Sins of the Mother

by B K Johnson

  His parents had little faith in the police and hired Tommy themselves. They were a black, middle-class family and didn’t have a lot of money. Still, they wanted the driver to be found, arrested and prosecuted. Tommy agreed to try to find the car and driver, and only charged the family $500 for her efforts. When people were truly suffering, like this family was, Tommy treated these cases as close to pro bono as she could afford. She intended to begin the next day. She had already viewed the autopsy photos and couldn’t get the image of the beautiful, precious little child laid out on the gurney, the top of her head crushed. It was the only wound to her body, but it had been fatal. Tommy kept seeing her own Cecilia in her mind, another innocent victim of happenstance. She wiped away as many of her tears as she would allow herself to cry. She had to get a grip on her emotions.

  Tommy knew also that she had to get back to the Gage investigation right away. Geoff had called her three times in the last 8 hours, wanting to know if Jimmy had brought Tommy the surveillance tape yet. He hadn’t, but Tommy was well aware that the tape was complete, in Jimmy’s hands, and was damning. He had already made arrangements to set up the viewing room at his office for Tommy to come by and review the tapes whenever she could. Tommy had called Jimmy earlier and suggested they get together today, if at all possible.

  Geoff wanted the tapes turned over to him now, reneging on his earlier promises. He asserted that since he’d paid the tab for them, he was entitled to possession of them. Jimmy was reluctant to let them out of his hands until Tommy gave him the okay. It was Tommy’s opinion, even without seeing the tapes that they should not be blithely handed over to Geoff personally. If they showed even half of what Jimmy said was on them, she figured Geoff would hit the ceiling. And besides, he’d agreed to wait. Tommy intended to copy them and deliver a set to Geoff’s attorney’s office. Let Mr. Cox deal with whether or not they would be delivered to Geoff. At least, someone should be with him when he first took a look at them, for his own sake.

  Jimmy returned Tommy’s message and said she could meet him at his office on Bush Street at 4:00 p.m. He said there were about 3 hours of tape to review, so he suggested Tommy take care of whatever other business she had, personal or work-related, prior to coming over. She took his advice to heart, and went into the gym to work out. Once she had her boxing gloves and headgear on, she went to the body bag and began beating at it mercilessly. With every blow, it swung slowly away from her, with the tension in her body following suit.

  Tommy could not begin to feel any compassion for a person who would hit a little girl with their car and just continue on their way as if there would be no repercussions. She fully intended to get to the bottom of that case, see that justice was done and that the perpetrator spent the maximum time allowed behind bars. She also hoped that the individual had comprehensive car insurance. It wouldn’t help the Browns with their grieving process, but perhaps a monetary settlement would allow them to purchase some therapy for Jeremiah, and a headstone for Brandolyn.

  Once she punished herself and the body bag relentlessly for an hour, Tommy went upstairs and stripped off her sopping wet tank top and shorts. She jumped in the shower and allowed herself to feel the hot spray beating on her aching shoulders, neck and back. God, she could use a massage, she thought. Maybe tomorrow, after she’d made some headway at the police department learning whatever they knew about the hit and run. Tommy knew better than to run herself into the ground physically and emotionally. She’d been there and done that, and had made a promise to herself to always get adequate rest, food and comfort. She was a much better investigator when she was at the top of her game, mentally and physically.

  Tommy grabbed a blue sweatshirt and tried gingerly to get it over her head and on her body. Her shoulders hurt so badly it was a struggle to get her arms in the shirt. Jeans, socks and tennis shoes completed her outfit and she grabbed up her briefcase along with her purse. She would have to have something in which to carry the copies of the tapes. Leaving the side door, she debated whether to run over to Bush or to take the Jetta. Since she knew it would be dark before returning home, she elected to drive over to Jimmy’s. She was already pretty exhausted and achy, and didn’t feel it would do her any good to push the issue. Plus, the briefcase would be much heavier on her return.

  She arrived right at 4:00 p.m. and wasn’t in the least surprised to see Jimmy waiting out front for her. He still had that vile habit of smoking, and was bringing a Marlboro up to his lips when she pulled up to the sidewalk in a no parking zone. She rolled down her window, and Jimmy motioned around to his left. There was a parking garage used only by his company, and he had thoughtfully parked his own car on the street to give Tommy a parking stall. Tommy was really glad she’d brought the car now, so she could take advantage of Jimmy’s gift. Once parked, she got out and went back around to join Jimmy at the front door. She marveled at how he had come up in the world, and teased him about his fancy workplace. He just grinned and said it sure beat any police station he’d ever been in.

  They settled down in the viewing room. Jimmy brought Tommy a cup of coffee. Not a caramel macchiato, but a cappuccino that hit the spot nonetheless. He put the first cassette in the DVD and hit play. Tommy hadn’t realized how she dreaded watching a tape of the two women. She finally let her breath out, and was surprised to learn she had been holding it. The first several minutes were innocuous enough, just Samantha and Daniella lying on the huge bed in the master bedroom, watching a new episode of CSI. They were both wearing lounging pajamas, Samantha’s gold satin and Daniella’s a dusty rose brocade. Every once in a while, Daniella would stroke Samantha’s hair and kiss her cheek. Samantha seemed in a world of her own, her eyes glued to the set.

  When the first commercial came on, Samantha rolled over on top of Daniella and said, “I promise, darling. We will get it on tonight. I’ve just been waiting all week for this episode to air, so I’m a little distracted right now. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Daniella pushed Samantha off of her and got off of the bed. She shrugged her shoulders and huffed, “Well, I might as well go take a bath while you watch the tube.”

  “That’s an excellent idea, darling,” coaxed Samantha. “Finally,” breathed Samantha, when Daniella turned on the water in the tub. She turned her attention back to the show, and settled comfortably among her pillows for the remainder of the show.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  After a very uneventful few days, the Planner was getting stir crazy. So much activity had been experienced and reminiscence of dispatching both Judge Julie and District Attorney Young did not bring enough joy. It was not so easy now to sit at home and have nothing but memories. Now the Planner understood why serial murderers inevitably escalated the pace of their crimes. It was like an adrenalin rush and took over one’s body. It needed to be let loose. Knowing from numerous stints in mental institutions that activity would be required or the mind would again be stretched beyond the fine line of sanity, the Planner determined to maintain control and get busy.

  To that end, an exercise program was established. The Planner had no delusions about the strength of the next victim. Skills would have to be developed that could overcome a virile person. Dancing had blessed the lithe, supple body that the Planner could bend, and although leg muscles were exquisite, arm muscles lacked definition and power. The Planner ordered comprehensive exercise equipment on line, and mastered three sets of 50 crunches and lunges twice a day while waiting for the arrival of the in-home gym. Keeping legs strong and supple would be required.

  The Planner also began reading s series by Laura Joh Rowland about 16th century Japan, having become fascinated with Lady Reiko, the wife of the samurai detective Sano Ichiro. Escapism was one means to skirt delusional behavior. Self-hypnotism was another, as was self-medication. But for now, the Planner’s mind was buzzing with bees and it couldn’t be kept quiet unless occupied by reading. Every effort would have to be developed with a sense of control gained by the practice of hypnotism an
d meditation. Pretending to be a detective and solving crimes in another era was a step in the right direction.

  In no time the gym equipment arrived, and the Planner set it up in the spare bedroom. A series of exercises was begun that focused entirely on arms and upper body. Relishing the feel of the stretches, pulls and power lifts, the Planner noticed that the brain’s useless frenetic activity had ceased, and there was a calming into a passive acceptance of the body’s needs. While training, the Planner marveled at the ease with which so many lives had been taken without much resistance.

  The guard at Koolau had willingly invited the Planner into his home, where he had been plied him alcohol until he could be tied up in the chair that would become his final resting place. The District Attorney’s vice of watching a Korean sex performance was simply converted into a useful tool against him. Driving a vehicle into the Judge had been of slight risk, and much easier than anticipated. It took longer to set the stage for denouement of Judge Julie’s demise. And Maile had willingly succumbed to her strangulation. Other incidental deaths were accomplished without much stress or strain. But somehow the Planner knew instinctively that this next victim would put up a fight and require a more physical effort. Strategy was everything in a contest of wills.

  Having settled into an exercise regimen morning and night, the Planner began making a list of items that would be needed. Corded nylon rope and linked chains with combinations locks were first on this list. Then duct tape. A supply of new tapes for the tape recorder was next. The hardest part, cementing steel rings into the garage floor, was the most challenging. The Glock got cleaned obsessively and stockpile of ammunition grew large enough to hold off an onslaught for several weeks.

  In order to make life appear as normal as possible, the Planner contacted siblings and began visiting with nieces and nephews. It had been a long time since any time had been spent with them. Regularly scheduled trips to Kona and Hilo, where Lilia and Kalona lived respectively, were made. Ariana’s home was just over the hill in Waipahu. The Planner remembered an old slogan learned in a 12-step program where attendance had been required as part of her treatment. It was “Act as if.” That would be the best cover possible.

  That was not the only positive outcome of the Planner’s actions. None of the other siblings had enjoyed hula at all, leaving the Planner the sole surviving family member to possess this talent. Of course, Kekoa, had he lived, would have become a legendary dancer. There could be no doubt about this. The legal system had not only deprived his parent of a handsome, affectionate son, but the hula community from a mega-star.

  Conversations with siblings were proving to be quite tricky, however. Lilia wanted to know where the Planner had gone to live in the mainland, and what was done there. Lilia was appeased her with insignificant little details about northern California and the legal arena. Kalona was more concerned with how the Planner could manage to survive financially without working. This bullet was dodged by claiming to have invested in the stock market quite successfully. The house, of course, had been paid for, and all of the income made from various employment in the past few years had been set aside in numerous certificates of deposit and savings accounts. The Planner had never informed the social security office of return to full time employment, and so disability checks were still being received. It was this income which enabled monthly expenses to be met without accumulating wealth being touched.

  The Planner was not afraid of being found out by the government for a few reasons. The first was due to the incredible ineptitude of the social security administration. The second was that the same social security number was never used for the various jobs. Dancers, whether hula or exotic, were never forced to prove their identities by submitting driver’s licenses or social security cards. Neither were legal secretaries.

  This last fact continued to astonish the Planner to no end. After all, you would think attorneys would be more careful than anyone else to abide by the law. Nothing could be truer from the fact. Not once was the Planner asked to substantiate identity to any of the employing attorneys. Not only that, but working for attorneys was the only job where overtime was worked without pay, no coffee breaks were offered or taken, and a much shorter lunch time was given than that required by law. Attorneys not abiding by the law – now wasn’t that an anomaly?

  It took the Planner quite a while to figure out why these attorneys refused to obey the law. The Planner had known that attorneys were an arrogant breed, but had not guessed at the extent of their sense of superiority until a trial attorney was challenged for not paying any overtime. He deliberately laid down his law. One- he was a sole practitioner and there were never more than 5 employees in his firm. Therefore the labor laws did not apply to him. Two – there was no time clock to punch and therefore no physical evidence of the tracking of hours. And Three- who was ever going to believe a mere secretary’s word over the boss’? It was this conclusion that forever cemented in the Planner’s mind the utter invulnerability felt by this man, as well as his contemporaries. After all, they were lawyers, and therefore their word was law. This line of thinking led inexorably to the next course of action.

  Refreshed, primed and ready, the Planner was ready to take on Dave Lee, teaching a course on discrimination and the law at night.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Tommy was heading toward the office of Clayton Cox on Geary. She and Jimmy had reviewed all of the videotapes accumulated over the last several days at the Gage home. She’d set aside the copy she would stash in her own safe. The other copy was being delivered to Clay, one of the premier family law attorneys in San Francisco, and the gentleman who had drafted Geoffrey Gage’s prenuptial agreement. This was the deal she had struck with Geoff. He would not have the copy delivered to him personally, but his attorney would take custody of it to ensure authenticity if ever needed. The original was going to be held by Jimmy in his office.

  It was amazing to Tommy that what was the most damning aspect of the surveillance DVDs was not the sex, although there were many and varied acts between Samantha and Daniella. Some involved the use of dildos and vibrators, while others were just the two women engaged in mutual sexual satisfaction in all conceivable positions. And this transpired over a period of only three days, while Geoff was on his “business trip.” What was shocking was that Daniella, the younger woman, was the aggressor.

  Daniella professed repeatedly to Samantha how much she loved her and how anxious she was for Samantha to terminate her marriage to Geoff. She wanted them to begin to live openly as partners. While Samantha did not reject Daniella’s overtures out of hand, she was insistent that she had to stay married to Geoff for seven years in order to get her million-dollar settlement. If she stayed married to him even one day less than that, or had an affair, she would get nothing. She had another, hidden reason, but the settlement seemed to satisfy Daniella’s curiosity. Samantha also communicated to Daniella that any affair which would render the marriage void for settlement purposes had to be a heterosexual one in order to invoke the caveat. The actual language prohibited any sexual conduct with any person other than the marital partner without that partner’s explicit and/or implied consent.

  Samantha had evidence that early in their marriage, Geoff had encouraged her to find another woman with whom they could enjoy a ménage a trois. That third person was Michaela and she still had the pictures of their fling. What Geoff didn’t know was that Michaela and Samantha’s sexual relationship continued without his presence being required. He was, however, well aware of their continuing friendship. Samantha was convinced that since Geoff had explicitly consented to lesbian conduct during their marriage, he would be estopped from arguing that such a relationship met the prerequisite for invocation of the caveat. Her Momma hadn’t raised no dummy, even if she was trained to be malleable.

  To her way of thinking, the fact that Michaela and Daniella were not the same person did not withdraw Geoff’s implied consent to a lesbian affair. Samantha already had the prenu
ptial agreement reviewed by her own attorney, Lucinda Williams, who agreed with that premise. As everyone knows, wherever there is a contractual agreement, there are as many interpretations of the language as there are lawyers to review it. And if there were no precedents upon which to rely, so much the better. Cases of the first impression were always being sought by attorneys who had the money and the reputation to make new law.

  What disturbed Tommy so greatly about her review of the surveillance tapes was the language. Not that it was excessively foul or despicable. Just that it seemed every chance she got, Daniella was disparaging Geoff’s physical stamina and sexual expertise. Based upon limited facts Samantha shared with her, Daniella made Geoff the butt of all her jokes. She made fun of his crooked penis. And how he was having to take Viagra far more often these days just to get it up. How Samantha was having to fake orgasms just to get him to stop eating her pussy because he couldn’t begin to do it as well as Daniella. That with age his muscles sagged and his belly became distended. Even his liberal use of Brut allegedly nauseated Samantha. It didn’t seem that there was anything left about him that she wanted, except his money. But of course, Samantha couldn’t let Daniella know the real reason she needed to continue her marriage. Or that none of the disparaged issues bothered her more than slightly.

  Jimmy told Tommy that if he were Geoff and had to listen to all the horrible things Daniella had to say about him he would be livid with rage. That is why Tommy felt the first time Geoff viewed, and listened to, the DVDs should be in the sterile confines of his lawyer’s office. She knew Clayton would argue for Geoff to use Daniella’s damnable statements, and Samantha’s complicity in not defending him, against her. He would be cautioned against taking it so personally. After all, the most important thing should be that Geoff keep his millions from being ripped off by Samantha, right?