by James Ross
Ellie knew how Raymond could manipulate. She wanted to find out exactly what his motives were. “What are you here for?”
“You never know when we can help each other out.”
“Like I said a minute ago, that’s a bunch of bull.” Ellie always felt as if she could see right through the façade that Raymond carried on the outside.
“It’s not a good idea to be adversaries,” Raymond cried.
“What are you fishing for . . . an update on the Zerrmann investigation?” She correctly surmised that Lew had gotten Raymond to do his dirty work for him.
Raymond shrugged. His eyes carefully followed Ellie as she walked back to her desk. She turned again and glared at him. Ellie knew that Raymond and Zerrmann were close associates. “You put the word out that I have his ass. And that’s in spite of the fact that nobody is talking.”
Raymond licked his lips. They were starting to dry at the corners. When that didn’t work he reached for his chap stick and slowly worked it around his oral cavity. He took a big gulp and tried not to give her the impression that what she was talking about was hitting right to the core.
Ellie, still standing, placed both hands on her desk and leaned forward. “Look. Zerrmann has a paper trail that lasts a lifetime, Ray. And I’m not concerned about what politics you bring into this office.”
Her eyes pierced through him. He could do nothing but receive her fury. “I was hoping that we could have had a more enlightening conversation.” In fact, a conversation didn’t really exist. Raymond had pretty much done nothing but listen.
Ellie was still peeved at what had happened years earlier. “I intend to do the same thing to Zerrmann that I did with your other associate. With my recommendation he’ll never see daylight again.”
Raymond had gone in with the full intention of wielding his clout. Instead, he wanted to crawl under the desk.
Ellie knew where Raymond’s next stop was. “Make sure that you pass that word on.”
Chapter Seventy-Four
September 1997 . . .
Lew had his buddies to thank for referring him to the best tax litigator in the area. Garrett O’Connor was a well-established tax authority and worked diligently behind the scenes. He was a licensed certified public accountant and an attorney that specialized in civil and criminal tax controversies. He served on numerous committees and was well connected in the community. His expertise was recognized statewide and, to a small extent, on the national level.
O’Connor had Ellie in somewhat of a pickle. Tax evasion is a crime only if intent can be proven. If intent can’t be proven, then the matter becomes tax avoidance. From a criminal perspective that is a major difference.
Tax avoidance can become a civil issue with the Internal Revenue Service. Tax evasion is a criminal matter with the U. S. Attorney’s office. The major disparity is that with the crime of tax evasion, felony offenses can be charged. A guilty verdict calls for prison time and restitution to the victim, which is the United States government, along with fines and penalties. With tax avoidance the IRS must decide if it wants to sue a taxpayer in civil court.
So, O’Connor used that knowledge and forced Ellie’s hand. His argument was that Lew had not intentionally evaded taxes. Since Lew and Walter kept their mouths shut and didn’t talk, there was no admission of guilt. The two of them stuck together and didn’t allow the government to intimidate them. Therefore, the government had a weaker case against them. Garrett also found out through his connections that Ellie and Peter had a meeting scheduled with attorneys for the government to discuss the viability of the case.
Monty had been working the streets. He kept his ears open. The scuttlebutt was that Ellie was having an affair with a married man. The likely liaison was with a fellow that worked in the U. S. Attorney’s office by the name of Peter Dooley.
The role for Gary Fricke and Larry Fricke was well defined. When Monty handed over the money in the world headquarters of Fricke’s Salvage Yard he also gave the two thugs a digital camera. The instructions to Fricke and Frack were to follow Ellie and Peter on their way to meet the attorneys for the government.
On the morning of the mission Fricke and Frack sat a couple of blocks away from the U. S. Attorney’s office and waited for a white Taurus to leave the secured parking lot. The vehicle would have official government license plates and be driven by Ellie. Peter was to accompany her.
The information that they had received was right on the money. Ellie exited the lot just after eight in the morning and Peter sat beside her in the front seat. Fricke and Frack pulled their SUV out behind them.
Tailing someone isn’t the easiest thing in the world to do. However, in this particular instance, access to the interstate system was elementary. It was easy on and easy off. The two thugs just had to make sure that they had enough gas and were coy enough to not get noticed. Within a couple of minutes they could tell that they were home free. Ellie and Peter frolicked in the front seat and were oblivious to anything that happened around them.
Frack got a charge out of snapping the pictures. While Fricke drove, Frack busied himself with the camera. He took several shots of Ellie and Peter in an animated conversation. A few more shots captured Peter leaning over and giving Ellie a kiss on the cheek and a tongue in her ear. As time went on Frack captured Peter’s head disappearing into Ellie’s lap.
The beauty of their work was that all of the pictures had a date stamp. Plus, Frack made sure that he got the license plate in the frame. He was confident that the shots would look even better when blown up.
Aside from the picture-taking episodes, the trip was non eventful. Acres and acres of Midwestern corn fields passed through the rear view mirror. Halfway through the trip the lovebirds exited I-55 to fill up with gasoline. Fricke followed and maneuvered the SUV to the side lot of a convenience mart.
Frack took several pictures of Ellie, in casual clothes, pumping gas into the car and paying with a credit card at the pump. Peter cleaned the windshield. They embraced and kissed again. Peter grabbed the keys and took the wheel for the drive into Chicago. Fricke pulled out of the lot and quickly settled in comfortably behind them.
“Damn, he’s got a lead foot,” Fricke exclaimed.
“You don’t think that he thinks he’s being tailed do you?”
“Hell, no. Look at them. Get the camera!”
Frack positioned the camera to shoot more pictures. Ellie had scooted closer to Peter and her head disappeared from view. “Did ya get it? Did ya get it?” Fricke yelled.
“Oh, yeah . . . the whole move!”
The men reveled in their success. Their mission had turned into an incredible display of good fortune. Frack got a great shot of the Taurus moving past the Chicago City Limits sign. Ellie had moved over next to Peter for that one.
The two followed them to the downtown Westin Hotel and continued to snare snapshot after snapshot. Peter and Ellie were caught holding hands and checking into the hotel together. Fricke and Frack knew that Monty was going to be very pleased.
~ ~ ~
Two Days Later . . .
Monty had gotten a call and couldn’t wait to pull into the lot of Fricke’s Salvage Yard. Fricke and Frack scurried out to meet him. “Hey boss, we’re due for a bonus,” Fricke gushed.
“What was she up to?” Monty inquired.
Frack handed over the camera. He was quite proud of the work that he accomplished. “She’s quite a little lovebird!”
“Yeah, about the only thing that we don’t have is the audio,” said Fricke. The brothers laughed.
Monty flipped through the memory command on the digital camera. Picture after picture showed Ellie and Peter in some sort of affectionate position. He was shocked that the quality and quantity came out as well as it did. “You two deserve a bonus! This is great stuff,” Monty called out. “Did they have any idea that they were being followed?”
“If they did, it didn’t seem to bother them,” Fricke said with a chuckle. “Look at the two of
them . . . over and over, on every pic.”
He was right. Ellie and Peter put on quite a public display of affection. Monty knew exactly what to do. He seized the camera and headed straight for his car. “I owe you guys one.”
“We know you’re good for it.”
“That’s one job down and one to go.”
Fricke knew that Monty would come through with a nice present after the second job was wrapped up. “We’ll take care of that when the time is right, boss.”
“Good job, guys.” Monty raced the car off of the lot. He had to meet someone.
It was a gorgeous autumn day. The beautiful blue sky was cloudless. A cold front had moved through a few days earlier and had knocked all of the humidity out of the air. Monty went to the local park. That was a favorite spot for him and Raymond. They could walk around the thirty acre lake in anonymity.
The duck population had invaded the area. It was always a challenge to avoid the droppings on the asphalt jogging path. A wind surfer tried to negotiate a two foot wave. That was a tough task on a calm day. A local rowing team practiced their rhythmic strokes in tandem.
Raymond was all too anxious to meet Monty for an extended lunch. “Did anything turn up?’ he asked.
“Are you kidding me?” Monty fired back. He handed the camera to Ray. “Here are your meat and potatoes.”
“What was she up to?”
Monty was quite proud of the hires that he had made. “Flip through the memory. She and Peter were having quite the little fling,” Monty exulted.
Ray viewed shot after shot. A wide grin encompassed his face. “This is what the doctor ordered.”
“Looks like El Cerdo met her match,” Monty exclaimed proudly.
“You don’t suppose that this was on government money, do you?” Ray queried. He was well aware that the dates could be properly documented.
“With those government plates on the car and the date stamps on the pictures I’m sure that someone can easily look at her day timer and figure out what was going on.” Monty relished the thought.
Ray said with a sly smile, “You don’t suppose that these pictures would be enough evidence to open up an investigation for inappropriate behavior, do you?” Raymond was tickled by his own sarcasm.
Monty looked and Ray and laughed. “ . . . Nah. You don’t think that any of this occurred on taxpayer money, do you?” Monty had thought up that payback during his days in prison.
Water spouted out of a spring and cascaded down a hill. It formed a short, but robust waterfall. Raymond stopped and looked at the flowing water. He was buried in thought.
“Screw her!” Monty said viciously. “That bitch got me for one helluva long time!”
“Thanks for the camera, Monty. I know just where do go with this,” Ray chuckled. “El Cerdo. That is a good one, Monty.” He laughed over and over. “Where did you pick that nickname up anyway?”
“Prison gave me quite an education.” Monty couldn’t contain his devilish grin. “I taught myself Spanish.”
Chapter Seventy-Five
November 1997 . . .
The day was gray and overcast. It was one of those late fall days in the Midwest where the sky sort of blends into the trees. Most of the leaves were on the ground. The wind was blowing and the temperature was raw. There were no golfers to be seen. Even the boys stayed at home. It was a nice day to stay inside, warm up a pot of chili, wrap up in a quilt, and read a book in front of the fireplace.
Yet, Lew was bored. His circle of friends was limited and he had nothing to do. Sitting at home didn’t give him the action that he desired and being around the pro shop never made him feel comfortable. He retreated to the objects with which he could relate. After adorning his insulated coveralls he hopped onto his motorcycle and raced over to the golf course.
Lew didn’t bother stopping in the pro shop. He could tell by the looks of the parking lot that only J Dub and Julie were in the building. The weather appeared to discourage even the most optimistic and hearty golfers, no one was playing.
J Dub and Julie were the sole occupants of the clubhouse, aside from Bogey, who was limping around on three legs now. Bogey had managed the best that he could after the accident, but the last year had taken its toll on him. Even though the bandages had long disappeared, the scar from the accident still remained. His days of going eighteen holes with the boys were probably over, but he had managed nine holes as recently as two days before. Bogey had hobbled around on three legs all summer and the extra work had taken a little endurance away from him. His aging body was missing that extra oomph.
J Dub and Julie were taking the break in the weather, stringing up Christmas lights and enjoying the warmth of the clubhouse when the noise of a motorcycle raced by. Julie glanced out the window and saw Lew going full throttle onto the golf course. “What’s he up to today?” she asked J Dub.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Let’s hope that he stays out there and doesn’t come in here to bother us.”
“Do you really think that he would bother to get into the Christmas spirit?” J Dub quipped.
“Are you kidding?” Julie cried out. “He might as well be Scrooge.”
Out on the golf course Lew pulled up to a new bulldozer that the course had acquired from insurance proceeds. He had played on it a few weeks earlier and had left it parked on the side of the eighth fairway. For lack of anything better to do he started the bulldozer up and began moving dirt from one side of the fairway to the other.
It appeared that he was shaving dirt down from the left side of the fairway and carrying it over to the right side of the fairway. Then he would shape some mounds with the dirt that he had dumped. It made no sense to carry out this work on such a damp, chilly day unless, of course, he wanted to raid the checkbook again.
After going back and forth for a while it appeared that he got disoriented. While stopping and starting and pulling forward and backwards, Lew had lost sight of his motorcycle. Kaboom! A collision ensued. He had backed over his Harley.
The impact startled Lew. He stopped the dozer and foolishly looked around to see if anyone had seen him. Then he jumped off, walked to the rear to survey the damaged bike, and added insult to injury by kicking the dozer.
The boot didn’t stand a chance against the hard steel of the earthmover. Lew injured his foot. “Dammit!” he yelled. He grabbed his foot and limped away.
J Dub and Julie were putting the finishing touches on the Christmas decorations. The tree was decorated with ornaments. The multi-colored lights blinked on and off around the pro shop. Bogey had curled up in the bunting under the tree and was napping. Lew hobbled through the door and headed behind the counter. “You’re back early,” Julie stated. “I saw you fly by here a little while ago.”
“Needed some water,” Lew meekly replied. He wasn’t about to admit that he hurt his foot and wrecked his motorcycle.
“There’s a water jug on number four,” J Dub volunteered.
Lew snapped at J Dub. “I didn’t want to drink water out of a water jug!”
He shuffled over to the cooler and reached for a bottle of water. Julie noticed that he was moving slowly. She asked, “What did you do to your leg?”
“My leg is fine!” Lew shouted. “It’s a little cold outside.” The racket that Lew made when he raised his voice startled Bogey. He started to growl.
Julie continued the interrogation. No music blared out upon Lew’s arrival. “Then where is your cycle? I didn’t hear you pull up.”
Lew was agitated. He was short with Julie. “Are there any more questions today that you’d like the answers to?”
“Well, I was going to ask about the meaning of life, but I’ll take a rain check,” Julie smiled sarcastically.
Lew looked toward J Dub. “I need a ride.”
J Dub looked perplexed. Why would he be asking me for a ride if he has his cycle? “Where do you want to go?” J Dub asked.
“I need to go home to get my pickup.” He
stared at J Dub. “Are you full of questions today too?”
J Dub looked at Julie. Nothing seemed to be making any sense. “Where’s your cycle?” he pried. “We saw you go out on the course on it.”
Lew became unglued. He went totally berserk. He grabbed a towel off of the counter and flung it to the floor followed by a stack of magazines. He bounced the water bottle off of the wall. “Screw both of you! I’m sick of all the questions. I’ll do what I want! Is that good enough for you two?”
J Dub and Julie started to giggle at the temper tantrum that Lew was throwing. Bogey started to bark repeatedly.
“Tell that lousy mutt to shut up, J Dub!” Lew ordered. “Listen, since both of you are in here, I’m going to tell you something that I have wanted to say for years.” He reached up and ripped down the Christmas lights. “There! We needed to short these out years ago for an insurance claim! Who needs all of this Christmas crap on a golf course anyway?”
After witnessing the lights being ripped down, J Dub had just about had enough. “What are you talking about?”
“You heard me!” Lew got right up into J Dub’s face in spite of the fact that J Dub towered above him. “And secondly, I’m tired of the groups that you’re letting tee off on Sundays. If you allow one of them out here, then the next thing you know we’ll have twenty of them out here. Then our business will start going down the crapper!”
“You mean what’s left of it,” J Dub countered.
“ . . . Yeah! And that’s in spite of how hard I work around here!” Lew ranted. Bogey’s bark turned into a constant growl. The tone of Lew’s voice toward J Dub had upset the dog.
“If you’re talking about Coach and his buddies, then they haven’t been around for years. Not since you ran them out of here,” J Dub argued.
“Yeah, I’m talking about Coach and his tar-baby buddies! Pretty soon they’ll be over here eating watermelon and fishing out of our lakes. Then the black g-men will investigate us for tax evasion!” Lew was clearly on a roll. Bogey tottered over and nipped at Lew’s pants. Lew kicked his leg toward Bogey and landed a blow to the side of the dog.