Velvet Mafia

by Lydia L Watts

  As much as he wanted to stay calm, Yeager was beside himself. When he wasn’t on the phone yelling at someone for the breach of unspoken protocol and threatening to get even, he was yelling at Racine or his people as they carried brown bag after brown bag out of his house. And by now, Racine was getting his share of calls, too, many of which were from the people Yeager had called.

  “Commander Racine speaking.”

  “Hello, Commander, this is Councilman Jeffries. I hope I didn’t catch you at an awkward time, but I am calling because I have some information about Taylor DuBois’s murder and I want to know if we can get together today and talk.”

  Not knowing what to expect, Racine stepped outside to take the call. The last thing he wanted was Yeager knowing that while executing the warrant on him, he was on the phone with Jeffries.

  “I would love to talk, Councilman, but right now, I’m in the middle of police business,” Racine replied. “Can you tell me now what it is you want to talk about?”

  Somewhat hesitant but realizing that time was of essence, Jeffries acquiesced. “I have information on the rug Taylor was found wrapped in. In fact, I believe I know who owns it or at least used to own it.”

  “How do you have this information?” Racine asked.

  “Because the rug was a gift to a council member,” Jeffries replied.

  Jeffries had definitely said enough to pique Racine’s curiosity. “So, if you knew this, why did you take so long to report it?” Racine asked.

  “It took me some time to figure out what I knew,” Jeffries explained. “When I saw the officers carrying the rug out of Taylor’s home on TV, I knew then I’d seen the rug but I just couldn’t place where. Then it dawned on me that the rug was an anonymous gift to a council member. Since the rug was sent anonymously, he couldn’t claim it as his personal property for one year. So it stayed in the custody and control of the council security office.”

  “How do you know so much about the rug?” Racine asked.

  “That’s what I am trying to tell you,” Jeffries said with frustration. “I had oversight of the council security office that year and I had to sign off on the rug after the year had lapsed.”

  “Okay, so what member are you referring to?” Racine asked.

  “Guy Yeager,” Jeffries said, exhaling.

  “Are you sure?” Racine replied, now turning to face Yeager’s house.

  “Absolutely positive.”

  “Okay, Councilman,” Racine said as he continued to watch the activity taking place at Yeager’s home. “Thanks for bringing this information forward. I promise to look into it, but right now, I must go.”

  Racine clicked off his cell phone and headed back to the house. Once inside, Racine could see that Yeager was agitated. Some agitation was expected, especially since they had a warrant to search his home. But Yeager seemed more agitated since Racine had stepped outside to take the call.

  “Commander?” Yeager said in an authoritative manner. “You are running this circus, aren’t you? Where have you been? It is one thing to march into my home with a warrant and search it, but it’s another thing to do so while leaving these Neanderthals in here unsupervised. Is that how DC’s finest conducts searches? No wonder your department has so many lawsuits against it. This is just ridiculous.”

  Trying not to look amused, Racine just listened. He knew that if he said anything, Yeager would just continue his rants and ravings. Plus, he was still thinking about the phone conversation and whether his first inclination had been correct. The first time he had met with Yeager at his home, the councilman had not wanted him near his den. Now, with the search warrant, he had access and from the looks of everything, the only place in Yeager’s home large enough to accommodate a rug the size of the one that had held Taylor’s body was his den.

  By the time his team was ready to search the den, Racine was ready to join in. So far, they had nothing incriminating and Racine knew it.

  “Commander, what are you looking for?”

  Keenly aware of what was about to happen, Racine replied with determination, “We won’t know until we find it.” Then he opened the door to the den. Not knowing what he would see, he was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by the morning sun helping every inch of the room tell a story — including the story he had hoped it would tell.

  The den had a secret. The dust ring on the floor spoke volumes while the footprints suggested cover-up. In addition to the rug, something else was missing. Something must have sat in front of the large windows; for a brief moment, Racine stood still and imagined. To a stranger, he looked as if he were soaking in the sun with his eyes closed. But those who knew him knew he was picturing the room before tragedy had set in.

  “What a beautiful room, Councilman,” Racine said as Yeager stood at the door with his arms crossed. “If I had a room like this, I would start my day here. Sitting in my favorite chair with a cup of coffee, just soaking in the sun. This has to be the best view overlooking Rock Creek Park. So how long have you lived here?”

  Yeager didn’t say a thing. Instead, he walked away, leaving Racine and his team in the room.

  As Racine continued to evaluate his surroundings, he saw what Yeager and his accomplices had obviously missed. Behind where a chair had surely once sat were small traces of blood on the curtains, window, and floorboards. As Racine moved closer to look at the splatter, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Caught in the hem of the curtain was a cell phone. Without showing any emotion, Racine pulled out a copy of Taylor’s private number. He then dialed the number and watched as the phone in Yeager’s den began to vibrate.

  As usual, whenever Eli met with the Others, he did so at a location undisclosed until the last minute, usually an abandoned church or other building somewhere off the beaten path where they could get in and out unnoticed. Eli had been part of the Velvet Mafia for close to twenty years and had risen through the ranks. Yet, despite his loyalty and his successful missions, he had never crossed over, an initiation he had lobbied for, for several years. Despite his desire, he knew the Others saw his services as being limited to being the hired gun. He was a man with blood on his hands and as such, he would never have the coveted distinction of knowing the identity of the Others.

  When Eli arrived at the meeting, he was immediately drawn to the audience. Unlike his reports on other missions at which two or three Elders had been present, this was different. All thirteen Elders were present at the table. In all the years Eli had been asked to do their bidding, he had never witnessed a full council. And just the sight of the full body made him feel ferociously anxious. There, before him, sat the most powerful and pernicious men and women in the world. Eli knew, just by virtue of the fact that the entire body was present, this meeting would change his life.

  So, instead of showing the fear that sat uncomfortably in the pit of his consciousness, he started to observe more closely his surroundings in hopes of determining whether there were any ceremonial familiarities. If so, his mind would be more at ease. The full body made Eli feel uncomfortable and he needed some reassurance. He was looking for something, anything, that mimicked a meeting of the past, one from which he would get up and walk away.

  Before Eli could identify any familiarities, he had to wait until his eyes were fully acclimated to the darkness in the room. Eli knew he was in a strange place but eventually, the game would begin. Once seated, he would wait for permission to speak and once permission was granted, he would tell the Elders what he knew about Yeager’s activities. After they heard the evidence, they would render a decision and tell him what they wanted him to do.

  “Brother Edelstein, it is so nice of you to join us,” one of the Elders said. “I take it you have the information we requested?”

  “Yes, Elder,” Eli said. “Permission to go on.”

  “Yes, you may speak,” the Elder said.

  Eli told the Others what he knew about Yeager’s affairs, including that he had recently commissioned a hit on his senior advisor. He explain
ed that time had not allowed him to determine what the connection was among Yeager, Cardosa, and Blake Jones, but he was actively involved in a strategy that he believed would net the results they sought.

  “Thank you for the update, Brother Edelstein. Is there anything else you have to report?”

  “Why, yes, there is,” he said. “I do have one more agenda item. Permission to speak?”

  “Permission granted.”

  “I have not received any instruction from you regarding the captive. Is it your wish that she remain a captive, or is it time to set her free?”

  “That’s a very good question, Brother,” the Elder said. “And believe it or not, your question has a lot to do with why you are here today in front of the full body. Your services to the Velvet Mafia are needed more today than they ever have been, and your captive is critical to our outcome.”

  “What outcome is that, Elder?” Eli asked.

  “The world as we know it is changing, Brother, and we have had a hand in much of the change. We continue to want to exact a more perfect union and we believe that that perfect union is available to us. As we gain strides in controlling the world’s population, we will be in a better place to initiate a one-world currency as well as a one-world religion, two critical requirements for a perfect utopia. However, our efforts have encountered a slight problem. It has come to our attention that our biological weapon has a flaw in its design.”

  “A flaw?” Eli said. “I was under the impression that the weapon was doing exactly what you intended for it to do. Now there are over 33 million people infected and most of them are brown and Black women of childbearing age. Isn’t that what you wanted to do?”

  “Yes, Brother, it is. But there is a problem with the weapon’s design leaving us all vulnerable.”

  “I see. So what is it you want me to do, Elder, and what does our captive have to do with all this?”

  “There is an antidote being prepared as we speak,” the Elder said. “We want you to get the antidote and the formula, and we want you to use your captive as the bait.”

  “As bait,” Eli said. “Who are we trying to catch?”

  “Agent Teddy Alexander. And we want to use your captive’s husband to kill her. Lance St. John, along with Dr. Isabella Cardosa, was instrumental in developing the biological weapon. He is now working with Dr. Basil Rhodes and Teddy Alexander on the antidote. This antidote will protect those not infected with the weapon and it can cure those infected with the weapon. So, you see, this is a very powerful antidote and it needs to be under our control.”

  “I mean no disrespect, Elder, but how do you know what the antidote will do if it hasn’t been fully created yet?”

  “She told us. We always knew we needed Dr. Cardosa to confirm our suspicions and once she did, we had you do what you do. However, what we didn’t count on was that Dr. Cardosa would hide her research and her findings before she could share what she knew with Lance. She knew Lance would be the only person who could help her. Unfortunately, we disposed of her too soon. We assumed we had some time. You see, Brother, we created a weapon that was based on people’s behaviors, but, when the weapon changed its molecular structure and began to take on the distinctiveness of other viruses, it had evolved into a weapon with the propensity to harm anyone with a compromised immune system.

  “We knew then that we needed somehow to link Teddy Alexander and Lance St. John. We also needed Alexander to lead us to Cardosa’s research and Lance to decipher her research in order to create the antidote. However, after you disposed of Cardosa, Teddy went underground for several years. So, we had to devise a plan to bring her back into the fold, as well as bring her closer to Lance St. John.”

  The Elder continued. “The plan was easy because before Cardosa died, she contacted several elected officials about her findings and shared with them that HIV was a biological weapon. However, at that time, none of the officials took her accusations seriously. Sure, she was a renowned scientist and an expert in her field. But, by then, everybody believed what we had led them to believe: HIV was the cause of AIDS and people who acquired the disease had done so because of their vile lifestyles and behaviors. We also knew that since many were beginning their political careers, they would never step out against the establishment. It would have been political suicide, a risk none were willing to take. But Cardosa was smarter than we had originally thought. By that time, she had put all the pieces together — including the fact that everyone associated with the FSA program, with the exception of Lance and her — were dead, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she too met her demise.

  “So she sent Stonegill, Hartman, and Whitherspoon the same correspondence outlining her theory, including the type of antidote needed to eradicate the weapon. She then carbon-copied each one of them so that they would know who else she had informed. In her letter, she explained everything, including that she was instrumental in developing the weapon through the FSA program. She went on to say that she could prove the disease had been manufactured and funded by the US government, and that there was a flaw in the weapon’s design which eventually would result in a higher rate of morbidity and mortality.”

  Eli’s silence was telling. Things were finally coming together for him. But he needed to make sure his assumptions were correct. And he had to do so without alienating the Elders with his questions.

  “Again, Elder, I mean no disrespect,” Eli said. “Everything you have shared with me is, as I am sure you know, over my head and I just want to make sure I understand what it is you want me to know. So, are you saying that, when you had me dispose of Senator Stonegill, Mayor Hartman, and Mayor Whitherspoon, you did so solely because Dr. Cardosa had warned them about the weapon eight years earlier?”

  The Elder responded with caution, painstakingly choosing his words. He knew Eli was doing what Eli did so well: hunting. To the others, his question may have seemed appropriate. But, as his handler, the Elder knew differently. Eli had the intellectual capital to make him a threat and his handler knew he was more than simply a hired hand. But, since the room was filled with the entire council, he had to maintain his composure.

  “Yes,” the Elder said. “You have to realize that when Stonegill, Hartman, and Whitherspoon were first warned by Cardosa, the climate was not conducive for them to challenge the origin of the disease. However, as time passed and the world’s landscape started to change as a result of the weapon’s impact, the three — Stonegill, Hartman, and Whitherspoon — started individually to question the origin of HIV within their own political circles. Whitherspoon even entertained a conversation with Dr. Rhodes, the leader of the dissident movement, regarding his analysis.

  “Shortly after Whitherspoon’s meeting with Rhodes, he contacted Stonegill and Hartman about Cardosa’s letter and his concerns. At that time, the District of Columbia boasted the highest rate of HIV infection in the country and he assumed that if Cardosa had also sent the letter to Stonegill and Hartman, they would be his allies. And he was right. The three of them started to share their beliefs and concerns among themselves because they all had similar stories. New Jersey and Chicago, like DC, had started to see more and more casualties, with the infection rate soaring primarily among Black and brown women and injection drug users.”

  “So you see, Brother Eli,” the Elder said, “Stonegill, Hartman, and Whitherspoon were disposed of because they knew too much and they had the resources and political clout to raise concern without putting their careers in jeopardy. Also, at that time, the public was raising concern. The rate of infection had exploded and women of childbearing age were being hit the hardest. In fact, the most prevailing thought was that it was no longer a gay disease and since it was no longer a gay disease, many believed resources should have been diverted. But to divert the resources before the full gay agenda had been realized would have been detrimental to our cause. Moreover, if everything would have happened the way Dr. Cardosa tried to orchestrate it, it would have been a perfect storm. To this day, the onl
y thing we can’t figure out is why Dr. Cardosa picked Stonegill, Hartman, and Whitherspoon to inform.”

  “I get all that,” Edelstein said, forgetting protocol, “but I still don’t understand how the disposal of Whitherspoon and the others helped you get Agent Alexander involved in your scheme.”

  Feeling even more perturbed at Eli’s question and attitude, the Elder refrained from grimacing. He had already taken too much time as it was explaining what should have been a simple direct order. But, since he had granted Eli permission to ask a question, he was required by Order rules to allow the conversation to continue.

  So despite his frustration, the Elder continued. “That’s just it. These were high-ranking officials — murdered. Their murders were just the right incentive to make Agent Alexander come out of seclusion. Her career as a world-renowned sleuth was based on the fact that she didn’t solve ordinary crimes; she solved those crimes that warranted media attention. We knew that since these were elected officials, the FBI would have jurisdiction. Once we got her out of seclusion and involved in the cases, we began to manipulate the crime scenes by using an inside man to place clues at each one, clues only Agent Alexander would recognize — clues deliberately related to the death of her lover, Dr. Cardosa.”

  “Brilliant,” Edelstein said, as if it were up to him to comment on the effectiveness of the Others’ plan. “But I have one more question. Why didn’t you have me dispose of Lance St. John? Wasn’t he part of the FSA initiative?”

  “Yes, Brother, he was part of the initiative,” the Elder said. “But we needed him, especially considering that we disposed of Dr. Cardosa too soon. Lance wasn’t on your FSA disposal list with all the other scientists because, when we found out the weapon had the propensity to go rogue, we knew he would be the only person with the knowledge and skills needed to deconstruct the weapon, and to fix it.”