VETO Seeking the presidency can be a killer!

by Jan Sumner

“Wow, this family really has gone through it, haven’t they?” Jake said while getting into his car.

  “Yes, but they’re basically a good family. I’ve been with Mr. Eastman for many years and I know him to be a good man. We all foul up once in a while,” Warren said closing the car door.

  All the way back to his room, Jake kept mulling it over in his mind, ‘Why was Eugene White killed, and who would have had the motive to do it?’ As he saw it, there were probably several possibilities. Certainly, Marks and Johnson, but what about Steve? He apparently hated his father and just might have wanted to expose him. But would he put his family through all this just to achieve that satisfaction? What about his wife, Jennifer? She definitely didn’t fit the profile, but if she knew her husband was having an affair with another man, might she not become desperate enough to eliminate White to save her family? And, of course, there was the possibility Ty actually did it - either on his own or at the request of Morgan. If she too wanted to save the family, knew about the affair, and wanted White out of the picture, they might have actually collaborated. Last but not least could it be Eastman himself. But would he destroy his career and family by eliminating White? Probably not. The most obvious, however, were Marks and Johnson, and the guy who might have actually done it…the mystery man. His gut and the mounting evidence told him to follow the Marks lead first and see where it led. Within the next twenty-four hours, he should have a good idea who the guy in the photos was.

  * * * *

  “Good news sir. You’ll never believe what I have in my hands.” There was nothing but dead silence on the other end of the phone. “Mr. Marks, are you there?”

  “Yes?” Marks recognized Capt. Clancy’s voice. “Yes, what is it Clancy? This better be good.”

  Captain Edward Clancy of the Chicago PD had been involved with Marks for many years. On the take as it were. When they needed inside information, the strange disappearance of evidence, or on occasional indirect threat, Clancy was their man. He’d been passed over for a promotion and had compromised his integrity and career all in the name of money. Marks had promised him that, as he moved up the ladder, there would be a position in his organization commensurate with Clancy’s dubious talents. Clancy was right at home with men like Marks.

  “Oh, it is sir. You see this girlfriend of Sonja Bartlett’s came into the police station with this package and asked for Sgt. Hawkins. Sgt. Hawkins then came and got me and…”

  “CLANCY! What the hell do you have for me?”

  “Sorry. The package she brought in has all of Sonja Bartlett’s investigative material - notes, pictures, statements; the whole nine yards.”

  “Wow, that is good news. I’m sorry I yelled at you Captain, it’s just been a rough week. So tell me, who else has seen this…package?”

  “Only Sgt. Hawkins.”

  “I see and, is that going to be a problem I need to worry about?”

  “No sir. I’ve taken care of it.”

  “Absolutely, positively, Captain Clancy?”

  “Definitely, sir!”

  Marks arranged to have Clancy meet with Johnson and give him the package. This wasn’t good news, it was great news! Without anything additional to what they already had, the police would continue to assume it was Tyler Flynn that was responsible for Sonja’s death. Marks began to think that maybe they would get away with this after all. But he still had no idea what Chef might do, and that was a major concern. With Sonja and her evidence out of the picture, however, there was nothing for Chef to do. This was beyond great news it was…kismet.

  * * * *

  He sat alone in the dark, mulling over his options. Should he stay or go and would they eventually put all this together and track him down? He was growing weary. Chef felt like he’d been on the run for years. They hadn’t caught him yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. He’d been well paid, but forced to compromise himself in hideous ways. Killing came with the territory; he knew that and accepted it. Through the years, his life had meant little to him, so why should anyone else’s matter. It was a job – nothing more and nothing less. But what if he had wanted to change and, try to lead that so called normal life? How would he do it? Where does one start after all these years of deceit, subterfuge and assassination? He had no idea and was not even sure he wanted to. One thing was sure: for the first time in his life, he’d begun to feel at home in Chicago. He actually had some friends who had no idea what he really did for a living, and he loved the city. If he was forced to run, he’d do it reluctantly. Marks was certainly one of the most conniving people he’d dealt with, and his power and connections were a concern. Then there was the other party involved, which made this one of the most complicated situations he’d ever undertaken. For the first time since he could remember, he felt a little disorientated.

  Suddenly, he jumped to his feet and yelled out loud, “snap out of it!” He knew he had things to take care of, starting with Marks and Johnson. Johnson seemed to be the pawn and definitely the weaker of the two. If there was a chink in Marks’ armor, it was Johnson. If they forced him into a corner…he’d use it. For now though, he’d leave well enough alone and let them make the next move. After all, Marks had way more at stake then he did.

  * * * *

  Morgan had been released on her own recognizance and went back to her parents’ home to be with her mom and give Steve a break. Mattie was also arrested as an accessory and she too was released on her own recognizance. Morgan invited her to come to the house, but she preferred to go back to her own apartment. Ty’s bail had been set at one-million dollars. Mr. Eastman had lined up one of the better defense firms in Chicago to handle his case and had made it more than clear that the Eastman family was supporting Ty and they truly believed that he had nothing to do with the deaths of Sonja Bartlett or Eugene White. His political career was over and the best he could do now was try to salvage his family and some self-respect.

  Morgan would go see Ty in jail. He looked terrible. He had no way of raising the million dollars and the Eastman family had dramatically depleted their resources on Mozzetti and the defense for Morgan and Mattie. Unfortunately, Ty would have to wait this out in jail. It was killing her. She knew he was alone and had no one to talk to. Bob Patterson, of Patterson, Patterson and Lowe, the firm now representing him, told her he was holding up fine but was getting progressively depressed. She could see it every time she visited him. She tried to boost his spirits, but he had a sense of inevitability about his situation. He was sure they’d find him guilty.

  * * * *

 

  Steve went home to be with Tim and get away from the oppressive atmosphere at his parents’ house. He told them he’d be back in a few days, he just needed to catch up on a few things. He was worried about his mother, she seemed so… fragile.

  He’d called Tim and they’d arranged to meet at one of their favorite little watering holes in downtown. Steve felt like he needed to be out in the public with some music and laughter.

  “Oh, Tim, it’s so good to see you. This has been a living hell.”

  “Come on, sit down and tell me what’s going on,” Tim offered reassuringly.

  “First of all, I’m dreadfully worried about my mother. I’ve never seen her like this. She looks sick and depressed. I don’t know what to do for her.”

  “Steve, slow down, take a deep breath and try to relax for a minute. You know you’re doing all you can right now. You’re there for her. She knows that. What’s your dad doing…if anything?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. He’s there and he hired this private investigator that he hopes will find the real murderer. But he’s the one who brought all this on us, so I had virtually nothing to do with him. I was there for mother and Morgan only.”

  “A private investigator – he is desperate.”

  “Well, that’s what I thought, but who knows maybe the guy will come up with somet
hing and, if he helps my mother and Morgan, I’m all for it.”

  “When did he do this?”

  “I don’t know, several weeks ago I guess. I met him, he seemed like a nice enough guy, but I really didn’t have a chance to talk to him. He was there one afternoon meeting with my father and Warren.”

  “Warren?”

  “Yes, I’ve told you about Warren. He’s my dad’s security guard. Morgan told me Warren had lined up this private investigator for father.”

  “That’s interesting. Did Morgan think the guy was making any progress?”

  “Yeah, she did. One night, after mother fell asleep, we sat and talked about all this. She told me there was no way Ty could have done it and she’d had a meeting with this guy and told him everything she knew. Apparently, father had too and from that he felt he had a few good leads. The best one involved two of his old political adversaries. A Marks and somebody. I don’t remember. As you well know, I could care less about my father’s political career. Now, can we talk about something else and try and enjoy ourselves? I’ve had enough gloom to last me a lifetime.”

  It felt great to be out in the world again, and it felt great to be with Tim. They didn’t talk about the Eastman family misfortune again the rest of the evening.

 

  Chapter 22

  Mozzetti was sorting through all the information, trying to put two and two together, when the phone rang. It was his contact with the FBI. They’d gotten him what he needed to know about the ‘mystery’ man. His real name was Doug Winters, although he used a number of aliases. He had a record, but had never been nailed for anything big. He was thought to be a hit man for high rollers and people in power. None of it had ever been proven though. He’d been seen in and around the Chicago area in the past few months, but there was no direct link between him and the two murders. Neither the FBI nor Chicago police had pursued him in this matter. He was virtually impossible to pin down and unless they had iron clad evidence they let him be. He was too slick to get tripped up on technicalities. Anything brought against him had to be open and shut.

  Jake felt a little discouraged. He knew in his heart and soul this guy had played a part in Sonja Bartlett’s death. But how in the world could he prove it? Not only did he have no evidence, the guy’s a professional and accustomed to living in the shadows.

  But he had to have made a mistake. They always do. The more he contemplated it, the more he figured if there was a leak in the dike, it would be somewhere around Marks or Johnson. Marks was obviously the power guy and called the shots. Johnson was apparently his gopher. That’s who he’d pursue next – Johnson.

  * * * *

  It was a clear crisp morning. Marks had arranged a meeting between Johnson and Capt. Clancy in a park on the south side. It was going to be short and sweet. Exchange the package and leave. Their cars pulled up beside each other, windows down and zip, just like that, Johnson had the package.

  He immediately drove back to the office. Marks waited anxiously. This could be the end to all their problems. If all Sonja Bartlett’s evidence was in this package, they’d be home free. Tyler Flynn would take the fall, and Marks just might have the facts that would prevent Chef from doing anything. He sat drumming his fingers on the table. In what seemed like a monumental amount of time, Johnson finally came shooting through the door.

  “Here it is sir,” he said breathlessly.

  “Great! Let’s have a look at it.”

  Just as Clancy had indicated, there were notes, pictures and a diary of all her activities.

  “Boy, Ms. Bartlett was certainly organized and thorough wasn’t she?” Marks said sorting through the material.

  Johnson had no comment. He sat looking down at the floor between his feet. This was great, it spelled it all out. She had the photos of Ty, her daily activities of following Eastman and then some disturbing comments about being followed. This was verified when she came back from St. Louis and found her apartment trashed. There was even the note she’d found on the shower door, “Sorry you left town in such a hurry. How was your friend Karen in St. Louis?” It was all there, and now best of all, it was all…his. He could sense that Jack was still suffering from some lingering guilt over Sonja Bartlett’s death.

  “Jack, why don’t you go home and get some rest? I know this has been very hard on you and you could use a little break. The way I see it, we’re in the clear with what I have here. I’ll take it from here.”

  Jack slowly rose to his feet, nodded his head and walked out the door. He was exhausted and just couldn’t shake this feeling of remorse over Sonja’s murder. Marks was right; he did need a break. Maybe he’d go fishing, or fly to Florida and see his brother. He had to get away for a while.

  Marks immediately called the Chef to tell him of their good fortune. As usual he was decidedly unimpressed, or at least sounded that way. By mutual agreement they decided not to converse any more. As far as Marks was concerned, it was over. He did, however, point out that he was in the possession of some rather incriminating evidence…but of course he was not going to use it. Chef’s pointed response, “You’d better not!” Marks got the point.

  * * * *

  Jake got a call from Warren telling him he needed to come out to the house as quickly as possible. They just might have a break in the case. Jake was cautiously excited, but couldn’t figure out how this could have happened without his knowledge. Nevertheless, he got there as quickly as he could.

  Warren was waiting for him at the front door, “Jake come on, there’s someone you need to meet.” Hurriedly they went into the study. There, sitting with Mr. Eastman, was an attractive, but serious woman with steely blue eyes.

  “Jake,” Mr. Eastman said excitedly. “This is Sgt. Hawkins of the Chicago PD.”

  “Sergeant, I’m pleased to meet you.” Jake said, still wondering what was going on.

  Mr. Eastman couldn’t contain himself. “Jake, Sgt. Hawkins has been telling us about a package that was brought into the station and…oh, you tell him Carol.”

  Jake could see Mr. Eastman was beside himself with anticipation. Carol Hawkins proceeded to tell the whole story of the ‘package’ as it was now known. She further told him about tailing Capt. Clancy and taking pictures of him giving the package to a man she knew to be Jack Johnson.

  “What prompted you to do this Carol, if I might ask?” Jake questioned.

  “Sonja Bartlett was a friend and a good person. She always dealt with people straight up, and I knew when this happened to her, it was because she’d been tricked by some real pros. I decided right then I was going to pursue this to the end.”

  She seemed honest and this was certainly an admirable thing to do, but Jake found it curious that she’d come to Eastman first and not her own police department or the FBI.

  “Well, you’re certainly a brave woman, but why here, why us? Why not your own department or the FBI?” Jake still had a few doubts.

  Mr. Eastman was about to explode. “Jake, why are you doing this? This is new and incredible information. Why are you questioning her?”

  “No, it’s alright Mr. Eastman,” she said calmly. “That’s a legitimate question. I’ll tell you why... because Capt. Clancy is a very powerful man in the department and if I went to higher ups or the FBI, he’d have my hide, or worse. I knew having worked on this case and from reading the papers that Mr. Eastman had hired a private investigator. I figured it was my best and safest choice. This way maybe you can crack this and I won’t lose my job, or life. I hope that answers your question Mr. Mozzetti.”

  Her penetrating blue eyes never blinked. Jake believed her. He then asked her to tell him everything she knew about the case and Capt. Clancy. Most of what she told him he already knew, but the package and Capt. Clancy's involvement were new and critical pieces to the puzzle. Jake asked Mr. Eastman if they could use his study, so he, Warren and Sgt. Hawkins could
devise a plan.

  Jake figured with this information they could work through Clancy and nail Marks and Johnson, which would in turn smoke out Doug Winters. Great plan on the surface, but how would they implement it? Part of the concern was the safety of Sgt. Hawkins, both professionally and personally.

  They decided to have Warren call Capt. Clancy anonymously and tell him he saw the exchange in the park. This would first, keep Sgt. Hawkins out of the picture and, second, force Clancy to contact Marks. If Jake had this figured right, Marks would immediately contact Winters. Marks was, if nothing else, a self-preservationist, and there was no way in the world he was going to take the fall for Sonja’s death. He’d do anything to save his own skin.

  Once they got this going, it would certainly cast doubt on the case against Ty, which in turn would affect Morgan’s trial. Jake figured all they had to do was get the ball rolling and then let the fed’s take it from there.

  Sunday evening was drawing to a close and they’d all racked their brains, considering every possibility, every angle. The plan was in place. They decided early Monday morning Warren would call Capt. Clancy and plant the seed. Jake would be ready to follow him. Sgt. Hawkins would go about her business as if nothing had happened. They let Mr. Eastman know what was going on and went outside. Jake stopped them by his car, “Well, here goes. Let’s hope this falls the way we want it to and, thanks Carol for coming forward. This could well be the turning point in the case.”

  Carol thanked them both and as she drove off Warren said, “Thank God she stepped up. She seems like a brave woman.”

  “Yep, I couldn’t agree more,” Jake said sliding into his car seat. “Okay, you call Clancy first thing and then call me right away. I’ll be waiting to tail him when he leaves the station. There’s no way he’s going to contact Marks from the police station. I imagine he’ll go somewhere else and call him, or if we’re real lucky, go right to his office. That, however, is a long shot. Whichever, I’ll be on him like a wet blanket.”

  “You got it. Then let me know so I can tell Mr. Eastman.”