With Cruel Intent

by Dennis Larsen

  “I guess we’ll find out. I think he’s actually enjoying himself, in a strange kind of way,” Ignatius said.

  “Okay Iggy, make this happen. Coordinate everything for Thursday night, that’s four nights from now, at 8:00 p.m., do you have any questions?”

  “No, other than, when do we hear from you again?”

  “Could be months, just stick to the plan. Don’t you two screw this up!”

  There was no goodbye, just the click of the receiver as the line was disconnected.

  Iggy sat in his car mulling over the discussion he’d just had with his ‘friend’. They had thought of everything, he was sure they had. He was anxious to have it all over with. The sneaking around, the plotting, and the stress of it all were taking its toll. He didn’t know how much more he could put up with. At least it appeared as if there was light at the end of the tunnel. He pulled up his laptop and logged onto the forum, formatted the message in such a way that Felix would understand, and hit ‘finish’.

  He would get the message, ‘Thursday night it’s a go, 8:00 p.m., final performance, speak with a friend.’

  Felix had done his homework, looked over all the information and statistics, land surveys and everything else Beverly had provided him. He spent an hour Monday morning on the phone with the Developers discussing the pros and cons of the property. He was relieved to hear that they weren’t ready to commit but wanted some more work done before making a final decision. This was not Felix’s first time around the block with real estate deals. He’d worked in Chicago behind the scenes, to secure and flip properties identified by the corrupt mayor’s organization, with a little something always kicked back their way. He could make anything look legitimate, which was his specialty.

  He worked on the dining room table at Caroline’s, typing and drafting the documents that he would normally want approved and looked over, by both a buyer and seller, before he brokered a final deal. He made sure that Mrs. Muir and Caroline knew exactly what he was doing, the more witnesses the better at this point. “Don’t appear to hide anything,” Jeremy had said. When he completed a list of questions that the CEO wanted answered, he called Beverly Davis.

  “Beverly, how are you? Felix Unger here.” He waited for a response.

  “Felix, I was hoping I’d hear from you today. Did you get the documents I scanned and emailed you?” she said, while looking into the rear view mirror of her BMW, smoothing her hair and checking her makeup.

  “That’s one of the reasons I’m calling. I’ve been on the phone a good part of the day with the CEO, and they are still very interested, even more so now that I’ve filled them in, but they have a few questions and concerns they would like me to address with you,” the smooth Felix said.

  “Oh, well that sounds really good. I’m sure I can clear up any concerns or question ya’ll may have, and the other reason you phoned?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in town but I just can’t get you off my mind. Was wondering if you’d like to have a drink or two with me tomorrow night. I’m kind of tied up till then, we could go over the list of concerns I’ve got and spend some time together, kill two birds with one stone,” he said, almost dropping the phone when he realized what he’d said.

  “That sounds lovely. Should we meet or do you want to pick me up?” she asked.

  They finalized their meeting arrangements, agreeing to meet at a local bar for some ribs and drinks and 'whatever', the following night.

  Felix needed to make one thing clear to Bev and wanted to get the phrasing just right, “Bev, I hate to even say anything, but I just want to be clear about one thing. I have a reputation to uphold, if the company I’m representing were to get word that I was having anything but a professional relationship with a business associate, especially with one as attractive as yourself, it could be devastating for my personal business. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

  “Certainly, I understand perfectly. I will keep our meetings and dealings strictly to myself until such time that we need to involve other parties. How does that sound?”

  “I would really appreciate it, can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

  Once off the phone with Felix, Bev hit another number from her cell and dialed the Valdosta Library. Blanche answered the phone, as she always did, pleasant and professional.

  “Is this the beautiful and busty bombshell that runs the library?” Bev said, in a loud obnoxious voice.

  “If this is Bev Davis it is, but if it’s Ester Anderson, then no, you must have me mistaken with someone else,” Blanche responded, a smile on her face.

  “How are you girl? I’ve missed our chats the past few days, what’s been takin’ up yer time?” Beverly asked, having no idea what Blanche had been through the past few days.

  “Oh heavens Bev, it’s going to take more than a phone call to bring you up to speed on all the excitement in my life, I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now but let’s get together. I’ve got a ton of stuff to tell you. Oh yeah, and aren’t you supposed to be finding me a place to live?”

  “Yes, I’m working on it dear. Good time to buy but everything for sale is up by the base; don’t think I want to sell you one of those, at least not right now. When can we get together? There’s a new chick flick at the cinema, why don’t we hit that this week.”

  Blanche thought for a moment, she’d not been to the movie in months. “That sounds awesome! I’m working tomorrow and Thursday night, but what’s your Friday look like? Girls night out, I’m pumped!”

  “I think I can make that work. I’ve got a little something going on between now and then, hope it keeps me tied up, turned inside out and panting for more, if you know what I mean. By Friday I should be able to disclose all the naughty details, can’t wait to see you. Oh, and I’ll see if I can find you a place to live in the mean time.”

  “You are horrible Bev Davis. Talk to you later,” Blanche said, her spirits lifted by the older woman’s enthusiasm.

  As Blanche hung up at the library, Felix was picking up again from the B&B. A woman answered, “Lowndes County Land and Title, can I help you, this is Marge.”

  “Good afternoon Marge, how’s your day going? My name is Felix Unger and I’m looking for some information about a piece of property that is for sale south of the base. Whom would I speak to about past titles and current information on the land?” he asked, continuing to play the role.

  “I see Mr. Unger, we have a number of people that could help you with that, may I transfer you?”

  “Now hold on there a minute Marge, I don’t want just anybody. This is a multi-million dollar deal so I need somebody with experience. We’d be happy to pay a consultation fee for any help, above and beyond, what your office generally provides, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I think I do, you’ll need to speak with our director then, Mr. Savard.”

  “He’s the man?”

  “Yes, he is,” Marge confirmed.

  “Well then, get the man on the phone for me, will you Marge? Thanks for your help.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m putting you through to his office now.”

  Felix waited patiently for the little weasel to pick up. “Director Savard.”

  “I’ll bet he loves hearing himself say that all day,” Felix thought. “Is this the world famous Iggy Savard, virgin slayer and man among men?”

  “Is this some kind of joke, who is this?” the director asked.

  “Who the hell do you think it is Iggy?” Felix said, kicked back on his bed using his cell phone.

  “Felix, why are you calling me? Did you read the latest message I posted?”

  “Yeah, I read it. I’ll follow through like we talked about, but I got to thinking, I may need an alibi if this goes sideways on us and I’ve decided that should be you.”

  “Why me? Can’t be me! What are you talking about? We don’t know each other, remember?”

  “I remember, but I’ve be
en thinking, maybe Jeremy’s more concerned about his own butt and not so much ours, so I thought up a solution that helps both of us. You ready to hear it?” Felix’s criminal mind was working in overdrive.

  “Okay, let‘s hear it but make it quick, I’m at work.”

  “I know! Why do you think I called your main line? Met Marge, she seems like a lovely woman, introduced myself and told her I was Felix Unger. Love doing that, mom and dad never would have appreciated the fun I’d have with my name over the years.”

  “Did I just hear you correctly? Did you say you told her who you were? Are you friggin’ nuts?” The director was starting to wig out.

  “Yea, she knows I’m interested in learning more about the land that Bev is flogging and I wanted to talk with somebody there that knows it all. That’s how I ended up with you. You’ve really got ‘em fooled over there, Iggy.”

  “So what’s this grand scheme?”

  “On Thursday night when our guys at work, you know at Bev’s, you’re going to be my alibi and I’m yours. Have your secretary put in your planner that you have a meeting with Felix Unger, representing Jenson Development, to discuss the land we’re looking at. Between now and then you get together some information about the land, and do whatever it is you do when you’re doing a consultation. We say we met out at the property, looked things over about six and then grabbed a bucket of chicken and ate it at your place. Of course you’ll do all that on your own, but I was with you the whole time. Got it? Most likely we aren't even going to need it but we need our stories to be straight. Any questions?” the mobster asked.

  Ignatius could have spent the next ten minutes shooting holes in Felix’s brainchild but opted to just agree and be done with it. “Whatever. I think I got it, like you said, I don’t think we’re gonna need it. You contacted our thief yet? Tell him I’ll be putting the stuff in his box Wednesday night once all the neighbors are asleep.”

  “Okay Iggy, now go and give Marge the appointment and don’t forget what we’ve said. Hell, who knows, maybe I’ll even drop by and introduce myself to you in the next day or two.”

  “Oh, Jeremy’s not going to like that.”

  “Oh, Jeremy’s not going to find out, is he?” he said in a very threatening tone. “Just do what you’re told Iggy,” concluding his message without a goodbye.

  While the two conspirators discussed how they might save themselves if their plans crumbled into chaos, a very sad and lonely Seymour Wood sat in a holding cell of the Valdosta Police station. He had been fingerprinted, photographed and dumped in a cell by himself, charges were pending and a date was being scheduled for his arraignment before the judge. They had not allowed him contact with anyone but had offered to make arrangements for his attorney, which he declined, knowing that he didn’t need one. Innocent men don’t need attorneys.

  “How can this be happening? Who would have wanted to frame me? I don’t have anything! I don’t know anything! What’s the point? I just don’t get it,” he ran it over and over again through his mind.

  He noted the cute deputy still hanging around the police station and he wondered what she was waiting for. She walked by close enough that she could hear him if he spoke loudly.

  “Hey, Deputy Guest, please can I ask you something.”

  She hesitantly walked to the cell enclosure and asked him what he wanted.

  “What’s going on, why won’t anybody talk to me? They haven’t even let me call anybody.”

  “Can’t say much. The gun we found in your locker, technically in your possession, is having some tests run on it. Checking it for ballistics and serial number confirmation. That’s about all I can tell you but I’ll make sure you get your call, be right back.”

  “Hold on a second, why are they running all the tests on the gun?”

  “Seymour, don’t you get it? The gun you had is possibly the one taken by The Stalker last week, and the black dude shot at The Dixie Diner, was shot with a .38. We’re looking at charging you with a whole list of crimes if the information on the gun comes back as we think it will.”

  “But deputy, I didn’t have anything to do with all that stuff! I’m just a student, you’ve got to believe me!” he pleaded with the young woman.

  Again her intuition told her he was telling the truth but the facts were staring her in the face, even if she didn’t want to believe them. “I’ll get you that phone Seymour.”

  A few minutes later she returned with a land line and a long cord plugged in across the room. He tried desperately to remember her phone number but could not. The library, he’d call the library, surely she would be the one to pick up. The phone rang a couple of times before a voice answered.

  “Valdosta Public Library, Jared speaking, how can I help you?”

  “Crap, Jared, what are you doing answering the phone?” a demoralized Seymour said.

  “Well, howdy doody to you too, who is this?” the teenager asked.

  “It’s Seymour; I have to talk to Blanche, right away!” an unmistakable degree of urgency in his voice.

  “Well, hold your horses, I’ll get her.”

  Five minutes later her sweet voice filled his earpiece. “Seymour, I was hoping I’d hear from you today. I’ve done nothing but think about our date the other night. I have a story to tell.....”

  “Blanche, Blanche, listen to me! I’m sorry I cut you off but I’m in trouble and I need your help!”

  “What do you mean you’re in trouble? What’s going on? Where are you?” she heard the pitch in her voice rising.

  “I’ve been arrested. I’m at the police station and I didn’t know who else to call. This is going to kill my mom and I wanted somebody to break it to her gently, could you do that for me?”

  “But why have they arrested you? What have you done?”

  “I haven’t done anything, that’s the crazy thing about it. Somebody planted a gun in my locker and they think that I’m The Stalker and shot that black guy on Saturday night,” he said, between sobs.

  “They think you shot Jasper?” the words of the police officer with the meager mustache jumped through her mind.

  “Who? Who’s Jasper? Blanche, you’re not making any sense. They think I shot that black guy that was involved in the drug shooting on Saturday.”

  “I know. That was Jasper. I was there! That was my friend that I told you about; he was the one that was shot. Seymour, please tell me you really don’t know anything about this and you didn’t have anything to do with shooting Jasper! It would just break my heart if you were involved somehow.”

  “Blanche, of course I’m not involved! I would never do anything to hurt you. Somebody is setting me up and I don’t know why. Please believe me! I need someone to trust me. I need your help. I don’t know who else I can phone, you and my mom are the only people I can trust.”

  “Seymour, I do believe you. What do you want me to do?”

  * * *

  The cell phone rang a dozen times; he looked at it in the palm of his hand, knowing who was at the other end. He was so ready to be done with Felix, and whoever, but he also knew he would not see his money if he didn’t do the one last ‘outing’ they required of him.

  “Yeah,” he said, a lack of excitement in his voice.

  “Lester, you ready to conclude our business arrangement?” Felix asked.

  “Absolutely, I’m ready to move on to bigger and better things,” he said, thinking of Blanche.

  “Your info packet will be there Thursday morning when you get up, just as before. This one has to be specific, on time, and nobody gets hurt. The info will be in your packet.”

  “What do you mean ‘on time’?” Lester inquired.

  “We’ll have the occupant away from the house from 8:00 p.m. to about 10:00. You’ll have the house to yourself, do this one up right, tear it apart like you were in a frenzy. This one has to put the police and the media over the top,” his handler informed him.

  “They obviously don’t know about Seymour’s arrest and the
implications,” he thought. “Okay, I’ll be there at 8:00 p.m. and out before 10:00. Anything you want left at the scene, pictures or anything like that? I could do some more artwork if you like.” Lester’s plan would move ahead regardless of how it would impact his employer’s scheme. He wasn’t stupid, not by a long shot, he knew it was just a matter of time before they figured out that Seymour had nothing to do with the shooting or the break-ins, but before that revelation came he would need to be on his way with Blanche.

  “Nope, you just keep doing what you think is working, you’ve been very good at what you do. Your money will show up when the job is done,” Felix assured him.

  “It better! Don’t want to have to track you guys down. So this will be the last time we talk, I’m abandoning my place after Thursday, don’t try to find me,” he concluded.

  “Oh, I’m sure we won’t need to, thanks for your help. Good luck!” Felix hung up, a wry smile twisted across his face.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Blanche left the library as soon as she was able to secure front desk help. Marcus had been kind enough to offer a ride to the overwrought young lady, and they were on their way to the Wood farm, following the directions Seymour had given her. The ride was a quiet one, she had much to think about and sort out in her own mind. Marcus was cautious, but comforting with his words of hope, he spoke with assurance and clarity that brought peace to her mind. He knew Seymour as well as anybody at the library and knew that he was not the person he was accused of being. It was not in his nature. His confidence in a speedy resolution would make it easier to break the news to Mrs. Wood, and having the older, wiser Marcus there couldn’t hurt.

  They rolled up to the modest, unassuming farm. A small country home sat at the end of the drive, the old pickup truck parked there, a couple of hay bales in the back. A barn with red, peeling paint could be seen a ways behind the house, the doors hanging loosely from the worn hinges, and a rusty old tractor just visible inside. It was not what Blanche expected, but she could see signs of the hard work and labor that had fashioned the character of the man she had fallen for. A woman in her late fifties walked onto the porch, an apron around a well worn blue dress and a mixing bowl tucked inside the curve of her left arm, with a spoon handle in her right that extended into the bowl.