by Henry Hack
“I wouldn’t think he’d end up there. Anything else?”
“Married to Diane. Two children – Theodore and Melissa.”
Ted choked back a sob and said, “Jesus! I’m an uncle. And he named his kids after me and Missy.”
“I’ll print out everything for you and bring it to the next meeting – unless you want it sooner.”
“No, no, that will be fine. Thanks so much for finding him, but was there anything on Melissa?”
“I’m afraid not. It’s tougher with women because of marital name changes. Hey, maybe your brother knows her whereabouts.”
“I’ll find that out when I contact him, but first things first, if you know what I mean.”
“I sure do. See you at the meeting.”
A few days after the twelve apostles had successfully completed their first mission, Ted picked up the phone in the kitchen of his modest ranch house in a Denver suburb and dialed the number of his brother’s residence in Queens. A girl’s voice, answered, “Hello.”
“Hello there,” Ted said. “Is this Melissa?”
“Everyone calls me Missy,” she said. “How do you know my name?”
“I’m your… I’m a friend of your Dad’s. Can I speak to him?”
“I’ll get him. Um… what’s your name?”
“Ted.”
“That’s my brother’s name. Hold on.”
Ted heard Melissa call her father and he came on the phone a few moments later.
“Hello, Joey. It’s Ted.”
“Ted?”
“Ted, Joey. Your brother.”
“My brother? Who is this? Is this some kind of joke?”
“No joke, Joey. I found you. We were separated after mom was killed in the car accident. I was ten, you were eight and Missy was six.”
“Jesus Christ! Let me sit down. How did you find me?”
“I have a friend who’s a whiz on the computer. He found you, but couldn’t find Missy.”
“Missy lives about ten miles from me in East Meadow, out on Long Island.”
“Now I have to sit down. Tell me all about her. How did you find her?”
“We ended up together in the same foster home after a few years and we always stayed close. She’s married with two kids. She named them Joseph after Dad, and Sally after Mom.”
“That’s great. Let me have her number and I’ll give her a call after we finish.”
“Sure. It’s 516-555-6387 and her name is Winters now. Her husband’s name is Jim. Why don’t you let me call her first, so I can break the news gently?”
“Okay, call me back when you’ve done that and I’ll call her then. Does she remember me?”
“Not too well, I’m afraid. She was so young when we were separated. You know, we both tried to find you, too.”
“No luck though, that’s obvious.”
“Neither of us knew your date of birth. Even with a name like Gillenbock we struck out.”
“I had an unlisted number, and now I use a cell phone exclusively.”
“Well, we found each other now,” Joe said. “When can we get together?”
“If it’s all right with you and Missy, I can fly out this weekend, or the next.”
“That would be great. We can firm it up when you call her.”
“Good, I’ll let you go now, my brother.”
“Good-bye… brother. I’m looking forward to seeing you soon.”
Ted was elated. Not only was the first campaign of the Romens off to a successful start, but he had found his family. After he and Joe had spoken with Melissa they had set the last weekend in October for his visit. He told George of his plans and he knew his best friend was happy for him. “I’m so glad I was able to locate your brother,” he said.
“I’ve never been happier,” Ted said. “I have a great purpose in life with the Romens and now I have a family after all these years. What could be better?”
“How will I recognize you?” Joe asked as he spoke on the phone with Ted the night before his arrival at JFK airport in New York.
“The only thing that will stand out is I have a beard. It helps keep my face warm in the cold Colorado winters.”
“Okay, and I’ll be holding up a sign with TED printed on it.”
The flight from Denver arrived on time the next day at noon and Ted spotted Joe right away holding up the sign with a big grin on his face. Joe said, “This is our sister.”
Ted hugged Joe and then Melissa, a pretty, petite brunette, and the tears freely flowed from all of them as they sat down at a table in the food court. “I can’t believe this is happening,” Missy said. “I have a new brother, one I thought was lost to me forever.”
“I always thought about this day,” Ted said, “but I never thought I would see either of you again.”
They finished their coffee and sandwiches and headed to the parking lot. As soon as they got outside the terminal, as if on cue, both Joey and Missy lit up a cigarette.
“You both smoke?” Ted asked, with obvious disapproval in his voice.
“Yeah,” Joe said meekly.
“Cigarettes killed our father. I’m surprised you would smoke after that.”
“I didn’t know that,” Melissa said.
“Neither did I,” Joe said. “I thought he had a heart attack.”
“No, those goddamn coffin nails did him in – lung cancer. I tend to believe there’s a hereditary component in cancer, so I’m paranoid about smoking.”
They both sheepishly dropped their cigarettes to the sidewalk and ground them out.
“Hey,” Ted said, “I don’t want to play big brother and tell you what to do, but the last thing I want is to lose you two to some horrible disease right after I just found you.”
“I think we both know smoking’s bad,” Joe said, “but it’s so damn hard to quit.”
“It sure is,” Missy said. “We both tried many times.”
“What about the effects on your kids – my nieces and nephews?”
“We never smoke around them,” Joe said. “Not in the house or in the car.”
“That’s something, I guess,” Ted said. “Maybe someday the big tobacco companies will get their just rewards for drugging and killing thousands of people.”
They walked in silence into the parking lot and finally reached Melissa’s car – a two-year old huge Grand Ranger. “You must make a lot of money to afford to run this monster,” Ted said.
“It does suck up the gas, but with the kids and their sports equipment and friends and the dog…”
“I went the mini-van route,” Joe said. “It’s got the room, and the gas mileage is better.”
“I drive a four cylinder Toyota. My theory is a car is for getting you from point A to point B as cheaply as possible – but then I don’t have kids and stuff to drag around.”
They left the airport and Joe asked, “What do you do out there in the wilds of Colorado?”
Ted knew that question was bound to arise and he had prepared the necessary fabrication. He couldn’t, after all, casually inform his new found family he was the leader of a fanatical, environmental terrorist group supported by stolen funds. “I work for the state,” he said. “In the Conservation Department.”
“Like you protect the environment?” Missy asked.
“Yes, I check to see the loggers cut only what they are allowed to cut, and they properly re-plant the areas. We also make sure the paper mills obey the anti-pollution laws.”
“Sounds interesting,” Joe said. “And necessary, I’m sure.”
“Oh, yes. Left to their own devices the manufacturers, allowed by our spineless, greedy politicians, would destroy the earth if we didn’t stop them.”
“You feel strongly about your work,” Missy said.
“Yes, I do.” Then realizing he had been preaching a little too hard he added, “Things are getting better, though. Enough about me – tell me all about yourselves – all I missed over the past twenty-five years.”
“Tha
t’s a lot of time to cover,” Joe said.
“I’m a good listener. Take as long as you want and don’t leave out a thing.”
Ted was extremely upset with Joe and Melissa’s behavior and habits, but he vowed to suppress that disappointment and concentrate on enjoying the weekend with them and his nephews and nieces. And he did, as best as possible, but Long Island and neighboring New York City were not his idea of paradise. They walked on the boardwalk at the famous Jones Beach and the ocean sparkled in the crisp autumn air under a deep, blue sky. But as they strolled at the water’s edge he noticed the trash and oil lumps thrown up by the not so clean sea. And the trash in the sand – coffee cups, soda bottles and the ever present multitude of cigarette butts. And on the local streets litter was everywhere. Hadn’t these people ever heard of a trashcan?
By Sunday afternoon he had had enough and couldn’t wait to return home. Missy was preparing a farewell dinner at her house where he was staying, and after that excellent meal the kids went into the family room to watch TV and the five adults remained at the table sipping their coffees. “What do you think of Long Island?” asked Joey's wife, Diane.
“A nice place, but it has its drawbacks.”
“Like what?” asked Missy’s husband, Jim.
“You told me about the high taxes and I noticed the gas prices are at least thirty cents a gallon more here than in Colorado. But what I don’t like are the crowds – the congestion everywhere on the roads, in the stores – and the litter. We just don’t have that out West.”
“I would love to come out and see that beautiful part of our country,” Missy said
“I’d like that. You could all come together. Bring the kids on your next summer vacation – after the snow melts out there.”
“What about those murders and arsons going on?” Jim asked.
Ted chose his next words carefully. “Whoever these nuts are, let’s hope they stop these terrible crimes soon.”
By the middle of January the death toll of murdered SUV owners stood at seventy-three. The Savior asked the Apostle Mark to kill two targets in the New York area, just to let them know they were everywhere, and then he had gotten specific. “Mark,” he said, “I want a target chosen from Queens County and one from Nassau County – a male in Queens and a female from Nassau. And before you have your disciples pull the trigger, I want the names and addresses of the intended targets well ahead of time.” Ted wanted to send a message to his brother and sister, but certainly did not want them targeted as a result of an unlucky selection by Mark.
“Sure, when do you want to go the media with our demands?”
“After we kill all ninety-six targets and right before we begin the second phase of our next campaign. But we first have to bring our disciple strength up to its full complement. How many more do we need?”
“Five,” Peter said.
“Let’s hope there aren’t many more failures. The recruitment process is a difficult one.”
“I’m having the other apostles put out feelers already,” Peter said.
“Good. I would like to have them all on board before we move into our second campaign, if possible, but I don’t want you to hurry the screening process. We can start without those five if you’re not finished.”
“How are things going with your family?”
“Okay, I guess. You know, I had those two targets chosen in New York to send a message to my brother and sister.”
“Do you think it will have the desired effect?”
“I sure hope so.”
7
When Spider Webb joined Danny Boyland in the Task Force, Danny warned him about George Washington’s bizarre sense of humor. “No problem, partner,” Spider had said. “Remember, I developed a thick skin working with you misfits in Nassau Homicide.”
It had not taken long for George to strike, doing so right after Spider introduced himself to the rest of the team. He said, “What’s with this Spider bullshit?”
“Just a nickname, George. Most of us in the squad had one hung on us, whether we liked it or not, but I am known for spinning my web tightly around the bad guys.”
“Spinning your web, my ass. Go spin your web around Danny Boy, the fag. Bet he hit on you, huh, Spider? Told us all he likes black men. But maybe you just think he likes you, Spider. I think this liking black people and marrying a sister shit is just a cover up. I think…”
They were all laughing hard now, even Spider. McKee said, “Okay, listen up. Spider, you will be with Joe Ramos replacing Nick Faliani. What you see here is all the manpower we will have for the foreseeable future, so let’s make the best of it.”
“More than enough for these Romen bastards,” Joe Ramos said. “Bring 'em on!”
On February 25, the death toll reached ninety-one and law enforcement agencies across the nation were not a step closer to solving one of them. The pressure from the media seemed to increase exponentially with each new killing. The country was literally terrified of driving, or being a passenger in an SUV, and the sales of those vehicles approached zero. Then, in mid-March, Inspector Petersen came back from a high-level meeting in Washington and announced to the team, “We have something.”
“A break, finally?” John McKee asked.
“Not quite, but it’s a lead. A couple were hiking in the woods in Oregon and stumbled upon a half-eaten corpse of a white male that had been pulled out of a shallow grave. It had two slugs in its head and they matched them with one of the victims killed in November about two miles from where the body was found. The body was identified as Philip Wendell and he was an active member of both ALF and ELF. He had a minor criminal record. Any thoughts?”
“Yeah,” Ramos said. “Wendell couldn’t pull the trigger, so the Romans offed him.”
“And someone else pulled the trigger on the victim instead,” Spider said. “Probably the same guy who killed Wendell.”
“That’s what the consensus in D.C. was,” Petersen said.
“I wonder how many others chickened out,” Danny said.
“We won’t know unless some more bodies turn up,” McKee said, “but we need more than this. We still need a break – a big one – soon.”
As if in response to John McKee’s desperate request, three days later he heard from a most unlikely source – Pop Hunter. Pop had called John and requested a meeting with him as soon as possible saying, “I might have something for you.”
Pop declined to come into the JTTF’s offices, or into any law enforcement office, and insisted on meeting John for dinner in an out of the way restaurant in Queens. They set the time for six that evening and Pop’s parting words to John were, “Don’t drive – take the subway.”
John and Pop arrived together at the restaurant – both had probably been on the same E train. They settled into a quiet booth near the rear. “It’s good to see you, Pop,” John said, “but you have got my curiosity way up. It’s not like you to play the mysterious role.”
“Wait’ll you hear my story, then tell me if I’m being overly cautious or paranoid.”
“Okay. How is Vera, and how’s the new job going?”
“Both fine and my job is where I got this info. I’m working undercover at the corporate headquarters of Henderson-Sparr Industries in Manhattan and my job is to find the guy siphoning off large amounts of money and how it’s being done.”
“Any luck so far?”
“Yeah, I know who’s doing the stealing and how he’s doing it, all right.”
“Obviously the culprit was no match for ex-Detective First Grade Charles Hunter,” John said. “How did you get onto him?”
“Dumb fuck told me. I didn’t have a clue before that.”
“Told you? Why the hell would he do that?”
“I guess I conned him a little. Actually, I lied my ass off.”
John laughed. “Like I said – good detective work.”
“Maybe so, but the embezzlement is small potatoes compared to what else this guy told me. He knows a lot ab
out the Romens.”
“You have my full attention.”
“He’s an associate of one of their groups. His cousin is what he referred to as a disciple.”
“How many disciples are in a group?”
“Eight.”
“And how many groups are there?”
“Don’t know, and this guy – Bob Willis – doesn’t know either. But he does know what Romens stands for – The Resurrection of Mother Earth Now Society.
“We’ve been trying to figure that out since the first murder.”
“I guess it’s good to know, but it’s not gonna help you catch them.”
“No. We have to get somebody on the inside, but that seems impossible.”
“Not anymore,” Pop said. “You’re looking at the famous undercover agent, Samuel Charles, who has been invited to meet with Willis’ disciple cousin as a potential recruit for the Romen society.”
“Holy crap! How did that happen?”
“To make a long story short, I gained his confidence and led him to believe I was a die-hard environmentalist who agreed whole-heartedly with the goals and tactics of the Romens. We had many conversations in the break room, and when he told me Henderson-Sparr had a hand in several businesses that directly harmed the environment, I feigned outrage and told him I was going to quit the company. Before he could respond, I angrily said to him, “How the hell can you continue to work here?”
“I can see you sucking him in, you old devil.”
“And suck him in I did. That’s when he told me he can’t quit because he’s doing them more harm by working there and stealing their money.”
“How does he do it?”
“He works in accounts payable as a supervisor. The Romens submit phony invoices for services performed by companies that don’t exist, and Willis authorizes the payments.”
“How much has he embezzled?”
“I don’t know exactly – tens of thousands according to him. I haven’t let Sheldrake know I’m onto to him yet, for obvious reasons.”
“Why did you insist I take the subway here?”
“To prevent anyone who may be following you from getting your license plate number.”