“Obviously you felt there was no other choice.”
“Yup. It was either walk away empty-handed or at least know the truth, but do nothing about it. And I can’t not know the truth.”
Karla nodded. “I get it. So what had happened between Clemens and Russo?”
“Clemens was following the book with Russo for about the first six months of the deal, then Russo put the gears to him. Or to his daughter, I should say.”
I stopped, not sure whether it was appropriate to tell this part to a female.
“I can handle it, Chase,” Karla said. “I’m a big girl.”
“Okay, fine,” I said. “Russo got a couple of his thugs to go after Clemens’ eldest girl. She was twenty-two and finishing up college. These guys tailed her home late one night when she was leaving the library. They hauled her into a car and took her to an undisclosed location. Stripped her naked, tied her, beat her up, took it right to the verge of raping her, then they stopped. The punks recorded the whole incident, with the daughter screaming for daddy and all, then they sent the video to Clemens’ cellphone, with the message that if Clemens didn’t agree to Russo’s terms, or if he went to the authorities, next time the thugs would finish the rape, kill the daughter, and dump the body in Long Beach harbor.”
Karla pushed out a breath. “The man is evil.”
“It gets worse.”
“How could it possibly?”
I took a breath, then launched into it. “Naturally Clemens freaked out about the situation. Didn’t know exactly what to do. He knew Russo had the mafia in his back pocket and could call on them anytime. Anyway, when Russo approached him with the deal to house these extra criminals, Clemens didn’t respond in the affirmative right away. He was too concerned about the welfare of his daughter and how to handle the situation. Like should he go to the authorities, knowing his family would likely spend the rest of their lives in WITSEC, looking over their shoulders.” I paused. “I guess Clemens spent too much time thinking because, two days later, the thugs grabbed his wife on her way home from the grocery store. In the middle of the day, mind you. They did the exact same thing to her, then sent the video to Clemens with the message that he had an hour to decide or his wife would be raped and killed. Of course, he agreed to the terms.”
Karla shook her head. “This is horrible. And Clemens never told anyone?”
I nodded. “Most men will do anything to protect their family, and Clemens was no different. He knew how powerful and evil Russo was. Clemens didn’t feel like his family would be totally safe in WITSEC. Russo had the means to get to anyone, and he knew that first-hand. So Clemens agreed to the scam, but wanted no part in the money. Things ran to Russo’s plan for a while. But then, eventually, Clemens cracked.”
“He cracked? What happened?”
“Pico Rivera happened. That’s when Clemens couldn’t live with himself or the situation any longer. Knowing he had played a major part in a child rape and abduction sent him over the edge. He told me he was willing to die to uncover the Russo scam. Except he knew that Russo would punish his family, not him, so he had to think of a way to discreetly reveal what had been going on.”
“Makes sense.”
“Right. So when Pico went down, Clemens, instead of giving the authorities the forged transfer paperwork, he gave them the original paperwork. He knew that would trigger an investigation as to why the rapist was living in California and not Iowa. Clemens knew that it was more than likely the whole Russo scam would be revealed by this detail. Which is exactly what eventually happened.”
Karla eyed me. “Wasn’t he afraid of Russo retaliating?”
“He was, but Clemens told me that Russo really had no idea how Clemens was managing the paperwork and books. Russo didn’t know that Clemens could have simply provided the false transfer paperwork and everything would have been fine.”
“That’s risky.”
“Yup,” I said. “And Clemens knew that, but it was a risk he was willing to take because he couldn’t live with the deal any longer. While everything was going down, Clemens consulted with a lawyer to get an idea of how much jail time he would be facing. He found out it would be somewhere in the ball park of ten years, but with good behavior he could potentially be out in five. He figured five years of hard time would be better than living in fear for the rest of his life. So Clemens convinced Russo that he had nothing to do with helping the feds and, to prove it, he would take the fall and do the time, provided his family was safe. Russo agreed and said that if Clemens talked and broke his promise, his whole family was dead. Clemens knew that, with Russo’s ties, Russo could make that happen no matter if Russo was in jail or in a different country.”
Karla tapped my knee. “That’s why Russo had the balls to negotiate with you and the feds. Right? He knew Clemens was never going to give him up.”
“Exactly. So that’s why I said this situation was tricky. It’s not such a cut and dried government conspiracy. Russo was really pulling the strings and responsible for almost everything. I guess Clemens should have gone straight to the authorities. But if he did, I wouldn’t have been surprised if some or all of his family died. It’s a tough ethical dilemma.”
“It is. And I guess you didn’t follow through with your promise to Clemens.” Karla smiled. “You didn’t drop everything, did you?”
I raised my eyebrows. “I guess I didn’t. I’m not proud of how I handled things.”
“So tell me how the next part of the story went down.”
“I wish I could take it back. It’s not flattering.”
“I can take it.”
I sat back and looked out the windshield. “Once I knew the truth, I couldn’t let it go. I knew we couldn’t take Russo down on legal matters because Clemens wouldn’t cooperate, out of fear. But I just couldn’t let Russo get away without some sort of punishment. It goes against everything inside me. I couldn’t live knowing Russo basically got off and Clemens was the fall guy doing hard prison time. So, yes, I broke my promise to Clemens, but I imagine he’s okay with it.”
“How’d you get Russo alone?”
“I knew he had this late-night ice cream obsession. Once a week, like clockwork, Russo would head down to the local creamery. The creamery was on a busy main street, so Russo’s driver had to drop him off about a block away, in a parking lot behind the main street. Since Russo always went right before closing, which was around one in the morning, I knew the parking lot was pretty much deserted. When they pulled into to the lot that night, I ran over to the car with a balaclava and gloves on and knocked out the driver. Then I climbed in the back and knocked out Russo.
“I drove to his Motel 7 billboard, the one right off the 605 freeway in Pico Rivera. I threw Russo over my shoulder and climbed the rungs to the top of the billboard. There’s a narrow platform up there. Once we were up top, I smacked him around until he woke up. Then I politely grabbed him by the ankles and dangled him over the ledge.”
Karla grabbed my knee. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope,” I said, smiling. “I dangled him there for quite a while. Sometimes I used just one arm, you know, to conserve energy and give my other arm a rest. I swear Russo screamed louder than a middle-aged woman at a Rod Stewart concert. We were so high up nobody could hear. I also stressed to Russo that I was acting alone. I wanted to make sure there were no ramifications for Clemens’ family. Anyway, once Russo lost his voice, I told him I’d let him live if he agreed to a few things.”
“What things?”
“An anonymous donation to the Pico Rivera school, enough to build a whole new state of the art facility, and a million-dollar anonymous donation to the Clemens family. Of course, he agreed to everything. But who wouldn’t, right? Hanging upside down over the freeway like that. So I pulled him up onto the platform and enforced everything again with my fists. I’d brought a flashlight to shine in his face when I was talking to him, in the hope that he wouldn’t recognize my eyes. Not sure if that worked or not.”
“It’s my understanding that he had to have facial reconstruction. Is that true?”
“I don’t know – there’s some speculation over that part of the story. The reconstruction could be so people don’t recognize him, can’t be sure. Anyway, I thought I was done after the facial beating, but something inside me wouldn’t let me finish. I didn’t think he’d come through on the anonymous donation deal, so I couldn’t let him off so easily. It boiled me inside that he suffered no repercussions; no prison time and no huge public outcry about how evil he was. The guy wasn’t even out of money.”
Karla nodded excitedly. “So what did you do?”
I paused and looked away. “To make a long story short, I stripped him naked and hog-tied his ankles to his hands with his own necktie. Then I shoved the flashlight between his upper legs where his thighs meet his butt cheeks and left it there. With the bulb end shining right on his billboard.”
I looked at Karla. She had no reaction. All she said was: “I’m assuming the flashlight was a Maglite.”
I nodded. “Indeed it was, the big one with four size D batteries. Hence the nickname, ‘Mag’. For the record, Pepperstein and Labonte have no proof that I was involved. Obviously, I’d be in a lot of trouble if anyone could prove it was me. Anyway, I left Russo on the billboard catwalk to contemplate his life choices. Honestly, I didn’t know Russo would be so visible when the sun came up. I didn’t know the freeway would back up like it did.”
“Four hours,” Karla said, smiling. “If I remember correctly, that’s how long the 605 was basically at a standstill. I can remember the news footage of the helicopter taking Russo out of there. Unbelievable. People were out of their cars, standing on the freeway, watching the whole thing, many of them recording it on their phones.”
I nodded along. “I was surprised it went so public.”
“And now Russo’s the butt of many jokes.”
“Good one,” I said. “You’re quite the crack up.”
She smiled. “Ouch, you hit rock bottom with that one.”
“Ass-cuse me?”
Karla laughed. “I can’t believe that was you.”
“Another shining moment for me.”
She leaned forward. “So did Russo ever follow through on your deal?”
I held up a finger. “Actually, he did follow through on one thing: the school donation. Pico Rivera received two million, but the Clemens donation never came through.”
“That’s something, I guess. So where’s Russo now?”
“Europe. Italy, I think. He’s probably back in his hometown. All I know is he hasn’t stepped foot on American soil since the incident.”
“So does Frank know you were responsible?”
“There were a lot of rumors, of course. Labonte and Pepperstein assumed it was me and kept those rumors alive. Frank pretty much knew it was me, and he was livid about it until we struck a deal.”
“Which was?”
“He’d bury the case if my name ever came up, as long as I agreed to a demotion. At least that’s how I saw it. Frank called it a voluntary lateral movement. He wanted me in the office, stuck behind a desk so he could keep an eye on me. That’s why I was transferred from Violent Crimes to Cyber Crimes.”
“Cyber Crimes, eh? Doesn’t sound like you.”
“Yeah, that didn’t work out too well for me. I can’t be cooped up like that, which is probably why I exploded on that Marine.”
“Right, To Catch a Pervert.” She smiled.
I shrugged.
“So nobody knows for sure you’re responsible?”
“Well, now you do, and my former therapist. You have to promise not to tell anyone, even your husband.”
Karla blushed and opened her mouth to say something, then she stopped. Before I had a chance to prod her, Mick cracked open the car door and slipped into the back seat.
“Everybody get down,” he said, breathing hard. “NOW.”
CHAPTER 22
Karla and I ducked at the same time. I scrunched as far down in the seat as I could go. Karla buried herself in the foot well.
“Hope we’re not about to be shot,” I said.
“Nothing like that,” Mick said. “Hornsby just left. His car should be at the gate by now. I ran back to warn you since I didn’t want him turning right out of the driveway and catching you guys with his high beams.”
I pushed out a breath. “Got it.”
We waited in silence for thirty seconds.
“All clear,” Mick said.
I sat up and looked back at Mick. “Anyone else there?”
He shook his head. “We’re good to go.”
“Should I roll up to the gate and hope for the best?” I looked from Mick to Karla. “Any objections to that plan?”
Nobody said a word, so I drove up to the front gate, rolled down my window, and pushed a button on the intercom.
“Agents Chase and Dickerson here to see Governor Tuchek.”
No response for twenty seconds. I was about to try again when the speaker crackled on.
“The governor wants to know if his son is with you.”
“Negative,” I said. “That’s what were here to talk about. It’s important. Please relay that to the governor.”
Another few moments of silence, then the gate suddenly buzzed, and the metal wheels screeched on their track. The bars grated open. A moment later our car barreled through and wound its way up the driveway. It was a steeper incline than I’d imagined. I figured the house was perched on the apex of the hill, overlooking the city.
Once we’d wound through the sycamores, the mansion materialized in the distance. It was Spanish style, maybe 10,000 square feet, possibly more. The roof was clay-colored adobe tile and the curved driveway in front was made of ancient-looking cobblestones. I didn’t see more details than that because my eyes were drawn to the front door. Ernesto Tuchek nearly filled the entire frame of the double front doors. His hands were square on his hips and his lips were pursed.
I parked and looked at Karla. “This should be fun. He loves me.”
“Maybe I should do the talking,” Karla said.
“I second that,” Mick added.
I turned to my best friend. “Well, it definitely shouldn’t be you talking, since you tried to kill his son and all.”
“Point taken,” Mick said.
We exited the vehicle at the same time. Karla sprang to the front door and shook the governor’s hand. Tuchek didn’t offer his hand to Mick or me.
Instead, he looked right at me and said, “What the hell happened this time, Agent Chase? Where is Stanley? And by the way, you guys know everyone is looking for you, right?”
“We do,” Karla said.
The governor stroked his beard. “Maybe I should get Hornsby back here.”
I wanted to remind the governor that he was the one who insisted I be pulled off protection, which meant that Stanley wasn’t technically my responsibility, but I stepped toward him instead, and took a more political approach. “Give us five minutes to explain, sir, before you call anyone. Please.”
“It’s important, Governor,” Karla said. “We don’t know who to trust right now, except for you. Give us a chance to tell you what’s been going on.”
The governor eyed us for a moment, then stepped back and let us through the front door. He ushered a couple of staff members away and pointed us toward a sitting area to the right of the front door. Karla and I sat on the lone dark brown leather couch, while the governor and Mick took two red wingback chairs.
“Alright,” the governor said, squeezing into the chair, “start explaining.”
“As you know,” Karla began, “Special Agent Chase was chosen by Stanley to protect him.” The governor cleared his throat and was about to say something, but Karla held up her hand. “We understand your opinion on this, sir, but hear me out. Special Agent Chase was protecting your son from Special Agent Mick Cranston.” She motioned at Mick.
The governor shot looks
between Cranston and me, but didn’t say anything. Finally, his brow scrunched and he said, “What do you mean? That sounds crazy, you understand that?”
“We do,” Karla said.
The governor continued. “You’re saying the government sent my son death threats, then actually decided to follow up on them? This is preposterous. Why? Why would they do that?”
“We’re not exactly sure yet,” Karla said. “The Facebook death threats and Stanley being targeted by the government could be two separate things. What we do know is that Special Agent Cranston was given orders by the Special Collection Service to kill your son and Agent Chase, for national security reasons.”
“I can’t believe it,” the governor said. “Makes no sense, not at all. Stanley certainly hasn’t been into anything of this nature. I don’t even know what the Special Collection Service is.”
“It’s a joint intelligence organization between the NSA and CIA,” I said.
The governor eyed me. “You’re saying my son, the son of a United States governor, is being targeted by the federal government? I just can’t comprehend that. Why? What do they think Stanley’s done?”
“It’s true, sir,” Mick said. “I was commissioned to take out Stanley. Direct orders from the chairman of the SCS, unequivocal. I couldn’t believe it myself, and that’s why he’s still alive. Obviously I didn’t follow through with my orders, sir. I was also directed to kill Agent Chase and burn down his home. He and I worked together in the past, and he’s one of my best friends.”
The governor shifted forward in his chair and massaged his temples. “Do you know for sure Stanley’s alive right now? Because if what you’re saying is true, which I still can’t believe, maybe they sent someone else, another agent, and that person has killed my son.”
The Greatest Good Page 18