The List Conspiracy (Wallis Jones Series 2016)

by Martha Carr

  “You had to wear the collar?”

  “It’s company policy,” said the priest, “kind of like being a Rockette.”

  “Episcopalian humor, no doubt,” said Norman.

  “Which is why we get along so well, Mr. Weiskopf. We both have these highly developed frameworks for what’s funny that involve the longer view of anything.”

  “I assume you’re referring to eternity.”

  The Reverend took a sip of his coffee, letting the conversation drop for a moment.

  “My brother, Tom is coming for a sudden visit,” said Norman.

  “Is that so?”

  “I’m assuming you already knew about it.”

  “Did you call me here to check my social calendar?”

  “The force is disturbed,” said Norman.

  “Star Wars reference in the middle of all this. I like it.”

  “Both sides seem to be a little testy right now.” Norman glanced up at his friend, squinting. “My wife has gotten drawn into it.”

  “Ah, at last we’re getting to the point.”

  “A neighbor of mine, an innocent old man was killed this week while walking his dog in our sleepy little subdivision.”

  “Larry Blazney, yes, I heard. Very unfortunate.”

  “That sums it up in an understated sort of way. It appears they picked him up in front of my house. Did you hear that as well?”

  The old priest didn’t react and kept sipping his coffee. Norman gave the back of his head a quick, nervous pat.

  “Who were they really after, Father Donald?”

  “Not who, so much as what. They believe Wallis has something of interest, so do we.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Ray Billings and his apparent suicide. I got the chance to see the corpse before he was abruptly cremated. For a suicide he really took the hard way out of here. His wife, Lilly is a good Episcopalian, you know. The official cause of death put us in quite a pickle, even the Episcopalians balk at taking your own life. We decided to focus more on the apparent side of things and give him the burial he really deserved. You know, Ray told quite a few people to get in touch with Wallis if anything happened to him. Do you know why that is?”

  Norman let out a deep sigh. “No, and I’m really beginning to take a dislike to this Ray Billings. His good buddy, Stanley Woermer showed up on our doorstep looking for Wallis. What is it everyone is looking for?” asked Norman.

  He was a good lawyer, never asking a question he didn’t already know the answer to. They wanted the thumb drive.

  But Norman was part of the original line descended from the zwanzig and had been taught well. Trust no one completely, ever.

  “Never hate the dead, Norman, bad karma,” said the Father. “What, a priest can’t make a religion joke? You look a little tired, Norman. This has been a long week and it’s only the first of many. A war has started or at least come out in the open and like it or not, Wallis has been enlisted. She just doesn’t know it yet, or does she?”

  The Reverend looked up from his cup.

  “No, she doesn’t really know. I was hoping to never tell her.”

  “Yes, your father told me about your reluctance. I have always thought it was foolish. Knowledge is power.”

  “It’s also a manipulation.”

  “Very true and there is no avoiding that paradigm but better to be aware you are being manipulated than to walk into a trap, completely blind. Get some rest, you’re going to need it, particularly when Tom comes to town.”

  A white paneled van drove slowly past them taking the corner and turning out onto West Broad Street.

  “Things are never going to be the same around here, I fear,” said Father Donald as he watched the van gather speed. “The usual checks and balances are quickly falling away. People are starting to become desperate and old ties may soon come loose.”

  “You think that van was a warning, don’t you?”

  “It was at the very least a small courtesy. I had better go. We have been standing here long enough to exchange simple pleasantries.” The Reverend turned to get back into the black Lincoln Continental that had the name, St. Stephen’s in small gold scroll under the driver side handle.

  Norman leaned back against his car and waited for the minister to start the engine. Father Donald put down his window and leaned out a little. “Oh, by the way, just so you know, some young zwanzig went missing earlier today with their father. The mother is sadly already dead in another apparent suicide and after she had struggled so much as a child. She had been left a kind of orphan, you see.” The Father gave Norman a long look as he pulled away.

  Norman waited until Father Donald had pulled away in traffic till he placed a call to Alan Vitek. He was beginning to feel like things were slipping out of his control.

  “Alan, I have a job for you. I need you to go and check on a man named, Stanley Woermer. Just see what kind of condition he’s in and get back to me. No, I don’t have an exact address but he’s an original Richmonder and with a name like that. Yes, call me as soon as you know.”

  Alan took the information and hung up without another question. He had been trained to ask as few questions as possible. Questions tended to muddy up the situation anyway.

  Norman had been right. Stanley Woermer’s address was easy to find. Native Richmonders never tried to hide. It didn’t matter if they were millionaires or thieves. It would have been bad manners.

  Stanley lived over on Roseneath Road in an older suburb of Richmond not too far from the Fan district.

  Alan parked a block away and slowly strolled toward the address. Parked out front was Wallis’ Jag with the spider and the circle of stars with a line through the middle, scratched into the paint. He considered calling Norman back to give him a heads up but decided to find out more information first.

  He approached the open door quietly and as he neared he could hear someone rooting around inside.

  “Wallis?” He said it without concern, hoping she would be the one to emerge as his fingers lightly touched the gun strapped just under his jacket.

  “Alan?” Wallis came out into the light with a look of surprise on her face. “Did Norman call you? He told me to let it go, but something is wrong. Stanley’s not here.” Her voice was strained, so unlike her.

  “Why does that mean something’s wrong?”

  “Good point. I’m not sure I know the answer to that one,” said Wallis, looking quickly around at the small mess she had made. Tucked under a small pile of newspapers she saw the travel book Stanley had carried out of the bookstore.

  “Can you look for Stanley?” she asked Alan. “Till you find him?”

  “Yes,” he said, slowly, his Appalachian accent drawing out the word even more. He had never seen Wallis so out of balance. “Absolutely. I’ll make it a priority.”

  “Good, good.” Wallis stepped around the piles on the floor as Alan came further into the room. “Until you find him,” she said, “and then call me. Me,” she said with emphasis, tapping her chest.

  Wallis drove off toward Patterson Avenue playing a hunch. Esther was sitting behind the front desk in the bookstore carefully writing down all of the week’s sales in an old bound composition notebook. She looked up as the bell jingled above the door and saw the look of concern on Wallis’ face.

  “It’s Stanley, isn’t it?”

  “How did you know?” asked Wallis, hesitating for just a moment. She reached out to steady herself, placing a hand on top of a tall pile of children’s books that were stacked on a table just inside the door. There were books piled on the two tables in the front room and on the floor nearby.

  “Why else would you seek me out?” she said. “Is he alright?”

  “I have no idea,” said Wallis. “This is going to sound selfish but I came because I didn’t know where else to go and I feel like the ground is slipping out from under me a little.”

  “Self preservation must come first, dear,” said Esther, “otherwise the other side al
ready has the advantage. You do know there are two sides here, no?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Esther. Only that there are a few strange things going on and I have pitifully little information.”

  “I told them that was a mistake, keeping you out of the loop like that. No one listened.”

  “Who? Who wouldn’t listen?”

  Esther came from around the counter and locked the front door, turning the closed sign around and dimming the lights.

  “Come with me inside this maze of books. There is a little genius to my style of housekeeping. No one will see or hear us in there, I am sure of it. I have taken precautions,” she said with a wink.

  Esther gently took Wallis’ hand and led her back into the stacks till they were sitting in a little cove of books.

  “Sit,” said Esther, gesturing toward a small velvet loveseat. She stood in front of Wallis and began to pace the small space. “This is an old story. It’s not generally worth telling because no one would ever believe it. It’s brilliant really and so easy to dismiss.”

  “We’re still talking about Stanley, aren’t we?” Wallis was taking long deep breaths willing herself to calm down.

  “Indirectly, yes. Normally, I would tell someone that Stanley got mixed up with the wrong characters and hint at some criminal element. People can understand that and they feel better. All is right with the world. But you, my dear, are in a unique situation and I like you, I always have. Yes, I’ve known who you are for quite some time. It’s a small town and you are a big fish,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “Besides, it has always amazed me how you can be in the middle of such a big plot and know absolutely nothing. It’s breathtaking really and I don’t mind admitting just a little envy. I was actually hoping Norman was right this time.”

  Wallis sat up at the mention of her husband. “Norman? You know about Norman. What does he have to do with any of this?”

  “Now, now, no need for anger although it’s touching. Norman sits at the center of this too, but very reluctantly. You see, he is a second generation zwanzig, descended from one of the twenty survivors, but with a twist. I know all of this means nothing to you, my dear and sweet Norman hoped to keep it that way. But things have changed and not for the better.”

  Esther settled into the seat next to Wallis and took both of her hands.

  “Money corrupts nothing but power infects like a virus and can only be contained, never completely destroyed. For centuries that power was centralized in monarchies that ruled all of the civilized world and there was some order to everything. At least the greed and manipulation was out in the open. But times changed and the old orders were coming apart. Those in power weren’t going to let something like a revolution or a few beheadings separate them from the lifestyle they believed they deserved.”

  “Really?” said Wallis, annoyed. “You’re really going to go back 200 years for this fairytale? Norman is caught up in a 200 year old power struggle?”

  “See why it’s so brilliant? More like four hundred years if the rumors about Management are to be believed. But really, why wouldn’t there be shenanigans going on behind all off the pomp and circumstance? And make no mistake my dear, you are just as caught as Norman.”

  “Why, because I’m a Republican?” said Wallis sarcastically.

  Esther smiled. “No, my dear. Those parties, Democrat, Republican really are just games for the average citizen to play to distract them from realizing that so much has already been decided. Always remember that the most effective schemes are meant to inspire suspicion and cause a distraction. The election ads certainly fit that bill,” said Esther. “Violence is always the move of someone who is truly panicked. Besides, the real manipulations go across all lines, including the artificial borders set up by governments and have more to do with the bloodlines that can’t be chosen. That’s what has caught you in its web and I’m afraid, Ned as well.”

  Wallis felt a shiver go down her back at the mention of her son. “What are you saying?”

  “Ned is Norman’s son as well, which makes him a zwanzig, a twenty and the other side is beginning to wonder about Norman’s heritage. You see, Tom, Norman’s grandfather, wanted to give his family a clean slate and made a point of destroying all records of where the family started. No one outside of the immediate family knew how close they came to being annihilated in Nazi Germany and no Weiskopf has ever mentioned it. The new back story was that they emigrated earlier. You believe your in-laws came to America long before the murderous rampage across Europe but that’s a lie. But I’m getting ahead of myself and you will not understand if I don’t fill in some missing pieces.

  “Norman would never lie to me.”

  “Norman has been lying for so long I’m not sure he realizes anymore that it’s not the truth. You see, back when this country was beginning to form there were two groups vying for power. One side believed in the old system of keeping all of the power for a few favored bloodlines and raising the subordinates that would be needed from a few trusted families. It was all they had ever known and of course they thought that was best. But a new spirit was gripping this country and there was a revolutionary idea that even a commoner should have the right to decide his own fate. It sounds commonplace now but really, it takes quite a bit of faith to believe that so many people will vote for the greater good, ever.

  “It was a spectacular beginning, really, but it didn’t last past the first few administrations. The other side, which came to be known colloquially as the Management learned how to ingratiate itself into power through the grassroots. They used an old method and tweaked it just a little. Soon, all of those good intentions were slipping away, not only here but all across the world. Remember the old saying, the sun never sets on the British Empire? Just one example. Technology only helped Management to grow. But there were still those who believed in a purer form of democracy and they were determined to be free. They have tried again and again but for an entire century all of them failed miserably. It is never good to come at a giant from the front. They step on you like an annoying bug. A new idea formed to infiltrate the seats of government and the financial world with a second set of eyes and ears and they became the Circle.”

  Esther pulled back one side of the cardigan she was wearing to reveal the small lapel pin with the circle of stars.

  “That’s scratched into the side of my car,” said Wallis, feeling her heart beating faster. “There’s a line scratched through the middle.”

  “Yes, a warning, I’m not surprised. Does Norman know?”

  “He was with me when it happened. Someone stole a file I had in my purse.”

  Esther grasped Wallis’ hands tighter. “They got the file? What was in it, what exactly? Did they get anything else?” she hissed, spitting out the words in a rapid fire.

  “No, no,” Wallis stammered, “It was a BIGOT list, that’s all, I think, as far as I know.”

  “Who told you that word, BIGOT?”

  “Some strange man with an accent tried to warn me last night. He said I was being followed, tracked somehow. He said his name was Helmut.”

  “I don’t know him, best to be cautious. They are getting careless. My word, how much do they know?” said Esther, taking a deep breath and shaking her head. “We have to focus. Enough of an old woman’s story. Here is what you really need to know. The first real effort against Management was at the beginning of the last century. The Circle chose a small European country, Armenia that interested no one. They had learned that it was better to go undetected as much as possible. But the Management learned of the effort to undermine them and sent in Turks from the great Ottoman Empire. It took only two years to kill one and a half million men, women and children and wipe Armenia off of the map forever.” Esther stopped for a moment as she let out a deep sigh. Her entire body tensed as she looked down at her lap. “It was meant as a warning but the Circle didn’t listen and tried again. The second attempt ended in a greater Holocaust. Ever since it seems
the tug of war between the two sides, well…” She hesitated as if she were trying to figure something out. “Maybe all we accomplished was to play out our part in creating a wasteland across the twentieth century.”

  “What are you saying? That Hitler was part of this, what, Management?” said Wallis, almost at a shout.

  “He was a clever and twisted part of a vast empire but in the end not welcomed even there. I’ll grant you that there were those within his own organization that regretted ever helping him get elected. It has been the only time so far that Management has ended up warring with itself. It was heartening to see that even Management had its limits but a ruthless opportunity was seized at the same time to wipe out a problem. Millions of people died, many of them had nothing to do with the Circle but they paid as well. Management couldn’t be sure and they weren’t taking any chances. However, not all of the Circle perished.”

  “The twenty.”

  “Yes, the zwanzig. Twenty young men and women who managed to escape to this country and start anew. By that time they had new allies as well. The Armenian atrocity had enlightened others to the greater good as well, like that uprising in India and Gandhi. But in the end he paid for his efforts as well, didn’t he? Still, there were those who joined together and formed a larger Circle. Management was aware of the possibility of a new threat and as distasteful as they found anyone from that horrible Nazi regime they helped many of them escape as well. Right next door to us in fact, in South America. It was a policy of keep your enemies closer and in this case, I suppose, both elements were suspect.”

  “The list in that file. The list someone stole from me today, this Management stole, it was a list of boys’ names, some of them boys I know. What was it? And there were numbers after each name,” said Wallis.

  “Some of them are Management’s newest recruits. If that’s all they got from you they must be very disappointed tonight. The numbers are nothing, not to ponder at all,” said Esther, patting her hand.

  “Why is Ned in danger?”

  “I like that about you, your focus. It will serve you well. Legacies and their ways die very hard and Management has always seen the blood line of the zwanzig as particularly dangerous. It’s as if they believe there is something more powerful about what can be passed through DNA. We have worked hard to protect the lines and keep them a secret as much as possible but something has happened and I’m afraid we aren’t sure exactly what. Some of their number has been thinned.”