by William Cain
He presses his luck, “You look awfully warm and beautiful today, Charlotte.”
She turns over in bed and tells him, knowing that he wants sex, “Thank you, Eddie. I think you’ll like Ken, and I hope he likes you. It’s pretty important you make a good impression. Will you take pictures?”
“Of course!” Charlotte looks into Edwin’s eyes. He smells money. “This is going to be epic. I’ll meet him and maybe grab a bite together, and we’ll bond over lunch. You’ll see, we’ll be partners together. When I tell him about you and what a fox you are, I know he’ll want to meet you too! ASAP.”
Charlotte is oozing with self-worth, lapping up the compliment. She looks outside through the sheers that cover their master bedroom window, “Make sure you show him a pic of me? Make it a good one.”
“They’re all good, are you kidding me?”
“I think the storm clouds are beginning to gather. Later today we’re having heavy rains, lightning, thunder,” she advises.
He looks at her longingly, and she reaches inside his pajamas, finding his manhood. He breathes deeply and, despite her best attempt, very little reaction surfaces. “I guess all that medication you’re on isn’t helping, is it? Maybe it’s the anticipation of meeting Ken Jones.” And she withdraws, leaves the bed, and heads to the bathroom to wash her hands of him.
Disappointed, Edwin does the same and tries not to meet her judgmental eyes. It’s the first time in years that she’s shown any interest in having anything that looks like sex. He just can’t perform any longer. It’s his age, his weight, his drinking, everything. Shit. He looks like a huge, pale, white beach ball on two sticks, with wasps of silver curly hair barely noticeable at the top of his round, red face. It’s over, and he knows it, and he resolves to salvage what little dignity he has by meeting Reggi’s fiancé and inserting himself as Ken’s new friend.
He thinks he’ll take the Jaguar out to Ken’s home. That’s impressive. It’s a twelve-cylinder, a vintage model. If anything, it’s important to establish with Ken Jones that Edwin is a serious man, a man with means, and to garner his respect. They’re not afar in age, and it’s very possible they’ll be the best of friends. Reggi asked him and Charlotte to arrive earlier than everyone else before her wedding ceremony—it’s in a few months—to carry out some important family honor. They’re both looking forward to that and especially excited about today. Sometimes the unknowns can bring even more enthusiasm to the front than anything else. Who knows what today will hold?
The future has never been brighter.
◆◆◆
As Edwin takes the short drive to Heritage Hills, he’s amusing himself, thinking about his first meeting with Ken Jones in his head. The Jaguar is quietly playing mood music as it grumbles along the interstate. Occasionally, a light rain passes overhead, foretelling of the storm that is just over the western horizon. It’s supposed to be a big one, and Edwin wants to meet Ken while it’s still dry out. Then it’s back to the warm safety of home before the thunderheads arrive. As he comes nearer and nearer to Heritage Hills, he feels his stomach twisting in anticipation of meeting this legendary man, Ken Jones, and Edwin’s hoping to live up to his expectations. He doesn’t want to disappoint.
◆◆◆
Battaglia opens the email he received from Roger this morning. It has an attachment labeled: DIAVirginiaEileenPaulson19760514. He pauses for a moment to read the message from Roger. He’s telling Gen that he has only sent this to him. It’s sensitive stuff, and if Gen forwards it to Gangi, then to please make sure it doesn’t get any further. He doesn’t want it traced back to himself, in Chicago. He had to really dig to get it, and his sources would be blown if it comes back to him. Gen understands and replies with his assurances that it won’t go further, Gen’s eyes only. He signs the reply as Gennarro B, and off it goes.
Then he opens the attachment. It’s a dismissal in case of adjournment, a DIA, concerning Virginia Paulson, from Reggi’s first marriage. Once the individual completes his or her treatment, or complies with the plea’s terms, the case is sealed, and the record is expunged of the offense. As he opens the attachment, he finds it to be lengthy and wordy. It takes a while to find the arresting officers’ testaments and when he does, his eyes pay full attention. He rereads the two pages four or five times. When he stops reading the testaments, he finishes the entire document quickly, finding nothing else of value, and he returns to the testaments and reads them again. When he’s done, he hangs his head, turning away from the monitor, and he begins to cry. Quietly at first, then it turns to be uncontrollable. His chest is heaving between gasps for air and he slams his fist down onto the table. Over and over, until he’s spent, and a determined rage fills him. He suddenly has become very dangerous, this Gennarro Battaglia. He assumes his embodiment of a controlled, focused, instrument of death that he uses when purpose is before him.
Gen looks at his cell and picks it up. He needs to call Gangi and, as he does so, the doorbell rings. Gen’s in a room deep inside the rear of the house. He stands and puts his switchblade into his trousers. Some habits die hard. He leaves the room, the attachment from Roger still visible on the monitor.
Instead of taking the trip to look at the video feed from the front door camera, he decides to answer it. Whoever it is will be asked to return later or simply turned away. He stops to look at himself in the mirror of the nearest bathroom, brushes back his hair, and blows his nose, then continues on to the door and opens it. His first thoughts are surprise and his second thoughts are about fate. Fate has dropped this into his lap, this visitor, and he quickly decides exactly what he’ll do.
“Hello, are you Edwin?” he asks, smiling that fake smile. He remembers the pictures of Edwin and Charlotte from the original work-up that Roger did. Let’s face it, not too many people look like Edwin. And as he recalls the photograph of him and Charlotte together, Gen couldn’t help thinking that they made a very odd couple. He even finds Edwin indelibly printed in his mind. Very strange-looking man.
“I am well! Thank you!” Edwin tells him enthusiastically while holding out his hand, “I am really pleased to meet you, Ken!”
Ken looks at the proffered hand and lightly slaps it aside, “That won’t do. We’re going to be family soon!” Ken steps forward to embrace Edwin, who is plainly more than pleased at Ken’s warmth and inviting hug, thinking, this is already going well, and Edwin finds himself immensely satisfied over his plan to come here and meet Ken Jones.
Ken, looking at the skies, tells Edwin, “Bring your car into the garage. That way, when you leave, you won’t get wet. Don’t worry, it’s a big garage. It has a lot of space.”
After the car is put away and the garage door closes, Ken beckons him, “Come in, Edwin. Let’s talk awhile.” Ken motions for Edwin to follow him. Looking over his shoulder, he remarks, “I’m assuming you’re here as a follow-up to my having met your brother-in-law last week.”
At that, Edwin is a little disappointed that Frank didn’t tell him about meeting Ken Jones. It kind of takes the novelty out of meeting him now, not being the first to see him, but it doesn’t deter him. He’ll be the bigger person and see it through, thinking, my character is stronger than that. Ken will see me for who I am.
As they walk to the living room and sit down next to each other on the long couch, Ken is thinking and looking Edwin over, this prick believes I’m his cash cow. He’s here to ingratiate himself as my buddy. Reggi’s convinced her entire family I’m marrying her, and then Edwin here will have access to my fortune. It’ll be exactly what he needs to get out of debt. He’s desperate. Ken smiles at Edwin, who smiles back.
“Nasty storm coming today,” Edwin comments.
He wants to talk about the weather, what an idiot, Jones mulls, then tells him, “Not to worry, Edwin, you’re safe here. My house is your house.” Ken can tell Edwin’s about to cream his jeans.
“Mind if I call you Ed?” he asks.
“Not at all, my close friends call me Ed or Eddie, an
d you can too,” he eagerly tells Ken.
“Can I show you around? This home is really something. I designed it myself,” which is a lie, and they both stand. With Ken leading the way, they make it to the atrium that’s in the middle of the house. Edwin whistles, seeing that it’s three floors tall, with a palm tree in the middle that’s seated on a small, sandy island at the bottom, on the first floor below, dotted with smaller trees. Looking outwards beyond the palm tree, Edwin sees the hilltops of the Smoky Mountains and is embarrassingly envious of Ken Jones’s wealth. The view is unparalleled, it’s sweeping. This isn’t a home, it’s a mansion. From the front it appears to be a simple, sprawling ranch. From the inside, it’s four floors of opulence. This had to cost over one hundred million to build. It’s more money than Edwin ever dreamed of having access to.
Ken lets this little shit take all of it in, thinking, if I could read minds I’d say Ed here is putting a dollar figure on this house and he is deeply impressed. He’s also thinking what he’ll do once he has access to all that money. I don’t even have to be a mind reader. His thoughts are clearly obvious. Wow.
Ken tells Ed, “You like? C’mon, I’ll take you down to the bottom, then we’ll take the elevator up.”
“You have an elevator?” Edwin is almost tongue-tied, and he follows Ken.
When they’re done, they arrive back on the top floor and head to the living room again. When each has taken a seat on the couch, like before, Edwin remarks, “This is a beautiful home, Ken. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, Ed, ask away.” He wants to see how far Ed will go and decides to really creep him out. Ken’s going to enjoy this.
“Is this where they found your wife?” Ed asks, pointing to the rug in front of them.
Ken looks at Ed, and Ken’s fake smile has left his face. Edwin stares back, somewhat unsure of what will come next. After a brief pause, Ken places his hand high up on Ed’s thigh, and, squeezing it, he asks, “Who’s ‘they’?”
Edwin is taken off guard. While staring at Ken’s hand, he stammers, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend?”
Ken removes his hand slowly, gently stroking Edwin’s thigh as he pulls it away. Ken assumes the smile again, and Edwin is put at ease, for now. “Hey Ed, want to do a few lines of cocaine?”
Edwin doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t expect to hear that from Ken in a million years, and he replies meekly, “It’s a little too early, don’t you think?” Inwardly, he’s worried that snorting cocaine might be fun, but he doesn’t want to have a heart attack.
“Aw, c’mon, Eddie.” Jones leans over to the end table, opens the drawer, and removes a silver box. Flipping open the lid, he pulls out a bag of white powder, a short silver straw, a mirror, and a razor blade. He begins to pour out some coke onto the mirror and forms two heavy lines around a couple of inches long. He spies from the corner of his eye that Edwin is watching him and he doesn’t know what to say or how to get out of this. Handing Ed the straw, Ken smiles and says, “You first, you’re my guest.”
Ed takes the silver straw and, seeing no recourse, leans over to put the dust up his nose. It’s a pretty heavy line, and when he finishes, he sneezes loudly. Ken laughs and snorts his line also and there they are, two men bonding over cocaine as future in-laws.
Their conversation eventually turns to family as Ken tells Ed, “Reggi is a fine woman, I’m fortunate to have met her. Can I tell you a secret, Ed?”
Ed nods, and Ken draws out more lines. “The sex with Reggi is out of this world. She does everything,” Ken tells him, leering naughtily, noticing Edwin’s response. “You ever had sex with your mother-in-law, Ed?”
Ed gives Ken a strange look. “I don’t think like that, Ken. It never crossed my mind,” and he shudders a little.
“Well, you should give it your consideration, my man. She is wild. She’s also told me she fantasizes about you a lot.” He places his hand on Edwin’s thigh again and begins to rub it. “I’m thinking about joining a private men’s club in Asheville. Some of the guys call it the Little Boys Club. You heard of it, Ed?”
Edwin’s face registers shock, that’s his boys club.
Ken knows Ed’s a member there and he decides to turn it up a notch. While his hand is still on Edwin’s thigh, he tells him, “I feel like having sex.” He’s looking directly into Edwin’s eyes. Ken reads his thoughts and knows Edwin is totally freaked out. But, before Edwin can turn and run out of there, he tells him, “You know, if you have the money, you can get anything, any time of day.” He takes his hand off Edwin’s thigh, picks up his cell, and dials a number. When it’s answered, Ken stands up and takes a few steps away. Speaking quietly into the phone so Edwin can’t hear, he places his order and then he returns to the couch.
Ken decides to let up on Edwin a little. The best is yet to come. They return to making small talk and do a few more lines. After some time passes, the doorbell rings and Edwin has the look of surprise and guilt at the same time. He wasn’t expecting a visitor, and doesn’t want anyone to find them doing drugs.
Ken reassures Edwin, smiling sadistically, “The girls are here.” He stands up to answer the door. When he opens it, he finds a petite blonde with a beautiful figure and a bookshelf rear-end. Beside her is a taller girl, also beautiful, a transvestite. As he escorts them in, he quietly gives them instructions. Walking into the living room, the girls are giggling, and he tells Edwin, “The taller one says she wants you.”
They disappear into the dark recesses of the house, taking the cocaine with them. Ken orders the entertainment system to play some loud rock, and the party is underway.
When they emerge over an hour later, the girls leave, and Edwin discovers it’s a little after 11 am in the morning. He feels like he’s been up for days.
Seated at the breakfast bar, Ken is slicing up apples and oranges for them to share. “Gotta keep our energy levels up. That was like an exercise class.” They’re both laughing loudly. “C’mon, let’s sit at the table over there and have some juice, share this fruit. If we need it, I’ll get more.”
After they’ve taken seats, Edwin tells him, as if possessing inside knowledge, “I know who you are.”
“Oh really,” Ken replies.
“Yes, I looked you up.”
“And?”
“You trafficked in stolen goods. You were involved in sex slavery. You were involved in insurance fraud. Bribery and forgery, drugs. You’re worth a lot of money.”
“How much?”
“At least a billion.”
“Wow,” Ken reacts, playing along. “Did you know I put a man into a commercial woodchipper? Alive?”
Edwin doesn’t say anything. He’s beginning to get creeped out again. Ken can see he’s afraid. You can’t hide that forever.
Ken stares into Edwin’s eyes and gets a little closer to him, almost whispering, “Did you know I skinned a man? That’s a real thing. There’s a technique to it, to remove their skin, in one piece, while they’re still alive.” Ken laughs a little, under his breath. “He screamed like there was no tomorrow. And guess what? There wasn’t!” He laughs out loud, throwing his head back. Looking into Edwin’s eyes again, he whispers, grinning, “Another guy, we took him apart piece by piece. That was a trip!”
Edwin dares to ask, skeptically, “But you’re retired now, right?”
“Am I, Eddie?”
“You’re marrying my mother-in-law, right?”
“Am I?” Ken knows the conversation has taken a turn into hell. “I’ll let you in on some things, Edwin. I don’t even know Reggi. I met her last week for the first time. I know she’s been telling people we’re engaged, that we take trips together, that we own a yacht.” Edwin’s eyes are large white pools of fear. Then Ken adds maliciously, through clenched teeth, “All lies.”
He lets that revelation take charge. Holding up his cell phone, Ken asks, “You like pictures, Edwin? I have some right here. I just got them from your he-she you were getting banged by.” He shows Edwin a fe
w shots, a little oral here, a little rough riding there. “Reggi and Charlotte will love these. Your daughters, too,” he says, smiling. “They’re going viral, I’ll see to that.” He grins viciously at Edwin, his lips curled.
Edwin is deathly afraid. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?” He begins to cry. He puts his hands to his head and then rests them on the table while sobbing softly.
In one swift motion, Ken brings the knife he was using to core the apple down into the meat of Edwin’s hand, pinning it to the table with a loud bang. Edwin screams in pain. From his pocket Ken draws his switchblade and pops it open. Holding Edwin’s arm still with his left hand, he skins it from elbow to wrist, deftly, as Edwin continues screaming. Then he reaches down, stabbing him in the crotch, and blood instantly appears in a widening pool at Edwin’s feet. Quickly, Ken stands up and steps behind Edwin, holding his head still as he slices open one eye.
Trying to get away, Edwin rips his hand from the knife, and, before he can take a step, Ken throws him to the floor, onto Edwin’s huge belly. Ken takes the switchblade and inserts it deeply into his anus, twisting it, and he rests his knee on Edwin’s back, holding him there as his screams reach a higher octave. Grabbing one hand, he removes all of Edwin’s fingers, leaving the thumb, and quickly does the same to the other hand. From his position, and with Edwin screaming and squirming below him, Ken shouts, “And now I will treat you to a show! I’ll skin you alive, just like that other lucky fellow!” With that, he runs his blade from shoulder to shoulder, around an inch deep. Then he runs it down each arm to the elbow and finishes the job, leaving Edwin screaming in a higher octave than ever.
