Siblings

by K. J. Janssen

  “I’m all ears. It’s good to see you again, Agent Hawkins. I sure do appreciate the heads up the other night. That was a close call. From what I read about what went down, I missed that raid by just a few minutes.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry about cutting it so close. I didn’t even know myself that it was going down that fast. I got caught in a traffic tie-up miles away and didn’t arrive on the scene until they were already removing those thugs from the house. I’m sure glad you got out of there on time. Have a seat and let me go over all this. To start with, you couldn’t have done a better job. This entire operation hinged on you delivering those packages to Hopkins’ house and no one suspecting that you were working with us. Some of the state’s top drug lords and Mafioso were there. All that was necessary was for the drugs to arrive to link them up. We didn’t expect the Abbotts to show; that was serendipity at its finest.”

  “So the FBI is satisfied with the way things went?”

  “They expected to net a few more, but I heard that the Director was pleased with the raid.” Hawkins hesitated for a minute. “Oh, by the way we removed all of our equipment from your apartment. We’re no longer listening in on you.”

  Wilson looked surprised. “You mean you didn’t record anything yesterday?”

  “I’m afraid not. We did a sweep the next day while you were at work. Why do you ask? It shouldn’t matter to you any more, now that the Abbotts are behind bars.”

  “It matters because one of George’s goons paid me a visit yesterday. He wanted to be sure that I would keep my mouth shut. I play-acted about how I did my share and how I wanted the fifteen grand I was promised. He told me that that wasn’t going to happen. I acted pissed and told him I didn’t want anything to do with welchers, like the Abbotts. I emphasized that they didn’t have to worry about me saying anything; that I wasn’t a squealer. He seemed to buy it. He admitted that George lied to me about what I was delivering, but if you weren’t recording anything, I’m screwed. If I had known that you took everything out, I would have recorded the conversation on my cell phone. Wait a minute. Didn’t you monitor the conversation with the pen? One of them was on the table within a few feet of where he was sitting.”

  Beads of perspiration began to appear on Hawkins’ forehead. “I’m afraid not. We cut off all communication devices at the time we did the sweep of your place. That’s standard protocol in cases like this. By the way I’ll need to take the pens back.”

  “What the fuck are you guys doing to me? I did everything you asked me to do and now when I need you to support me, you’re telling me you have no record of my innocence.”

  “We did the best we could, Wil.” His voice sounded defensive.

  “Well, it’s obvious that your best isn’t good enough.”

  Norm jumped in to quell a possible confrontation between the two men. “Hold on now, both of you. All is not lost. Let’s go over everything again to see where we are.”

  They spent almost an hour going over what had transpired during the period of the investigation. Agent Hawkins took notes of the proceeding. Finally he said, “I know everything didn’t go as we expected, but with this documentation I have enough to go to my SAC and plead your case.”

  “You shouldn’t have to be pleading anything. I helped you guys out on the premise that you would be able to erase my record. I believed in you.” Tears began to well up in his eyes.

  “I never said anything was guaranteed. I said that my SAC would make a recommendation to the Justice Department on your behalf. I know it’s been done before, so I figured that with an operation this big, it would be a slam dunk, but I never guaranteed that they would do it for you. I want you to know that I’m doing everything in my power to help you.”

  “Well, it looks like your power ain’t worth shit. You bastards just used me.”

  Blain interjected, “Hold on now, Wil. Agent Hawkins didn’t say that all was lost. He’s asking you to keep the faith while he works with his boss. You’ve got nothing to lose by giving him a chance to do that.”

  “Yeah, right. Well, you both can go to hell.” He got up, tossed the pens on the table and left the office, slamming the door behind him. Seconds later they heard the second door slammed shut.

  Half in jest, Norm said, “Well, that went well.”

  “Damn it. This really sucks.”

  “What’s the problem, Byron?”

  “The problem is that we moved forward on the supposition that the Abbotts would only use Wilson for moving hash. When he carried heroine and meth into that house, he became an accessory. There’s no way to escape that. My SAC is keeping Wilson’s name out of the records of the raid. He refers to him as an UNSUB, in other words an unknown suspect, but he’s concerned that if he brings up the idea of the pardon for Wil’s previous offense and it becomes known that he was the courier, that Wilson may end up being charged.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. That sucks.”

  “I kid you not. The current thinking at Justice is to be tougher on hard drug offenders and more lenient on pot. No matter how you look at it, Wilson is now in the thick of it.”

  “I understand that from a technical viewpoint, but when someone gets involved with hard drugs only because he’s helping the FBI, shouldn’t that be disregarded?”

  “You would think so, but you could also argue the point that Wilson might have ended up carrying those drugs whether he was working for us or not. That’s something that we’ll never know.”

  Norm thought about that for a minute. “I guess you’re right. We’ll never know that for sure, but even though I didn’t get much of a chance to know him before you intervened, I have a gut feeling that he would have turned the Abbotts down when they approached him with their offer to work for them. If I recall correctly, he was in the process of doing that before you bribed him with the offer of exoneration for his youthful crimes. He’s a good kid, Byron, and he’s anxious to redeem himself to his family and society. It looks as if all we did was screw him over.”

  “Hold on, Norm. You know that wasn’t my intent. I’m on the kid’s side, for god’s sake.”

  “Well, it doesn’t look like that to me and I know Wil doesn’t see it that way either. There’s something wrong here. I’m getting the feeling that you haven’t told me everything.”

  “Give me a break, will you?”

  “Come on, Byron, out with it. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “What I’m talking about is that I have the distinct impression from the way you’re acting, that your boss and the Justice Department have already made up their minds about Wilson’s fate.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I told you and Wilson that I would present my report to my SAC and that we would appeal to Justice for a pardon.”

  “I know what you told me, but look me in the eye and tell me again that the decision hasn’t already been made.”

  Byron lowered his head. It took a couple of minutes for him to screw up the courage to reply. “Okay, you’re right. I pleaded with my SAC to reconsider, but he told me that his hands were tied. He said if I pushed this or tried to go over his head, he would have charges filed against Wilson for drug trafficking.” He looked at Norm with a helpless look on his face. “He thinks that keeping Wilson’s name out of the proceedings is thanks enough for his help. What can I do?”

  The PO showed disgust as he replied, “Do what you’re doing, of course. Continue to betray and lie to the person who trusted you to shoot straight with him.” He closed Wilson’s file and put it in the “out” box on his desk. “If that’s all, it’s been nice working with you, Special Agent Hawkins. Please let yourself out.”

  “Look, if it’s any consolation, I’ll talk to my boss again. I don’t like this anymore than you do, Norm. I know the kid deserves a break. Give me some time to work on it. This isn’t over yet.”

  “Whatever.”

  Chapter 42

  Rousch was the first
to arrive at The Diner on Main. He chose a booth at the rear of the room. He ordered coffee for two.

  Ron entered the diner ten minutes later and made his way to the booth. “What’s so all-fired important that you couldn’t tell me on the phone?”

  “Sit down, Doctor. You’re going to be shocked by what I’m about to tell you. You probably recall that as part of my investigation into Dr. Hazleton’s activities, we did a check of his known associates and recent business dealings. I just got a report from an associate. It turns out that your partner is not only having an affair, but is also doing business with a company called Treasured Things. Now, what’s special about this is that he visited their offices the day before the break-in at your center. He had a file with him when he went in, but not when he left.”

  “I don’t see what this has to do with anything. Someone at that place may be a patient and he may have been delivering a medical report.”

  “Wait, a minute, there’s more. It seems that Treasured Things, among other activities, deals in rare antiquities. As you probably know your Dr. Hazleton dabbles in antiquities as a hobby; a very expensive one, I might add. Anyway, several of the items missing from Hazleton’s office showed up in the showroom at Treasured Things. My man checked the items against a brochure from your Center and there they were, prominently displayed in a picture of Doctor Hazleton’s office.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything. He trades in antiquities. He may have sold them or traded them to the company. I don’t see what any of this has to do with anything.”

  “Well, think about it. Doesn’t it seem odd that items that were in Dr. Hazleton’s office on the day of the robbery mysteriously show up in a showroom? He didn’t list them as stolen, although they were prominent wall displays, so he either sold or traded them, knowing that the offices would be broken into, or he made deal with Treasured Things to mastermind the break-in of selected offices, using the antiquities as payment. That’s not the sort of thing we should overlook.”

  “So, what are you implying?”

  “I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you flat out that I believe Dr. Hazleton made an agreement with those people to break into your offices and these several items were given to them as payment.”

  “Why would he want our offices to be broken into? What could he possibly gain?”

  “Well, that’s where the motive probably lies. It turns out that Hazleton is short of cash; he’s overextended with the banks and some vendors, but thanks to the break-in, he’ll get a hefty insurance settlement. He stands to profit handsomely from the robbery. I might add that having a mistress on the side can be an expensive proposition.”

  Ron mulled this information over in his head for a few minutes. Finally, he said, “Now I understand why he didn’t appear to be too distraught about the break-in; apparently he had more to gain than to lose. What can we do with this information?”

  “Let me do a little more digging. When I have all the facts, I’ll meet with the insurance investigators and talk with a guy I know down at the Police Department. They’ll know the correct course of action to take. In the meantime I advise you to keep this to yourself. Don’t even tell Dr. Mickelson. It’s possible that more than one person from your Center is involved in this.”

  “Certainly you’re not suggesting that Peter is involved?”

  “I didn’t say that, but until we have a sound case, the fewer people that know about this, the better.”

  “Okay, mum’s the word, but I want you to know that I’m very uncomfortable with this whole situation. Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Well, for starters, keep your eyes open. Let me know right away if you notice anything out of the ordinary. Try not to let Dr. Hazelton suspect that you’re on to him. Under the circumstances, that may be hard to do, but give it your best shot.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I had some acting experience in high school. He won’t suspect a thing.”

  “Super.” Rousch downed the last of his coffee, tossed three dollars onto the table, and turned to leave. “This may be a good time to check out those pictures I gave you last time. There may be some relevance between the affair he’s having and his need to raise cash.”

  “That’s a good idea. I locked it up in my desk at the office. Could be that his femme fatale is the reason for his money problems. Maybe Don John is showering her with furs and diamonds that he can’t afford.”

  “That could be. Do you want me to assign my man again?”

  “That’s a good idea. Let’s find out how this woman fits into the equation.”

  Chapter 43

  Maggie drank a glass of wine as she waited for Jason to arrive. She thought about how different things were, now that Jason had set up an appointment for her to abort the fetus she was carrying.

  For one thing, she could drink all the wine that she wanted without fear of doing damage to the fetus. While she didn’t smoke or hadn’t taken any drugs in the last three weeks since discovery of her pregnancy, she knew she could if she wanted to. In short, life was going to go back to normal.

  She thought about how her mother and father would have reacted to the knowledge of her pregnancy and pending abortion. Marilyn would have had mixed feelings. Being maternal by nature, she would be on the side of Maggie’s keeping the baby. Being practical, she would approve of the abortion for the sake of the family’s reputation; what the family members, friends, and neighbors would think, in other words. In retrospect, Maggie was glad she had suppressed the desire to share her dilemma with her mother. Her father was another case entirely. Maggie had always felt close to her father, and up until now could never have ever conceived of any situation for which she couldn’t take her father into her confidence. She thought about that for a minute. Drugs, abortions, what depravities have I sunk to, when I can’t even discuss a problem with Daddy?

  When Jason arrived he went through the customary litany about the elevator not functioning. “I can’t believe that you and the other residents don’t complain about that elevator being out of service so long. I think that you and the other tenants should get together and have a rent strike. I’d bet that that would get them moving.”

  “What are you trying to do, get me evicted? Those kinds of things happen, you know. Lease or not, if they want you out, you’re out. I have more important things to be concerned about than walking up a few flights of stairs.”

  Jason looked at her with a look of surprise, “You call five flights a ‘few flights?'”

  “Oh, stop complaining. A stud like you shouldn’t have a problem with five flights of stairs. Look at it as exercise; good for your metabolism.”

  “I bet that if you had decided to carry that fetus to full term, you’d be singing a different song.”

  “Well, I’m not. What do you have to tell me about that?”

  “It’s all set up. I’ll tell you all about it after dinner.”

  “Always thinking about your stomach, aren’t you? That’s just as well, I have everything ready.”

  Maggie served spaghetti and meatballs with fresh everything, bread, and a romaine lettuce side salad.

  “What’s for dessert?”

  “Do you mind if we have dessert later? I’m anxious to hear about the operation.”

  “There isn’t a lot to tell. We’ll check you in as Ms. Otis around eight. The doctor that performs the operation will give you a brief exam to make sure there won’t be any complications.”

  She interrupted him, “Will you be able to be there with me?”

  “Not in the room itself. They were very specific about that. I have to wait in a recovery room where everyone who has gone through the procedure has to rest for at least two hours before leaving the clinic.”

  “I know I should know this stuff, but I never got involved with the abortive procedure at the hospital. Abortions there are very rare. Won’t they allow you to stay if I say it’s okay?”

  “I’m afraid not, Mag. There will be a female nurse in the op
erating room with you. She’ll assist the doctor during the procedure. All in all, we should be separated for only a half hour.”

  “That’s a half hour too long, under the circumstances.”

  “I know, and I wish I could be in there with you, but after it’s over, and we’ve waited the mandatory time, I’ll drive you back here and we’ll spend the night in each other’s arms. That’s about all I can tell you about it.”

  “Do you know if it will hurt?”

  “I’ve read that it’s better than childbirth.”

  “Well, you’re being real comforting.”

  “I’m just kidding. What I’ve read is that it sometimes feels like a menstrual cramp. They will give you a shot to ease the pain and some pain killers to take with you for the next twenty-four hours. After that you should feel normal.”

  “I’ll be so glad when this is all over. Promise me that you will always use protection in the future.”

  “Don’t worry; there are two things I’ve learned from this experience. The first is that I will never take hallucinogenic drugs again. Actually that’s an easy one. I don’t like being so out of control, anyway. The second thing is that I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Whatever I need to do to make that happen and to make you happy is what I will do. I promise you.” He took her face into his hands and kissed her gently. They hugged for several minutes. “Do you think it’s time for dessert yet?”

  “I don’t believe you. Is food the only thing you ever think about?”

  He looked at her with a lecherous grin. “Now, I think we both know that that’s not true.”

  Chapter 44

  Ron came home in the middle of the day. He was distraught over a number of issues and badly in need of a drink. He poured some scotch and water into a glass and downed it without the usual cubes of ice. He called out for Marilyn, but when there was no answer, he remembered that it was Wednesday, the day Marilyn went into town.