The Killing Collective

by Gary Starta

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Carter breezed into the interrogation room armed with the kind of ammunition that never failed to produce results. He told the truth. “I’ve got bad news for you, Goliath. Clayton Artemus Montgomery, also known as Arthur Moreland, is very much alive and ready to testify against you. With the evidence we already have, I figure you should be out in, oh…” Carter stared at the ceiling pretending to do a calculation. “…let’s just round it out to 150 years or so. Give or take a few.”

  The no-necked thug had assumed Montgomery’s flying leap through the thick, lead-paned glass of a second story window finished him off. It began to dawn on him that he might take the fall for something a lot more serious than assault and battery, so he tried to bluff his way out of it. “Ain’t dat duh guy duh papers said was somekindova nut or somethin’? You know, duh one what stole a homemade drug, went crazy killin’ people fuh nuttin’, an’ tried-a kill duh old man we was protectin’ at duh Brooklyn Navy Yaud? What’s any uh dat gotta do wid me, huh? I donno nuthin’!”

  “Yes, well, unfortunately that’s neither here nor there. Look, let’s try it again another way, just for me, O.K.? I would hate to leave here knowing we weren’t able to come to some kind of an arrangement that was agreeable to both of us. It’d make me feel like…” Carter shrugged his shoulders. “Like we weren’t friends.”

  He pressed stop on the camcorder filming the interrogation. “Look, I don’t give a shit about you, the rules, or the limits of the justice system. I’m telling you now buddy, off the record, you’re going make the Collective and their meetings and murders go away or rot in here until they carry you out in a pine box.”

  “I awreddy tol’ yooo, I donno nuttin’!”

  The giant was starting to sweat, and that was just the way Carter wanted it. He paused, leaned over the table where the enforcer was shackled, and dropped all pretenses. “You were apprehended at the scene of a crime. You admitted you were hired to protect the old man. Mr. Montgomery and I have skin samples from the three of you under our nails. Do you know what D.N.A. testing is, Goliath? It means that no one in the world can help you now. No one except me.”

  He paused to let that sink in. Then he gave up. “You need it spelled out for you, don’t you? All right, here it is. We got the entire thing recorded on the wire Mr. Montgomery was wearing. When you yanked it off him, we kept right on rolling….with a video cam on his lapel. I’m afraid, Goliath, you’re officially screwed.” Carter gave him a nice, long, look of helplessness and shrugged again.

  Carter got up and paced. That was always a great device to make people nervous; it was how they knew the game had begun. “Three women and a man were drugged and had their minds hijacked by the Silver Man - or the old man, as you call him. They were programmed to commit murder for him. All four had the same drug in their system at the time the assassinations were to take place, and all four had been at one of his meetings the evening before. We know the drug only stays in the system for 48 hours, so we can pinpoint the time of ingestion easily. They were all dosed at the meetings hosted by the ‘old man’.

  “We can produce hundreds of people who will testify that they were drugged without their knowledge or permission at the meetings they attended. Our lab tests show, definitively, that these four individuals were high on the drug and psychotic when they committed the murders. Know what that means? It means they’re not guilty. They’re off the hook. Just like that.” Carter snapped his fingers.

  “But someone has to swing for it, so it might as well be you. I am going to testify, under oath, that I saw you stealing a black drawstring bag containing one hundred vials of Hyzopran from one of those meetings we raided. You were followed every minute of every day afterwards until you felt safe enough to sell it on the street. To kids. I am also going to let it be known that when you were caught, literally holding the bag, you turned it over to us in exchange for a plea bargain. So you see, big guy, there’s no way out for you. No one’s going to stick their neck out for a strong-arm from Mott Street. There’s a big, red, bulls-eye on your back, and I’m just going to sit back and enjoy the show.”

  “I nevva stole no drugs, an’ I ain’t nevva sold no drugs to kids! I ain’t stupid, mista. I know you gotta prove all a ‘dis. You can’t getta conviction widdout proof. I got friends, mista. Big friends. Know whad I mean? I don’ think you wanna screw around wid my friends.”

  Carter stopped pacing and sat down, perfectly calm and unconcerned. The more he waited, the angrier the Neanderthal got.

  “Hey. You know sumthin’? Yora big man right now. A real big man wid me sittin’ hea in chains. But that ain’t gonna last long, stunad. Montgomery’s a dead man. He ain’t nevva gonna tawk, an’ I ain’t gotta worry in da world.”

  Having lived in Boston his whole life, Carter was very familiar with the word “stunad”. He called Carter a moron, which amused him very much. “Oh, I know you think there are people who can make this go away, but they won’t, Goliath. Not for you. I’ve got Montgomery protected, and he’s our number one witness from the scene of the crime. I have mountains of evidence to use against you, stronzo.

  “Maybe you don’t quite understand me, so I’ll make myself perfectly clear. If you don’t cooperate with me, right now, this information and far more gets leaked to the media. That means T.V. News. The internet. The whole ball of wax. Capeesch? The public won’t care that you’re a nobody from nowhere who doesn’t know ‘nuttin’. They’ll rip you limb from limb the minute you step out these doors. You’ll never make it to court.”

  “O.K., O.K. Let’s play ball. Whaddya want, mista?”

  “You’re going to ask your own organization for protection. It’s worldwide, and much more powerful than the old man’s. La Cosa Nostra owns the shadows, and that’s the beauty of my plan. You’re going to start a fight that’ll keep the JASONS in check until we find them all and crucify them. All you have to do is whisper the request in your Godfather’s ear. Unless you prefer not to involve them. Your choice.”

  “Gimme a break! If I go-da my own people an’ ask for protection, I’ll be the one wacked.” He paused and looked down at the floor. “They ain’t gonna break a sweat ova me.”

  “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong! We know you have no knowledge of the ‘old man’s’ operation, but nobody else does. If your people think you know where he does business and with whom, you’ll be a hero for helping them secure valuable territory and profits all over the world. Your people need to believe that their very existence is on the line. That they’ll understand.”

  Carter was having a high old time, now. They’d buy the whole story - hook, line, and sinker - if one of their own went downtown to tell it.

  “The JASONS have to assume their enemies are everywhere, but infiltrating your particular organization is nothing short of suicide for them or anyone who helps them. You’re not going to get wacked, because I’m going to arm you with enough evidence to convince your capo that a war is brewing and that you’ve come to him like Christ, to save them all. As long as the JASONS are looking over their own shoulders for the foreseeable future, we have a deal and you go free. If, however, you refuse to do this little favor for us, or fail to make them understand the urgency the coming crisis, you stay here, take your chances, and hope for the best.”

  The enforcer opened his mouth to answer, but Carter cut him off. “Before you answer, there is something you should consider. If you decide to sit tight and wait it out, we arm you with no evidence. That means there’s no reason for your organization to feel threatened in any serious way or inclined to protect you. In fact, I think you’re right.

  Here in jail, you’re nothing but a liability to them both. The JASONS will have to assume you shared vital inside information, so they’ll have to keep you quiet at any cost. If your organization thinks you started something they’ll have to finish, you’re done. This fight will happen with or without you, because whatever you decide, I’m going to make sure both sides think yo
u talked. So what’s it going to be, stunad?”

  The gargantuan sat and thought. He wiped a hand across the sweat beginning to bead on his brow. Then he sat and thought some more. Carter waited, cool as a cucumber.

  The man finally looked up, and simply said, “Yes.”

  ***

  Carter walked past the first of three cells and stopped to make a point directly to the prisoner inside. “Up until now, every single decision you’ve made led you here. You have one chance, and one chance only, to save yourself. You’ll never walk out of here if you don’t take it, and that’s just exactly the way it stands.”

  He paused.

  “Do you want to pay for crimes engineered by someone else? Don’t you know you wouldn’t be here today if the Silver Man had been caught before two of you went to a Collective meeting? Your value to the Silver Man was purely academic. He didn’t give a damn about your economic plight or you, personally. Everything he said during his speeches was nonsense meant to attract pockets of scared, angry people to the events and then to make them feel powerful again as a community with one common enemy. And why? It’s the same old story, ladies. He wanted the people in his way to be moved out of his way, and he wanted to tear everything down so he could be the one to build it all back up the way he wanted it for himself and his friends. He’s no different than any other rich, greedy politician willing to say anything to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was more of what he already had. Power.

  “He lied to you, used you, and then threw you to the wolves. If he’s not stopped, he’ll grab everything he can with both hands, while you sit here rotting for the rest of your lives, victims of your own ignorance and jealousy. You placed all your trust and faith in a dangerous conman masquerading as a man of the people. You were had, ladies, right from Jump Street. He’s as mad as a hatter, and you were mad to believe him.”

  Carter strolled to the second cell, stopped there, and went on. “When did you decide to build walls instead of bridges? You were there because the one percenters put you in an untenable position. You wanted things to be fair to everyone, so when did you decide that you come first and screw everyone else? The Silver Man turned you into the very thing you hate most – someone who looks out for number one and number one only! You walked into those hate rallies with your eyes open but your mind closed. The Silver Man is a vicious monster leading a mob of killers! And now you’re one, too.

  “The idea was to turn you all into assassins to eliminate his roadblocks. Then you’d have to be eliminated or overdosed for knowing too much. In ten years he plans to have an implant inserted into the brain of every newborn child so that he can program them to feel only the emotions and urges he thinks are desirable.

  “He’s a ruthless maniac, and you sat there and listened to him and applauded! You’re worse than he is, because you heard him say exactly what he thought and sat still for it. The Silver Man wants to make this planet his personal playground with humanity as his toys, and he won’t rest until he’s revered as a God!”

  Carter made his way to the third cell, stopped again, and made his final points to the Unholy Three. “You don’t cheat or rob people, because you know it’s wrong! You don’t hurt or kill people who have it better than you do, because it’s wrong! And you don’t fight wars to make the world a better place because wars never, ever end. They go on and on forever, fueled by the bile of sick, old men and fought by naïve children with dreams that aren’t even remotely realistic.

  “You try to see the other guy’s point of view by walking in his shoes for a mile. You tolerate and respect all the puzzling, quirky, great and wonderful things that make us different. And the same. You help your neighbor if you can, and if you can’t, you offer him a shoulder to cry on. When you die, God won’t care whether you were a king or a beggar. He will not ask you how successful you were in business; he will ask if you made your corner of the map a little better for everyone every day in any way you could.

  “All that really matters is what you share of yourself and give away freely with an open and generous heart. It’s how you’re remembered by those whose lives you were privileged to touch that matters. And that’s all.”

  Carter walked back to the middle cell so that all three girls could see him at once. “If you receive any mercy at all, it’ll only be because you helped us catch a killer and a traitor to all mankind. You want a better America? A better world? Start with yourselves. Give us anything you can on the Silver Man.”

  Carter looked at his watch. He had an appointment with Fischetti, and it was time to go. He strode out without another word.

  ***

  Carter left thinking about Alison, the only one of the three worth any consideration at all, in his opinion.

  Alison’s different. She’s had a hard, miserable life completely devoid of love, affection, or friendship. All she ever learned at home was punishment, self-recrimination, and self-sacrifice. No wonder she doesn’t know up from down.

  Of the three of them, she’s the only one who killed, and yet is not a killer by nature or nurture. In every one of these scenarios, she’s the one trying to protect, defend and save people. If it hadn’t been for her, Agent Deeprose wouldn’t be here today. The others would be here, but not her.

  I’m going to see what I can do to get her moved into a psychiatric hospital and get her the help she needs. She needs compassion, not jail time.

  The other two can go straight to blazes for all I care.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  One Month Later

  Carter faced a great failing in himself when he told the three imprisoned women that the only thing that mattered in the end was if and how you were remembered by the people whose lives you touched. The fact is, he never understood or connected with anyone other than Seacrest. He wasn’t sure he ever even had the ability. In failing to understanding himself, he could never understand anyone else, either. Refusing to face that truth, he steeped himself in a quest to find answers.

  Then I went around pontificating to everyone else like a pompous ass. I was the man with all the answers. The man who had it all together and never broke under pressure.

  He learned, from the Silver Man, that he had no right to impose his philosophy or his answers on anyone. He’d used art of Zen to try to understand the meaning of life when he should have been trying to understand himself and how to live his life.

  Carter took a cold look at his life and didn’t like what he saw. He’d used his job as an excuse to avoid emotion, commitment, and the difficult choices that could have defined his true desires. The things that disturbed him, the things he didn’t understand, he ignored.

  I could have dragged out those boxes and examined the contents any time I wanted to, but I didn’t.

  Carter knew he’d never given back half the emotional support he took from Seacrest. She never asked him to share more of himself than the little he could manage.

  The worst of it was that I knew it all along, but I didn’t want to do the work it would’ve taken to be a better person and a better friend and husband. That ends right now. Today. She’s all the meaning I need and all the purpose I want.

  ***

  Carter was knee-deep in paper work, but he took the time to visit Agent Deeprose at the hospital every day. “We’ve started to cast a net wide enough to catch all our mystery men, and it’s mainly because of the big pieces you put together right after the old curator’s death.”

  “How’re y’all gonna do that, sir? That strong-arm won’t do us any good, and the JASONS have been operatin’ globally for generations. Do you know somethin’ Ah don’t, sir?”

  “Washington feels we have enough circumstantial evidence to warrant a full scale investigation. The F.B.I. has been compromised, so they’re out of it. We can’t afford to trust the C.I.A., D.O.D., D.O.J., or the military. There will be an independent investigations focusing on evidence of treason or collusion. It’ll be a long road, but we’ll get there.”

  “But sir, by t
hat time, the JASONS will have gone underground and changed out our current suspects for new faces. We’ll never get them if we have to wait so long just to get the process going.”

  “Well, that’s just it, Agent Deeprose. I was able to obtain a helping hand from the enforcer’s home organization. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  “Home what? Whose help? Ah don’t understand, sir.”

  “I just pointed out that if the mob had a little tangible proof of who killed one of their own and framed the other, they’d have a real reason to protect their interests and territory while they still could, and they agreed. The enforcer goes free as long as we have their help ferreting out the JASONS and as long as they can keep them too scared to move forward in any way. But, as long as the killings stop, I’m satisfied.”

  “What about a trial, sir? If the bodyguard goes free, who’s going to stand trial in his place so our evidence can be presented?”

  “There won’t be a trial for him, Agent. The deal is that the mob helps catch or kill the JASONS and for that they get back their new man of the hour. They’ll have their revenge and protect their own interests at the same time. What could be better than that? We still have the government offices, the Unholy Three and Michael to stand trial for their crimes.

  “I’m trying to work out a deal, in Alison’s case, that would will take her out of prison and into a place that can help her get well and back into society so she has the chance to lead a full and happy life. She saved your life, you know.”

  “Ah understand that, sir, but…”

  “Agent, no one’s going to get away with anything. I promise you that. Michael, Eliza, Clara, and Alison will all be tried and sentenced. It absolutely must go down the way I’ve arranged it or the JASONS will never be stopped. The heads of the families of organized crime all over the world are the only ones with the kind of reach and money it’ll take to end it, and that’s the real deal.”