“Is he here?” asked the Elder.
“Yes,” the handler said.
“Show him in to the library and let the others know we are ready.”
The man nodded and walked away.
As instructed, the Brother had been escorted to the library and a chair in the middle of the room. Directly in front of him and behind a silk screen were three figures in silhouette.
“Welcome, Brother,” the Elder said. “This is your first encounter in front of the council so let me share with you the rules. From this point forward, you report only to your handler and this council. As of this day, you are the heir and the don and responsible for the Velvet Mafia. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Elder. I understand.”
“When you are here, you must always request permission to speak. When called, you come. Once you have been given a directive, you follow it. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Elder. I understand.”
“We have an assignment for you. After your mark turns the package over to Brother Edelstein, we want you to dispose of Edelstein and bring the package directly to us. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Elder,” the Brother replied.
As expected, Agent Tei Lee had sent the results and Charlie had the information he had hoped for. The latent prints had come back with one match. And not just any match, but the name of the mole inside the bureau and the person Charlie believed was his connection to the underground. Now with the mole identified, finally Charlie had his first real break: a face and a body.
Commander Racine arrived at the safe house on time. He was looking forward to seeing his friend. Miles Racine was one of Charlie’s oldest and dearest friends, and the only person who knew about Charlie’s relationship with Blake’s mother.
“Man, Charlie, it’s so good to see you,” Miles said as he reached for his friend and hugged him. “I haven’t seen you since you took off on your vacation with Blake. Hell that was almost, what … ?”
“Nine months ago now,” Charlie replied. “One day I was fishing and then I was semiretired.” The men laughed because they both knew that semiretired meant Charlie was working on some case.
“So how has it been since you opened up and told Blake the truth?” Miles asked.
“Well, I still haven’t told him everything, but what I have shared with him has been great. We have a bond, Miles, and I owe you for helping me see how important it was to let that young man know he wasn’t alone. When Devon was alive, I didn’t feel like it was necessary to expose what I knew; after all, we barely kept in contact with each other. Well, you know what I mean. Blake barely kept in contact with me even though I knew everything he was doing. But, when Devon died, things changed. In fact, now that we have bonded, I feel like Blake is my biological son and I will do anything — and I mean anything — to protect him.”
“I know, Charlie,” Miles said, “and unfortunately, this case may force you to do just that. I’m baffled, Charlie, and I suspect that if I don’t solve this case soon, there might be more body bags.”
“You’re right,” Charlie replied. “There will be more body bags.”
“What do you mean by that?” Miles asked, a concerned look on his face. “And what makes you so sure?”
“I’m sure because your case and my case are connected,” Charlie replied.
For the next couple of hours, Charlie shared with Miles what he was working on and how the two cases were related. He also told him the latent prints belonged to a rogue agent named Jason Walls, an agent who had been part of the Isabella Cardosa murder investigation.
“Why does that case seem familiar to me?” Racine asked.
“It should be familiar to you,” Charlie replied. “The murder victim was Teddy Alexander’s lover.”
“No, that’s not it, Charlie. Anyway go on.”
Racine continued to listen carefully as Charlie continued to put the pieces together.
“When this kid came to the bureau, Miles, there was something about him that bothered me,” Charlie said. “His ascension up the ranks was one thing. And — trust me — he climbed. Whoever is his benefactor made sure he was well insulated and protected. But that isn’t really what bothered me. He wasn’t the first to come in the bureau with those connections and based on how things work there, he won’t be the last. You know what I mean?”
“I sure do,” Miles replied. “I have several numnuts in the department who followed that trajectory. But you and me … well, we worked our butts off to get where we are today. There are folks in your department as well as mine that if they found themselves in a paper bag, wouldn’t be able to pull themselves out without somebody helping them.”
“You’re right about that!” Charlie slapped Miles’s hand.
“So finish telling me about this agent.”
“Well, like I said, there was something else that troubled me.”
“And what was that?” Miles asked.
“Do you remember when we first got the mysterious call that we could find Dr. Cardosa’s body at that abandoned building?” Charlie asked. “If you recall, it took the bureau and the District police about an hour to find the location, but who was the first person on the scene?”
“Agent Walls?” Miles said, looking at Charlie for affirmation.
“Yep. And do you know what struck me the most about that day and that location?”
“No. What?”
“It was the fact that this kid, this newbie, seemed to be too familiar with his surroundings. It was like he’d been there before and he knew what to look for and where to find it. As my assignment grew, my suspicions of Walls also grew. So I started looking around and found out he was involved with this elite group known as the Velvet Mafia — the same group Councilman Guy Yeager belonged to. I just couldn’t put the pieces together at that time. But then Walls did something again to confirm my suspicions —”
“What?”
“My sources tell me that he was the first person on the scene when they found Kennedy St. John’s body. She was dumped at the same location and on the same date we had found Isabella’s body. This time, he was the lead detective. Now — get this — right now I’m working on this case that not only links all these men together, but now I can add another name to the mix. This time, it’s Lance St. John.”
“Lance St. John from the Washington Herald? Kennedy St. John’s husband?” Racine was surprised. “That’s it, Charlie. I met Agent Walls when the Bureau came in and took jurisdiction over the case. So Lance St. John from the Washington Herald is involved in all this mess?”
“Yep,” Charlie replied, “one and the same. He’s the husband of the murder victim and one of the key people working on this conspiracy theory with Teddy Alexander that links the Velvet Mafia to this group called the Others, which is itself linked to the Illuminati. According to Alexander’s theory, the Others and the Illuminati may be responsible for the world’s AIDS epidemic.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Racine replied. “This has to be a joke.”
“I wish it was, but this is the real deal. Now, there is something else you should know. If you think Guy Yeager murdered his assistant, he probably did. I know for sure he was present when Isabella was killed and he may also be involved in the death of Blake’s brother.”
“If that’s the case,” Miles replied, “maybe the Velvet Mafia killed Taylor.”
“Negative,” Charlie replied. “Your girl was not killed by those boys.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“What I know about these killers is that one person, most likely their don, does all the killing. He seems to take pleasure not only in killing the person but in torturing them before they die. This gives him a sense of power and he is habitual in his behavior. When he kills, he wants you to remember it. The kill itself and how he leaves the body become a psychological form of torture. They’re emblazoned in your mind and stay there forever. So there is no doubt in my mind that whoever killed Taylor was someone else. They may
have been associated with the Velvet Mafia, but it wasn’t a sanctioned hit. But that also means that whoever killed her has a bounty on his head.”
Based on the picture Charlie was painting, Miles was starting to see the connection. Whoever killed Taylor didn’t have a penchant for brutality; they just wanted her dead. And with the latent prints confirming that Agent Walls had something to do with Taylor’s murder, or at a minimum, the disposal of her body, he was convinced that Charlie’s case and his investigation were in fact tied together.
Hearing what Charlie had to say about Yeager didn’t surprise him either. It definitely wasn’t hard for him to believe that Yeager belonged to some organized sadistic group because to him, Yeager was nothing more than a repressed sexual sadist, something out of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. But even with all this news, he still was disappointed. He had hoped that Yeager’s accomplice had been either Jeffries, who had inserted himself into the investigation, or Edelstein, a man he simply could not trust.
Charlie knew he had given his friend just enough information to keep him safe and out of harm’s way. Miles was not only a good cop; he was one of the best. But he wasn’t good enough to handle Eli Edelstein and that’s why Charlie hadn’t told him he believed that the don, the man with the thirst for brutality, was in fact Eli Edelstein. When the time was right and he could better control the situation, he would let him know.
For right now, the two friends agreed they would continue to work their leads as a team. They also agreed that when it came time to make an arrest, Miles would announce to the public that the person who had killed Taylor had had an accomplice and that that accomplice had left latent prints on the evidence collected and on Taylor’s body. The men knew that once he let that information out, Walls would have to make a move.
Charlie also knew that with Miles now in the loop, he had someone he trusted as the backup he needed. Miles, stationed in the District, would be in a better position to watch Edelstein and Yeager. And although Charlie couldn’t prove it, he believed something was about to jump off soon.
Kennedy’s funeral was quiet and modest. Since the police were keeping the identity of the mauled victim found in the warehouse a secret, Lance had determined that to preserve her memory, he would not expose the brutal truth that his beloved wife had died at the hands of a sadist. Instead, he created a lie he could live with. He wanted people to remember Kennedy without the black cloud over her head. Even in death, he wanted to protect her.
Lance tried to keep everything simple — just the way Kennedy would have wanted it. Even her obituary was simple. It said that despite a private and gallant fight, Kennedy had succumbed to a terminal illness. The sanctuary was filled with pictures of Kennedy and with all her favorite fragrances. Flowers and scented candles were everywhere, and the room’s aroma made everyone feel her presence. She may not have been there in the flesh, but she was definitely there in spirit, and everybody knew it.
Since most in attendance hadn’t known Kennedy had been sick, her death came as a surprise. Many people shared stories about their love for her. Some talked about her infectious smile and how she could make people feel comfortable and safe, while others, especially her students, told how she had helped them achieve their dreams.
And much to Lance’s surprise, many talked about her love for him. Lance couldn’t believe what he was hearing. And on a few occasions, he did what any broken man would do: he wept.
At the end of the service, it was Lance’s turn.
“Hello, everyone,” he said as he tried to maintain his composure, tears still finding their way down his face. “I want you all to know that Kennedy loved you. As I look out and see the many faces, I can feel your loss, too. I may have lost my wife and my soul mate, but you lost your friend. For me, and I assume, for you too, her life will always be remembered. I want to thank you for coming and as Kennedy would say at the conclusion of a good party, please remember the arts.”
He stepped down from the podium, and the guests came up one by one to hug him. Person after person said their prayers were with him and that if he needed anything, they were available. Lance thanked them until the last guest had left the sanctuary.
With the last person gone, Lance went back into the sanctuary to say his final good-bye. As he stood over the open casket, Lance marveled at the fact that even in death, Kennedy was beautiful. And for that moment, he was thankful her killers had not mutilated her face as they had done her body. This would be his last good-bye, his last kiss, and his last time to tell her how much he loved her.
By the time Lance ended his earthly relationship with his beloved wife, his tears had found their waterfall. In what felt like a continuous and never-ending moment suspended in time, the pain was overwhelming and his anguish not only consumed him, but also devoured his sense of well-being.
Lance could not find any peace. His mind was riddled with the knowledge that the woman who lay in the wooden box was a coconspirator in the betrayal he felt and its emotional aftermath. As anger welled up inside him, Lance knew his pain would continue as long as —
“Hello, Brother,” Agent Walls said.
“How long have you been standing there?” Lance asked, embarrassed.
“We didn’t mean to startle you, Brother,” Eli replied. “But we have been here for the entire service. You probably didn’t notice because you were so busy attending to things. We are so sorry for your loss. Kennedy was a good woman and as your friend, we are here to provide you with solace and any other support you may need.”
“That’s right, Brother,” Walls said. “We are here to provide you with anything you need. We can help you through this process and we want to help you heal.”
“How can you help me heal?” Lance asked, looking at the strangers. “Do I know you? You know nothing about me or my wife. Can you turn back time? Can you find her killer for me?”
As Lance expressed the darkness that held his heart in shattered pieces, his tears no longer dropped. Now he was angry and held back nothing as he debated with the two strangers.
“Yes!” Eli replied. “We can find her killer for you,” knowing it was he who snapped her neck. “But when we do, what good would that do, Brother? Will you forgive or will you exact revenge? We believe in an eye for an eye. So, what do you believe?”
As expected, the funeral for Basil Rhodes was packed. In the front row were his two ex-wives, all sharing the same feeling of grief and loss for the man they equally loved; and several members of the dissident community all wearing red ribbons in honor of their leader.
Several people shared with the mourners their fondness for Basil and many, including his old colleagues could not help but share how great of a scientist he was. Some lauded his courage to speak truth to power despite the consequences and others apologized for not being better friends, especially in his time of need.
As Teddy and Blake watched from the back row, they held each other in silence. They knew Basil too! He was their friend. To Teddy, he had been her confidante and protector.
“Good morning everyone. My name is Father Michaels. I want to thank everyone who is here today as we say our last good-bye to our warrior friend. As has already been shared by so many, Basil was a great friend as evident by all of you here today. And just like you, I will miss my friend. But what is comforting to know is that he has gone on to be with God and each and every one of us will one day see him again.”
Feeling completing devastated by the loss, Teddy fought to hold her emotions in. Too many people she knew and loved had died too soon.
“Let’s get out of here, Blake,” Teddy said as she fought to hold back her tears. “I have work to do; plus, Basil and Kennedy would want me to finish what we started.”
Chapter 23
EVERYTHING WAS SET up and soon the world would know the truth. Teddy was sure she finally had everything she needed to expose the AIDS conspiracy. The journey to this point had been both long and costly. Three people close to
her had died either trying to expose the truth or simply as casualties of war. Now it was just her and Lance.
The more Teddy thought about it, the more she couldn’t fathom the power and greed that had given the Illuminati the desire to control the world, but — even more unbelievable — religion and fear were what had given them the fuel they needed to create and launch such a horrific plan. They had counted on religious institutions and the world’s fear of gay people to perpetuate hate as the key to keeping everyone ignorant of and helpless to defend against, the weapon’s invasion and destruction.
With the advent of AIDS, preaching about not having protected sex and not using drugs became less important a message than preaching about the sin of homosexuality. It was truly a bait-and-switch scam, and one executed flawlessly, despite the fact that the weapon’s mode of transmission was absolute and never changed. More importantly, AIDS did not have the power to arbitrarily and capriciously discriminate. It did not matter who you were because unprotected sex and drug use was always a venomous combination — the one that made the weapon pernicious.
Once the puppeteers had realized there were unintended benefits, they knew the gay community could use the impact of death and disease on their own to perpetuate the AIDS propaganda. They also knew that while this was going on, unsuspecting populations — specifically the world’s Black and brown populations — would be hit hard for generations to come. So, to ensure that these key populations stayed ignorant, they used their influence within the US government to cover up the disease’s actual origin by suggesting it had emanated from Africa. So cavalier was the Illuminati’s quest to develop a new world order that they allowed their true racist character to emerge by explaining that the biological weapon had begun as a result of savages eating green monkeys. They knew all they had to do was blame Africa for the disease for there to be complete denial by Black people worldwide.
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