“So what else do I need to know about the two dirty deputies?” I asked.
“They be planning to move on to bigger and better things from the petty shake downs and criminal misconduct they enjoy now. They see an opening in the spider’s web and they are looking for a way to exploit it. They need information and they will kill to get it. It isn’t for the work they do but for the life they wish to lead. You are safe today, but tomorrow, you will begin a dangerous period in your life, be careful my friend, for evil forces are on the move and they have decided that you are a threat. Beware of the biker man; he will come dressed as a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” The Oracle spoke as if he had been at the biker bar, knew I had pressed the issue a bit and along the way I had made new friends of the Diablo’s. Was Nolan the spider in The Oracle’s ramblings? For some reason I hesitated to ask. We sat silently for several awkward moments then the Oracle spoke again.
“John, I knows I’ve given you a great deal to ponder before you can accept it. You need time to think it over. To gist the evidence as the police say. You should take your time, think on it awhile. Then comeback and we’ll talk some more. Can I have a gallon jug of the “Nectar”, the Oracle called out, then added. “It is my gift to see things others can’t. You think about what you’ve heard here, but mind what I told you about the others that would do you harm. You’re safe today but tomorrow begins a very dangerous time for you. You will have to choose a path shortly and I hope you will make the right choice, but rest assured either choice you make, we will be friends, just maybe not as close or for as long. Here is my card, if there is ever a reason you need help. No matter how difficult you may think the issue is, call. No matter the time, no matter the day, call! This is a get out jail free card or a save your bacon, card. Call it and I will have my men come to your aid.”
“I don’t get it. It doesn’t make sense, how could you have known all of that?” I grumbled as one of the huge men walked up and set a gallon jug of “Nectar” on the table.
The Oracle smiled and said, “That’s a gift, drink responsibly and don’t drive after more than one drink.” I immediately thought about the two drinks I just had and quickly dismissed the thought. The Oracle then leaned in close and said, “My door is always open to you. If you find you need a safe haven for whatever reason, do not hesitate to call on me. We are friends and that is what friends are for. So go on now, I have other conversations to have with other paying customers. In case you’re looking for a silver lining from out little talk here, it’s that you made a friend John, which isn’t something you do all that often.” The Oracle stated and smiled as I picked up the bottle of God’s Nectar. The statement about the silver lining caught my attention because I said that to myself all the time and here he’s said to me. How did he know?
As I walked away I choose not to address the silver lining comment, while the Oracle had one last parting comment. “Mind the spider, John. It’s lurking in the shadows just waiting for you to become entangled in its web.” The Oracle called over his shoulder, leaving me to wonder who the spider was.
CHAPTER SIX
That morning after checking in at the office, Sheriff’s Detectives Kelly and Washington went by the Sentinel Newspaper to talk with the city editor, James Grafton.
“Hey Jimmy, how’s it hanging here in the bastion of journalism, known as the Sentinel?” Kelly blurted out, as he and Washington stepped into Jimmy’s office. Jimmy jumped up out of his chair, as if he were scared to death at the mere sight of them. As he stood, he shoved the drawer in front of him shut. He’d seen them coming and jumped up to hide the closing of the drawer.
“Jimmy, easy man. You should drink decaf, you won’t be so jumpy.” Washington offered, as he followed Kelly into the office and closed the door.
They’d known Jimmy from way back. Fifteen years way back. Jimmy was cub reporter at the time and Kelly and Washington were both rookie deputies.
They met at a bank robbery with hostages in south Knox County. The standoff lasted for almost twenty-four hours. It was sometime during the night that Jimmy, needing to stay awake, had popped some speed. He had thought he was alone when he did it. After all, he was a quarter mile from the bank in the parking lot for the extra Sheriff, FBI and media vehicles. But he hadn’t been alone. Seated in an unmarked car not thirty feet away were Kelly and Washington. They too had been fighting to stay awake, because they wanted to be in on any action that took place. If anyone was going to get a chance to shoot the bank robbers they wanted to be part of that group. When they saw Jimmy pop the pill, they wanted some for themselves and immediately got out of their car, demanding to know what he had just taken. They only did it, so they would have something to do to keep from falling sleep, but after a couple of minutes of banter and subtle threats, Jimmy had given in and confessed. They had promised to let him go, if he gave them all of his pills and the name of the guy who he got them from. Jimmy had been such a loser back then they easily steamrollered right over him and Jimmy suddenly found himself the object of the two deputy’s attentions for years to come.
For the most part they didn’t shake him down for money, but for information. While he was a reporter they wanted to know the sources for certain stories. The stories they were interested in were about drug dealers and robbery rings. These people had lots of easy cash and there was no chance of them going to the Sheriff for help. It wasn’t long before they were splitting an extra thirty grand a month between them, just to look the other way. That led to the planting misleading evidence in murder cases. On several occasions they framed rival drug dealers for other drug dealers, for a hundred grand a piece.
Overtime as their street creds expanded, Kelly and Washington came to the attention of a Jason Carmel. Jason it turned out was the top boss for organized crime in what they referred to as golden triangle, the place where Tennessee, Virginia and North Carolina came to together. Plus there was a bit of overlap into Georgia, Kentucky and West Virginia. Carmel needed someone suited to the collections end of the business. Not someone to do the daily pickups but someone to go in when the mark refused to pay and the regular enforcers weren’t getting it done. There were a handful of guys that owed Jason Carmel in the hundreds of thousands each. It was typically loan deals, big gambling debts, drug purchases that came up short, the basic everyday run of the mill organized crime deals.
The everyday enforcers went in and broke bones or furniture, but Kelly and Washington they went in and intimidated the mark. They had found that no matter how big and powerful a person was, they always folded when you paraded one of their children out in front of them and held a gun to their pretty little head.
Only once did someone try to run from them. A guy tried to run owing Jason Carmel, two hundred and fifty grand. Kelly and Washington caught up with him in Tupelo, Mississippi, at a Motel Six. He hadn’t even managed to get out of the time zone let alone the country. They killed his wife and children in front of him by chopping them up into little pieces with a fire ax. When they were done with his family, they shot him up with cocaine and heroin. They then stripped the skin off his left arm below the elbow and both of his lower legs using the fire ax as straight razor. He told them where the money was and signed over his business holdings, house and cars, after all, he wasn’t going to need them anymore.
They made it look like he chopped off his own lower left arm in a drug induced frenzy then plunged the ax into his chest. A suicide note was found claiming his businesses had gone belly up and he just couldn’t live with it and his family shouldn’t have to either. It made national news, the murder-suicide of a Knoxville business man. The media didn’t share the details of the murders or the suicide with the public. But someone posted the crime scene pictures on the internet and it was an instant hit with the You Tube crowd.
They kept the Sentinel Newspaper clipping in their wallets so that they could share it with anyone who doubted they would do the things they promised to do if they failed to pay. The newspaper article about what
happened to the guy, along with the You Tube video, stopped all of the runners. They all wanted to make deals now. Kelly and Washington went by the street names of Smith and Jones. They never told anyone who was Smith and who was Jones, though either of them would answer to either name at any given time, making them memorable for something other than being scary as hell.
“Jimmy, we ran into one of your reporters a couple of days ago in of all places ‘The Wild Rose’.” Kelly shared with Jimmy.
“What? Everyone knows they aren’t supposed to go there. Who was it? I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Jimmy stated without any hesitance.
“Jack Carver,” Washington stated curtly.
“Who?” Jimmy instantly replied. “I don’t have a Jack Carver working for me.”
“Jimmy, don’t play games with us.” Kelly retorted thinking maybe Jimmy didn’t want to say anything about the guy for some reason.
“Why would I protect some moron that not only causes me trouble with you but with my bosses due to insurance issues? If I had a Jack Carver working for me, I’d tell you and I’d make sure he didn’t wander into places are off limits. You think I want someone going to the owner/publisher with something like this. Hell no! I like my job.” Jimmy quickly defended himself from the accusation.
“He’s about six foot tall, stocky but not fat. Short hair, brown in color. I’d say he’s fortyish and he dresses crappy. Dockers, golf shirt and a sport coat.” Washington shared a description. “And oh yeah, he kind of looks like a cop.”
“Sounds like he’s someone who works law enforcement if you think he looks like a cop.” Jimmy offered in return and both Kelly and Washington gave him a hard look that made Jimmy squirm a little. “You know the old adage, ‘It takes one to know one’,” he then quickly added.
“We’ll see Jimmy. Put your people on it. Spin it anyway you want, but try to find out who the hell this guy is.” Kelly stated as he and Washington stepped out of his office. “It was good to see you, Jimmy. You should keep in touch maybe we can barbeque some Sunday.” Kelly said as they closed the door. He and Washington shared a knowing smirk as they walked to the elevator.
Jimmy as soon as they were out of sight slumped into his chair and sighed, a big sigh of relief. He then opened the drawer and clicked off the tape recorder.
When Kelly and Washington stepped outside the Sentinels office building, they immediately began speculating about who this Jack Crave was. Neither of them had heard anything about a fed investigation of themselves or the department. They weren’t aware that any of the players in town had added any new blood. So who this guy was, was a mystery, but only for now. They’d put the word out that they wanted Jack Carver and they were confident they’d have him in a day or two at the latest. They just needed to be patient. Another silver lining for me, was Jack Carver didn’t exist.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I’ve been involved with some strange stuff in my life but nothing like The Oracle Mohammad. The man was out there. The really the strange part was, the more I tried to convince myself I had just spent four hours with a nut job; the more I found myself believing in him. It was scary how the man knew everything there was to know about me, even things I hadn’t shared with anyone, which in my case was practically everything. I was the quintessential loner. The only people in town I sort of knew were the waitress at the Morningside Restaurant and Holston. Neither of which I was seeing seriously.
That evening back at the apartment, I sat on the balcony overlooking a wooded ravine and sipped on the God’s Nectar for as it turned out, almost eight hours. I tried my best to analyze everything the old man had said so I could debunk it, but I couldn’t do it. There were just too many things. How in the hell could he possibly known about them? How?
I gave up trying to debunk the old man sometime after dark and switched to trying to figure out exactly what he had told me. I was a bit hungry so I stood up to go inside and get some of the leftover pizza in the refrig, only to discover that walking wasn’t advised after having more than one drink of the God’s Nectar as well as driving. Damn, it was a serious challenge to get inside my apartment through of all things, an open sliding glass door.
That was the last thing I remembered about last night. I woke up this morning half on and half off the couch, still dressed and surprisingly, without a hangover. Though my mouth was so dry, I wondered if I had found some sand to eat before falling asleep. I stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade. I drained it in just a few large gulps before heading for the shower.
Once cleaned up, I went to the Morningside Diner for breakfast and as usual I sat in Betty’s section. Betty was a thirty something woman without a wedding ring and I had heard her talk about her dog but never any children. After my conversation with The Oracle, we both pointing out how unattached to things we were, I’d changed my mind about starting a relationship and thought why not Betty? I guess I was feeling aggressive today because when she came over to take my order, I started asking questions, with all the tact of the Spanish Inquisition.
“So Betty, how long have I been coming in here?” I thought that was a good ice breaker and it just might have been, in a completely different world.
“I don’t know. I know you’re here a lot, but how long you’ve been coming in here? I don’t know. I honestly haven’t paid that close of attention to you. Sorry, was it important?” She asked.
“Oh no, it wasn’t important, I was just wondering why you hadn’t ever said anything to me on a personal level is all. Usually after seeing someone this much, people ask little personal questions. Getting to know each other a little bit.”
“Oh I see, so why haven’t you asked me anything personal, then?” She threw the question right back at me.
“You’re right. I haven’t exactly been a model of public politeness either. So are you married?” I asked with all the subtlety of sledge hammer.
“Is this leading up to you asking me out?” Betty just cut right to the chase.
I hesitated for a moment and then figured why not. She’s straight forward and I really like that. So I cleared my throat and said, “Yes.”
“I don’t even know you name, honey.” She informed me.
“It’s John, John Carpelli. I’m new in town. Well, I was new a year ago. I’m a bit of a loner, though not by choice and I haven’t gotten out much since I got here. I had some health issues to overcome when I arrived in town and now that the broken parts have healed, I think I’m ready to meet people again and get to know my way around town.”
“Wow, that’s an invitation the likes I’d never heard before, but I’m not sure. I mean, you seem like a nice enough man, John but, what type of illness lays you up for a year?” She asked, while looking around at the crowd, as if to make sure no one was listening or watching.
“I had five cracked ribs, two broken ribs and bruised spleen. It happened at work.”
“What kind of work do you do?” Her face was a mask of concern.
“I find things. I’m like a very private, private eye.”
“Oh sure, I’ve known at least a dozen guys in the same line of work. So do you carry a gun?” She was direct, but I could tell she didn’t believe me.
“I have a concealed weapons permit.”
“Do you shoot people?”
“I have shot people, but they shot at me first. You ever had to shoot someone?” I asked as a joke, but she got a faraway look in her eye and changed the subject without answering. I figured that was a raw nerve, one I should avoid it in the future, if there is a future. After a moment, she looked at me and stated.
“I could meet you someplace for a drink later, say around seven at the Sapphire Club downtown. It’s on South Gay St. We can talk some more and see where it goes,” she was making sure she had a way to get away, if I started to act out. Smart.
“Great. Seven it is. Oh, how should I dress?” I inquired.
“Business casual, a little nicer than you have on. No golf shirts.
Do you play golf? I think that’s the only type of shirt I’ve seen you wear.” Betty informed me of my fashion short comings, in no uncertain terms.
“I’ll do some shopping as soon as breakfast is over. I just get used to wearing shirts that allow for easy movement. Golf and T-shirts tend to be the most flexible when I have to get physical and no, I don’t play golf, but I do fish.”
“I don’t know John, you’re scaring me. You sound like you’re a bad man and I don’t want to be involved with a bad man again, so I think I’ll have to…” I interjected.
“Whoa… I’m one of the good guys who occasional works, unintentionally, for bad people. When you’re with me, I’m your body guard. Nothing bad will happen to you because they have to go thru me first. Plus it’s just drinks and you’ll have your own car. You can leave whenever you like. It’s just a drink and we’ll see where it goes. I’m even going to buy a couple of new shirts just for you. I’ll even bring flowers.” Boy, was I reaching.
Betty held up her hand to stop me. “Okay, I’m only agreeing to one semi-date, tonight at seven, at the Sapphire Club on South Gay Street. So is it French toast again?” She asked.
“Are your biscuits and gravy mild or spicy?” I asked trying to show I was unpredictable.
“We have both, which would you like?” she asked in reply.
“I’ll have the mild,” I stated while smiling ear to ear.
“Good choice,” She retorted. “I’ll be back with your milk and OJ in sec hon. Biscuits and gravy coming up.”
We didn’t get a chance to talk again through breakfast. She’d gotten quite a bit busier as the breakfast rush got heavier. I made sure she knew when I was leaving and left my usual decent tip, 30% in her case. Then instead of saying see you tomorrow; I said, “See you at seven.”
To get to know the area, I used needing a new shirt as my excuse to drive up and down Kingston Pike, Knoxville’s main shopping district, finally stopping at the West Town Mall. While out driving I called Holston’ office and set up a meeting at the House of Ale in the Turkey Creek Mall which was a couple of miles west of here. I picked it because I liked the billboard I saw advertising it. Holston wasn’t too happy about having to drive out to the mall but it was far better security to meet in a different, seemingly random place. That way, no one had an easy time following you around or eavesdropping.
Silver Lining - A Carpelli Adventure: Sequel To The Bestselling Thriller Fatal Mistake Page 6