by David Harp
Chapter 40
The Blind Assassin
As Haley listened to Claude describe John Weston’s death, she remembered her own devastation when her father died.
“It must have been difficult for J. Alfred to loose his father so unexpectedly. I was almost twice his age when Ben died and I knew what killed him, but I still cry sometimes.”
Claude nodded supportively and said, “I think J. Alfred’s childhood ended that day. He became a determined detective.”
“Did he find out if his father was murdered or who did it?” Haley asked.
Claude answered, “He has never stopped looking for answers.” Then Claude continued the story.
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The director of the Archbold Biological Station was so troubled by John’s death that he paid for the funeral expenses and to have the body shipped home. He even purchased train tickets to New Haven for Noreen, Alfred, Liz, and Claude. Although the Weston family stayed at the Biological Station for less than two days, Liz and Noreen had become instant friends. Claude felt a curious sense of guilt for John’s death and an obligation to stay close if Alfred needed a father-figure.
The funeral turnout was quite large with many students and most of the Yale faculty in attendance. Noreen, who was known for her cheerful and bubbly temperament, cried without ceasing. Many people didn’t recognize her with the red face, swollen eyes, and a miserable expression.
Liz helped with the funeral arrangements and answered people’s questions regarding John’s death. Claude kept Alfred busy and assisted with legal paperwork. It was at the funeral that little Alfred became J. Alfred.
While standing in the receiving line, Alfred looked over at the casket and said, “He isn’t coming back this time is he Mommy?”
Noreen felt her legs tremble. She nearly collapsed, but managed to answer between sniffles, “No, you are the man of the house now.” She instantly regretted her words.
“Mommy, you can call me John,” Alfred said bravely. (He was named after his father, but his middle name had been used to avoid confusion.)
Noreen winced. She realized Alfred was trying to take his father’s place, as if he was not allowed to be a child any longer.
“Why don’t we compromise sweetheart? We will call you J. Alfred. ‘J.’ in honor of your father, and Alfred because you have your own life to live.” Noreen believed Alfred would soon drop the extra initial from his name, but from that day forward he insisted everyone call him J. Alfred Weston.
Liz went back to Archbold the following week, but Claude stayed in New Haven to conduct research at Yale and check on Noreen. His initial infatuation with Noreen quickly grew more serious. Claude was like a second father to J. Alfred, and the relationship became official when Noreen agreed to his proposal after a two-year courtship. Noreen gave birth to a daughter one year later. They named her Samantha.
Claude owned over two thousand acres in Florida and wanted to move his new family to the site of his discovery. He was not prepared to make his findings public, so he covered the dome with dirt and built a house over the top by laying the foundation himself.
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Claude had avoided suspicion when he purchased the original two-acre site by saying the land was for a hunting cabin. He received a substantial inheritance a year later in 1931 and used the money to purchase an additional two thousand acres. The depression had brought growth in the area to a standstill, so the logging company was happy to accept the offer without questions.
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In 1950, Claude, Noreen, J. Alfred and Samantha moved into the house built over the archaeological site. It was located three-hundred yards from the Tree of Life.
During the move, Noreen found a box John left in the attic. It was marked conspiracy files. She asked Claude to take a look to make sure it was not something important before throwing it out.
A scribbled note in the margin caught Claude’s attention. It read, “blind man, black cape, bowler hat.” He remembered Alfred’s description of the man in the garden who bumped into John.
It probably isn’t anything, he thought, but decided to keep the box and read the files later.
The house in Highlands county Florida was very isolated, so J. Alfred and Samantha were home-schooled. Noreen and Claude shared tutoring duties and Miss Shelby came once a week to help. The children were both excellent students, but J. Alfred had an extraordinary aptitude for business.
Claude was searching for a way to make history lessons more interesting for J. Alfred soon after his fourteenth birthday. John’s conspiracy files contained detailed notes on several significant historical events, so Claude gave them to J. Alfred to study. He asked him to make a comparison between his father’s records and the history in his text books.
It was exciting for J. Alfred. The notes were his father’s private writings, and the allure of intrigue was irresistible. He quickly uncovered a conspiracy within a conspiracy, and this one was personal.
After a month of studying the files and conducting in-depth research of his own, young J. Alfred was ready to make his presentation to Claude. He prepared the room for a formal production with charts, graphs, copies of documents, and even handwritten transcripts of his father’s interview of a witness.
“My father was murdered,” he announced, “and I know who did it, well sort of.”
Claude squirmed in his seat, realizing it may have been a mistake to give J. Alfred his father’s personal records. Reliving his father’s death could be harmful to the boy, but Claude let him continue.
“He was six-feet two, the same as my dad and carried a long walking stick. He wore a black cape, a bowler hat, and dark sunglasses.”
Claude remembered why he kept the files. That was the description J. Alfred had given of the man in the garden the day of John’s death.
“O.K. then,” Claude told him. “You need to explain a few things:
1. Why can’t you accept the official death certificate since Eastern Coral Snake venom is consistent with your father’s symptoms?
2. How did the man manage to carry out the act in the brief moment he passed you on the trail?
3. Who was the man and what was his motive to kill your father?”
J. Alfred began to methodically present his case.
“Two people who are experienced in poisonous snake bites have said the puncture wounds on my father’s ankle didn’t look like those of a Coral Snake. Even the doctor who signed the death certificate admitted the docile and secretive Coral Snake doesn’t strike like other venomous snakes; they need time to inject their venom. He also said no more than twenty percent of untreated Coral Snake bites are fatal, even after a sustained strike. Finally, three times the typical amount of venom was injected into my father.”
Then J. Alfred showed Claude numerous pictures of poison tipped canes. They were from different sources confirming similar instruments had been used to commit assassinations in the past.
One particular passage from A History of Murder, by Thomas Rosol read, “The weapon of choice for assassins of the Manchu dynasty was a poison tipped staff. The poison could be injected from the tip of the staff into a victim’s foot or leg in an instant, allowing the attacker to escape without detection.” Another passage indicated the injection marks were sometimes mistaken for a snake bite.
Claude admitted it was possible for someone to poison John in that manner, but noted the Manchu dynasty ended forty years in the past. He asked, “Are you suggesting a Chinese assassin killed your father?”
“I’m just showing you how it could have been done,” J. Alfred replied. “My father’s conspiracy documents answer a lot of questions. There are numerous files where he mentions a man similar to the one I saw at Archbold. That can’t just be a coincidence.”
J. Alfred laid out several files on the table. The first two described a shadowy person who wore a black cape and carried a long staff.
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“The Order of the Illuminati were said to have met regularly with a man matching the description in 1777, and it has been documented that a similar man asked Cecil Rhodes to establish the Society of the Elect in 1877 to extend British rule throughout the world.”
Claude was slightly irritated with J. Alfred’s history lesson which seemed to have little to do with John’s death. He tried to get the boy back on track.
“Now you are being silly. Those people died a long time ago.”
“I know, I know,” J. Alfred conceded. “But I also found two more recent cases. In each of those, the man matched the description exactly including the bowler hat.”
Claude released a heavy sigh and said reluctantly, “go ahead.” J. Alfred eagerly continued.
“Before passage of the Federal Reserve Act in 1913, two senators on the banking committee had a secret meeting with a man matching the description of the person I believe murdered my father. Several sources stated the final version of the Act was changed after that meeting. The altered version gave twelve privately owned banks legal authority to issue money, but most of the government oversight was removed.”
Claude was growing impatient.
“What does any of this have to do with John’s death?”
“My father was getting close to identifying the people who secretly changed the Federal Reserve Act. Those changes gave a few private bankers control of the U.S. money supply. That would make them the most powerful people on the planet. I believe they murdered him to prevent the information from getting out.”
J. Alfred pointed to John’s handwritten interview notes.
“My father interviewed the only known surviving witness to the secret meeting. The man was one of two reporters who observed the participants entering and leaving the building. He told my father the other reporter died one week after revealing the meeting in an article for the Washington Star-News. The official cause of death was a Copperhead snake-bite, but he didn’t believe it.”
John Weston’s hand-written notes quoted the man saying, my friend was murdered. J. Alfred presented Claude with an obituary which identified the cause of death as snake-bite, but a separate clipping questioned that conclusion. It read, the Copperhead is rarely seen in the D.C. metropolitan area and there have no fatalities in the past fifty years.
“My father’s notes say it was very difficult to get the surviving witness to agree to an interview. He was afraid for his life, demanded anonymity, and told my father that anyone who learned of the meeting would be in danger.”
“But why was John a threat to these people?” Claude asked.
“He published an article and was working on a follow-up.” J. Alfred responded. “I found a letter in his files from the editor of Intrigue Magazine. It was dated one month before his death. They offered to pay him for the second half of an article titled The Federal Reserve Conspiracy.”
“Did you find the completed story?”
J. Alfred handed Claude a copy of the article his father had written. It linked the 1913 Federal Reserve Act with the alleged 1933 conspiracy to overthrow President Roosevelt.
“The one thing both cases have in common is a person called the blind assassin. He was described as tall, wearing a cloak, bowler hat, dark glasses, and carrying a blind man’s cane. That is the man who killed my father!”
“Let’s not make any hasty conclusions,” Claude said softly as he put his arm around J. Alfred. “The part about him being blind makes sense, but I don’t understand why he was called the assassin?”
“It gets complicated,” J. Alfred sniffled.
“I don’t see how it can get much more confusing, but go ahead,” Claude said.
J. Alfred took a deep breath and continued his presentation.
“The name ‘blind assassin’ came from the 1933 story describing a plot to overthrow President Roosevelt. The failed coup d'état was supposed to be non-violent, but Senator Babson exposed the plan when one of the people involved wanted to kill the President. He said the strange man in a cape with dark glasses was a demented psychopath eager to commit murder.”
“The evidence still sounds rather flimsy to justify the murder of your father,” Claude said.
J. Alfred handed him a picture which was attached to the article. It was tattered, but showed the senior Senator on the Banking Committee in 1913 entering the building where the clandestine meeting was held. He was shaking hands with an unknown man who was wearing a cape, a bowler hat, dark glasses, and carrying a long cane.
“This might be the trigger,” Claude admitted. “If the magazine knew about this photo, it is possible others knew. Your father may have been killed to stop it from being published.”
Claude gathered the documents to put them in a secure location.
“We don’t know who to trust so I don’t think we should go to the police. I will see what I can uncover on my own.”
