by Don Potter
“Don’t worry whatever you say stays between us. It won’t go any further,” Tim promised.
“It’s good to have a trusted friend like you.”
“Too bad I’m not your trusted husband instead of just a friend.”
“Let’s not go there tonight. I’ll always love you. I’m just not in love with you. It’s not your fault, Tim. We discussed this many times before. It goes back to when I was a kid. Mother always abided by what she believed were the proper rules and my sister and I had to do the same. So we grew up being respectful and appreciative but not particularly warm or caring.”
“When we made love, you seemed passionate enough.”
“Sex is not love. Getting into the moment does not mean I’m willing to let somebody in. Guess I never learned how to open that door.”
“Your mother didn’t do you any favors.”
“Did the best she knew how. But I’m still a work in progress.”
“That’s why you go to the shrink every week?”
“My regular therapy sessions do help. Enough of that, can we get back to the subject that prompted me to prepare this fabulous dinner for you tonight?” Polly laughed politely.
“Okay. Let’s clear the dishes and I’ll wash. You can talk to your heart’s content while you dry them,” Tim said.
“You’ve got a deal.”
“Old apartment buildings are charming, but you’d think they’d upgrade the kitchens and add dishwashers,” Tim complained, halfway through the cleanup chore.
“As long as people will rent them as is that’s the way they’ll stay. Since I don’t cook at home very often, it doesn’t matter to me. Anyway let me tell you about what’s on my mind.”
“I’m all ears.”
“As you know, I’ve got a good job on Wall Street and have been with a top firm for almost ten years. As assistant to one of the top producers, I’m exposed to a great deal of confidential information.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. For years I’ve been hoping you would crack the impenetrable wall so I could make a killing on the market,” Tim chuckled.
“Never did I violate the trust bestowed on me. But during the stormy times the market has gone through in the last few years, I began to notice some irregularities.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed the same thing with my 401K.”
“I’m not talking about fluctuations in portfolio values, I mean trading inside information and manipulating the market by holding back orders, and then buying and selling huge blocks of stock in order to have an impact on the price of shares.”
“I thought that’s what the players already did.”
“Not like this, speculators try to time the market. But what I’m talking about is a conspiracy among the leading firms to pool resources in an informal way so they can share millions of dollars in profits without anyone outside their inner circle being aware of what’s going on.”
“So you’re now part of this band of thieves?”
“Don’t be silly. Let me tell you what happened. One night I was working late while my boss was on a conference call. He used the intercom to ask for some information. I took the data to him and went back to my desk. He left the intercom on or it malfunctioned, so I could hear what he and half-a-dozen other Wall Street biggies were discussing. I was about to go in and tell him about the intercom when I heard one of them talk about how much they made over the last month through their little scheme and what the projections were for the next quarter.”
“What did you do?”
“I got out of there as fast as I could. No way did I want these guys to know that I knew what they were up to.”
“And they found out, right?”
“Only when someone from the Securities and Exchange Commission came snooping around.”
“How did the SEC get involved?”
“They’re always checking on adherence to their rules and regulations. This was probably just a routine matter until I let the cat out of the bag.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Guess I would rather be fired than sent to jail.”
“I hear ya.”
“Turns out going to jail is exactly what these guys will be doing once I testify to the grand jury.”
“Aren’t you afraid? These are powerful people. They’ll do whatever it takes to stop you from testifying against them.”
“They’ll be taking the stand as well. As long as they don’t lie to the grand jury, the lawyers will work out some kind of plea bargain and the story will stay under the radar until the verdicts are handed down. At least that’s how I understand it.”
“Who told you that?”
“The woman from the SEC or Department of Justice. I can’t remember which.”
“Have you spoken to an attorney?”
“That’s something I wanted to ask you about.”
“Let me give you my attorney’s number.” Tim dried his hands and jotted the information on a piece of paper. “If he can’t help you, he’ll know who can. This whole thing smells sorta fishy to me.”
“Don’t be such an alarmist. You talk to me just the way you did when we were together.”
“I’m only offering my opinion. You can do whatever you like.”
“Okay, the dishes are finished. Here’s your coat. Now get out of here before we get into one of those long ‘why aren’t we still married’ discussions.”
“You’ll call the attorney?” Tim said opening the apartment door.
“First thing in the morning.” Polly kissed him on the cheek and closed the door. She sighed, feeling better that she got this matter off her chest.
Casey was shocked when she saw the picture of the person she was hired to kill. She sat perfectly still and stared at the 8X10 glossy print. It was as if she were holding a mirror not a photo. Except for the hairstyle she was looking at a picture of herself.
The target was Casey’s identical twin sister, Polly, whom she had not seen since they buried their father nearly ten years ago. That was when Casey was still with the CIA and Polly had her eyes focused on becoming a Wall Street tycoon.
She had no idea why there was a contract on Polly, especially from the elite group Casey worked for. There must be some mistake. Even though there had been bad blood between them, Casey knew this assassination would never take place.
But how could she arrange for Polly’s safety? To reject the assignment would raise a red flag. The syndicate obviously did not know they were sisters.
June 17th was only a week away, which is the date the twins will be celebrating their fortieth birthdays.
“Did you call the attorney?” Tim waited until mid-afternoon before following up with Polly. He feared she would probably not do as he suggested.
It was Polly’s nature to ask for opinions and not do anything with the information provided. Polly liked to explore her options but usually acted in her own time as she would have before garnering outside input, a trait that may have kept her from rising above the assistant level at work.
“After thinking about it, I believe the best bet for me is to keep a low profile by not seeking legal counsel. I’m not on trial. The government agencies will provide all the help I need. No sense in making this thing bigger than it is.”
“Polly, you’re already in over your head. The government isn’t going to look out for your interests. These financial institutions and their legal counsels will do all they can to disqualify you. They’ll make minced-meat out of you on the witness stand. Going forward on your own is not only foolish, it could be dangerous.”
“Don’t try to scare me into doing what you want me to do.”
“I’m not, but let me tell you ‘whistleblowers’ are not at the top of anybody’s people-I-want-to-hire list. And there can be civil suits and worse.”
“What do you mean by worse?”
“The people you will be hurting financially may be looking at ways to hurt you.”
“My career? Financially? What?”
“How about physically.”
“Come on. Don’t you think this is getting a little dramatic?”
“Since you’re the only witness to the conversation, not having you testify would make life easier for them.”
“The SEC investigation showed irregularities in the way each of the firms handled stock transactions.”
“Yes, these carry fines, but your testimony will show they colluded to commit major crimes. That means loss of reputation, getting kicked off the Exchange and probably jail time along with really big fines. You are their enemy and they are yours.”
“Well I can’t take back what’s been done.”
“But you can protect yourself. So please talk to my attorney or choose another one. It just makes sense.”
“I’ll do it if you promise no more lecturing.”
“Like I asked before, when will you make the call?”
“As soon as you let me get off the phone. God knows I have plenty of time to do it. Remember, I’m on paid furlough until after my appearance before the grand jury.”
“Isn’t that an indication that problems lie ahead?”
“Tim, stop. I’m sold. Let me go so I can make the call.”
“Get back to me after you get some legal advice.”
“The advice may be to not talk to you any more about this.” Polly laughed and Tim joined her.
After reading the files and doing online research, Casey understood why some very rich people wanted Polly dead. And if she did not kill her someone else will. That someone might take great delight in their job. Rape and torture might be their thing.
The thought of this took Casey back to her childhood. Since the twins were too much for their mother to handle, dad was pressed into service at home. He took care of Casey and mother had the primary responsibility for Polly. As a result, Polly got lots of feminine care while Casey grew up as a tomboy with her father treating her as if she were a son. That was until she developed into a pretty young lady. Before she was thirteen he forced her to be his secret sex slave. This continued until she left home five years later. By then, it was too late for Casey to put back the pieces of her broken life. She hated men, particularly those she thought were evil, but she knew how to compete with them mentally and physically and did this in one way or another for the next twenty years.
Casey did not return home until her father’s death. She did so out of respect for her mother. But Casey refused to speak at the memorial service, which resulted in a terrible fight with Polly and reduced her mother to tears. There was no communications between the sisters since then, and Casey did not show up at her mother’s funeral to avoid doing battle with Polly again.
In spite of past problems, Casey felt no ill will toward Polly. She wished she could share her dirty secret with Polly and clear the air once and for all, but Casey thought it best to let this part of the family’s history remain a closed book.
Now the question was how to deal with her sister being a marked woman. Polly could take the assignment and quickly take her out painlessly with no suffering. But that was not going to happen, and Casey was not going to give anyone else the opportunity to kill her sister. Polly deserved a life and Casey intended to start a new life too. She knew it was time for immediate action.
Polly left her Kips Bay apartment on the lower east side of Manhattan to run a few errands and then pick up some things at the grocery store. As she pushed the cart around the aisles of the market, Polly noticed that someone seemed to be following her, a woman wearing a raincoat with sunglasses and a scarf over her head.
“That Tim,” she said to herself, “I let his scare tactics get to me. No one is ‘tailing me’ as he would say. But I must call the attorney once I get home. I don’t know if it will do any good, but it will stop Tim from bugging me,” she thought.
While picking out produce the woman came up to Polly, removed her sunglasses and said, “Please try not to over-react, but it’s me, Casey.”
“No way. What are you doing here?” Stunned, Polly stood perfectly still, holding a sweet potato in each hand, and waited for her estranged sister to say something.
“Finish your shopping and meet me in the coffee shop at the corner. I’ll be in a booth in the back. Don’t do anything out of the ordinary.”
“Why the cloak and dagger stuff?”
“I’ll tell you about it when we get together. See ya in a few minutes.”
Polly was both frightened and confused. She put the sweet potatoes in the basket. When she looked up, Casey was gone. It took all the discipline Polly could muster to keep from leaving the cart right there and chasing after Casey. Five minutes later, Polly checked out and carried the bag of groceries to the corner coffee shop.
“Where have you been and what’s going on?” Polly asked as she placed the bag on the seat and slid into the booth.
“The first question will take a while to explain, but what’s going on is quite simple. You’ve got a problem.”
“Really? How would you know?”
“Come to think of it, let me answer the first question. Got time to hear your older sister’s story?” Casey asked.
“Older by five minutes; you’ve used that line on me from the time you were able to talk. Yes, take all the time you need. Who knows, it might be another ten years before I see you again.”
“Let’s see. Last time we saw each other I was still with the CIA and just got back from a tour of duty in Europe.”
“We had that terrible argument at dad’s funeral. Then you dropped off the face of the earth. Are you still mad at me?”
“Who’s telling this story you or me? And no, I’m not mad; you’re my sister and I love you. As I was saying, then I dropped off the face of the earth.” Casey laughed.
“I promise to zip my lip,” Polly said.
“No you won’t. Just remember, your interruptions will make a long story longer.” Casey waited for a comment. There was none, so she continued
“The CIA thing was getting to be a bit of a bore. Too much red tape, too many restriction and not much of a future as far as I was concerned.”
“I thought you were doing well.”
“I shot a high-ranking Russian guy when a counter-espionage situation got ugly. This squelched my chances to move up in the organization.”
“You never said anything about that.”
“I couldn’t tell you everything about my job. After all it was classified, you know.”
Casey never was much of a talker, but felt the only way to convince her sister about the gravity of the situation was give her the highlights of the past ten years.
“Did the Russian live?” Polly knew the answer.
“No. I was good at what I did.”
“Then what happened?”
“I became an assassin.”
“You what?” Polly’s mouth dropped and her eyebrows arched as she stared in astonishment at her sister.
“Thought that might get your attention.”
“Don’t tease me like that.”
“I’m not teasing. The CIA was ready to cut me loose or station me someplace where I wouldn’t shoot people.”
“You mean there were others?”
“Yes, but they were all in the line of duty. Besides I didn’t use a gun every time.”
“This is too much for me. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“The folks at Langley thought I enjoyed my work too much, that I was a loose cannon. The shrinks tell me it has to do with my lack of trust for authority figures and the rules and regulations imposed on me during childhood.” Casey paused momentarily. “Where was I? Oh yes. About the time the CIA grew tired of me, an acquaintance told me there was an international ‘fix it’ team willing to pay top dollars for those who could eliminate problems.”
“You mean ‘murder for hire’?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“Neither would I if I thought you were telling me the truth.” Polly could not accept the
notion that her sister was an assassin.
“Whether you want to accept it or not, I am telling the truth.”
“Prove it.”
“How about this. I have been hired to kill you.”
Polly dropped her half-empty cup on to the table. Both women moved back to avoid being splattered with coffee. A busboy rushed over and quickly cleaned up the mess. This gave each of the sisters an opportunity to gather their thoughts.
“Somebody with lots of money wants you out of the picture. Do you know why?”
“I didn’t think about this until Tim brought it up.”
“Who’s Tim?”
“We were married for a while.”
“Still together?”
“We got divorced, but we’re friends.”
“Really? How’s that working for ya?” “He wants back in and I...”
“And you don’t know what you want to do.”
“I wish I were like you, Casey. I can’t make fast decisions the way you always did and have the courage to act without over-thinking things.”
“See where it got me?”
Polly provided her sister with the complete details about what she heard and the upcoming grand jury testimony.
“Do you have an attorney? Casey asked.
“Of course,” Polly lied with as straight a face as she could muster.
“No you don’t. In my line of work you can spot a lie from a rookie before they tell it.”
“Well, I have the name of Tim’s attorney and will call him as soon as I get home.”
“There he is again.”
“Who?”
“Tim. Sounds like he knows what you need better than you do.”
“Why?”
“I suspect the Wall Street guys along with their pals in Washington are the ones who put the contract out. We need to talk about you and the job I was hired to do.”
“Is that what I am to you, a job?” Polly could not hold back the tears.
“Of course not. I’m here to protect you. Want proof? Here it is.” Casey opened the project file to reveal Polly’s photograph and pushed the entire package across the table.