by Jim Plautz
I was eager to get back to Florida, but decided to finish out the school year. Part of it was duty, but most of it was because I enjoyed being around the kids so much and didn’t want to miss out on anything. I would never have this opportunity again.
Rosann invited Ray and Susan Wilson to dinner one evening, something we should have done much sooner. We saw them at basketball games and other school events, but had never seen them socially. It was our loss because the four of us had a wonderful evening and I felt a little guilty when I turned the conversation to Matthew. Ray had provided a slight opening when he told a story about his former job in California where he was partner-in-charge of the PriceWaterhouse-Coopers office in Los Angeles.
“You know Ray, I spent a bunch of time with Arthur Anderson here in Milwaukee. Transferring from LA to Milwaukee isn’t really a lateral move in the public accounting profession.”
“I know, but there were a few things going on in Los Angeles and we decided to make the change when we had an opportunity.”
“We are so glad we did,” Susan piped in. Milwaukee is a much better place to raise children and Kelly and Matthew are so happy here.”
“Dessert anyone?” Rosann asked. “Susan, can you help me?” knowing the question I was about to ask.
“Ray, did your transfer have anything to do with some trouble that Matthew was involved in with your brother?” I asked when Ray and I were alone.
Ray hesitated a moment and apparently decided not to bluff his way through. “What did you hear, Jim?”
“Something to do with a misuse of funds in a non-profit company and a deal that was made to avoid prosecution,” I said carefully before deciding to tell him the rest. “The local CIA & FBI offices also mentioned something about a Randy Wolkson who apparently was quite child prodigy in Europe.”
“What did they want from you, Jim?”
“They just asked me to keep an eye on the ‘We Kick Ass’ revenues. That isn’t a problem since I’m on the board of directors anyway. Ray, you know how much Rosann and I think of Matthew. We wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.”
“I know, Jim. Matthew thinks the best of you too and I know he trusts you. Let’s have dessert and Susan and I will tell you a long story about how Matthew changed our lives.” After chocolate cake and ice cream we adjourned to the family room. “Susan, why don’t you begin?”
“It started when we adopted Matthew after his real mother apparently left him on the doorstep of a hospital in Santa Barbara, California. Ray and I were told by two doctors that we couldn’t have children so we jumped at the opportunity to adopt Randy. Two years later the doctors were proven wrong and I became pregnant with Kelly, but we never, for a moment, regretted our decision.”
“How did he wind up in Europe with your brother?”
“That was my biggest mistake,” Ray said. “I put my career ahead of my family. I wasn’t lying when I told you earlier how happy we are that we came to Milwaukee.”
“There were a lot of extenuating circumstances,” Susan said as she explained their decision to let Randy go to Europe with his uncle, Ralph. “You see, Matthew was a precocious child. He walked at six months and was carrying on discussions with adults when he was two. We had him tested and when he was four and his IQ was off the charts. At five he was already demonstrating powers that could only be described as scary.”
“Like what?” Rosann asked as we became engrossed in the story.
“Like the day the baby sitter called and said we had to come home immediately because our house was haunted. Randy apparently had the ability to concentrate and move objects.”
“Kinetic energy, I’ve heard of that. What are we talking about, pencils, glasses and stuff like that?”
“Sure, but he could move furniture. One evening our baby sitter was sitting in a chair watching television when all of a sudden she was sliding across the room. Randy told me later that she wouldn’t play with him.”
“I’m sorry, but I can just envision the look on her face,” Rosann said as she tried not to laugh.
“Or another time,” Susan continued, “he asked our priest if Moses was a prophet or a magician.”
“He is a prophet, young man. Our Lord spoke to him on Mount Sinai.”
“But wasn’t Moses an Egyptian prince that was trained in the ancient arts of sorcery?” Randy responded.
“Keep in mind, he was only five.”
“And that’s just a couple examples,” Ray continued. “Stuff like this happened almost every day. We needed to get him into a special school or something, but we couldn’t afford it. You remember how much a senior accountant makes.”
“Yes, and I also know the hours that are required,” I said recalling the 80-hour weeks that were standard bill of fare in the public accounting profession.
“That’s right, and I was working too,” Susan added. “We just didn’t have time to give Randy the attention he needed.”
“Then my brother comes to visit for a month and offered to take Randy back to Europe with them. It seemed like the perfect solution. Ralph had the time and Europe seemed like a good place for Randy to broaden his education. It appeared to be working out well for the first couple years. He became fluent in ten languages by the time he was eight and thrived on the history of the region. As you probably know, Matthew has a photographic memory and can read, and memorize a 1,000 page history book in hours.”
I didn’t doubt what Ray was saying. It explained a lot.
“Unfortunately, Ray’s brother couldn’t resist trying to make a quick buck off of Randy’s abilities, and that’s what got them in trouble with the authorities. Ralph and his wife, Terry disappeared and they sent Randy back to us.”
“What happened in California?” I asked. “Was your brother still involved?”
“Indirectly,” Ray answered vaguely. “Ralph and Terry had made some bad enemies in Europe that caught up with Randy in California. They couldn’t find my brother, but they knew where Randy was and were determined to recover their losses. I was afraid to go to the police.”
“Ray wanted to,” Susan said, holding Ray’s hand, “but I convinced him not to. They told me that they would hurt Kelly if we went to the authorities.”
“Anyway, Randy continued to use his skills to help people and started to earn quite a bit of money. I set up the non-profit organization and siphoned off a couple hundred thousand dollars a year to keep the Russians away from Randy and Kelly. I rationalized that we were still doing a lot of good with the rest of the money, but I knew deep down it was wrong. I never told Randy what we were doing.”
“When the IRS offered us a deal we jumped at the opportunity to get a fresh start. We changed Randy’s name to Matthew Wilson and here we are.”
“That’s quite a story,” I said, still doubting that Matthew would not catch on to what was happening around him. He was too smart. “Well, now I understand better why the CIA came to us in the first place; they want to make sure the ‘kick ass’ revenues are used for non-profit purposes.”
“Are they still out there?” Rosann wondered.
“Who?
“The Russian mafia.”
“We haven’t heard from them since we moved, but every day we pray they don’t find us. I’m sure they still believe Randy owes them money.”
Good luck, I thought. The Russians would have to be deaf and dumb not to realize that Randy Wolkson and Matthew Wilson are the same person.
Chapter 18 - Hostages
