If all went well, and there was no reason to suspect it wouldn’t, the men would be in and out in less than an hour. They were looking for Madson’s trophies and physical evidence from past crimes they knew were stored safely somewhere within the residence either in a safe or secure cabinet. That they had kept this evidence around was a testament to their immense depravity as well as their equally immense arrogance and stupidity.
Each had access to the site that stored the photos, and video of their crimes online but, in addition, the four liked to gather at Madson’s place and show home movies. Occasionally they would top off their evening with ladies brought in especially for the ‘after party’. These ladies were local and reasonably safe. The targets of their numerous killing sprees were young girls bought like cattle in flesh markets around the United States by specialized procurers.
The three men approached the garage entrance, each with a back pack, one holding a video camera and portable tripod. Tonight, the four friends planning the death and sexual assault of Alana McCarthy would be the subject of their own documentary film. One copy would be securely transmitted to Barrows Bay, while the other copies would be sent to law enforcement. It would contain the physical evidence the intruders collected along with the taped confession of the four criminals.
Each of the three men in dark clothing carried 9 mm unregistered, untraceable weapons with silencers. They also carried weapons in ankle holsters, just in case something went terribly, terribly wrong. Additional clips were in zippered pockets of their light jackets.
The three men entered the spacious living room area where the four conspirators were arguing loudly.
Adam shouted, “Don’t move and get down on the ground. This is a robbery. Just do as you are told, and you’ll get out of this situation with your lives intact. If not, you are dead. Now move!”
Edward moved swiftly and silently, his gun aimed directly at Madson, to draw the drapes of the massive picture window. Once accomplished, he eased over to where Carlos had removed plastic ties from his back pack. Each of the four men were securely bound, hands behind their backs, down on their knees, and feet likewise bound at the ankles. They couldn’t move and were lined up in a row looking not dissimilar to the stone statues on Easter Island.
Adam spoke when all four were immobile.
“You men have been very naughty boys, haven’t you? Your day of reckoning is now upon you, but before we get to that, I need your cooperation. Nod if you understand what I’m saying.”
All four nodded. They weren’t gagged; there was no need. Shouting, screaming, and begging couldn’t be heard by anyone outside, and the four knew it.
“OK then. Now I know you have squirreled away some photos and videos somewhere in this house, probably right here in the living room. Where might those items be? Anyone?”
Madson spoke up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What photos, what videos? Why don’t you just get to robbing us and get on with it. I’ll tell you where I keep my cash and valuables. You can have it all.”
Adam said, “Now, now Mr. Madson, I don’t think you’re being candid with me. Every time one of you is caught in a lie, there will be punishment. Let me explain the procedure.”
The nervous terror in the eyes of the other three men was palpable. Their fear hung like a thick dense fog, permeating every corner of the room. While Adam began his chat with the men, Carlos was busy setting up the video camera and tripod. At his signal, the camera whirred to life, a red-light indicator glowing in the dim living room light indicating ‘recording’. “We’re taping,” was all he said. He then picked up his handgun, taking up position in front of the four bound men, awaiting instructions from Adam.
“Now, here’s the deal. You’re going to tell me where the safe is that’s holding the materials I’m looking for. If you don’t, we three are going to draw straws to see who gets to shoot one of you first. The plan is simple, and this is going to be good old-fashioned torture. Now you may be thinking that torture doesn’t work as an interrogation method and you would be correct in most political circumstance. Not today, however. If you lie, I will shoot you somewhere on your body, then I’m going to kill you slowly. For reference, I’m going to start with your feet and bony parts, carefully avoiding any of the major arteries. Wouldn’t want you bleeding out too quickly. Understand?”
“Fuck you,” said Madson. “I’m going to fuck you up when I get free. You’re all dead men.”
“Point taken,” said Adam. “Now, gents, where is that safe?”
The four men said nothing, stoically facing their captors, minds whirring, trying to decide what to do. At this point in the evening, all four were still quite certain they would come out of this alive. Adam wanted to foster that belief, but he could see the men needed persuasion.
“I’m told that the foot is a part of the body comprised of many small bones. I’m also told it is quite painful to be shot there. Who’d like to be part of my science experiment? Let’s begin with you, Mr. Madson.”
Adam came over to Madson and pushed him over. He then took two shots, one at the ankle, and one at the bridge of the foot. Madson howled in pain.
“We’re going to move over to the other foot, then up to the kneecaps. If you want to come out of this alive, and flee the country, then you’ll have to speak up. Now, where is the safe?”
Madson said nothing, but one of the other three did. He still harbored the illusion that he was going to make it out alive. Of course, that was delusional, but he had no way of knowing the truth just then.
“It’s behind the tall shelf. It’s hinged. Swing it out and you’ll see a secure and locked file cabinet. It’s there. Just don’t kill us. I’m cooperating. Just don’t shoot.”
Through his pain and bleeding, Madson was enraged. “You idiot, they’re going to kill us anyway. You just sealed our fates. You fucking coward!”
Edward felt along the back of the faux shelf for a latch, which he located quickly. The tall shelf swung away, revealing a locked set of cabinet drawers with a single lock in the middle. Edward took a small high-speed cordless power drill out of his back pack and drilled the lock. The cabinet drawers were then pulled out one by one and gave up their contents. Each drawer contained individual files of communications and photographic evidence, along with CDs containing video, of the many crimes committed by this gang of four.
There were dozens, including one Labeled “Alana M”.
Edward grabbed that file and stuffed it in his backpack. Barely twenty minutes had elapsed since entering the home; they had about twenty minutes more before they had to move on.
The confessions they extracted from three of the men came quickly; only Madson refused to talk and admit anything.
Adam calmly walked over to Madson and said, “Time’s up.”
He put two bullets in his head, then changed clips. Carlos gathered up the expended shell casings, counting them carefully, and placing them conscientiously in his backpack.
The remaining three were now in full horror, probably contemplating exactly what their victims had felt before the men squeezed the life out of the women they had assaulted, beaten, raped and murdered.
Adam said, “This isn’t the movies, and you aren’t the good guys. Nobody is coming to your rescue.”
He calmly walked over to the three and put two bullets in the head of each.
The three looked over the living room one last time, looking for any hidden electronics that could have recorded their presence that evening. They swept the living room electronically one more time and, when satisfied, called the men in the van, put their camera gear, and tripod away and departed.
Adam left a note for the police about what they would find in the cabinet. He also gave them the IP address on the dark web where they could find the rest of the evidence of the crimes these four had committed over the many years.
They calmly exited the home, climbed into the van, and left to pick up Edmund. Th
ey were then driven to the little municipal airport in the San Luis Rey Valley, where they boarded the jet on which they had arrived, already fueled and ready to depart. Three hours later they landed at a remote private airstrip just north of Seattle.
Adam photographed the contents of Alana’s file, then set fire to it. He sent the data to himself in Barrows Bay via secure pathway.
Alana restored the security to the residence and surrounding homes after the men left. All evidence that the three men had ever been anywhere near San Diego, or had any connection to the Madson Group, was either destroyed or simply vanished. They had considered setting fire to Madson’s home but, pondered the potential for harm to the surrounding homes and residents. They had also considered disposing of the dead bodies at sea but elected not to go to all the trouble. Someone might notice someone, or the activity and that precaution, though considered, was deemed unnecessary. Carlos called his friend the commercial fisherman who waited on standby and told him to go home. They were now square.
An email from a foreign server notified the SDPD that there were four dead bodies, and a whole bunch of documentary, and other evidence at a residence in La Jolla. The email provided a La Jolla address. The evidence would clearly implicate Christopher Madson, and his three college friends in the deaths of numerous missing women. The email gave the IP address for a site on the dark web with further digital evidence.
They also gave the police the location of a lodge in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
The police found proof of the activities of not only of Madson the son but Madson the father too. The assets of the families were frozen pending the outcome of the investigation which took a great while to complete. Over three hundred million dollars was eventually distributed to the families of the deceased women, and the grisly murder of the four serial killers became the fertile fodder of local tabloids for many years to come.
Carlos returned home to his condo in Blaine, Washington.
Edward returned to his home with Bethy, smoked a bowl and slept a good long while.
Edmund returned to his residence at the Institute and reflected on what he had done. He was uneasy, but poured himself three fingers of century old scotch, then drifted off to sleep.
Adam returned to his home to the waiting arms of Noki and Alana.
Misti was gone, and the girls couldn’t tell him where, given that they didn’t know. Misti wasn’t answering her phone and didn’t return any of their phone calls.
Adam would catch some sleep and go after his wife in the morning. He knew where she would be and would face her alone. He hoped their marriage was still intact but wasn’t willing to bet any money on it.
He hoped he would find her alone, but he was unsure of that too. It was difficult for Adam to predict how Misti would choose to express her displeasure with him, Alana, and the rest of the family. He would bear the consequences of his actions like a grown man and face the wrath of his petite wife alone.
To Alana the next morning he said, “You’re finally free. This entire nightmare is over. We can get back to work after I deal with Misti.”
She kissed him and thanked him, then returned to her room. She slept soundly for the rest of the day.
He kissed Noki on the forehead while she slept, took a shower, and dressed, then drove to Seattle to the home overlooking the Bay in the Queen Anne District.
Misti answered the door and let him in.
Then all hell broke loose.
Chapter 52
Misti was furious and had no problem expressing herself to her husband. She seemed calm, but Adam recognized that demeanor and tone of voice. He could only describe it as cold fury.
She began, “I want you to understand something, Adam. Something you need to take to heart. I love you. You are my soul mate, whatever the fuck that means now, under the circumstances. There is nothing, almost nothing I don’t relish, and adore about you. But if you ever and I mean ever, pull a stunt like this again, I will leave you. I will leave and never look back. This was a betrayal, an embarrassment, and a fucking humiliation I don’t need, and you should never even have contemplated. If this fucking paternalism ever surfaces in this way again, you’ll be replaced by the nearest young man I can find to show a good time. Then I’ll send you the photos and take you for every penny I can dislodge from your fucking family trust. That goes for the rest of the family too. Edward, and all your clan are all on my shit list and you can relay a message to Maria for me. ‘Fuck you, bitch’. I don’t care if she’s your Mom or the fucking Queen of Sheba. I’ll never trust her again.”
Adam calmly and unemotionally said, “I’ll pass on the good news.”
Misti continued, “Make sure that you do. I’ll follow up myself to make sure she understands my true feelings. Apparently, nothing has changed from the good old days, and she’s blaming me for all the changes in our living arrangements. And she’s been a total bitch to both Noki and Alana.”
“I heard. Sorry, but you know she isn’t listening to me anymore. If it’s any consolation, I doubt she blames you. I think she blames me and can’t bring herself to say it aloud.”
“Don’t care, Adam. She’s no longer my problem, she’s yours.”
“OK.”
“Next, we leave for London as soon as possible. My level of comfort at Barrows Bay is now zero. I don’t intend to return there until we are ready to go back to the Manor.”
“Misti, don’t you think that’s a little overkill? Everyone wants you back home and Alana misses you. She’s devastated that you’re so angry with her. She only did what we asked. She got a lot of pressure from Edward and her Dad. Please don’t take it out on her. If you must know, this was all my idea. I’m the only one you should be mad at. Even Dad thought I was wrong not to include you.”
“And yet, even if that was in the realm of possibility, which we both know it isn’t, the cabal would’ve been able to out vote you and change your mind. But that wasn’t what happened was it? If you want me back in your life, we need to get a move on. Hannah says that the Manor building project is almost finished and there is more than enough room in the old building for all of us who’re moving to be comfortable. And by all of us I mean only three of us. When the next building is complete, which should be in the next couple of weeks, Mark, Julia and the girls can come out for a visit. Rod and Cindy want to come along and see the place. No fucking excuses or it’ll be a great long while before I see you again. Am I being clear?”
“You are.”
“Any questions?”
“None.”
“Do you agree to each and everything I have said today? There is no room for negotiation; just say yes or leave.”
“Of course, I agree. But if it matters to you at all, I am sorry for how this all turned out. But I do not apologize for the decision I made. I have told you my story, and what I believe is the reason for all the events that have happened. I will never do this to you again. I will never need to. I promise.”
“You do understand the complete and utter hypocrisy of you, your Mom and the rest of your asshole family in Barrows Bay. You who told me how often you were kept in the dark, how family secrets were poison and toxic; how my coming along has helped heal this massive festering sore on the family St. James. Now you do this. If God himself came down tonight from Heaven, and told me he commanded this of you, and assuming even that your own mother believed it, which she doesn’t, I wouldn’t give a flying fuck. You are my husband, you knew how irritate and crazy I would be, yet you did it anyway. Isn’t that right?”
“It is.”
“Anything to add?”
“I love you and I’m sorry. It will never happen again. Like I said, I promise.”
“Then leave. Go back to Barrows fucking Bay and collect me when you are ready to go back to London. Until then, tell everyone I have no desire for any communication with any of them which especially includes your Dad.”
“What about your own father?”
“I’ll deal with him in my own way and you will not, I repeat not interfere. And one more thing. If I get one single phone call from anyone down here in the Eight Families, I’ll file for divorce within days. Test me, or think you have any equity with me, and you’ll find out quicker than a New York second that you are wrong. I hope we are clear.”
“Crystal.”
Adam wasn’t disappointed by the encounter, and if he had thought much about it much, he would have concluded it had gone just about as well as it could. If Misti had really been insanely angry, she wouldn’t have let him in. He surmised she was anxious to return to London for whatever reason, known only to her. He also suspected she would be in contact with Edward, and with whoever else she was going to extract favors from. Misti had performed as well as anyone could who wasn’t a professional actress. That she truly was angry with Adam and the rest of the ‘cabal’ was no act. But her mind would eventually return to normal; even she knew that too.
Adam understood his wife and in ways she didn’t even consider him capable. Like so many before her, Misti didn’t fully comprehend the depths and nuances of Adam’s personality, and his intuitive capacity. At times, even his family thought he was just an automaton, incapable of the normal range of emotions and human capabilities.
They were wrong. So was Misti.
“Then leave.”
“What are your plans?”
“Why do you ask? Worried about something?” Misti’s tone was both harsh and sarcastic.
“I am. But, just in case, my advice is don’t. I love you too, but if you do what I know you’re thinking, I’ll kick you to the curb. If you have already, ditto. Have you?”
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