by Frank Klus
Eugene remembered when it was a boarded up community center. His father used to go there, but lack of interest forced it to close until the town sold it to Shorty McDougel, who opened up a gym. He couldn’t make a go of it until five years ago when Stu Everson talked him into gambling. At first he put some slot machines in the gym, and then began taking some of the exercise equipment out to add a roulette and card table. Finally, he decided to convert the whole place into a casino. Mark Packable then convinced him to open up some private rooms for sex; and with sex, to add a headshop and sell drugs. Eugene doctored the books for him.
“Hi, sweetie,” a hooker shouted to Eugene, as he passed by. “Need a date?”
“Let me keep you company tonight. I’m very lucky,” another said.
“Hey buddy, need some weed? How about some acid? Got everything man. Come on in.” Eugene hurried past them.
Passing the tawdriness, the shrillness of the signage, and the seemliness of the whole atmosphere, he reached the L&S supermarket at the south end of town, where he picked up some bread and lunchmeat. Then, one more pass through the garishness.
When he arrived home he sat in his favorite chair, sipped a glass of wine, and played some music. After awhile he went to the kitchen to fix a sandwich and have a glass of beer, but the sandwich had no taste and the beer seemed flat. He felt hungry, and yet he had no appetite. He put television on, but it could not fill the emptiness within him. He tried to think about why she did it. Could I have stopped it? Why did she say I have to get out instead of we have to get out? What did this have to do with Dennis? So much uncertainty.
Several hours went by with Eugene searching his mind for the answers to his questions. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, but he didn’t want to go upstairs. He dreaded the moment when he’d go to where Catherine murdered herself, and so he poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels. He downed several more, and began pacing through the house; his emotions overcoming fatigue. After a few more shots he became angry. “DAMN IT, CATHERINE! WHY? WHY DID YOU DO IT?” He began sniveling as he paced the kitchen. “This isn’t fair. We had a great life together. Why did you ruin it? DAMM IT! WHY?” His voice got louder and harsher with each question. He was in a blind rage when he hurled the glass toward the far wall, crashing and splintering it. He collapsed to the floor next to the kitchen table and began sobbing again. He was on his knees with his face arched toward the ceiling. “I HATE YOU! YOU HEAR ME, CATHERINE! YOU TOOK AWAY EVERYTHING FROM ME. I HATE YOU!” His sobbing came in wild pulsations until he let out one last horrible scream; a scream from the top of his voice that could rattle the dead. Finally, he sprawled out on the kitchen floor until sleep overtook him.
When he woke up, shameful and thanking God no one knew of his outburst, he got up and climbed the dreadful stairs. He walked over to his wife’s side of the bed and pulled back the covers, and climbed in. He lay down in her space. He could still feel her; still felt her warmth. He stared at the nightstand once again and picked up the book. It had a tissue she used as a bookmark near the end. He opened it up and read…save them from the impending destruction. He closed the book and looked at the spine. Gibbon—the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.
Eugene woke up to the fierce rays of a rising sun. He walked downstairs, his head aching. He was making a pot of extra strong coffee when the phone rang.
“Mr. Sulke. This is the county coroner. I just got the results of the autopsy. Could you come in, please?”
“Could you tell me now? Was it alcohol?”
“A mixture of alcohol and barbiturates, but there’s something else you should know.”
“What is it?”
“I’d rather you come down to the County Morgue.”
“Why can’t you tell me now?”
“It is at the request of Detective Wismar that you come down.”
“All right. I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Eugene, let’s talk over here,” Wismar said. Gene sat down across from him, watching him shuffle some papers around. “Ah, yes, here it is. Did you know your wife was pregnant? About…let’s see…three months.”
“What?” Eugene said incredulously. That’s impossible!”
Wismar just stared at Eugene with a blank expression. “I use a rubber because we don’t want children.”
“How were you two getting along? Has she been drinking?”
“Yes, but only the last couple months or so.”
“Has she talked to you about anything wrong in her life?”
“No, we haven’t been talking much lately. We got along great until she started drinking. Then she began withdrawing. In fact, I’d say she started withdrawing several months ago. We made love sparingly during that time.”
“Did you know she was expecting?”
“No. She never mentioned it to me, and I don’t know how she could be pregnant. I use protection.”
Wismar just smiled and stared at Eugene before firing the next question. “Did you argue with her over her drinking?”
“Are you insinuating something?”
“How do you think she got pregnant, Mr. Sulke? You knew she was screwing someone, right?” Eugene didn’t answer but wore a pained expression.
“She couldn’t get an abortion and couldn’t face you once she found out she was cheating on you.” Wismar paused to stare at the red-faced man across the table. “I asked you before if you knew why your wife died.”
“She committed suicide. You saw the note.”
“Did you write it?”
“What?” Wismar was unmoved. “No, I didn’t write it.”
“One of your co-workers told me you’d like to kill your wife.”
“I never said or felt anything of the sort.”
“You kill her?”
“Is this a question or an accusation?”
Wismar coldly stared at Eugene.
“May I go now?”
Wismar continued to stare at him, but he knew he had no evidence to hold him. “Go on, get out.”
Eugene got up to leave when Wismar got one final dig in. “I will continue my investigation, Mr. Sulke. Be in touch soon, I’m sure.”
Gene went back to work in late September, after the funeral, surprising Stu Everson with his return. Eugene realized he needed to keep busy. He put on appearances and even cracked a few jokes, but he was hurting inside.
Stu Everson poked his head into Eugene’s office and asked how it was going. Gene smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile; it was forced.
“I just wanted you to know how deeply sorry I am about you and Catherine. She was a wonderful lady. Any idea why she did it? I mean, I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s okay, Stu, but I really don’t know why; although I think it had something to do with the Lightning Squad.” Eugene looked down and pursed his lips, while Stu stared at him.
“There’s a Detective Wismar who I think wants to build a case against me. I don’t know why. Killing Catherine is the last thing I’d want to do.”
Stu frowned and looked concerned. “Did you say Wismar?”
“Yeah. Have you heard of him?”
Stu just nodded up and down. “He works for the Lightning Squad. Eugene, I have an attorney that works for some friendly people in government. I think he can slow that bastard down.” Eugene brightened up as Stu left.
Eugene Sulke was Project Manager in charge of Business Dynamics. In his position he would cook the books to make it look like the products or services provided were more profitable than they were. He worked with Mark Packable, the company’s marketing guru. They often worked in tandem: Mark would move the owner to drugs, gambling and prostitution, while Eugene would massage the books. The government legalized the “sin industry” years ago, and government regulation of accounting practices was almost nonexistent.
Gene was given a small but comfortable office next to the Vice President for Business Optimization. Raul Rodriguez was Eugene’s immediate boss and the number two man in the
organization. Raul would get the clients, determine the scope of the job, and assign it to one of his four project managers. Each one was an expert in a particular area of business. These areas included marketing, inventory control, organizational development, and business dynamics.
Gene enjoyed his job. He enjoyed the challenge of solving seemingly insurmountable problems. He was a minimalist with few books on a built-in bookcase; a small credenza in one corner with a coffee urn and a few incidentals; and his fairly small desk had just a phone, laptop, and a double image desktop frame picture on it.
Eugene was sitting at his desk, mulling over some problem in his mind, when he picked up the frame and looked at the pictures. On one side was a picture of Catherine looking so young and beautiful, and on the other side, the two of them were in a silly pose. He found himself feeling overwhelmed with grief again, but he couldn’t put the frame down. He stared at Catherine’s portrait and felt anger welling up within. Why couldn’t you tell me what was wrong? Why? Then he stopped and forced himself to put the picture down. He stared at it some more, his eyes getting redder. Stop it! He grabbed the pictures again putting the frame in the bottom drawer. Self-indulgence, he thought. Get back to work. He finished the day working on a spreadsheet and had begun scheduling appointments for tomorrow when Stu came in.
“Gene, I talked to our attorney. You won’t have to worry about that detective. He threw a real scare into him.”
Eugene smiled. “Thank you, Stu. You’ve been a real friend to me; to us.”
“Gene, I need you on something else. It’s time you moved forward. Raul is leaving us to start his own business. I want you to be my new number two. I need someone who I can trust and who’s smart. You’ll be my Vice President.”
“Raul—leaving?”
“It happens. Gene, Raul was the catalyst of our business operations. This is what you know; what you do. You’re the perfect man for the job. I swear to God, Gene, people will forego food to get their drug fix. Others will gamble away any extra money they save, and men will spend their hard earned money on whores, booze, and drugs. I got into this business, Gene, not to help businesses find a way to endure a shrinking market, but to find new ways to make money. I know it isn’t nice, and gee, I wish we could make money the old fashioned way, but those days are gone, Gene. You know this is our future.”
Gene’s smile began fading with a look of concern. Stu picked up on it. “Gene, I need you to play a leadership role on this. The job pays a quarter of a million dollars a year, two months paid vacation, a new car, and other perks.”
“I suppose a person would be crazy to refuse, yet I have some concerns.”
Stu frowned. “Eugene, this is what you’ve worked for. You earned this promotion. Give it some thought. Oh, and one more thing. The job comes with a home in the Fortress. Are you interested? You don’t have to make a decision right now, but I do need one soon. Raul will be leaving at the end of October, and I need a replacement. Take the rest of the week to think about it.”
“Okay, Stu.”
As Eugene headed home Cassandra popped up from his back seat again. “Hi, Gene,” she said with a wide smile on her face.
“Why can’t you give me some warning?”
Cassandra climbed out of the back and jumped into the front seat.
“I’m sort of glad you’re here,” he said. “I suppose you know what happened to my wife. You seem to know everything that’s going on. So suppose you tell me.”
She just looked at Gene with a sad smile. “I’m sorry about your wife. I didn’t know her, but I do know a bit about what was going on.”
He stared at her in anticipation.
“I started to tell you the last time I was here, but I knew you weren’t ready to hear this part yet. Your wife was fooling around with Commandant Jaydan Casimir.”
“The police told me she was pregnant.” He stopped to stare at Cassandra who looked blankly back at Eugene. “Now, you’re telling me she was fucking the Commandant of the Lightning Squad?”
“She was coerced into it. It wasn’t her choice. Anyway, they started a relationship several months ago; about the time she started getting moody.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean coerced? And what does all this have to do with Dennis? You and Catherine hate him.”
“Dennis works for Jaydan Casimir. Jay found out that you and Dennis were best friends as kids. He likes Dennis; thinks he’s got potential. Now, Dennis gets a nice bonus for information about you. Dennis has a big mouth. He brags about his new assignment, and how he’s going to milk information out of you. If that information results in confirmation that you’re an enemy of the state, he gets an even bigger bonus.”
“I don’t believe you. Dennis wouldn’t do that. I met him and his wife just recently. We’ve talked on the phone. They came to the funeral. They’re wonderful people. I don’t know what problem you and Ray have with them, but I think I’m a pretty good judge of people and you are way off base. How do you know so much anyway?”
“Look, Mr. Businessman, put it together. Dennis works for Jay now. Jay told him about you and Catherine. Dennis talks. When he talks, I know.”
“But you told me you weren’t in the Lightning Squad anymore. How would you know who Dennis talks to or what he even talks about?”
“It’s true, I’m not with those bastards anymore, but we have spies in their headquarters. Anyway, they started this relationship several months ago. The word is that Jay saw your wife in some photos that the Squad took of her.”
“Photos?”
“They have a whole dossier on you. We covered the reasons why the last time.”
Gene said nothing, but indicated he cared to hear more.
“Anyway, he was attracted to her. He had you watched for a while. He got to know your schedule and he tracked you.”
“Tracked me? Like with Dennis?”
“He had a GPS tracker put on your car. He knows your whereabouts all the time. He knows every place you go. Anyway, one day Jay goes to your house and Catherine opens the door. He pretends to be a co-worker—someone you’ve mentioned. Mark, I believe.” She paused.
“Go on.”
“Anyway, once in, he then revealed himself and propositioned your wife.” She paused to check Gene’s reaction, and then she got a little more serious. “He asked her out for a drink. She refused, of course. Then Casimir told her if she didn’t go with him he’d have your father put under his custody. He assured her he knew every place he goes, and because the RAC has an agreement with the Squad, he could pick him up any time.”
“He had my father tracked too?”
“I don’t actually know, but he could have. Your wife protested and threatened to call the police. Casimir calmly informed her he was the police. He was out of his jurisdiction, of course, but the threat was real. He convinced Catherine he really could get your father, but if she would agree to go out with him he’d leave your father alone. So she agreed.”
“Why didn’t she just come to me?”
She just smiled. “What would you have done?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you do. You would have gone to the police. You’d have filed a report, but then your father would be in Squad hands. Furthermore, you’d be the one in trouble. You couldn’t do anything about it, Gene. Your wife knew that. She hoped that having a drink with the son of a bitch would be the end of it.” She paused. “But it wasn’t. He began asking for sexual favors. Catherine resisted.” She stopped and looked seriously at Eugene. “Then the Commandant began using you.”
Eugene’s face turned red and he looked like an eruption about to happen.
“Casimir was told to keep tabs on you, but Casimir saw an opportunity—get rid of you and take Catherine. He hoped you’d try and do something about it. Then he’d have a reason to arrest you, and he would still have Catherine with more leverage. She knew how powerful that man is. She knew you could get into serious difficulties if you knew.” Cassandra
looked away, frowning. “So she agreed.” She turned toward Gene.
“So he raped her,” he said, more to himself. His eyes narrowed and his breathing quickened, but he fought back the urge to explode.
“Yes,” Cassandra said. They were both reticent at this point, and then Gene slammed the steering wheel with his hands, still fighting against the anger. Cassandra just looked at him and then continued. “By this time your wife was drinking heavily. It was her way of dealing with her inner turmoil. She was given a choice—cheat on you or watch you killed or imprisoned. It was no choice at all.”
Gene turned suddenly toward Cassandra. “You’re telling me this man, Casimir, saw a picture of my wife and fucked her; ruining both our lives. And you think I need protection?” Then, Eugene looked down for a second and then back at Cassandra, nonplussed.
“What?” Cassandra said.
“Is this what this is all about?”
“What?”
“Why you’re here. You knew I’d want him dead. You told me all this because you want money to kill him. Okay, fine. How much do you want?”
“I don’t want anything, Gene. That isn’t why I’m here. I told you, I’m here to protect you.”
“Since Catherine is dead, why would Casimir care about me now? I don’t see that I need your protection. Maybe it’s Casimir who needs protection. I won’t rest until that bastard is dead. No, not just dead. I want to see his gonads stuffed down his throat first.”
“Please, Gene. I know how you feel, but you could never get to Casimir. He’d have you killed before you even found out where he lives. No one can get to him. He’d be dead already if I could get to him. But you are in danger, Gene. You must believe me.”
“I’m not some revolutionary. I’m not going to sneak off to the New World and try to start a war. Why should I need any protection? One day I’ll find someone who can get to him. I tell you, he is the only one who needs protection. I have money, and soon I’ll have a lot more. I’ll pay that bastard back. In the meantime, all I have to do is mind my own business and everything will be fine.”
