KERRI'S WAR: VOLUME THREE OF THE KING TRILOGY

by Stephen Douglass

  Kerri was the first to see the return of the Crown Vic. “Oh, no,” she groaned as she looked at her rear view mirror and saw the fast approaching flashing red and blue lights. “He won’t give up.”

  Steve slowed the Cadillac as it approached the fourth of four CASH ONLY lanes. He made a decision as he waited for the vehicle in front of him to pay the required toll and move on. “This is the end of the road, Kerri. We’re not going to run any more. I’m going to drive up to that booth and stop.” He did as he promised, rolled his window down, and looked straight into the eyes of a thirty-eight year old black female toll collector. “This is a life and death emergency,” he shouted. “There is a man in the stolen police vehicle behind us. He is not a policeman. He’s trying to kill us. Can you see the vehicle?”

  The toll collector leaned out of her booth and looked to her right. “I see it. What do you want me to do?” she asked, staring at Steve suspiciously, processing his story, attempting to decide if he was telling the truth, or not.

  “Do you have a phone?” Steve asked.

  “No, but my supervisor has one. He’s in the first lane kiosk.”

  Steve’s heart sank. If he left the car to run to the first kiosk, he would risk leaving Kerri alone. “Get over there and tell him exactly what I’ve just told you. Tell him to dial nine-one-one. Please do it fast. We don’t have a lot of time. We’ll stay right here.”

  The shocked and terrified toll collector refused to move and continued to stare at Steve. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth? Maybe the police are after you.”

  Mengalli had stopped the Crown Vic fifty feet from the toll plaza. When the Cadillac failed to move out of lane four, he realized what was happening. He had to make a decision, fast. He had to make a move on his prey now, or flee and get as far from the scene as possible. He fretted as a growing number of cars passed the CVPI and lined up behind the Cadillac, horns blowing. The Cadillac remained stationary. He assumed that it was only a matter of time before the area was crawling with police.

  He yanked his gear shift into drive, turned right and raced through the first of two EZ PASS lanes. He made a tight and fast, counter-clockwise, one hundred and eighty degree turn, then backed up and brought the Crown Vic’s rear bumper to a stop, directly in front of the Cadillac’ grill, blocking its exit. He climbed out of the vehicle and hobbled to Kerri’s window. With the Glock clutched tightly in his right hand, he signaled to her to open the window. When she did, he pointed the Clock at her. “Get into the back seat of the police car. Bring your boyfriend and tell him to get into the driver’s seat. Do it fast or I will kill both of you where you’re sitting,” he demanded, the large and growing number of witnesses stifling his urge to kill her immediately.

  Kerri looked up and into the black crazed eyes of a determined killer. Her choice was simple. She could refuse and die now, or follow his order and die later. She turned to Steve and nodded.

  The two doomed lovers stepped from the Cadillac and walked slowly to the Crown Vic. Defeated and scared, they knew their captor planned to drive them to a secluded area, kill them, then escape. They had come so close to safety, but lost, their hopes for a happy life together dashed, forever.

  It all happened very suddenly and quickly. It started with a distant, but rapidly intensifying clattering sound, within seconds the area was bathed in light, as if the sun had broken through heavy dark clouds. Everyone looked up to see two hovering police Bell 430 helicopters, no more than twenty feet above Mengalli, their spotlights fixed on him. Dust and debris flew in all directions as the thumping rotating helicopter blades broke the cool night air. Troopers, dressed in full SWAT gear, sat at the opened starboard doors of the helicopters, their M-16 military rifles pointed at Mengalli.

  “New York State Police!” a bull horn boomed. “Drop your gun and get to the ground, face down. Stretch your arms and legs, now!”

  Mengalli was confused. For the first time in his long and sordid career, he faced defeat, failure. It had never happened to him. It had always been so easy. Until that moment, failure had never been in his lexicon. He stared at Kerri, his subject. He had a micro-second to kill her, thereby accomplishing the primary component of his assignment. Disposing of the body and escaping without detection, the other components were now impossible. He thought of the kindness and generosity of Ken Layton, and of how disappointed he would be when he learned of his failure to kill Kerri King. He thought of his family in Pasto, Columbia, and of how much he wanted to see them again. In the end, the choice was his. He had seconds to make it. He could live, or die.

  “Drop your gun and lie flat on the ground!” the bull horn boomed again.

  Mengalli released his grip on the Glock, allowing it to fall and clatter on the pavement beside his feet. He descended slowly to his knees, then lowered himself to a face down position.

  Relieved and ecstatic, Kerri raced around the rear of the Crown Vic and into Steve’s waiting arms. She held him as if she never wanted to let go. “I love you, Steve Monteith,” she said with tears flooding her eyes.

  Steve kissed her forehead, then spoke into her ear. “You still want to marry me?” he asked with a big smile.

  “More than ever.”

  “Even if I don’t have a car?”

  Kerri laughed and pointed to the Crown Victoria. “Let’s use that. It’s really fast”

  CHAPTER 82

  “I ASKED, BUT THEY WOULDN’T LET us use the Crown Vic,” Steve said as he helped Kerri climb into one of the police Bell 430 helicopters. He pointed to Cadillac. “They gave me the choice of driving that or flying back to the hotel in this. I told them I was tired of driving.” He climbed in beside her, put his arm around her and drew her close. “Something’s bothering me… Maybe you can help me with it.”

  “What?”

  “How did the police know where to find us?”

  Kerri kissed Steve’s cheek, then gave him a relieved grin. “Itzic Neiman gave me GPS device. He told me to carry it wherever I go. He said his company would know my coordinates, twenty-four seven. It’s in my purse. So while you were driving up and down this highway, I texted Northern Security. I told them who I was, and what was happening to us. Then I prayed.”

  EPILOGUE 1

  SANTIAGO MENGALISTA, ALIAS LORENZO MENGALLI, ALIAS Pietro Lopez, was arrested and charged with the murders of Itzic Neiman and David Urbanski, a New York State trooper. He was also charged with the kidnapping and attempted murder of Kerri King and Steve Monteith. He was placed in solitary confinement at Attica Correctional Facility, a maximum security prison located in the New York State town of Attica. In a plea bargain to avoid the death penalty, he sang like a bird. Among other things, his information led the F.B.I. to conduct a raid on the Laredo, Texas hacienda of Alejandro Salazar. The interrogation of Salazar led them to Sandra Schafer’s body in the remote Mexican desert area west of Salinas Hidalgo. The body was exhumed and returned to Houston for a proper burial.

  When they learned of Schafer’s fate, Kerri King and Steve Monteith took particular delight in making Schafer’s information package available to the F.B.I., the S.E.C., and the I.R.S.

  On the morning of Tuesday, May 27, 2002, the F.B.I. conducted massive and simultaneous raids on the Houston offices of Enerco and Benjamin, Alexander & Gabriel, LLP. Kenneth Layton, Jeffrey Wheeler, Andrew Speers, and Peter Tavaris were arrested and subjected to humiliating and well publicized perp walks. Marc Jacobs, a senior partner in Benjamin, Alexander & Gabriel, experienced a similar fate.

  The publicity generated by the raids and subsequent discoveries resulted in a dramatic and spectacular plunge in the value of Enerco stock, and the obliteration of the personal fortunes of thousands of investors. Enerco eventually declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy. The fall from grace of Benjamin, Alexander & Gabriel resulted in the loss of much of its client base. The firm quickly descended into bankruptcy.

  In a voluminous indictment, Ken Layton was charged with 17 counts of securities fraud, wire fraud, and m
aking false and misleading statements. He was further charged with complicity in the murders of Sandra Schafer, Itzic Neiman, David Urbanski, and Wilhelm Lentz. Amazingly, his attorneys succeeded in negotiating his temporary freedom by posting $10,000,000 bail. He committed suicide by shooting himself in the head in his Houston mansion. His subsequent conviction was vacated because of his death. He had a negative net worth at the time of his death.

  Jeffrey Wheeler was tried and convicted of multiple felony charges relating to the financial collapse of Enerco. He was also tried and convicted for complicity in the deaths of Sandra Schafer, Itzic Neiman, David Urbanski, and Wilhelm Lentz. He was sentenced to life in prison, without possibility of parole.

  Andrew Speers was also charged and eventually convicted of multiple felony charges related to the downfall of Enerco. He was sentenced to serve eight years in the United States Penitentiary at Beaumont, Texas.

  Peter Tavaris was arrested, charged, and convicted of breaking and entering the New York offices Iacardi & Sons. He was sentenced to serve three years in United States Penitentiary near Pollock, Louisiana. His shares of Enerco are worthless. His dream of wealth and power is only a memory.

  Walter Deakes, A.K.A. The Deacon, is now penniless. He lives with his wife in a modest rented home in Virginia. He works as a part time consultant for an obscure New York hedge fund.

  Billie “The Kid” Dukes was one of the lucky ones. Although his shares of Enerco impoverished him, he was immediately hired as a trader by Bear Sterns in New York. He is still unmarried and still an eligible bachelor. His financial nightmare is yet to come.

  Acting on the testimony provided by Jeffrey Wheeler, Sergei and Dmitri Tarasoz, A.K.A. The Boys from Belarus, were arrested in Munich by agents of Interpol. They were extradited to Switzerland and tried and convicted of the murder of Wilhelm Lentz. The search for Lentz’s body continues.

  Christine Stewart finally made full partner at the Toronto law firm of Anderson, McPherson and White. Her career took on meteoric proportions when she married Todd White, the son of one of the firm’s founders. She is listed in Toronto’s Who’s Who as one of the city’s most respected socialites. The happy couple have no immediate plans for a family.

  Jamie Stewart is still partying.

  Andrea Dennis still lives alone in her lovely old home in Glen Cove, Long Island. She is deeply grateful to Kerri King, who convinced her to sell her shares of Enerco early. The proceeds of the sale made her a small fortune. The younger of her two daughters, a Wharton Business graduate, is now a successful trader with Iacardi & Sons in New York.

  Mike and Karen King continue to say a silent prayer each day for the pleasure of living free from the torment of the fruits of Jim Servito’s crimes.

  The Trustee in the bankruptcy of Enerco cleverly spun off Iacardi & Sons from a long list of Enerco assets. It was purchased by a syndicate, consisting primarily of current and former employees. Still an enormously profitable enterprise, Iacardi is honoring, in every respect, the commitment made by its former president, Kerri King to provide financial assistance to the families of its employees who died in the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.

  EPILOGUE 2

  Port Carling, Muskoka, Saturday, July 27, 2002. 4:00 P.M.

  The weather was perfect for a summer wedding. It was as if God had decreed that two very special lovers deserved nothing but perfection.

  The RMS, (Royal Mail Ship), Segwin, the oldest steam-powered vessel in North America, glided to a stop inside the larger of two Port Carling locks. The lift bridge above the locks was up and traffic halted. The stately old white and green ship stood three stories above the water line, its single red, silver and black smoke stack, even higher. The vessel boasted a length of 125 feet and a 21 foot beam. A boisterous and well dressed crowd of one hundred people waited on the concrete dock near the lock master’s house.

  The upper lock gate astern of the Segwin closed, the ship’s bell rang, and the crowd began to file on board. When all passengers were aboard, the paddle blocking the underground culvert was removed, allowing the water inside the lock chamber to escape downstream, and the Segwin to descend seven feet, the difference in elevation between Lake Rosseau and Lake Muskoka. The downstream lock gate was opened, allowing the Segwin to continue its journey down the Indian River, into Lake Muskoka, and on to Azimuth Island. The passengers, all carrying engraved invitations to attend the wedding of Kerri King to Stephen Monteith, were treated to an open bar and mountains of finger food to help them endure the thirty minute voyage.

  The ceremony was scheduled to commence at 6:30 P.M. The guest list included: Tom MacDonald, Steve’s best man, and his wife, Barbara; Ian and Michael Monteith, Steve’s brothers; Peter Mitchell and Monty Kaplan, Steve’s fraternity brothers and ushers; Barbara Harmon, Kerri’s mother, and her husband, David, all the way from Salt Spring Island, British Columbia; Andrea Dennis, Kerri’s dear friend, from Glen Cove, Long Island; Marsha Cooper, Kerri’s attorney, who saved her from personal bankruptcy and made her a fortune when she sold her Enerco Stock; Cathy Simmonds, Kerri’s friend and a broadcaster with WKTV in Manhattan; Cathy Towers, Kerri’s step-sister, and her radiologist husband, from Ottawa, Ontario; Kevin King, Kerri’s step-brother, together with his lovely brunette girlfriend, both enjoying a summer break from Harvard Business School.

  Laughing and joking with one another, the passengers disembarked at the massive dock in a sheltered cove near the south shore of Azimuth Island. Mike and Karen King, the host and hostess, were there to greet them. Mike wore a tuxedo and Karen a black ankle length skirt and cream colored blouse. Both, in bare feet, stood beside a yellow sign with large black letters, “BARE FEET ALLOWED.” Beside Mike and Karen stood a bag-piper in full Scottish regalia and playing “Mull of Kintyre.” When everyone was ashore, the Segwin left and the piper led them to the cottage, a rambling three-story, white framed structure at the height of the island. There, they had an hour and a half to freshen up, get to know each other, and drink champagne, or some other poison of their choice.

  At precisely 6:15 P.M., Mike stepped to the front door and rang a large brass bell, terminating most of the conversations. “Could I have your attention, please?” he shouted with a huge smile. “Karen and I invite all of you to proceed to the gazebo.” He pointed south. “It’s that way. I strongly recommend that you you fill up your glass before you leave.”

  Following Mike’s request, the guests left the cottage and made their way across the well manicured lawn and down the gentle slope to a rocky promontory forming the southern shore of the ten acre island. Perched atop the promontory was a large octagonal gazebo, sporting a fresh coat of white paint. The view, arguably one of the best in Muskoka, featured an unobstructed five mile vista of blue Lake Muskoka water. Instead of chairs, totally impractical on the rough terrain, Mike had arranged for a local carpenter to construct two large bleachers, each opposing the other and forming an aisle between. Karen had arranged that all of the seats be well padded for the comfort of the guests. Occupying the gazebo was an Irish trio, two males and one female. One male played a fiddle, the other, a guitar. The female played Uillean flute, pipes, and whistles. As the guests took their seats, they played, “Haste to the Wedding.”

  Mike waited on the verandah for his daughter. “Wow!” he said, as she opened the screened door and stepped from the cottage. “You look fantastic.”

  Kerri, stunning in her strapless white knee-length laced dress, kicked off her sandals and approached her father. “I feel fantastic. I’m in love, I’m getting married, and my family and friends are here to watch me do it.”

  “Then let’s go do it,” Mike said, then took Kerri’s arm and led her to the gazebo.

  They arrived to see Steve and the minister standing in the gazebo in front of the Irish trio. Displaying his irresistible smile and wearing a tuxedo with no shoes or socks, Steve stared lovingly at his bride to be. The minister, the son of the Presbyterian minister who had married Karen and Jim Servito almost th
irty-two years earlier, wore black trousers, a black clerical shirt, and white clerical collar. He had not been convinced to remove his shoes. As Mike led Kerri down the aisle between the bleachers, the trio played the Irish version of “Canon in D,” a haunting and beautiful tune.

  The minister raised his hands above his head, asking for silence. Conversations stopped. Only the call of seagulls and the hum of motorboats could be heard in the distance. “We are gathered here in this beautiful place, and in the sight of God, to join together this man and this woman. Through marriage, Stephen and Kerri intend to make a commitment, to embrace their dreams, realize their hopes, and accept each other’s failures. The occasion marks the celebration of love with which Stephen and Kerri begin their lives together. Through me, God will join them together in one of the holiest of bonds. Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?”

  “We do,” both Mike King and Barbara Harmon said in unison, then looked at each other, smiled and waved, as if to say, “all is forgiven.”

  “Kerri, I understand you have something to say to Stephen.”

  Kerri smiled at Steve and squeezed his hand. “Steve, you are a wonderful man. I am honored that you have chosen me to be your wife. So many times since the day I met you I have dreamed of this day, but events conspired to ruin that dream. Today, here and now, incredibly, it is no longer a dream. It is reality. I am fulfilled. I promise you that for so long as I live, I will treasure your decision, and to love you more with each tomorrow.”

  “Stephen, I understand you have something to say to Kerri.”