Recycled Tomes
By Richard Gerard
Copyright 2009 by Richard Gerard
Also by Richard Gerard
Everybody Loves Squirrels
Angel of Death
You can find more information about me at my smashwords profile page
including an undated email address.
http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/RichardGerard
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental
Prologue
Email to: problem_solver
D. I want you to take care of something for me. Over in New Hampshire, Michael Jameson’s family needs to persuade him to not run for governor. If he throws his name into the hat, he would be unstoppable. In fact, he needs to retire out of politics, permanently. I was hoping you would help convince him that he wants to spend more time with his family.
Your old friend, Herb.
Drake hadn’t seen Herbert Wellcroft in a very long time, but they had kept in touch, and still remembered the old days. Back then, fifty thousand would get anybody killed, no matter who they were, and Herb had paid that fee on five separate occasions. That didn’t even mention all of the smaller things Drake did for him. Drake loved to hurt people, and he was very good at his job. Now days, both Drake and Herb were retired, and Drake wondered why the old man wanted something done after all this time. Drake pulled up his foreign account, and saw that Herb had already paid two hundred and fifty thousand. Inflation hit everything these days.
Although Drake and Herb remained in touch, Drake didn’t bother keeping up with current events. After Googling Michael Jameson and New Hampshire, Drake learned of his stellar popularity in the State House of Representatives and the hinting of a run at the governor’s office. Drake, knowing that Herb’s grandson was on the State Senate, figured Herb wanted another governor in the family.
Drake may have been too old to do this himself, but he still knew people. He picked up the phone. The next day, Drake heard the news that Herbert Wellcroft passed away of a heart attack. Drake could have stopped the entire episode, but honored his old friend one last time. Drake thought of this as his dying request, and they were old friends. Three days later, Michael Jameson’s niece Sara disappeared. The next day, ten manicured fingernails and ten matching toenails arrived at Michael’s office. They were bloody and had been ripped out of Sara’s body with pliers. Accompanied by the nails was a short note. “Get out of politics by 5:00pm today or tomorrow’s delivery will be much worse.”
Unfortunately for Sara, Michael decided to call the bluff. While the police watched the mail coming into his office, a package was placed inside his wife’s locked car. In it were ten fingers and ten toes, all missing the nails. The wounds showed evidence of bleeding. Sara was alive and being tortured because of Michael. Although no note was included, Michael Jameson retired from politics that afternoon stating this tragedy had reminded him about the importance of family.
Had Michael followed the original note’s instructions, Sara would have been released missing only the nails. Since Michael pushed the issue, the kidnappers wanted to send a very poignant message. Sara was a cute young woman, and her abductors were evil and mean. Very mean. After Michael retired, the kidnappers kept Sara for a few more days. They assaulted her as often as they could, beating her senseless when they were done. When she came to, the nightmare started again. This continued until one of the kidnappers choked her for too long, past unconsciousness and into death. Sara’s prayers had finally been answered. It took two days. The kidnappers stored her body in a freezer until after the election was finished. They didn’t want Michael Jameson returning to the election. A week after the results were in, Sara’s frozen body was found propped up in the passenger’s seat of Michael’s Mercedes.
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Susan Wellcroft was born into money. Her family’s political name and old school money gave her freedoms that others only dreamed about, but Susan saw those freedoms as chains holding her down. The politics of government and the politics of big business were both burdens her shoulders could live without. Over threat of expulsion from the family tree, Susan followed her heart and opened a small bookstore called Recycled Tomes. In an effort to get away from her family’s life, she moved across the country to southern California.
Although the Wellcroft money would have allowed her to buy Barnes and Noble, Susan wanted a little place she could disappear. She may have purchased the space out of her trust fund, but from her grand opening, Susan worked hard and turned a small profit every month.
Recycled Tomes was just a glorified name for used books. Susan would buy, sell, or trade anything brought off the street, but she loved to buy entire collections. She would keep an eye out for estate sales, and once there, offer to buy all of the books, sight unseen. If successful in her purchase, she would quickly box them up without looking at them. Only when she returned to her shop, would she begin to explore her treasures.
It was during these times, pulling old dusty books out of boxes, that reminded Susan why she didn’t follow her family’s direction. The Wellcroft name could travel around the world, but these books allowed her to traverse time. If she wanted to discuss poetry with Dante, religious persecution with Galileo, or travel space with Roddenberry, her books would always deliver.
Susan sorted all the books that came into her shop with an eye on profitability. Her casual customers kept the lights on, so most of the newer, well known authors would go straight to the front of the store and sold for a bargain price. The special books that Susan acquired, would end up sequestered away in a back room. The door to this room was always locked and marked with an employee’s only sign. That special room would never be visited by the casual readers. It took a special invitation from Susan to view those magnificent works.
It was in that quiet back room that Susan got the call. Though threatened, the Wellcroft’s never disowned Susan. She kept herself out of the papers so the more ambitious Wellcrofts let her be. The call was from her brother, one Fenton Wellcroft, New Hampshire State Senator and possible gubernatorial candidate. He told her that their grandfather had passed away. Susan, although sad at the news, had forgotten about him. After helping build its fortune, he abandoned the Wellcroft family when she was a young child. He wasn’t discussed after that.
Her grandfather Herbert, had retired from everything about twenty years ago, and moved to the mountains of northern California. Having outlived his wife by more than thirty years, he got tired of the politics and left it behind. He was looking for a quieter place to live out his days. It seemed that the Wellcroft family were disturbed by his complete lack of communication for the last twenty years, and were worried about whatever he had been doing might slander the family name. Since Susan was still a Wellcroft, she was nominated to gather up anything indiscrete and dispose of it. It didn’t hurt that they also deemed her time to be least valuable. Since no Wellcroft was expected to do something for nothing, it was decided that Susan could have whatever books she found for her “little hobby.” Fenton told her that before he left New Hampshire, Herbert loved to read, and took with him a small collection of his favorites.
Susan was annoyed at her family’s impudence and lack of respect. However, the thought of acquiring the volumes from a wealthy old man’s library pushed her to agree to do their bidding. Fenton said goodbye after Susan told him she would leave that night. She taped a small sign to the front door of the shop declaring a family emergency, and locked up. Once home, Susan packed a suitcase and ate dinner while waiting on the town car to take her to the airport. Since this was Wellcroft business, she had no qualms about chartering a small jet on their dime. She also made sure to grab her Wellcroft credit card and put it in her wallet. She wasn’t going to be spending her own money on this little adventure.
The nearest city large enough to accommodate the jet was Montague. While on the flight there, Susan had the pilot radio ahead to get her a car and room for the night. It was a small town, so she elected for a bed and breakfast as accommodations. It was getting late so picking up the keys to Herbert’s cabin at the sheriff’s office would have to wait until morning. Susan was impressed that the pilot did manage to get her a large four wheel drive Expedition. Neither was sure if she would need it to get to the house, so he erred on the side of caution.
Upon arriving at the airstrip, Susan found the SUV waiting beside a decrepit old hanger. Although no one was around, the keys were in the ignition, as well as a map of the county, highlighting the location of her bed and breakfast. Susan found it without difficulty, and after eating the delicious meal prepared by her host, turned in.
Susan was up early the next morning, and enjoyed her coffee while socializing with the hostess on the porch. Susan asked if she knew of her grandfather.
“I know the address you mentioned, but I don’t believe I ever had the pleasure of meeting the owner. If I did meet him, I’ve never put two and two together.”
Susan asked if she would mind pointing out the house on the map for later.
When it was late enough for the sheriff to be in, Susan said her goodbyes and left. She thanked her host and hostess for their hospitality, even slipping a large tip in. It was after all, Wellcroft money she was spending. After picking up the keys and verifying the directions, she headed west into the wilderness. Thirty minutes later, she pulled up into the most beautiful log cabin Susan had ever seen. It appeared to be two and a half stories tall, with a pair of dormer windows jutting out of the roofline. Although she hadn’t found them yet, there were two more on the back of the house that overlooked Klamath River in the distance. Her grandfather had picked a breathtaking spot to retire.
Susan got out of the SUV and headed towards the house. She loudly knocked on the door, just in case, before using the keys to let herself in. Susan was shocked. Having never seen the house before, she thought he had left everything behind when he moved across the country, but Herbert simply moved the luxury with him. Although the exposed beams of the log cabin provided a rustic facade, a closer inspection revealed all of the opulent detail fitting of a house in the Hamptons.
After admiring the wonderful architecture and craftsmanship, Susan set out on a quick tour of the home. She was pleased to notice that the power was still on, and after finding a dial tone, knew the phone worked as well. Susan’s tour stopped immediately when she found the “small collection.” After a quick survey, she determined that there were thousands of titles, and she was going to need a bigger truck. She didn’t know where she was going to fit them once she got them home, but she was not about to let these works get auctioned off in an estate sale.
Susan got on the phone and made arrangements for some movers, a moving truck, and all of the boxes that the movers could find. She guessed she was going to need about two or three hundred and tape to secure them, but wasn’t sure. She also told the lady on the phone that she would need the movers to drive the truck down to Santa Barbara tomorrow. After securing those for delivery this afternoon, Susan returned to the library for a more detailed inspection. Several bookcases were filled with modern best sellers, and Susan was a little disappointed until noticing that every single volume she picked up was an autographed first edition. Even those authors who never signed anything signed a personal note to her grandfather. From there, the works seemed to regress chronologically as she circled the room. She occasionally stopped and pulled out a particular title, glancing through it before gingerly placing it back in its home. As she finished circling the room, she randomly pulled out one last work. It was a leather bound piece, in what appeared to be Latin. She knew she was going to need help determining what she had, wondering how many other languages were represented here. She pulled out her iphone and after verifying service, snapped a photo of the cover and sent it to a friend that might be able to translate it. With nothing else to do until the movers arrived with the supplies, Susan resumed her tour of the house.
Susan decided to look around for anything embarrassing before the movers arrived. If she found anything, she didn’t want any witnesses. She poked around the kitchen, noting ample food if she needed to stay a few days. In a utility closet, she found three empty boxes which she took to hold any findings. Saving the downstairs master suite for last, she went upstairs and looked around. One guest bedroom had been turned into an exercise room, with a home gym and a stationary bike. Both looked well used. The other guest bedroom was just that, looking like it hadn’t been used in ages. A fine layer of dust covered everything, and the drawers of the wardrobe were empty. After a quick glance through the upstairs bathroom, Susan returned to the master suite.
In the master bath, the only thing she could find was an assortment of prescription pills. Not knowing what problems they treated, Susan tossed them all in one of the boxes. Finding nothing else, she moved to the bedroom and started poking through the drawers. She pulled each drawer fully out. Taped to the back side of one of them was a key with no indication of what it fit. It went in the box. Underneath the lowest drawer in the bottom of the cabinet, Susan found what added up to be seventy five thousand dollars in fifties and hundreds. Except for one stack of fifties, the cash also went in the box. Susan thought she might need a little traveling money, and put the bundle in her bag. The ten year old porn beside the bed, and the Glock in the nightstand filled up the first box.
Opening up an armoire, Susan found it to be a disguised computer desk. The laptop, a couple of flash drives, and all of the CD’s went into their own box. Susan was surprised at the amount of technology her grandfather owned. Beside the armoire were three locked file cabinets. Not bothering to see if she had a key to fit them, Susan made a mental note to tell the movers to grab them as well. She didn’t feel like spending the rest of the year reading through every scrap of paper. With nothing in or under the bed, Susan went to the last closet. Behind the hanging clothes, Susan spied a wall safe that she didn’t know the combination to. There were also a few boxes of miscellaneous junk, but Susan grabbed those to be safe. Finally, she grabbed a suitcase to move it aside and discovered it rather heavy and locked. Again unsure of the key location and not knowing its secrets, Susan took it as well.
Susan took the two boxes she filled and loaded them into the SUV, followed by the junk and locked suitcase. She still had plenty of room for any books she didn’t want to trust to the moving company. Before she forgot, she called the charter service and arranged for the jet to pick her up tomorrow morning, called the bed and breakfast and confirmed another night, and finally rented a climate controlled storage unit from a place near her bookstore. Finished with her chores, Susan returned to the kitchen to whip up some lunch. Checking the dates to be sure, she settled for cheese and crackers washed down with a cold beer. While she was eating, she heard the moving van pull up.
Susan went out to greet the movers and asked them to carry the boxes inside. She led the way, pointing where she wanted them stacked. When they had finally unloaded them all, Susan began giving the men their tasks.
“First, there are three file cabinets in that room over there that need to go in the truck. Once that is done, I want to set up an assembly line, with one of you building empty boxes, and the other sealing up the full boxes. I will fill them myself.”
With that, the men went to load the filing cabinets, and Susan wolfed down the rest of her cheese and crackers while they were gone. She was polishing off her beer when they returned. They set up the system Susan wanted, and she started filling the boxes. She carefully loaded the books making sure not to damage them, but not pausing to read the titles. It was going to take a while to pack them up, and Susan didn’t want to drag this out longer that she had to.
It was about three hours before the men suggested a break. Susan agreed, and went to fetch them some drinks. She returned with three beers, and a handful of fifties from her purse.
“Fellows, I know it is getting late, but I want to get this done tonight. Whoever stays and helps me gets a glowing review to your boss. They also get five hundred cash tonight as a thank you tip. I will give you two hundred each now and another three hundred when the truck is loaded. Will you both stay and help?”
Of course both men readily agreed, and after drinking the beers, returned to work. It was hard work, but all of the books were boxed and the truck loaded before 10:00pm. She gave the men the address in Santa Barbara of the newly rented storage unit, her cell number if they got lost, and the rest of their hard earned money. They ended up loading two hundred and fifty seven boxes of books into the back of their truck. After they were gone, Susan took one last look around the house, shutting off the lights, and locking the door behind her. She place the key under the doormat like Fenton had asked. She still needed to tell him about the safe, but that wasn’t her problem. Susan had her books, and was getting back to her own life. She didn’t arrive back and the bed and breakfast until after 11:00pm. She apologized for the late hour, and went straight off to bed.
Having not eaten since lunch yesterday, Susan woke up famished and happily found a full meal awaiting her. She would need to leave another large tip to make up for her bad manners. The host and hostess had been so accommodating, and whoever worked the kitchen was a great cook. Susan hoped that she wasn’t gaining weight on this trip, eating all of this home cooked goodness.
Returning to her room, Susan cleaned up, and prepared to leave. She left a lovely note on the pillow with an ample cash tip. She also left another on the credit card receipt, before returning to the airfield. Susan was a little late meeting the plane, but she was sure the Wellcroft card could support the added charge. Smiling to herself, Susan informed the crew of the items in the SUV that would need to be loaded before departure. Susan boarded the plane and sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs. After verifying with the pilot that a limo would be waiting to take her and the boxes home, she settled in for the short flight. She should be home before 10:30am, and would need the rest of the day to prepare for the books arrival. Being over a nine hour drive, Susan was planning for the movers to arrive before lunch the following day. Having the details sorted, Susan relaxed and closed her eyes. They didn’t open till the wheels touched back down in Santa Barbara, her body deciding it needed more sleep than Susan was giving it.
It was only a short drive home, and the limo driver helped carry Susan’s boxes into her house. Now back home, she made the perfunctory call to her brother Fenton to let him know that she had gone through the house and didn’t find anything bad. She also mentioned the safe so he could find someone to open it if they wanted to. She didn’t bother mentioning the cash. Susan called that her finder’s fee. Setting the boxes and locked suitcase aside, Susan headed off to the bookstore to start making room for her newest additions. Her first task was finding space for them in her store. Although her back room wasn’t full, she knew there wasn’t enough space. She decided to put the word out that she was cleaning out some of her older pieces. She also put a sign out discounting all of her casual books by twenty five percent. She was going to need lots of room.
The next day had Susan waiting for the mover’s call anxiously. She didn’t even bother to open the store in the morning; she just worked in the back, moving stuff around. The movers called just before noon, telling her they were parked in front of the storage place. It was only a couple of miles from the bookstore, and Susan sped over there. After unlocking the gate, and opening the door to her unit, Susan directed the men to transfer the boxes inside. She randomly selected four boxes, and diverted those to her car. These would be her first true look at her prize. After unloading the boxes and three file cabinets, Susan thanked the movers with another large tip. They departed, and Susan placed a huge padlock on the door. Susan returned to her store and unloaded the boxes into the back room. Only then, did she open the store for business, turning on the radio station she used for background music.
Whenever the store was empty, Susan would slip into the back and start looking through the boxes. The first box was full of autographed modern work. Susan had already decided to sell these off, and place all of those works into an empty display cabinet. She would have to look up a reasonable price for each later. When Susan started emptying out the second box, she found they were all foreign, and couldn’t read any of them. Although she recognized some of the names as great minds and philosophers, she didn’t know if they were some sort of copy or an original manuscript. Thinking of her friend she emailed earlier, Susan was shocked at the time when she pulled out her phone. She needed to lock up and go home. Her friend and these books would have to wait until tomorrow. Closing up the second box, Susan locked up the store and headed out to grab some diner. She stopped for Chinese, and headed home.
After diner, Susan decided to see what was on Grandpa Herbert’s laptop. When it was last used, it hadn’t been shutdown fully, just put into sleep mode. When she fired it up, it returned to the last thing that had been open, the email software. Already logged in, it downloaded Herbert’s one new mail message from problem_solver.
“H. That little problem you mentioned earlier today is being taken care of. Just like old times. D.”
That short message piqued Susan’s interest. She looked into the sent folder and discovered Herbert’s previous note. She immediately recognized Michael Jameson’s name. The story of his missing niece made national news and Susan had heard about it on the radio earlier today. Susan nearly passed out as her brain processed the information. As she worked through it, she still had difficulty believing what she had read. Although her family was pretentious and conceited, she never would have thought that any of them could be responsible for kidnapping. She wondered what else her grandfather was guilty of. The “Just like old times” comment worried her. How much of her family’s fortune and success was due to horrendous acts like this? She knew she had to call the police. The girl had gone missing today, and there was still hope of finding her.
Susan was looking up the number of the FBI, when she thought to warn her brother. She didn’t think he was responsible or even aware of their grandfather’s actions. This was going to screw up all of their plans, and she felt she owed them at least a heads up. Dialing his private number, Susan thought about what she would say.
“Fenton, it’s Susan. Have you heard about Michael Jameson’s niece? She’s missing. I don’t know how to tell you this but I think Herbert was responsible for her disappearance. I just now got around to looking through his laptop and I found an email he sent a couple days ago. It says for this guy he called problem solver to convince Mr. Jameson’s family to get Mr. Jameson to quit politics. The guy sent one back saying he had taken care of it, just like old times. Just like old times Fenton, that means he has done this before. I am calling the FBI. I have to tell them what I found.”
“Susan, hang on before you do that. Why don’t you email me a copy of what you found. Maybe you’re missing something. I don’t see why or how Herbert would do something like that for me. He hasn’t been a part of this family for twenty years.”
Susan hoped she was missing something, and sent off a copy to her brother. While she waited for him to read it, she printed a copy for herself.
“Susan, you’re right. I am sending this off to a guy I know in the FBI right now, so you don’t have to worry about it. Mom will fly out tonight to collect the laptop. We need to get that to the proper authorities as well.”
Susan was happy that Fenton agreed with her. She had been worried that he would want to keep it hidden, but Susan just knew her brother would do the right thing. Fenton had proven himself level-headed again, and Susan was happy to be rid of the laptop as well. She hoped the FBI would be able to use the information to save the girl. Less than an hour later, Susan’s mom Evelyn, called from the plane, and asked Susan to meet her at the airport in five hours. At 700 miles per hour in your own jet, cross country trips weren’t so bad.
Susan packed up all of the electronics, as well as everything else she had found in Herbert’s cabin except the seventy-five grand. She couldn’t wait to be done with this business but she saw no need for the cash to go back to any Wellcroft. She had decided to sell off or donate all of the books she collected for charity and would add the cash to that. She didn’t want a penny from whatever her grandfather had been doing.
Susan was waiting when Evelyn’s jet touched down. After the forced pleasantries, Susan gave her the two boxes, miscellaneous junk, and the locked suitcase. Susan had forgotten about the locked file cabinets. Susan returned home, grateful to be able to finally go to bed.
The next day, Susan went to the storage unit with a pry bar. She spent most of the day reading through the entire contents of the three locked file cabinets, finding nothing that would help the police or even hinted at any wrong doing by Herbert. Susan kept the radio on, listening for an update on the kidnapping story. They mentioned that some small body parts had turned up, which verified the woman didn’t wander off on her own. They did not mention anything about Herbert or his email. Curious, she called Fenton who repeated that they turned everything over to the FBI. He commented that it must have been kept out of the media so as not to spook the kidnappers. Other than that, Fenton said that they had done all they could, and he would call her if anything changed. Susan said a prayer for the young woman after she hung up with Fenton.
A few weeks later, the story had died down enough for Fenton Wellcroft to officially announce he would be running for governor. Susan read about it the next day, livid and called Fenton.
“How can you be so crass using Mr. Jameson’s loss as a stepping stone? Don’t you have a heart? How come no arrests have been made in the kidnapping case? Why haven’t I heard anything about the email on the news? What’s going on?”
When Susan calmed down enough, Fenton told her the truth.
“Evelyn and I destroyed everything. It would have ruined this family. I’m sorry about that girl, but she was probably already dead before we could do anything. We didn’t see a need to involve ourselves. Susan listen, if you go to the police now, we will tell them that you called us about some info, but when Evelyn went to collect it, you had all ready destroyed it. We will blame you for this, and you will go to prison. At best, we will get community service, having never actually seen any evidence. Just go back to your bookstore and forget any of this ever happened.”
Susan was shocked. She trusted them, and now they were threatening to do this. She couldn’t believe it. Susan was so pissed, she threw her cell phone across the room where it shattered. As she thought about her situation, she realized he was right. She was stuck and couldn’t go to the police without any evidence. Susan didn’t know what to do.
Susan went to bed angry that night. Having no one she could talk to about her problem just made her more upset. Although sleep didn’t sooth her ruffled feathers, it did clear her head enough to start coming up with a plan. She decided to not just sell Herbert’s entire collection, but to use the proceeds to run a smear campaign against her own brother. She might not be able to force him to quit the election, but she could make it very hard for him to win. By this time, she had emptied out most of the storage unit that held his books, and spent the entire day moving the remainder into her back room. Susan took the books that had previously been stored there and moved them into the storage unit. Those were hers and she didn’t want to get rid of them. She called her friend who was helping her identify some of the foreign titles and asked her to come over. She also started putting the word out to the serious collectors that she was having a back room fire sale and to bring their checkbooks. Her friend helped identify the remaining books and together they estimated what they might be worth. By the next day, they had a complete catalog. The depth of Herbert’s collection was astounding. The catalog went on the internet, and people started calling to make appointments to look the books over. By the end of the week, they had only sold about a tenth of the books, but the war chest had grown to over five million dollars. The traffic showed no signs of slowing down.
Once Susan had started getting money in, she found a law firm to work with on the east coast. She didn’t want her family to be able to tell it was her who was financing the smear campaign against Fenton. All of the ads would say “paid for by the committee to get Fenton Wellcroft out of politics,” and that name would only lead back to her newly hired lawyers. She knew that it might eventually come out, but she could deal with that problem later.
As Susan’s fire sale wound down, it had generated over thirty million. Although a lot of the books were priceless, Susan sold them for whatever she could get. The lawyers were doing a fine job of slandering Fenton and he had no idea that it was his own sister behind this headache. Fenton still led in the polls by a small margin and Susan wasn’t sure that she could cost him the election. She needed to start coming up with a plan B. Since the collection was about gone, Susan also needed to get back to the business of running a book store. When she started going through the overdue paperwork, she found the printout of the email her grandfather had sent to problem_solver. It had gotten mixed in with sales reports from the bookstore that Susan had neglected. Although too late to take to the police, it had one piece of information on it that Susan thought might be useful; problem_solver’s email address. As Susan lay in bed that night, a new plan was forming in her mind.
Susan was still very angry that her brother and mother didn’t go to the police. Nothing new had emerged about Sara Jameson and everyone assumed her to be dead. Susan knew however that the night she first called Fenton, Sara had just been kidnapped. She was still alive and that email might have saved her. Susan held Fenton and Evelyn responsible for Sara’s presumed death and decided that they must be punished. She hoped problem_solver would help. She fell asleep that night, dreaming of justice for Sara. By the next morning, Susan knew what she was going to say. As she pushed the send button for the email, Susan shivered. She didn’t know that she was capable of what she was planning.
“D. You don’t know me, but I believe you have recently helped my grandfather out with a problem. Herbert Wellcroft? If you are available to help me out with something similar, please contact me. Susan.” The reply followed within minutes.
“Deposit two million in the following Swiss account within 30 minutes. If you are who you say you are you should not have any problem with that. Your money may be returned after we meet.”
Susan transferred the money immediately, and thirty minutes later, another email arrived.
“S. I will see you in two days. Don’t change your routine at all.”
For the next two days, Susan continued with her normal activities, running the bookstore. Late on the second afternoon, she was waiting on an older gentleman who was browsing the westerns. He walked up to the register and paid cash for his two books.
“I hear you have a problem,” said the old man. “Perhaps you would like to accompany an old man to dinner? Oh, by the way, I’m Drake.”
It took Susan a moment to put it together, and she agreed. It was close to closing time, so they left, Susan locking up the store behind her. They walked to a nearby restaurant and made idle conversation throughout the meal. The topic of their meeting never came up. After the waitress brought the check, Drake stood up.
“Thank you for buying me dinner. Keep an eye on your email.”
Susan spent the entire next day anxiously waiting before finally receiving word from Drake.
“S. No promises. What do you want? Vague answers are best. Directly ask me to do anything illegal and you will never see me or your pocket change again.”
Susan had to rethink her pitch to comply with his restrictions.
“D. My brother Fenton and my mother Evelyn have caused me undue stress. It would please me if they fell on hard times so to speak. I would hate to see them hurt physically, but they both deserve to lose out on the pleasures of freedom. Should the police find a large quantity of illicit substance in their possession, my mood would greatly improve. I am also saddened that the poor state of New Hampshire continues to suffer under my brother’s elected position. On a different note, I again sympathize with your friend’s illness. Should my donation to his health fund prove inadequate, I would be happy to contribute whatever it takes to bring him back to health. Sincerely, Susan.”
Drake was pleased to see that Herbert’s granddaughter could follow directions. He contemplated her request for a while before replying.
“Thank you for the wonderful sentiments and your generous offer. At this time, your previous contribution seems to be sufficient but if the need arises, know that we will not hesitate to accept your offer of additional funding. On a sadder note, I am sorry to hear of your current family squabbles. Surely you cannot mean what you wrote previously; wishing such pain and suffering on your own family. They must have hurt you deeply. I have dreamed about you, and in those dreams, your mood and situation improve soon. Best wishes, D.”
Drake had decided to accept Susan’s job offer. Since Herbert was dead, he felt no allegiance towards the Wellcroft family and this was business. Drake even wondered if he should leave retirement and return to work, at least on a part time bases. All of this recent activity had reminded him of how much he enjoyed his career. With Drake’s acceptance, Susan was happier than she had been in weeks and allowed her mind to return to what she loved most. Her bookstore had been suffering recently, her sour mood and odd hours driving away customers. She decided to take an ad out apologizing to all of her customers and offer a buy one get one free promotion. A good bargain will forgive the merchants wrong doing every time. Business soon returned to normal, with Susan only periodically checking out the political scene across the country.
The first story broke less than two weeks later. Fenton had been speaking to a police union, trying to win more votes. After the speech, he joined a group of K-9 officers that had been sitting in the front row for a photo op. As Fenton, the officers, and their dogs gathered, one of the animals alerted his handler to drugs on Fenton. The officer jokingly asked if Fenton was carrying narcotics, and of course, everyone thought it was funny. Fenton, thinking that the extra press of this story would give him two points in the polls, took off his jacket and handed it to the officer. Everyone was still laughing and smiling until the dog alerted to it again. Fenton, thinking this was some joke, played along, but the mood in the room had suddenly turned cold. All of the media’s cameras were focused on the dog and Fenton. Dead silence overtook the room as the officer pulled out a small bag of cocaine from the jacket pocket. Fenton was flabbergasted, and immediately went on the offensive saying that the jacket had just been picked up from the cleaners this morning. “That can’t be mine” Fenton yelled as the camera shutters clicked away. The officer apologized and reminded Fenton about the zero-tolerance policy New Hampshire had. Fenton knew it well as he helped it pass a few years ago. Poor Fenton was throwing a tantrum as the officer arrested him for felony drug possession. While awaiting his bond hearing, the police searched the limo that Fenton had arrived in. It in, they found 5 more baggies of cocaine that matched the first one. With this much evidence mounting against Fenton, the DA convinced the judge to hold Fenton for forty-eight hours before allowing him to bond out. It was during this time, the police secured a warrant to search his mansion, where 3 kilos of pure cocaine were found and the police started seizing everything that had a Wellcroft name on it. Since most of their money was in the Wellcroft trust, and Fenton had access to that trust, the police argued that it could be seized as profits from this illegal drug business. The judge agreed, leaving Evelyn Wellcroft a few zeros short on her balance sheet. Although she had some funds in her own trust account, this loss was going to greatly hamper her style of living. She was even forced out of her own home, as it had been purchased by the Wellcroft trust. Evelyn drained most of her trust fund to purchase a much smaller house. She even had to let the staff go.
Evelyn bonded her son out by putting up her new house as collateral. Unfortunately, she didn’t have enough money to mount a proper defense for him. As all of his assets had been frozen, he was forced to rely on a public defender as his attorney. He even tried to beg from his sister Susan, but she wouldn’t take his calls. Susan was secretly pleased that her brother had been abandoned by everyone, just he had ignored poor Sara when she needed help the most.
Fenton Wellcroft’s arrest held the national spotlight for over a week. Every media outlet continued to air the now famous scene where the officer pulled out the baggie of cocaine. It was usually followed by replays of the D.E.A. removing three blocks of coke from his mansion. Speculation ran the gamut from the Wellcroft’s being drug lords to Fenton having such a bad addiction that three kilo’s of coke was necessary to feed it. No one even suggested that Fenton was innocent. Fenton held press conferences proclaiming this, but he had already been convicted in the court of public opinion. Not only did he withdraw from the election, he was forced to resign from the Senate as well. Members of both parties were fielding calls from their constituents that wanted Fenton impeached. No one believed his ramblings about conspiracy. Fenton decided his only hope was to focus on the criminal trial, and mount a comeback after he was proven innocent.
Since all of Fenton’s assets, including the mansion, had been frozen or seized, Fenton was forced to move into his mother’s new house. His friends and associates deserted him and he had no where else to turn. Being kicked out of all three country clubs and with no job, Fenton had time to do a lot of thinking. He knew he was being framed, and as the trial loomed, he grew increasingly paranoid that it was Evelyn who was responsible for all of this. His accusations grew in vehemence until she was afraid for her safety and kicked him out. As she was still his mother, she agreed to pay for a hotel room until the trial was over.
Drake and his people were still waging a private war against Fenton, and he was regularly watched. Evelyn was the last person who had supported him, and when she kicked him out, he was utterly alone. On the first day of the trial, Fenton and his public defender sat isolated. No one wanted even the hint of association to the man who fell so far. That night, Drake set into motion the final stage of his plan against the Wellcroft’s. Fenton was kidnapped and held hostage for three weeks while his trial went on without him. Since he was present for the first day of proceedings, the judge ruled that Fenton was aware of the ongoing trial, and this was a choice by him not to attend. He was convicted In Absentia. When he failed to appear for the conclusion of the trial, the bail bondsman rightly claimed that he had jumped bail and seized Evelyn’s new house. Only then did his kidnappers release him unharmed. Fenton was now a wanted, convicted felon with no money and no where to hide. With a famous face, he was spotted and picked up within hours, losing his freedom again. It would be seven years before he was even eligible for parole. Although Evelyn was never charged in any of this, the suspicion hanging over her name and the loss of her wealth cost her all of her alleged friends. With almost no money left, Evelyn was handed a plate of humility and withdrew into a quiet submission. She lived her remaining years off proceeds from the sale of the book and movie rights to her story.
Susan was quite satisfied with the outcome of events. She considered the two million well spent, and slowly distributed the remainder of funds from the sale of Herbert’s books to various charities. Unlike Evelyn, Susan’s own trust fund was healthy and growing. Recycled Tomes was doing better than ever. Susan was happy and content when a familiar old man returned to her store. Although she knew he was directly responsible for Sara Jameson’s disappearance, she couldn’t help but feel a small kinship towards him.
“Hello Drake, so nice of you to stop by,” Susan started.
“I am sorry about the tragedy that befouled your family,” replied Drake. “Who knew that they had such dirty secrets to hide. I hope you feel a sense of closure in this affair.
“Yes Drake, I have dealt with my families indiscretions. Are you here because your friend is feeling poorly again?”
“Alas, he passed away, but your generous donation assured that he didn’t suffer towards the end. Again, thank you”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m glad I could help when I did. In light of that, I do think it best then that we part ways. Our continued association would just remind us both of these troubled times.”
“Yes Susan, I think that best also.”
Drake left the bookstore, and Susan returned to her little piece of heaven. A few weeks later, Susan didn’t notice or care that the election in New Hampshire had ended. She did however hear the story of Sara Jameson’s body turning up. She was saddened by this turn of events, and hoped to never see Drake again. She hoped she would eventually come to terms with her family’s role in this situation and stop thinking about that poor woman and her suffering. She had also been thinking about her brother a lot. She thought maybe she would send him a book to read in prison. He might appreciate the gesture.