“No problem. Mary, come over here. I think you need to have another conversation with Mr. Alvarez.”
“No! Keep that crazy woman away from me! What do you want to know?”
I showed him the photos of Maggie with the warnings to back off.
“Did you send these? Tell me the truth or I’ll let Mary have her way with you.”
He looked at the photos. “I’ve never seen those before. I swear!”
I almost wished that he had.
Someone had sent them, and I still had no clue as to who it might be.
EPILOGUE
I was out of the conspiracy business.
I had promised Maggie I would be, and I intended to keep that promise.
Someone out there had told me to back off with a not-so-veiled threat that if I didn’t, something would happen to the one person I love more than anything else in this world. I had almost lost her to Angel Alvarez and I wasn’t about to tempt fate again.
Even though I knew it was the right thing to do, I still felt a pang of guilt.
If the chemtrail thing was truly a conspiracy, the world needed to know about it.
A quote from Albert Einstein kept running through my mind. “The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who stand by and do nothing.”
I didn’t want to be one of the ones standing by, but I couldn’t help thinking about what happened to four others who tried to warn the world they are being poisoned.
One moment my rational self would say the conspiracy theory was nothing but a hoax, then I would look at the evidence again and have second thoughts.
Maybe the brake line on Dale Fox’s car was worn and simply ruptured at an inopportune moment, preventing him from delivering hard evidence to Jack Carson.
Then again, maybe not.
Maybe Frank Katz’ poor old heart just gave out on him before he could publish his revealing thesis. His doctor said he had a bum ticker.
Then again, maybe not.
Maybe poor Louise Shipley was done in by Paulie the Pervert and Gus Grinder just before she was to reveal Monsanto’s connection to the chemtrails.
Then again, maybe not.
Maybe Jack Carson really is at the bottom of the Missouri River, compliments of mafia boss, Carmine Marchetti. After all, he was banging the godfather’s daughter.
Then again, maybe not.
But even if we say all those maybes are true, there are still a lot of unanswered questions.
Who were the men who claimed they were from the university and took all of Frank Katz’ papers, including his thesis?
Who broke into my home and planted a virus on my computer to destroy the copy of the thesis that Katz had emailed to me?
Who broke into Jack Carson’s home and planted a listening device in his smoke detector?
Who were the men in the SUV who followed us home from the restaurant?
And most important to me, who sent the pictures of my wife, threatening her life?
Since I was out of the conspiracy business, I would probably never know the answers to these questions and they would haunt me for the rest of my life.
My one hope was the manuscript I had given to author Robert Thornhill.
He called one day, saying he was almost finished with the first draft of the novel he titled, Lady Justice and the Conspiracy.
I liked the name. I’ve always been a fan of Lady Justice, because somehow, she always finds a way, often quite an unorthodox way, to balance the scales of justice.
Maybe this work of fiction might be the very thing that would reach the masses with the truth. Few of us would take the time to read a boring scientific treatise on the subject or take seriously the rantings of a guy wearing a tin foil hat, but who doesn’t like to lose themselves in a good mystery novel?
Thornhill claimed to have a broad fan base, and a marketing program that would put the novel in over forty thousand homes.
Surely there would be those who would glean the kernels of truth from the pages of his book.
He promised to send me an autographed copy when it was in print.
For me, the events of the past few weeks have changed my life forever.
Every now and then the verse from Lee Greenwood’s song plays in my mind.
I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free.
When I think of what I’ve seen and heard, I wonder if that freedom is just an illusion. Are we really free when deadly toxins are forced upon us in the air we breathe, the water we drink, the food we eat, and the vaccines that are injected into our bodies?
Every time I step outside I will look to the heavens for the white streaks that crisscross the sky from one horizon to the other, and wonder what witches potion is being sprayed that day.
Then I’ll say to myself that the fluffy trails are simply water vapor frozen into ice crystals.
Then again, maybe not!
Conspiracy?
Check out these references, as Walt did and decide for yourself.
The Air Force Document titled, Dominating the Weather 2025
http://csat.au.af.mil/2025/volume3/vol3ch15.pdf
Operation Indigo Skyfold
http://stateofthenation2012.com/?p=10890
Project Cloverleaf
http://www.disclose.tv/forum/project-cloverleaf-chemtrails-and-their-purpose-t72795.html
HAARP
http://www.globalresearch.ca/haarp-secret-weapon-used-for-weather-modification-electromagnetic-warfare/20407
Pinal Air Park, Marana, Arizona
http://stopnortherncaliforniachemtrails.blogspot.com/2014/12/pinal-county-airpark.html
ECHELON
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ECHELON
Monsanto
http://www.geoengineeringwatch.org/chemtrails-killing-organic-crops-monsantos-gmo-seeds-thrive/
http://weatherpeace.blogspot.com/2013/08/connecting-dots-monsanto-and-weather.html
http://www.triplepundit.com/2013/11/monsantos-climate-corp-predicting-weather-controlling-food-prices/
Aerial Vaccines
http://preventdisease.com/news/12/011712_Look-Up-The-New-Age-of-Inoculation-is%20Aerial-Vaccines-and-Nano-Delivery-Systems.shtml
http://www.geoengineeringwatch.org/vaccinations-from-the-sky/
Dr. Len Horowitz – Conspiracy Theorist
http://www.bariumblues.com/flu_conspiracy.htm
Kristen Meghan – Air Force Whistleblower
http://www.trueactivist.com/military-scientist-whistleblower-says-yes-we-are-being-sprayed/
Geoengineering
http://www.geoengineeringwatch.org/
http://www.collective-evolution.com/2014/04/18/nasa-admits-to-chemtrails-as-they-propose-spraying-stratospheric-aerosols-into-earths-atmosphere/
Chemicals
http://www.globalresearch.ca/chemtrails-the-consequences-of-toxic-metals-and-chemical-aerosols-on-human-health/19047
Fluoride
http://fluoridealert.org/articles/50-reasons/
http://www.globalhealingcenter.com/health-hazards-to-know-about/where-the-yellow-went
Videos
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c34U0Pwz4_c
https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=23&v=lZaD-H_j3pU
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcZaJEMsSwM
Global Conspiracy?
What Do You Think?
Naarden, Holland
Canberra, Australia
Liverpool, England
Wales
Berlin, Germany
Amsterdam, Netherlands
LADY JUSTICE
AND THE
CONSPIRACY
TRIAL
A WALT WILLIAMS
MYSTERY/COMEDY NOVEL
ROBERT THORNHILL
Lady Justice and the Conspiracy Trial
Copyright February, 2016 by Robert Thornhill
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way,
by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, incidents and entities included in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events and entities is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America
Cover design by Peg Thornhill
Fiction, Humorous
Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General
LADY JUSTICE
AND THE
CONSPIRACY TRIAL
CHAPTER 1
Jack Carson’s mouth was dry, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. Another look in the rear view mirror confirmed his worst fear --- they had found him.
Fifteen minutes earlier, he had spotted the black SUV trailing discreetly several cars back. He had taken a circuitous route through town hoping the SUV would continue on, but it hadn’t. Its course had mirrored his own and now there was no doubt in his mind ---they had found him.
His nightmare had begun innocently enough several months ago when he had been contacted by a man who identified himself only as ‘Falcon.’ He claimed to be an Air Force pilot recruited for a program called ‘Indigo Skyfold’ whose purpose was to spray chemtrails of hazardous material into the atmosphere for both weather manipulation and defense purposes.
Falcon had chosen Carson, believing his status as the number one crime reporter for the Kansas City Star made him the perfect person to expose the government’s covert agenda.
Like everyone else, Carson had seen the fluffy white ribbons crisscrossing the sky for years and thought nothing of it. Three clandestine meetings with Falcon changed his mind and ultimately, the course of his life.
The evidence presented by Falcon was so compelling, Carson could smell Pulitzer Prize and pursued every lead given by the pilot.
The last piece of evidence Carson needed for his story was a sample of the toxic chemical stew purported to contain aluminum oxide, ethylene dibromide and barium.
A fourth meeting was arranged where Falcon was to deliver a sample of the spray, but he never showed. Carson learned the next day that Falcon had died on the way to their meeting when his brakes conveniently failed resulting in a lethal accident.
Falcon had told Carson that he and the other pilots in the program had been admonished by superiors that their missions were a matter of national security and any breaches of confidentiality would have dire consequences.
There was no doubt in Carson’s mind that Falcon’s ‘accident’ was such a consequence, but there was no proof.
Falcon’s demise wasn’t the only suspicious death associated with the chemtrail conspiracy.
Carson had enlisted the aid of Walt Williams, a retired police officer who had opened his own private investigation service. Seeking further confirmation of the government’s secret program, Williams had submitted their findings to Frank Katz, a professor at the University of Missouri-Kansas City, who was known to have an interest in the subject.
Katz was thrilled and proclaimed the new evidence offered by Falcon was the final piece of the puzzle he needed to finish a paper which he planned to submit for publication exposing the government’s secret operation.
Frank Katz conveniently died of a heart attack before he could publish his final draft.
Equally perplexing was the disappearance of Louise Shipley, an employee of the chemical giant, Monsanto. This mega-corporation had been mentioned multiple times in the articles Carson had found, linking the company’s development of aluminum resistant seeds to the poisons that had been sprayed and drifted to the earth over the years.
Shipley had come to Kansas City from Monsanto’s office in St. Louis with information for Carson. Inexplicably, the young whistleblower disappeared the night before their meeting. Three people about to expose government secrets were dead or missing --- coincidence? Carson didn’t think so.
After the disappearance of Louise Shipley, Carson had gone into hiding. He made one last stop at his apartment and never went back. He withdrew cash from his bank account and destroyed all his credit cards. He tossed his cell phone in a dumpster and bought a burner. He even abandoned his car in an underground garage and bought an old clunker, manufactured before the advent of GPS. He rented a cheap motel room under an assumed name and paid with cash.
He thought he had covered every possible contingency --- but they had found him.
As he checked the mirror again, his hand involuntarily went to the two manila envelopes in the seat beside him. One was addressed to Walt Williams and contained every scrap of evidence he had collected about the chemtrail conspiracy. He had decided that should he be caught, someone familiar with the investigation should have the information to continue the battle to expose one of the greatest deceits ever perpetrated on the American people. The other was to Calinda Marchetti.
He wondered if he had acted too late.
Then, he saw his opportunity.
It was five in the afternoon and the going-home traffic had clogged the streets. The SUV was still two cars behind him. Just as he approached a busy intersection, the light turned yellow, then red. Before the cross traffic could pull into the intersection, he hit the accelerator and made an illegal left turn, barely missing an oncoming car.
He heard the horns of angry drivers, but he didn’t care. The SUV was stuck until the light turned green, and would still have to make an illegal turn.
He swerved through the traffic and sped ahead until he spotted a multi-story parking garage. He drove inside and wound his way to the third level and pulled into a spot where he could see the traffic on the street below.
Carson breathed a sigh of relief, as minutes later, the SUV sped past.
When the SUV was out of sight, he relaxed for a moment and collected his thoughts.
Somehow, in spite of all his precautions, they were still on to him. He quickly concluded that his only course of action was to leave town, disappear completely, and start a new life somewhere far, far away from Kansas City.
But first, there was the matter of the two envelopes. He had done everything he could, and now it would be up to Walt Williams to carry on the investigation.
Looking both ways, he carefully ventured out of the garage and headed to the main post office on Pershing Road across from Union Station.
He pulled up to the curbside collection box, rolled down his window and slipped the envelopes into the slot.
Carson felt a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders as he drove back to his motel to collect what was left of his worldly possessions before heading out into the great unknown.
He took one last look around the room to make sure he was leaving nothing behind. Satisfied, he was about to close the lid to his lone piece of luggage when he heard car doors slam.
Peeking through the blinds, he saw the black SUV and heard footsteps outside in the hall. Quickly, he ran to the bathroom which faced the opposite side of the motel. He threw open the window hoping to escape, but two men with weapons drawn were covering the back.
His mind raced, hoping to find a way to freedom, but it only took a moment for him to realize it was over.
As he heard the door frame splinter, fear and panic turned to resignation.
He slumped down onto the commode to await his fate.
CHAPTER 2
“NO! Absolutely not! There’s no way in hell I’m putting on a dress --- again!”
I couldn’t believe that Ox, my former partner on the Kansas City Police Force for five years, and Kevin, my new partner in Walt Williams Investigations, would even suggest such a thing.
Five years ago, as part of an undercover operation, my captain ‘volunteered’ me to pose as a transvestite and frequent the Foxy Lady Lounge, a cross-dresser’s haven that doubled as the headquarters for a nefarious cabal that was trying to take over Northeast Kansas City.
Although my brief venture into the world
of cross dressing was a huge success, I was razzed unmercifully by my fellow officers, and I’m told that embarrassing photos are still adorning the walls of the break room.
“But Walt,” Ox pleaded, “Phil needs you.”
“And it’s good for business,” Kevin added.
A series of muggings at the Foxy Lady had prompted Phil McCrevice, the owner, to seek help from the police.
The drag bar had been a fixture on Troost Avenue for years, and no one seemed to give a rip about the characters dressed in ladies garments who patronized the place --- until recently.
The incident that seemed to be responsible for the current attacks was the sensational story of the transitioning of Olympic athlete, Bruce Jenner to Caitlyn Jenner.
Apparently, the vision of Bruce, Olympic hero, on the Wheaties box, suddenly replaced by the photo of Caitlyn on the cover of Vanity Fair, was just too much to handle for some poor twisted soul.
After her gender identity was revealed in the Vanity Fair article, Jenner amassed over a million Twitter followers in four hours and three minutes, setting a new Guinness World Record. Four days later, Jenner was up to 2.37 million followers.
One of them, right here in Kansas City, was upset enough to take out his or her frustration on the patrons of the Foxy Lady.
Even though I had been retired from the force for almost a year, guess whose name came up when McCrevice asked for help.
The Chemtrail Conspiracy Set (Lady Justice Book 22) Page 13
