Solicitor had a shrewd suspicion of what the situation was at the farm, he had represented her father and his associates on more than one occasion, so he had done his homework and had all the forms and bank details to hand, for a price of course, and once all the paperwork had been completed, and his cheque signed, he tried to persuade Francesca to return to the local town with him, she would be safe there, but unfortunately Percival the second was with Percival t... sorry El Gordo, she just could not leave without him, although over the next few years she wished she had, he turned out to be a right chip off the old block. When her husband(s) returned from their successful trip, she asked them for a belated birthday present. As they were ecstatic with the results of their trip (they had no compunction at all at gutting poor teddy), high on sampling the merchandise, and slightly embarrassed at forgetting her birthday (why, I don’t know, they had never remembered one before) they readily agreed to her having a computer, what harm could it do, and so over the next twenty years Francesca not only became a self-taught computer whiz, she also became a financial and stud whiz as well. She accepted the limitations of her life style and settled down to re-assemble her mother’s stud farm, electronically. She matched some of her aging breading stock with some new young blood and it proved an instant success. Her new line then created newer lines, and eventually she was acknowledged as one of the top (unseen) breeders in the Country but, as Topsy would say, ‘all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’, so she started to listen to the father of her son (he had a right eyed squint) as he talked in his sleep.
The Pencil was not like his brother in one important way; he was numeric as against physical. Whilst Percival was quite happy shooting someone, either with a bullet or heroine, Cedric was more at home with a computer, and he quickly became the accountant of the ‘family’, so when he talked in his sleep Francesca knew what he was prattling on about, and she became almost as knowledgeable about the ‘family’ accounts as Cedric, then Cedric branched out and went ‘on line’. The problem with dirty money is that it can cost a small fortune to clean it up (launder it), anything from ten to seventy five cents in the dollar, depending on the amount and where it came from, but Cedric accidentally came across an almost fool proof way of laundering it. He of course kept that little secret to himself, but he put it discreetly about, anonymously of course, that he had a service to offer, at a price - twenty percent. His anonymous source would arrange for $100,000 to be delivered to ‘Pencil’, it always had to be in $100,000 bundles, and on receipt of it he would hand over a bank book tied to a legitimate bank account with $80,000 residing in it. Of course Cedric would ‘win some, lose some’ when he came to the laundering the dirty $100,000 but more often than not he made a small profit, not that he was too worried about it; he was thinking of the ‘bigger picture’. He knew that things could not carry on as they were forever, so he starte
d up his ‘retirement fund’, not the small profit that he made on his twenty percent of the transaction, it was the other eighty percent that he was after. Every legitimate bank account that he created had installed in it a ‘back door’. Computer programmers, when creating a new programme or game routinely installed ‘back doors’ to enable themselves to jump to specific parts, without wading through the whole programme all the time. In the ideal world these were then ‘closed’ when the new programme was ready for distribution, BUT IN REALITY the programmer was usually too busy on his or her next project by then and it was just forgotten about. Enter a snuff film; the Pencil was demonstrating his mastery of the said implement when a nubile young programmer related this information to him, hopefully in exchange for her life. She gave him all the details of how to get into several large banking organisations, and how to create accounts, backwards. The information didn’t do her (or the cameraman) much good but it worked wonders for him. He would electronically enter a bank by his ‘back door ’, pick an amount ($80,000), create an account number for it, choose a fictitious name, then embed his own password in it, so that he could gain access to the whole thing, any time, and give it to some unsuspecting crook for the $100,000. Why didn’t he just take ten million dollars for himself? Someone might just notice it going out. Banks were like water companies, they expected leaks, but they only really got worried when it becomes a torrent. His way, small amounts would be continuously dripping out, to different people, who had no physical or electronic connection with each other, all over the Country, and whilst some accounts would be cleaned out immediately, he could access the others (even if the new owner changed the password) at will. Several of his larger clients had many accounts, and were only withdrawing from one or two, and there were even a few who were depositing funds in them, increasing his ‘nest egg’ even more.
----Back to the present----
After Francesca had been sent to her room by El Gordo she heard the usual sounds, and was pleased that she had been spared the sights, then her two regular escorts stopped escorting. This intrigued her, so she stuck her head out of the door. Jim-Bob placed a finger over her lips and guided her back into the room, ably assisted by his Uzi sub-machine gun. At first Jim-Bob, or as he was also known as - Captain J Decker of the first Ranger Battalion, United States Army (which was a close relative of the British SAS) was a bit sceptical at the calmness of this lady, but soon warmed to her when he realised that she had been waiting for something like this to happen for many years, ‘and she was really glad that he had nice eyes’. He quickly found out that the two sleeping patrol persons were her minders, so ‘would you please be gentle with them’, and Able and Amy, who were in the next room were her ‘live in’ staff. They were over sixty and wouldn’t hurt a fly, but the remainder of the people in the house, four of them in total were up for grabs. He didn’t think that she liked them very much. Unfortunately he had to restrain the three of them, but not too tightly, and then he was eagerly off to join the Limeys, the Frenchie, and the rest of his squad to cause chaos and mayhem, but it was all a bit of an anti-climax really, Pierre could have done it all on his own. Well at least he, Jim-Bob, fearless US Ranger, had single handedly stopped the camera from getting damaged, and as it turned out it was very fortuitous indeed. After all the targets had been subdued he went back to talk to Francesca, he had a feeling that she WANTED to talk, but first he had a request - had she any new sheets in the house.
‘In the bottom draw of the wardrobe in the master bedroom’ she said, ‘but why’.
Jim-Bob then explained that he wanted ‘unsullied’ sheets to wrap Agnetha in, and to preserve Caroline’s modesty.
‘Cut me loose young man’ she demanded, so he did – just like that. She then led him to her bedroom, opened a draw and extracted a beautiful hand sewn sheet, it had intricate patterns all over it, and handed it to him. When she wasn't computing she was embroidering, and the sheet that she had removed had taken her years to complete. ‘I hope this will go some way to making amends for my husband’s actions’ she said, and then took it back from him. ‘Show me where she is’.
Pierre lifted Charlie gently off Agnetha and sat him down on Caroline’s chair, he was in a trance. He then wrapped some towels that he had found around Agnetha, but was then at a loss what to do next, until a rather attractive lady walked into the room and took over. No one but Jim-Bob seemed to know who she was, but if it was Ok by him, he was happy. Caroline was the first to understand what this lady was going to do and disentangled herself from David.
‘David, take Charlie outside’ she ordered, nodding to his weapons. David understood and eased Charlie out of the chair and guided him out of the room, holding him in such a way that ensured that if he did snap out of his trance he couldn’t use any of his weapons. She then got Pierre to gently carry Agnetha into the adjacent shower room, and after laying her on a massage table she dismissed him. Between them the two women, total strangers, went to work on Agnetha. First they pushed the table close to the shower and gently cleaned her; nothing was too personal, and as much evidence as possible was removed of those two animals, and once her hair had been dried and combed out, and some make-up applied to hide a few of the marks, they wrapped Agnetha tightly in the exquisite sheet until only her face, with her closed eyes could be seen. Francesca then recalled that rather nice Frenchman, and had him carry Agnetha gently to her private room, ‘they never visited me here’ she said, ‘they always used my old room’.
Caroline did not understand the full meaning of what this woman meant but she instinctively knew that it was the right thing for Agnetha.
Charlie finally collected his thoughts, and started issuing orders, even to David, and the four main participants were taped to the wall bars, and the remainder, with the exception of Francesca were locked in a secure stable, well away from the main house; after of course first being given the opportunity of a ‘comfort break’. The four miscreants were then given antidotes by Pierre and as they waited for it to have the desired affect Francesca introduced the animals to them, and briefly recounted hers and their life stories. The only time that a tear almost came anywhere near her eyes was when she spoke of her son, but he had over the years followed in his fathers and uncles (whichever way around that was) footsteps. For the last three years she had hardly even seen him, he was always out at the airfield flying aeroplanes, or ripping wings off butterflies.
Jim-Bobs act of kindness to the camera was a godsend for Charlie, so as Jim-Bob set up the equipment, David and Charlie went outside for a ‘full, frank and meaningful’ conversation. David knew just what Agnetha had meant to Charlie, and he understood what was going through Charlie’s mind, sod ‘turn the other cheek’, it was time for ‘an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth’, and nothing that he could say would change it. He pitied the four thugs, not a lot, but a little.
Once Francesca had finished relating her story, and each of the now conscious four men had added their own two-penn’th (Zoomer’s second person vernacular was very enlightening), she was taken to join her friends. Her parting comment to Charlie was, ‘it has been a pleasure never to have met you’, which implied that what she and the other prisoners would be telling the police would not quite be ‘the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth’. What she said to Pierre, in French, made him blush, but he eagerly nodded his agreement.
One of the Rangers had found the farms garage, and parked an SUV outside the main door, alongside the two Black Hawks which, once the excitement had calmed down had ‘relocated’ to be closer to their passengers, and after a tear stained Caroline gave Charlie a big hug and a kiss, and David, Pierre and the Rangers had shaken his hand, they climbed into the waiting Black Hawks and disappeared off into the distance (plausible deniability). The SUV was for Charlie and Agnetha.
’Where have the rest of the losers gone you moron’ Zoomer (one) asked, as Charlie switched on the camera and sound equipment. In reply Charlie pulled out his Magnum .50 Desert E
agle gas operated semi-automatic pistol (he preferred the Israeli version), and placed its large black hole between Zoomer’s eyes. That shut him up, but not Harley.
‘Hey ****head when are you going to ‘Miranda’ us’, he was starting to get a little bit worried at the lack of letters on the back of Charlie’s overalls.
‘You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?’ Charlie recited; his favourite TV program was CSI Miami. Then, to the obvious delight of both Zoomer’s he lowered his pistol, but not all the way down. ‘BANG’ and Zoomer’s ‘wedding tackle’ (another one of Topsy’s favourite sayings) was spread all over the back of the wall bars.
‘Oop’s’, Charlie said.
As his screams slowly subsided, in direct proportion to the amount of blood pouring onto the floor, it then dawned on the other three that the only thing that was in doubt here was ‘how’ they were going to die. Harley was the first to be forthcoming; he had been ripping off the twins for years, so he explained explicitly where all his ill-gotten gains were secreted – hopefully in mitigation for his behaviour. Charlie quickly relocated the said ill-gotten gains into a rucksack, as he had now ‘passed that point of no return’ and would need funds to live on, although according to Francesca this would only be loose change. Once he was satisfied that Harley had nothing further to contribute to the proceedings Charlie exchanged his Desert Eagle for his K-Bar and slid its point inside the top of Harley’s shirt, and then slowly pulled it down. First the front of Harley’s shirt parted, and then his belt, and finally his trousers fell to the floor, or as far as his spread-eagled legs would allow. Harley must then have had a revelation as he clamped his mouth tightly shut, started to shake his head back and forth, and whine. Charlie locked eyes with him and reached down with his free hand. He reversed the K-bar and with one swift stroke he ruined Harley’s chances of becoming a father, permanently. Harley’s eyes and mouth opened wide, but the scream that was about to emit from the gaping orifice was stifled, Charlie rammed Harleys ‘pride and two joys’ into his open mouth, and then pinched his nose. After all movement had ceased he turned to the brothers, ‘see, I can be bought, I wasn’t going to pinch his nose’. It was at this stage of the game that he was glad of the camera, or at least the microphones as the Pencil, perhaps not surprisingly poured forth all the details on his ‘pension funds’, as well as his and his brothers accounts, both on and off shore, along with how to access all the information on his laptop. There was one small problem though; the laptop had a fingerprint reader on it. When Charlie told him ‘his’ solution to that problem, instructions on how to disable the reader were quickly forthcoming. Charlie didn’t think that there was much left for El Gordo to barter with but no, he was full of surprises. ‘How do you think we got away so easily? Half the police are in our pockets’. Then he spilled the beans, big time, and in glorious Technicolor. Once all the vocalising had been concluded both twins whinged that they wanted to be shot in the head,
‘Me first please’,
‘No me first please.
A reasonable enough request from both of them, it would be a relatively pain free demise, but then Charlie thought of what one brother had done to his Agnetha, and what the other one was about to do to Caroline, so he walked slowly into the kitchen and selected two very sharp knives. On return to the gymnasium he walked up to the brothers (they were side by side on the bars), inserted the knives, and slowly pulled them up - and then watched in amazement as the entrails of both brothers entwined on the floor, slowly twisting around long after their owners had expired.
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