Velvet Mafia

by Lydia L Watts

  “That’s it,” Blake blurted out. “Now I know how I know this Dr. Rhodes character. It’s coming back to me. Eli and I were at a fundraiser for this national AIDS organization. Dr. Cardosa had won this prestigious award and Dr. Rhodes was her guest. She wanted Rhodes to introduce her and give her award to her. But the sponsors wouldn’t let him do it. Instead, another doctor presented the award.

  “Rhodes took the snub very well. You could tell by some of the chatter in the crowd that some people had expected a different response from him. But he was a gracious gentleman. After everything settled and Dr. Cardosa went to the podium to accept her award, she told the audience she was thankful her peers had recognized her for the work she had done and was doing in AIDS research, but then she shocked everyone by saying she could not accept the award.”

  “Why not?” Charlie asked with anticipation.

  “She used the platform to voice her disapproval of how the scientific community had treated her friend and mentor, Dr. Basil Rhodes. She said she was appalled her colleagues would not allow dissent among the ranks. She basically told everybody off in a kind and elegant way and said that science, in its truest form, had no boundaries. Afterward, I had a chance to meet both her and Dr. Rhodes and I expressed to them how impressed I had been with their words and their demeanor. Here they were, surrounded by a crowd of spectators who had seemed to be anticipating a heavyweight fight, but what they got instead were two people with enough dignity to maintain their composure while in the eye of the storm. I can remember clearly going over to Dr. Cardosa and saying to her that she had probably committed political suicide. And do you know what she said to me, Charlie?”

  “No, what?”

  “She said that if her death prevented the deaths of millions, then so be it. Needless to say, I was stunned by her statement and it was obvious she meant what she said literally and not as an allegory. Right then I told her I would be interested in meeting with her and Dr. Rhodes to further discuss their work. They both agreed to a meeting but it never happened. A few weeks later, she was dead.”

  “Wow,” Charlie said, as he sat down in his favorite chair. “You may not have been able to keep your meeting with Isabella, but we can definitely talk to Dr. Rhodes. When we find Teddy, he is sure to be with her. Then we can find out what Isabella was doing and if there are any other surrounding mysteries. You never know, Blake; maybe what you know will help them, too. Like your mom used to say, ‘There are no coincidences. Everything that happens is in divine order.’”

  Blake knew exactly what Charlie meant. He wasn’t standing in Charlie’s house talking for nothing about his life, his brother’s death and the murder of one of the world’s most renowned scientists. Everything was connected and both he and Charlie were at ground zero, the center of it all.

  “Charlie, do you think all this is connected to AIDS?”

  “I don’t know, son, but what I do know is this: what happens in the dark comes to light. And if the murder of Dr. Isabella Cardosa is connected to the AIDS pandemic, then we are about to get into some really deep shit. I’m sorry for cussing, son, but there really is no other way to describe it.”

  As Eli sat at the restaurant, all he could think about was Yeager and the fact that the councilman seemed to be on everyone’s hit list, especially that of the Others. Timing was everything and he couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that Blake’s obsession with Yeager gave him the perfect cover. To many, Eli was a seasoned power broker as well as the confidante and business partner of Blake Jones, one of the wealthiest men in the world. But to the Others, he was a seasoned assassin and the head of the Velvet Mafia and whatever interest the Others had in Guy Yeager, Eli had an interest, too.

  But for now, all he could do was wait. In order to move forward on the Others’ agenda, he still needed to finalize things with Blake. However, for some odd reason, Blake wasn’t returning his calls.

  Dining out alone was a ritual for Eli. He may have been a broker in DC, but his social skills sometimes were not the best. And the only person who didn’t seem to mind was Blake. As Eli sat at Madjet Res-taurant, his favorite Ethiopian place on K Street, he saw Blake coming out of a little bungalow, the only residential dwelling in the area of businesses, bars and eateries.

  The house and its owners had made the news in the height of the K Street redevelopment era. When the developers had tried to buy the owners out, they wouldn’t sell. Instead, the developers tried to get the District to impose their eminent domain rights, only to find out that the owner had a land patent and not only owned the land, but also the mineral and air rights as well. Hmm … could Blake be making a move on the property?

  Before Blake could leave Eli’s sight, Eli informed his waiter he would be back and to set the table up for two. He wanted to catch Blake before he left, but more importantly, he wanted to know to whom Blake had been talking.

  “Hey, Blake!” Eli yelled as he waited for traffic to pass so he could cross the street.

  “Hey, Eli,” Blake said, extending his hand with his greeting. “Listen, man, I got your calls and I’m sorry I didn’t get back with you earlier. I had some personal things I needed to take care of.”

  “No problem,” Eli replied as he gripped the outstretched hand and stared at the man now standing next to Blake. “I’m just glad we caught up with each other. After my second call, I started to get worried. Then I thought you were giving me one of your infamous patience tests.”

  Blake started to laugh and Eli followed suit.

  “No, man,” Blake said. “I wasn’t testing you this time. I was just busy. I was going to call you once I got to my car.”

  “So, who’s your friend?” Eli said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Eli, this is Charlie Henderson. Charlie, this is Eli Edelstein, my business associate.”

  “It’s nice meeting you, Mr. Edelstein,” Charlie said as he shook Eli’s hand.

  Blake said, “Every so often, Eli, I reach out to Mr. Henderson to see if I can buy his property and instead of being rude to me, he tells me old stories about his family and how they came to acquire the land.”

  “I knew it,” Eli said, obviously pleased with his assessment. “Your little house is like the Queen of the Nile. I would love to hear those stories, too, one day.”

  “Well, maybe one day, Mr. Edelstein,” Charlie said. “But right now I have some other business I need to attend to. It was nice meeting you, young man.”

  “It was nice meeting you, too, Charlie.”

  “Listen, Blake, I’m sitting over at Madjet’s. Come join me when you’ve finished your business with Charlie.”

  “Okay, Eli, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Blake and Charlie made sure Eli was completely out of earshot before they started talking.

  “I didn’t know you knew the history of my house,” Charlie said.

  “Well, actually, I didn’t until today. After we talked and you told me where you lived, I knew the only house on that block was the cottage.”

  “Well, one thing for sure, son — you think fast on your feet.”

  “I’ve been told that many times before,” Blake replied, smiling. “It just seems to come naturally.”

  “I see,” Charlie said, returning the smile. “But, listen, son, there was something about your associate that bears watching. It’s not too often I feel uncomfortable, but I did standing next to him.”

  “Eli?” Blake replied dismissively. “He’s harmless.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Charlie said. “In all my years in the bureau, you begin to recognize things about people and in his case, it was his eyes. If he wasn’t an associate of yours, I would swear he was a cold-blooded killer.”

  “Come on, Charlie. Eli, a cold-blooded killer? It’s time for you to retire. Eli doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”

  Rather than belabor the point, Charlie let it go. He saw no point in trying to convince Blake that his associate required watching. He would do it himself.

&
nbsp; “Listen, Blake, before you go, there is one more question I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Where did you get that picture you sent me?”

  “Devon gave it to me. I thought I told you that.”

  “No. Once we started talking about your brother and Yeager, we never got into all the details. We just moved into our strategy.”

  “So, why do you ask?”

  “I also received an exact copy of that picture and whoever sent it to me signed it as a loving brother.”

  “How could that be, Charlie? The only person who had access to that picture was Devon.”

  “Then Devon sent it to me, too, son.”

  “But why would he do that?” Blake asked. “Did you know Devon?”

  “Not really, but I knew your father. And on occasions when he would visit, I would see Devon.”

  “Unbelievable,” Blake said, completely taken aback by the fact that Devon had reached out to Charlie. “This is getting deeper by the minute. But let’s finish this conversation later. Right now I have Eli to deal with.”

  As Eli sat at his table watching the two men finish their conversation, he couldn’t help but think about what Blake had said about the bungalow. Any new acquisitions were usually discussed with him and to find out that Blake was interested in acquiring the cottage seemed suspicious. The desire to buy the house didn’t make Eli suspicious, but the fact that Blake had never mentioned it to him had him concerned.

  After saying good-bye to Charlie, Blake headed over to Madjet Restaurant to meet Eli. Still thinking about his conversation with Charlie, he knew he had to stay focused. There was no doubt he was on information overload and if he didn’t stay focused, Eli would notice. He also knew he was too invested to blow it, so he had to shake everything off and get into the game.

  “Hey, man,” Blake said as he pulled out the chair to sit down. “Again, I’m sorry about not getting back to you sooner, but I could tell from your first message that everything went as we planned.”

  “Yeah, it did,” Eli said, then sipped from his broth.

  “So, fill me in and don’t leave anything out. I’ve been waiting to hear this story all day.”

  But, before Eli could start to tell his story, Blake motioned to the waiter. “Hi! How are you?” “Fine, Mr. Jones, and thank you for asking. What can I get for you today?”

  “Hey, give me what he has, but hold the green stuff.”

  “Anything else for you, sir?”

  “No, that will be all.”

  “I remember the first time I ate Ethiopian food, Eli,” Blake said. “It was about twenty years ago and my friend Elle took me out to dinner in Adams Morgan.”

  “Oh, yeah? How is she doing?” Eli asked, still enjoying his soup.

  “She’s doing fine. She’s an equity shareholder in one of the biggest law firms in the District.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Eli wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I think I read somewhere she was the top female lobbyist in the District.”

  “It was in the Washingtonian,” Blake replied, “and she was ranked the top female lobbyist in the country. Anyway, let me finish my story before I forget.”

  “Okay,” Eli said, “finish your story. And — I warn you — it better be good.”

  Blake laughed. “So when I looked at the menu, it had all these great-sounding dishes and of course, I ordered what I thought I would enjoy. Elle, on the other hand ordered an appetizer. I think it was shrimp cocktail or something like that. When they brought me my meal, I noticed they didn’t bring me any utensils, so I politely asked for some. I didn’t know that by asking for utensils, I was being culturally insensitive, nor did I know they used their hands to eat their food. And at the time, I didn’t like finger foods. So, when Elle ordered what she ordered, I should have known something was up.”

  “Okay, so what happened?”

  “Well, I ended up leaving all the food on my plate while Elle enjoyed her shrimp cocktail. And afterward, I went to some Jamaican restaurant. I should have known better, but now look at me! I have finally acquired the taste for fine delicacies, even if it means eating with my hands. Anyway, enough of my food stories. Tell me about your meeting with Yeager.”

  “Well, Blake, I did exactly as you said. I called him about 3:00 pm and of course, when he heard it was me, he tried to flex his muscle. At first, I think I came on too strong, especially when I challenged him. He was trying to give me grief about not calling him first thing in the morning. But, once I appealed to his business acumen and shared with him that I had to deal with you without arousing any suspicions, he started to come around. It was great! You should have heard me.”

  “Go on! Tell me what you said,” Blake replied. “And don’t leave out anything.”

  “I basically said he needed to be reasonable. I said, ‘Councilman, you’re a businessman, and so is Blake Jones. If I had stepped away from my planned meeting with Blake and his business associates, he would not only have found it strange and unusual, he would have asked me about it later.’”

  “What did he say after you said that?” Blake asked.

  “Well, I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. I simply said that you didn’t conduct your business in a fashion that allowed outside influences to usurp your agenda. Then I stroked his ego and said, ‘Surely, a man of your stature can understand. And if my instincts serve me correctly, I believe you too would question my actions if I was your confidante and I suddenly got up to make a call during a planned meet-ing.’ At that point, I knew I had him, Blake. From there I went straight for the jugular. I told him I was willing to betray you, but he had to show me what he meant by being able to give me the world if I did.”

  When Blake heard Eli say he was willing to betray him, he felt his insides churn and he began to think about what Charlie had said about Eli being a stone-cold killer. He knew he had to keep his cool. He and Eli had often played poker, so he knew Eli was difficult to bluff and this was one of those times he needed to bluff hard. If not, Eli would know Blake was playing a novelty game like Let It Ride and sense something was up.

  “So, what happened after you told Yeager you would betray me?”

  “Well, at first, he got mad because I had challenged him. Then he asked me if I was playing games with him.”

  “Typical Guy Yeager,” Blake said. He stopped for a sip of water. “Then what happened?”

  “I told him I wasn’t playing a game, but if he wanted my help, I needed to know he could deliver on his promise. Then I told him that if he couldn’t, we didn’t have a deal and the conversation was over.”

  “Spoken like a savvy broker. Then what happened?”

  Before Eli could answer, the waiter brought Blake’s food. To maintain his composure and regain any lost points, Blake spent a moment prepping his meal and then said his grace.

  “Amen! Now let’s eat. This looks wonderful.”

  “Why do you do that?” Eli said, seemingly disgusted that Blake had interrupted their meal by praying.

  As he had many times before, Blake tried to ignore the comment, but this time he just couldn’t. “If you must know, my friend,” Blake said calmly, “I pray over my food like I pray over my life and my day-to-day dealings. Prayer is a reminder that something much bigger than me exists and I should give “Him” deference in all that I do, including when I eat a meal.”

  “Okay, Blake, I got it. Enough with the prophesying. Since when did you become so sensitive and so religious?”

  Realizing that he may have come off too strong for a man trying to maintain his composure, Blake took time to respond. First, he took a bite of his meal and savored the moment. He had to make Eli see that his comment hadn’t bothered him.

  “I’m not sensitive or religious, Eli. You ask me the same question every time we sit down to eat together and tonight I decided to answer.”

  Without any counter response, Eli continued right where he had left off, as if what Blake had said meant
absolutely nothing. “So, anyway, after I told Yeager that if he couldn’t prove to me he could deliver on his promise, the conversation would be over. Then he said that he wanted to talk about it this weekend and he would call me to let me know when and where.”

  “That’s interesting,” Blake said. “So now we need to come up with the goods.”

  “I know. That’s why I wanted to talk to you earlier. For this to work, I need to give Yeager something to show that whatever he has to offer me is worth me betraying you.”

  “You’re right,” Blake said, pushing his meal to the side as if he had suddenly lost his appetite. “And it can’t be just anything. It has to be big enough to catch him. Big enough for him to believe that you’re not only willing to betray me, but you are also willing to destroy me if you have to.”

  “Yes, yes, exactly. That’s it!” Eli said. “He has to believe I will destroy you if I have to.”

  Every hair on Blake’s body stood up upon hearing the excitement in Eli’s voice.

  “Well,” Blake said calmly, “let me think about this. But until then, let’s just finish our dinner and head in for the evening. It’s been a long day. We can pick this conversation up again tomorrow.”

  As the two men finished their dinner, now talking about some of the things happening on the District’s political scene, including the impending likely indictment of Councilman Grey Jeffries, Eli seized the opportunity to slip in another topic.

  “So, Blake, tell me,” Eli said, “how long have you been interested in acquiring the bungalow on K Street? Not that it wouldn’t be a good investment, because it would.”