By Rob Loveboy
Edits by James FitzHugh
&
Len Homber
(all copyrights reserved)
Randall Cleaver discovered his computer had been stolen from his home office sometime during the wee hours of Sunday. The thief had cut a perfectly round hole in the kitchen’s French-door window and let himself in. The alarm system had to have been tampered with. The alarm company advised that a temporary communications failure had occurred at 4:22am, meaning the phone line went down. They attempted to contact Randall unsuccessfully until the alarm signal was restored at 4:31am. A professional burglar could have temporarily disabled both phone lines and overrode the manual siren alert that would have woken him up. All for a hard drive? It was the only thing missing that Randall could determine.
Randall didn’t bother calling the police because he knew exactly what the thief had been after … Sammy’s cell phone uploads. His blood ran cold remembering Sam’s warning that what he was sticking his nose into dangerous territory. Luckily, he had also transferred the material to a data-stick in order to take it to work on Monday and prepare to expose one of the largest scandals the government had seen since Watergate. He would be famous.
Randall called Sam and told him of the burglary. “Not to worry, I have it all on a data stick.” he laughed.
“I told you, Randall, leave me out of this. I want no part in it. Please leave me alone!” he hung up the phone and called Peter Williams.
They met at a coffee shop on Elm Street. Peter saw that Sam was in a dither, shaking violently and sweating profusely. Peter had barely sat down when Sam accused, “You broke into my brother-in-law’s house and stole his hard drive?”
“Not personally.” Peter laughed, “But I did orchestrate it, yes. What’s it to you?”
“I’m afraid for Randall’s sake. I told him to back off but he won’t. How far are you willing to go to shut him up? That’s what scares me … he is family!”
“Now that he doesn’t have the evidence … what the hell can he do?”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sir. He copied it all to a data-stick for easy transport.”
Peter was afraid of that. Plan B would have to be launched. “Well, Sammy, I guess we’re hooped. I’ll have to turn this matter over to a private agency and, when I do that, I can’t guarantee Cleaver’s safety.” Peter lied. “Why not try one more time to talk some sense into him and get that stick. I have his hard drive in my car; I’ll give it to you and tell him it was left on your doorstep.
Sam called him back that afternoon with the disappointing news saying there was no last minute change of mind on his brother-in-law’s part. Taking it to the next level, Peter paid a visit to another one of the stakeholders in the sordid affair.
* * *
Judge Bean was very cooperative in signing a search warrant for Randall Cleaver’s home. Why wouldn’t he be, after all he was a potential victim in the scam as well. Police Chief Frank Winston was summoned, told to drop everything, and together the three men planned out Peter’s strategy. The governor was contacted and informed of the plan.
* * *
At 9:14pm, police raided Randall Cleaver’s home. The search warrant was read in detail by Cleaver. It was clear in the document that the law was there to look for evidence of child pornography. The sole reason Peter had given the hard drive to Sam to take back to his brother-in-law was so that if it was found in the man’s home, it would be much more incriminating than had Peter turned it over to the authorities. Cleaver could then have said it had been tampered with and that he had been set up. The mistake the lawyer made was not reporting the break in and his missing hard drive to the police.. Cleaver’s wife had called the glass company right away and, not only had the pane been replaced, but the whole window replaced with thick security glass to deter any future horrifying intrusions.
Two laptops, a desktop and various DVDs and VCR tapes were seized by police as well as Cleaver’s cell phone. The data stick was located in his briefcase; Chief Winston was very pleased and personally secured that piece of potential evidence. The data stick would never be legally recorded as part of the confiscated possessions from the home.
* * *
Sammy and Cathy were watching the 11pm news when they both straightened up in shock watching video of a police raid on Randall and Mary’s home. The reporter said, “After what police say was a lengthy investigation involving Interpol’s child pornography unit and local police, Randall Cleaver, a prominent juvenile attorney was alleged to be in possession and distribution of kiddie-porn. Police carried out several computers and other items of interest, all will be forensically looked at by experts to determine if charges will be laid,. --Clive Baxter reporting live … back to you in the newsroom, Margo.”
Sam cupped his face in his hands shaking his head in disbelief. Cathy was freaking out and crying. Sam began to cry as well saying, “I tried to warn him, Cathy. I tried to tell him he was in too deep for his own good. These are powerful and ruthless people that he’s messing with.”
Sam remembered Peter giving him the hard drive to take back to Randall, had he set Randall up by loading kiddie-porn on his drive? The news said that it was a lengthy investigation and that Interpol was involved. However, the media will report anything told to them by the authorities and it will be believed as reliable sources.
Cathy finally made sense of her husband’s sobs and asked, “Are you saying this has something to do with the governor and his perverted friends?”
Sam laughed a cynical laugh, “You can bet your life on it!”
“Can’t you go forward and tell what you know … I will?”
“Tell what to whom, Cathy?” Sam raised his voice, “Who the fuck do we trust? I’m staying as far away from this as I can. I saw nothing at the governor’s mansion. Agent Williams purged all the evidence from my phone … and I’m damn glad he did. We keep our mouths shut and get on with life. Bad enough I lost my job over this shit!”
* * *
Mike Wilson was also watching the nightly news from his recliner, the only place he was comfortable nursing his two broken ribs. He hated Williams for making him look like a weakling in front of his wife. He was flabbergasted. Randall Cleaver was being railroaded in a huge cover up scandal. He called Sam who all but hung up on him when he said they had to take a stand and save attorney Randall Cleaver’s ass.
“Fuck off, Mike! I don’t ever want to see or talk to you again. Do I make myself clear?”
“But buddy, we can …”
Sam hung up. For the first time in his life, he took a stand against Mike’s control that he had over him ever since childhood.
He rang back, “I’m calling the TV station and giving them the truth! You’re a fucking sissy for allowing your own brother-in-law to take the heat. You oughta be ashamed of yourself!”
Sam hung up again, and said to himself, “All the power to ya, Mikey. Good luck!” He then called Peter and told him about Mike’s plans.
* * *
Peter thought what a dumb asshole Mike Wilson really was. He had a large ego and wondered how many times he got beaten up in high school for talking when he should have been listening. If it was hard ball Wilson wanted to play, then it was hard ball he would get.
A regular player at the mansion absent that weekend was Antonio Canetti, a defence lawyer for the mob. Peter called him and told him what had gone down over the weekend and that damage control was all but complete except for Wilson. Even though Antonio was not in the photos, he had an allegiance to the paedophile ring and the governor himself. If anyone believes that government and mafia don’t liaise, they are dead wrong. They are a billion-dollar enterprise who fund presidential elections, give millions to charity and pay taxes on their gains in the trucking and storage businesses. They keep criminal gangs in line, or obliterate them when the need arises. The mob has been suspected of taking out dictators of foreign governments so that the CIA could keep their hands clean and not have to go through endless protocol to get a ‘hit’ order.
They used to control the drug trade until home-kitchens became processing labs making and distributing very dangerous recreational drugs for cheap prices. Sadly, more kids were dying as a result, but who could argue that the mob served a purpose at one time by at least keeping drugs pure.
“Sounds like you did a good job with this mess, Pisano. I’ll take care of cracking the last nut for us without delay.”
“Okay Antonio, we have no choice. I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”
* * *
WQVZ television early news: “A fire destroyed a home in the Hamptons early this morning, the heat melting the sides of two other homes on either side of the inferno. Three battalions were called in but all they could do was save the neighboring houses. Two occupants of the home escaped unharmed …”
Mike was being interviewed next segment. He finally got his 15 minutes of fame. “Yes, I know who did this … they’re trying silence me and some other people. A goon was over today and broke two of my ribs! It’s the governor trying to shut me up and they set my house on fire … “Mike ranted as the television crew were soon packing up their gear thinking they were dealing with a nutcase.
If things could get any worse, Sammy didn’t know how. He once again counted his blessings that he had thought of getting out while he could. Call him a coward, but his family was safe … or so he hoped.
The noon hour news reported, “The fire department says the house fire in the Hamptons early this morning was caused by a leaking gas line connected to the stove that was sparked into an explosion by the owner’s light timers that are programmed to come on and off at different times to ward off potential burglars thinking someone was awake in the house . . .”
Mike was again in the camera’s view ranting about the governor having him beaten up and then burning his house down. This time a reporter humoured the deranged man and asked him why the governor was after him.
“Because I know too much … I was a security officer at the governor’s mansion and saw men sexually abusing little boys and I tried to expose them …”
The reporter turned away, obviously amused and looked into the camera, “This is Linda Cox reporting for WKPZ, --back to you Denis and Doreen.”
“Thank you Linda, keep us posted.” Denis said. Next up, President ….”
Sam felt sorry for Mikey, he was being made a fool of, but he hoped like hell Mike didn’t call and ask to stay over with his wife in his time of need. Obviously Mike hadn’t learned his lesson yet and that scared the hell out of Sam. Once again, he swore to Cathy that he wanted nothing more to do with the affair or Mike.
Cathy countered her hands on her hips as she usually did when she was angry. “They are our best friends, Samuel,” she said using his full given name only when she was pissed at him, “we can’t deny them our home in time of need like this!”
“Try me! Or do you want our house burned down next?” Sam stormed upstairs, conversation over. Cathy had never seen her husband so frightened and she backed off. There was a chill running down her spine as she faced the magnitude of the situation perhaps for the first time. The safety of their son Nicholas was all that mattered.
* * *
Antonio Canetti also watched the news and thought to himself that Mike Wilson wasn’t getting the message after all. Luckily, the press wasn’t taking him seriously. Peter Williams called him again.
“Obviously our Mike Wilson isn’t going to be spooked, Antonio. He’s a high strung idiot. I’ve just learned that he hasn’t quit the security agency like he was told to do. He fully plans on going back to work at the mansion after his ribs heal according to Dick Holmes, the owner; he hasn’t tendered his resignation yet. Dicky did reassign the other night security team to other contracts as I requested. Sam Melrose has resigned and has applied to an armoured car company, according to Dicky.”
Dick Holmes, owner of the protection agency, also liked boys and was one of the monthly players if he could make it. Otherwise, he calls Father Murphy and arranges for an overnighter that he picks up and brings back like every other man.
“Okay, Pisano. We’ve had enough of Mr. Wilson.”
“Yes.”
“Talk to you later.”
Peter hung up and lowered his head in shame. He had just sentenced a man to death. It wouldn’t be long before some rookie reporter took Mike’s radical claims seriously trying to make the big break in his career. Peter could not chance that.
The doorbell rang, he was expecting fourteen year-old Calvin that night. His wife was out of town and Peter would forget everything and enjoy the blond Adonis’ body. They met at the governor’s mansion. He was one of Jamie’s protégés; however, Peter took a liking to the kid and kept him away from the governor’s orgies. He took Calvin home with him that first night and the rest was history. Jamie never got a dime for the kid; the governor’s chief of security was not a man to fuck with. Jamie simply wrote it off in his mind as a good public-relations tactic.
* * *
Peter loved the boy’s five slender-inches and Calvin liked sucking Peter’s fat eight-inche. He was used to the large cock filling his bum and actually began to enjoy it after they had had sex several times.
The man was very good to him. He bought him presents and took him to sporting events. Vacations he had enjoyed were Disneyland and Mexico, Cal loved the warm ocean. He and Peter would go skinny dipping late every night only yards from their oceanside villa.
* * *
Antonio Canetti received the call just before midnight. The caller informed him that Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were spending the night at the Hilton hotel compliments of their insurance company. Canetti made a call that set the wheels in motion to rid the world of one, Michael Wilson. Eventually a missing persons report would be filed by his wife, however, no action would be taken on it and the report would never to be seen again.
to be continued …
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