She spoke quickly, “Brian Grant must want to destroy the Magadinnos, or change the rank structure, and it’s not with Hector, since he didn’t warn Hector about using his phone. How many cartels and syndicates are working with the Magadinnos? And do the others like being number two or three in the pecking order? No, of course not. The key is going to be finding out where the information goes from Brian, and that means surveillance, with a tail, bugs and cameras on him.”
Pete and Walter had been following the conversation, rapidly bouncing from Shane to Lee to Kate, like they were watching a doubles tennis match, excitement and fear building in both of them.
Walter blurted out, “Who are you!?! And what have you done with my sweet, innocent granddaughter?!” as he grinned at Kate.
Pete smiled cautiously, and added, “We have a lot of work to do, and no place we can do it, where we’re certain we will be safe from being monitored by the mole.”
“We can work here in our room,” Kate offered, as she pointed to the desk in the corner. We know it’s safe and free of listening devices and cameras, and it will have to do for now.”
Shane gave her a look she understood, as they would lose their privacy temporarily. “For now, Shane, just until we can discover and monitor the mole. It’s the only place that has been swept and we can lock and easily monitor, and its one of the rooms the mole probably can’t risk getting into easily.”
Shane knew she was right, smiled in agreement, and gave Kate a hug. “Beautiful and smart,” he bragged, as the others nodded their approval and agreement.
Lee’s phone rang, startling everyone. When he answered it, he straightened up with such excitement, he almost jumped in the air. He whispered into the phone, “Come up to Kate and Shane’s room immediately, with the file, and make sure you aren’t followed…and bring Tom Bradshaw.”
Lee wheeled, a Cheshire cat grin splitting his face, for all to see. His eyes stared off a thousand yards away.
Walter couldn’t stand the suspense, and fired off anxiously, “Well, what is it man? Don’t keep us in the dark like mushrooms!”
Lee’s mind was going a hundred miles a minute, yet he spoke slowly, while looking down. “The mole is Wesley Wilkinson. We have a very knowledgeable anonymous friend.”
He looked up at Shane, and then glanced at the other faces in the room. “I’m so sorry this happened. I’m still embarrassed that I have let you all down.”
Lee smiled, “But, the beauty of this is, that Wesley joined us just recently for his first in-house briefing, and so far, has only been assigned to outside surveillance. He doesn’t have all the facts of the case or know the meat of the investigation. He doesn’t even know Shane’s identity.”
Shane walked to Lee, took him by the hand, and said, “Don’t beat yourself up, Lee. Most people can be bought, my friend. All it takes is money on one side and self-centered greed on the other. You can’t be in all your people’s heads at once to be assured they remain loyal. You know, Lee, we have even been betrayed by our own family.” Shane shot a glance at Walter and Pete. and they nodded in agreement. “I trust you, and I’m sure the other people in this room do, also.”
Lee looked around as all the heads nodded reassuringly.
“You are all great people, and have become some of my closest friends,” Lee said with a note of pride in his voice. “Now, about Wesley...”
Before Lee could finish his thought, a knock came at the door, and Lee nearly ran to it, opening it quickly, allowing Jesse and Tom Bradshaw a fast entrance before the door closed behind them. “Tom, put this briefcase camera on the bench outside the door in the hallway, and come back in quickly.”
Bradshaw was a tall, good-looking, black man who spoke few words to anyone but Lee. He was one of the few people Shane hadn’t gotten to know in his time at the estate. Normally, Tom could be found at Lee’s side. He seemed to operate as Lee’s right hand, providing soft-spoken insight, and a second mind that checked and double-checked all the plans Lee made. Tom spoke quietly, and often only directly into Lee’s ear. Shane couldn’t recall ever hearing much of what Tom said to Lee.
Bradshaw was out of the room in a flash, gone for less than 5 seconds, and back inside so quickly and quietly that everyone marveled at the big man’s agility and the softness of his step. How a large, muscular man like Tom Bradshaw could move about so fast, without making so much as a sound, surprised Shane. He thought he would have to speak to Tom more directly in the future, and get to know this man much better.
Lee set up a laptop from his bag, and selected an icon that brought up the camera screen showing the hallway outside Kate and Shane’s room. “We need to make sure this is private,” Lee explained. “OK, first some things you should know about Tom Bradshaw. He’s my brother, and I trust him with my life. I trust him with my kids, and my wife, all of whom he has taken on vacation without me, when I couldn’t go.”
All eyes bounced back and forth between Lee and Tom, trying to see a resemblance through the difference in skin color.
Lee smiled. “Tom and I had different fathers, but the same mother. I’m older, and when my father died in a traffic accident, my mom raised me alone, until she met and married Tom’s father. He is my half-brother, and his father became my dad and raised me from the time I was three years old. Tom and I are family, and he is the partner in my business. He is completely trustworthy, and one of the most honorable men I have ever known.” A barely perceptible smile crept onto Tom’s lips.
Lee continued rapidly, “I tell you this, so that you may know and trust, that if the dossier is wrong, and Wesley Wilkinson is not the mole, you may rest assured that Tom is not. By the way, I kept my biological father’s name, Sprague, only to honor his memory. I think of myself as a Bradshaw.” Tom smiled wider now, as he turned toward Shane, his light brown skin turning a little darker with the prideful embarrassment that flushed his face.
“Secondly, Jesse and I were in Iraq together. We served in the same unit, fought side-by-side, and survived together, protecting each other’s ass. Jesse is my kids’ godfather. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here. He took two rounds in the backside from an AK-47, pushing me out of the way to save my life. He has been with me in the business from the start. He is the other person I have always trusted with all that’s important to me. I have bet my life on Jesse, and lived, but more importantly, I would bet my brother’s life on Jesse. He isn’t the mole either.”
Walter interrupted, “Lee, you don’t have to do this...”
Lee interrupted, “Yes, I do, Walter, for all of you and for me. You need to know where we’re starting from in this game of life and death we seem to be caught in the middle of…you need to know who you can trust.” Everyone slowly nodded in unison and thoughtful agreement.
Shane added, “So, we start with this group. We know we’re safe with the people in this room. Anyone else we should add?” Shane looked around the room.
Jesse offered, “My techs, Mike and Pete Panos, are brothers I have worked with for years. Both go back to college days with me. We were all roommates. Mike had the opportunity to show a vengeful side when I ended up with his girlfriend, who became my wife. He was one of the ushers at my wedding. I was the best man at his wedding, when he married my wife’s sister. Pete is his twin brother. Where Mike and I were, there was Pete. I trust them both implicitly.”
“I’m comfortable adding Delores to the list of the trusted,” Kate added. “She and I have been friends for a long time. She wants for nothing while working in our company, and knows she has an even brighter future with our group. I introduced her to a suitor of mine, who became her fiancé.” Kate cast a teasing smile at Shane.
“Howard, in the garage, is one I have to add,” offered Walter. “He has been with me for 40 years. I helped him grieve the loss of his wife, and gave him a position and place in our home and business. He later married another of our employees, who eventually became ill with Lupus. We still pay her salary and medical insurance, tho
ugh she can’t work anymore. Howard has been a friend for a long time.”
Pete raised a hand, when there was a moment of silence. “Tasha McKnight, my secretary, has been with me for many years, and helped me, more than I can explain, getting through the death of my wife, Claire. I know that Tasha is in love with me, and I have been too stubborn to act on the mutual attraction yet. But we both know it’s only a matter of time. She’s completely trustworthy.” Pete looked at Shane, who was beaming and nodding. “I was going to tell you when the time was right, Shane.” They both just grinned.
“Anyone else on the outside?” Lee asked, as he looked around the room at the gathered faces.
“Bryan K. Holland, FBI agent, extraordinaire,” Shane said proudly. “He’s a special agent-in-charge out of the LA office, knows what I do for a living, and would risk his life to save me. He’s already risked his career to help me a number of times. He is our ace in the hole. Whatever he does for us is as untraceable as it gets.”
After a period of silence, Lee announced, “Then, we start with that group, as a precaution. Now, Jesse can bring us up-to-speed on the dossier delivered by our unknown informant.” Lee exuded the renewed confidence of a redeemed man, as he once again sat on the bed.
Kate and Shane smiled at each other, and sat on either side of him. Shane put his arm around Lee’s shoulder, and said, “I think we need to have some chairs brought in.” The room erupted in sorely-needed laughter.
Jesse sat on the floor in front of the group. “Alright then, the dossier obtained from the laptop, which is void of identifiers and fingerprints, by the way, is completely devoted to Brian Grant, and links him very convincingly to organized crime, dating back to the days when he served as an agent with California’s Department of Justice. The file contains attachments, documents retrieved by someone with a high degree of clearance, from DOJ files.”
“Those files indicate that Grant was the subject of an internal investigation involving the death of Shane’s father, when he retired. More importantly, the file contains credible information linking Grant to Franky Magadinno, and even more directly, to Big John Galliano.”
“One document contains photocopies of a cashier’s check withdrawal from Grant’s account of $1,283.95 four days before Shane’s parents’ murders. Two days after the murders, Grant deposits $26,283.95. This is damning evidence. The vehicles used in the murders of Shane’s parents, rented by Big John Galliano cost $1,283.95, and we have a photocopy of the rental receipt to prove that. Grant paid the fee to reserve the vehicles for Galliano, before Franky and Big John got to town, and then was reimbursed the fee, plus $25,000, for his troubles. He was stupid enough to deposit a check from one of Franky’s business accounts into his own bank account.”
“Or arrogant enough to deposit it,” Shane said angrily. Shane’s skin burned hot with rage, but he controlled his breathing. He slowly looked to see that both Pete and Kate were studying him carefully. He gave them both a wink, indicating he was okay. Then he noticed Jesse, too, was watching for a safe sign to continue. Shane smiled and nodded.
Jesse continued. “So it seems that Big John has been busy killing people for Franky, and with Franky.” Jesse hesitated, eyed both Walter and Kate, and continued. “The informant has provided us with hand written notes and plans, from Franky Magadinno and Big John Galliano, for…Harold O’Leary’s murder.” Jesse stopped and looked at Lee.
“Go on, Jesse. Kate and Walter have waited a long time for these answers, and they can’t be any more prepared for it,” Lee assured. Jesse looked at both Walter and Kate. He got the assurance he needed to continue.
Jesse proceeded, hesitantly. “The plans called for Harold and his assistant to be kidnapped, and then…buried alive… at the site of the first building to be built at the Yucca Mountain facility.”
He looked up for reassurance and, when no one said anything, he continued. “There is a copy of a letter of congratulations from Big John to Franky, sent from Las Vegas. The letter says that the ‘problem’ is buried under the first layer of concrete in the basement storage room, encased in its own special block of cement. The informant says that Franky keeps the original letter in a scrapbook in his house wall safe…along with a Polaroid of Howard and his assistant being covered in concrete.”
Walter had walked to Kate and sat down beside her on the bed. They looked at each other, but there were no tears. Kate asked Jesse, “please continue.”
“At this point, we haven’t had time to verify all the information in the dossier on Grant, but he was allegedly involved in Harold’s kidnapping, posing as an agent assigned to protect Harold. The informant provided a local Nevada bank account that has allegedly had a deposit of $50,000 made to it, by one of Franky’s LLCs, every year, on the anniversary of Harold O’Leary’s death. It’s Grant’s bank account, and the deposits should be easy to verify. I’m so sorry to bring this news to you both,” Jesse said to Walter and Kate.
Walter assured Jesse that he and Kate were fine, and urged him to continue. The room was silent for a moment. Shane had moved, and given Walter and Kate their own space. He knew they were dying on the inside, as they processed this awful news of the brutal destruction of their loved one. He knew the anger a person could feel, when they begin to deal with such loss. He vowed silently to himself to make Harold’s death personal for him, also. Franky and his minions would pay a horrible price for these senseless murders, spawned of greed, he thought.
Excitement crept into Jesse’s cautious voice, as he continued. “Now, here is the kicker! Our friendly informant has his own informant, inside the Magadinno crime syndicate. That informant is none other than Grant’s primary contact, which explains why the Magadinnos aren’t being fed all the “intel” about Shane and his operation. The end of Grant’s file explains this, but doesn’t identify the second informant.”
Pete broke in. “How do we know that Wesley is the mole?”
Jesse looked up at him, as the other faces nodded. Everyone’s minds were racing to find answers, and they all had different questions, but each person respected the group, and struggled to proceed with organization and clarity.
Jesse looked back at the file for a moment. “Our informant says that his contact in the Magadinno family has met with Grant and Wesley on two occasions. One occasion was in a coffee shop in Reno. Wesley told them he is English and lived in London for most of his youth. He used to order a Peruvian coffee popular in his local English coffee house. The coffee is called Cecovasa. And the informant said, at the meeting, Wesley quoted his favorite novelist, Agatha Christie.”
Jesse continued to read. “Christie once said, ‘Coffee in England always tastes like a chemistry experiment.’ Our informant offered this as proof that his information is good. I quietly checked with the kitchen to see what type of coffee we have on hand. They advised me that we use a coffee from a small local coffee roaster, but that Wesley provides them Peruvian Cecovasa, Wesley has kitchen staff make him a small pot of the Cecovasa every morning. He has his mother ship it to him. One of the staff said he often refers to this same quote with his first sip of coffee.”
Jesse reflected out loud, a final concern. “We need to make everything appear as normal as possible. We need a way to communicate quickly to meet to exchange information in our safe room. Can we agree on a group text to initiate a meeting with our trusted group, designated by the numbers 911, and the time of the meet in military time? 911 1530, for example, would request a meeting for all of us here at 3:30 P.M.” Everyone nodded in agreement.
“One final request. We should notify the others we trust so we have more sets of eyes on the same page with our group,” Jesse asked.
Jesse called Mike and Pete Panos to the room. Kate called Delores, while Walter called Howard. Pete made a phone call to have Tasha meet him at the O’Leary estate, with her clothing and personal items, and said he would fill her in with details she needed to know once she arrived. The cadre of trusted comrades discussed what Tasha would need
to know, so they would all agree. As they proceeded with final plans, Mike and Pete arrived at the room, followed by Howard. Although the bedroom suite was large, it suddenly seemed very crowded as people maneuvered for comfort.
Mike, Pete, Delores and Howard were brought up-to-speed. There was a brief discussion about what could possibly happen at 2:00 P.M. (1400 military time, Jesse had chided), but no one had a plausible theory. Questions were raised about Carson City Sheriff Mark Roberts, who had hired Shane, but all information re-affirmed the Sheriff’s credibility.
A communication text group was added to everyone’s cell phone. Jesse made a final suggestion that Lee and Tom meet with everyone, except Wesley, and let them know Wesley was leaking information to the Magadinnos, and they were to treat him normally, but not share information with him, at any time, unless it was approved.
Jesse had finished the dossier review, and, finally, had nothing else of importance to add. Lee suggested that the group leave one at a time, with Kate and Shane leaving last. Everyone would filter into the meeting room or kitchen, and make an appearance at breakfast, so there was no suspicion of anything being out of the ordinary.
When they were alone, Kate and Shane walked to the bathroom together and grabbed towels for a quick shower. Shane stood in the shower, allowing the hot water to cleanse his body and refresh his mind. As his head cleared, he noticed the details of the tile in the master suite bath. Each tile had the appearance of being handmade, with faint, almost imperceptible, differences in the various subtle horse design patterns.
The over-sized shower featured two shower heads, one each on opposing walls. The tiles were an off-white color, with a sandy appearance, placed in a pattern with sporadic, but tasteful matching tiles featuring horse drawings, spaced every six tiles. The horse designs resembled four different breeds: quarter horse, thoroughbred, Icelandic horse and Lipizzaner. Each horse was distinctive, and easily recognizable to Shane, who had ridden and studied horses for years. Yet each repeated tile was slightly different from the next matching tile, displaying a beautiful variety. “Definitely hand-painted,” Shane thought to himself.
The Case Page 18