by Jerry Weber
At 11:10 a.m. Vic walks into Sam’s sumptuous offices. The building is an old brick five story affair that could be over one hundred years old. But once inside, things were very different. The lobby, halls and elevators are sleek stainless steel trimmed with wood accents. The floors are marble and silver chandeliers dot the ceilings. Expensively dressed fine looking ladies with their high heels clicking on the Italian marble saunter through the halls with the other visitors. Victor thought these must be the secretaries and paralegals, at any rate he was duly impressed.
Stepping off the elevator at the fifth floor, the decor was even more luxurious with Sam’s office suite in the north corner of the building. Upon entering, a receptionist who could be considered a “ten” greeted Vic and said Sam would be out in a minute. The office suite is done in cherry wood with dark green accents on the walls and a woolen Berber carpet graces the floor. Vic thought what a far cry from his lawyer Steve Lamont’s spartan quarters back in Duryea. Sam is no $100 an hour lawyer like Steve.
“Victor my friend, it’s so good to see you in New York.” He guides Vic into his palatial corner office with the great view of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Sam gestures for Vic to take a leather arm chair in front of his teak, gold inlaid desk, and then takes his place facing Vic.
“This is like out of the movies Sam.”
“I guess I don’t appreciate it as much as I see it every day; by the way how was the trip?”
“I enjoyed the ride and traffic was light, I can’t get over your beautiful digs here, but all of that being said, I can’t feel good about my position as to why I’m here.”
“Perhaps we can solve some of your pressing problems today then go out and celebrate.”
“I appreciate the thought Sam, but after my episode earlier in the year down in Bucks County, I won’t be doing any drinking today.”
“Okay, but we can still do some great food later.”
Vic opens the conversation and gets right to the point. “Look Sam, I missed the monthly payment for the retort lease, and I don’t have the $3,000 I own my father this month. That’s why I asked for a little more cash up front.”
“I don’t want to make a bad situation worse Vic, but if you read page sixteen in your loan documents, you owe a payment to my associates on the $25,000 they loaned you. With the five year amortization and 15% APR interest, you owe another $800 for your start-up loan times two months, that’s another $1,600 you need to come up with.”
“Wow, I forgot about that, I guess that makes bankruptcy inevitable for me.”
“Not so fast Vic, bankruptcy is an escape for some, but might not work in your case.”
“What do you mean by that, I read about people declaring chapter 11 or whatever you lawyers call it every day.”
“Look Vic, here are the facts; the retort lease was cosigned by my venture capitalist associates. When you add that $50,000 they will be liable for if the retort lease is terminated prematurely, they are on the hook for $75,000.”
“Oh shit, I’ll never get that much money together in one place to ever pay it back.”
“Right, and bankruptcy won’t solve it for you because you don’t own any of the real estate in Duryea.”
“There is very little my associates could get back in a bankruptcy proceeding.”
“Okay, so what else is there, you seemed to have closed the door on the only option people have in my situation.”
“Well here is where it gets a little … shall we say dicey Vic, see my friends here in the City are having a problem that you are the only one they can turn to for help. If you would help them out, they would not only forgive all of the debt you owe them, but they would reward you generously for your services.”
Vic doesn’t know what is coming next, but he is smart enough to know it will not be something he ever thought of while driving down here. He starts to squirm in his chair and for the first time feels really uncomfortable. Vic regains his composure and retorts, “What do they need done by me in Pennsylvania that they can’t get done right here in New York?”
“They need a sort of specialized disposal service Vic.”
“A disposal service?”
“Yes, they need your crematory retort to make some things go away for them.”
“Again I am at a loss why can’t they get the same services without all of the hauling expense to Pennsylvania right here in New York?”
“Victor, I’m afraid I just have to be direct here; they need a few dead bodies to disappear every year.”
“What? Are you crazy man? You mean cremate some bodies which are evidence that the mafia or underworld wants to dispose of?”
“You make it sound so sinister Vic; look, there are no cameras or counters on your retort. When you push the buttons some gas and electricity gets used but there is no record of that cycle anywhere. There is no trace except for the two pounds or so of remains that the operation ever took place. Poof, the body and all evidence of it disappear forever.”
“No way man, I need a cremation permit from some state agency for each cremation that I perform, that gives me legal permission to do it.”
“See Vic, you said it yourself, a small eight by eleven inch piece of paper is all that is coming between you and the solution to all of your problems.”
“Yeh, but that little piece of paper means breaking the law and jail time for me the operator.”
“Getting caught would be highly unlikely Vic, but the problem for me is in your case I can’t talk these investors into anything else. They don’t need anything else and you don’t have anything to give them anyway; they just need a few already dead bodies to disappear Vic. You don’t have to know who they are or where they came from or anything about them. You simply push the buttons, drop the remains in the Lackawanna River and get paid.”
“How much would they pay me for a criminal act like that?”
“My friends have informed me that they would forgive all of the start-up costs and pay you $10,000 a case going forward.”
“$10,000 a case, are you kidding me man?”
“My associates don’t kid about business decisions of this gravity Vic.”
“Well Sam, I have to go home and sleep on it, this is a momentous decision for me; this is far outside of anything I ever dreamed about in my entire life.”
“Vic, I wish there was the luxury of time for you, but I need an answer now.”
“Well then, I guess it’s going to have to be a no Sam, but thanks for all of the help.”
“No Vic, we can’t end it just like that, it would be easy for you, but not for me to face my associates, so I propose we do the ‘Ben Franklin’ close on this matter. That is we take a piece of paper,” Sam tears off a sheet from a notepad and writes on the top reasons for and against, and draws a line down the center.
“See, we will now list all of the reasons for and against my proposal, whichever side comes out with the best reasons, is the side you do, okay?”
“Yah, on one side I get money until I go to jail.”
“No Vic, on one side you remain a trusted businessman keeping up with all of his obligations in the community. Plus you are living a lifestyle far better than you enjoy now.”
“On the other side,” Sam points to the pad’s right side, “You are a disgraced former funeral director with a target on his and his families back.”
“What target Sam?”
“Vic I told you your insolvency leaves my associates out $75,000 with no place to collect it except from you personally or maybe your parents.”
“No way man; you can’t threaten my parents, they have nothing to do with any of this.” I’m just saying Vic, how else can these investors get their money back?”
“Wow, I may need police protection and soon.”
“Wait Vic, who are you going to be protected from? There are no notes or threats recorded on your life, or people waiting outside your door to get you. Do you really think the police are going to protect you forever
on some flimsy hearsay evidence? The answer is that even in Duryea, they aren’t going to devote two of their four man police force watching you. I mean Vic, you are in no immediate danger, but you can never tell a month or even a year down the road what could happen.”
“Geeze, I can’t believe I am having this conversation with you Sam.”
“Vic if it was just me, I would let bygones be bygones, I would say, the guy tried his best let’s forget about it.”
“What friends you have Sam, I am just realizing who you really represent.”
“Vic, I guess we are all disappointed at how this worked out, but you have to make a decision here. Go home and call me by the end of the week as to where you stand. Longer than that, and I just may not be able to control things at this end.”
“Sam, I’ll take a raincheck on dinner, I’m not hungry right now, but you will hear from me, I promise.” Vic leaves Sam’s office with a new emotion; fear. This one seems to top the ones of lethargy and despondency.
CHAPTER 19
Fight or Flight
Vic is back on Route 80, heading west towards Pennsylvania. As you approach the Delaware Water Gap from this direction the terrain becomes very rugged with towering rock cliffs that had to be blasted through to make the openings for the highway. As he sullenly and robotically guides his car along over the pavement, Vic’s mind races on to alternative courses of action. He sees the one hundred foot rock ledge fifty feet to his right. He thinks, ‘what if I just let the car drift into the granite, it would all be over in a flash. But then an even scarier scene enters his muddled brain. He is not dead, but in an ICU unit of a local hospital after the crash. Hovering over him lying helplessly with all kinds of restraints on is a dark shadowy figure standing on the oxygen line hooked to Vic’s nose. There is no escape from Sam’s organization. Vic is choking and gasping for air and ready to black out when reality returns.
With his mind wandering wildly, he now goes back to the first scene where he is dead underneath the wreckage of his car after hitting the rock ledge. However, now the same dark figure is hovering over his sleeping parents in Florida with a knife. Again Vic feels if they can’t recover the money from him they will move to the next closest members of his family. What about his sister, could they track her and her family down? By the time Vic is safely back in Duryea he is mentally and physically exhausted from the day’s happenings and all those weird thoughts he was entertaining on the road.
The next morning Vic gets up at 11:00 a.m. and still feels exhausted. It takes him but a minute to relive the events of yesterday and all of his other problems putting him back into a horrible mood. Vic gets dressed and heads for the local coffee shop. Here at the counter he spies an old friend of his father, Charley Heckman. Charley was chief of police here in Duryea for thirty years until his retirement some ten years ago. Vic moves over closer to Charley to initiate a conversation.
“Charley, how are you, my father often asks about you?”
“Oh it’s Vic, very good after all who wants to hear old people complain anyway?”
“Charley let me pose a hypothetical question to you. If a local citizen is being threatened by someone from out of the area, and they wanted to get some protection, how would they go about it?”
“I hope this isn’t about you or your family Vic.”
“No, no, but I had a widow that I was arranging a funeral for and her daughter was in this predicament up in Eynon.”
“Well Vic, she can go to the local police up there, but she is going to need some particulars for them to even look into it.”
“What kind of particulars Charlie?”
“The police will need names, places, dates, and a description of the incident, even with all of that, unless a crime has already been committed, they can’t do a whole lot. There are just not the resources anywhere to station guards around her daughter and her home. There would have to be some type of local threat occurring that they could respond to, otherwise they are chasing ghosts.”
“Ghosts, maybe that’s what my client’s daughter is chasing after all, well thanks Charley for the info, if she calls back, I can tell her what you told me.”
So Sam is exactly right thought Vic, what police department: local, state or federal can hang around waiting for something to happen. They will certainly investigate if Vic is found dead in his home or on the street, but by then the horse has sort of left the proverbial barn. This idea of coming clean to the police is receding further and further into the background.
The next thought of ignoring Sam in New York was entertained as in normal times this would be Vic’s default position on any crisis; do nothing. But even Vic knows that this time he is in too deep to just ignore the problem. What about just leaving everything behind and starting a new life somewhere, anywhere else? This initially sounds like a good plan. You fill the car with gas, throw some clothes in the trunk and vamoose.
But, there is a reality check with this idea also. First, Vic is almost out of funds in the bank and his credit cards are almost completely maxed out. If he just gets a couple hundred miles away and runs out of money, who do you turn to? If you start working somewhere under your own name, you are exposed to being found. This would be especially true after Vic’s family and friends file police reports that something suspicious happened to him, as he is inexplicably gone. There would be locator requests sent out all over the country by the local authorities looking for him.
Finally, if he changed his identity, he would need resources to get that accomplished. Probably the only employer who wouldn’t want to see valid ID for a job would be a migrant farm labor contractor. So, running is not what it initially seems and it would likely be just temporary. Worse, the mob could locate him out of town first and that would be curtains. Just when Vic couldn’t be any more walled in by his circumstances the second blow falls.
The next day, Vic’s father unexpectedly called at 10:00 a.m. arousing Vic from a deep sleep. “Vic, as you already know the check for this month’s rent never appeared, and I am damned tired of pulling teeth to get what is owed to me. It should come as no surprise to me Vic, because more than a couple of friends have called us from Duryea telling us how badly things were going up there with the funeral home. It is time for tough love Vic, I am issuing you an ultimatum, if I don’t see the money in two days, I will get on a plane and evict you from the premises. Then, I will sell what is left of the business and the property.
By the way, they tell me you now have a crematory in the garage. I guess I now know where my rent money is, in some fool project of yours. Well the days of playing with my money are over Vic. I hope this brings you to your senses; know that I will wait until the end of the week, two more days, that’s it, so long.” Click. Just as well he hung up on me, as I have no money or answers for him that he is going to like, thought Vic.
Now Vic has heat coming from two stereo channels New York and Florida at the same time. Sam didn’t know how perfect the timing of Vic’s father was for his purposes, but it was the final straw that forced Vic into action.
“Sam, it’s me Vic. Look, maybe I was a little hasty about walking out on you last week.”
“Vic, you were under stress and I fully understand how startled you were by my proposal. I just hope that these couple of days gave you time to come to the right decision.”
“Oh it has Sam, but before we can begin with your deal, I will need a quick $10,000 advance to keep going. Otherwise there won’t be a business left here for your associates to make use of.”
“Vic, you will have the $10,000 wired to your account today, as far as proceeding on the other matter, I will be in touch later.”
“Thanks Sam, I know this will work out for the both of us.”
Sam puts the phone in its cradle and breathes a sigh of relief. All of the planning and time spent is going to finally pay off. Sam will be the star of the next meeting with the organization.
CHAPTER 20
Under the Spell of the Mob
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After two weeks, Vic was feeling a lot better with his financial reprieve which allowed things to calm down in Duryea. But, when you make a pact with the devil it is certain that he will be back to collect his part of the bargain. A simple ring of the phone was about to change Vic’s life forever.
“Hello Vic, it’s me Sam, seems like it is time for you to honor your part of our deal.”
“Okay Sam, I was wondering when you would be calling me. What can I help with?”
“First, you need to come back to New York and we’ll give you the necessary instructions for the mission.”
“When Sam?”
“How about tomorrow afternoon Vic”
A lump rose in Vic’s throat, but he knew there is no turning back now,
“I’ll be there tomorrow at 2:00 p.m. Sam.”
“Okay, see you then.”
Vic is sitting in Sam’s conference room, an even more exotic room than his office. Inlaid marble floors, a huge mahogany conference table, and modern paintings adorn the walls. Not to mention the view of the bridge. With Sam is a smaller older rough-around-the-edges kinda guy who looks like he is stuffed into his suit. Sam introduces Vinnie as the go between for Vic in this operation. Vinnie does not disappoint in his portrayal of a TV type mob character complete with a Brooklyn accent.
“Pleezed ta meet witcha Vic,” says Vinnie.
“Same here Vinnie,” Vic replies finding these types of characters actually exist in real life incredible.
“Okay, Sam says, now that the formalities are over, we talk about procedures going forward. First, Vic you will always have your cell with you. A black van with a “package” will depart New York whenever there is a need. Vinnie will call you at this time to alert you. When the van reaches Route 81 near Scranton which should take little over two hours, you will get a call with the code word “Rubik.” If everything is alright at your end, you will answer “Cube.” You don’t have to say another word. You will then go to the garage, leave the lights off and open the overhead door. When the van enters, you will immediately close the door. Vinnie, the driver, will help you unload the package and place it into the retort. He will leave you with an envelope containing $10,000 at this time. Vic is to ask no questions of Vinnie who will then leave Vic alone.