In Case of Death (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 3)

by J. T. Lewis

  The $200 he had lifted from the prostitute late that night had funded the start of the journey that led to where he was today.

  Slipping on the scuffed boots, he kneeled to tie them before standing and leaving the confines of the vault. Locking the door behind him, he headed to the stairway to gather the tools he would need to finish what needed finishing.

  He was transformed as he felt the calm now enveloping him. The teen that had escaped the system had the balls to carry out his new plan, using his desperation to feed the angry soul within.

  He would do this…he had trained himself to do this!

  What Roy had accomplished in the shed that day probably wasn’t what he had intended, but Bill had indeed taken a lesson from the relatively short time he had been in the care of the most Reverend, Roy Jakes.

  Chapter 67

  September 27, 1999

  “Don’t go! It’s too dangerous!” May cried out while pulling on my arm frantically.

  “You need me Gabe,” I heard from my other side, turning to see Raven pulling me the other way. “I need you too you know!”

  Leaning in close to my ear, she then whispered, “And I can make you squirm!”

  What the hell was going on? I thought to myself with confusion.

  Only moments ago, I had entered the room, sitting down to enjoy the usual comforts that it always graciously offered me. I had noticed a move had been made by my unseen opponent on the chess board, and I had been intensely studying my next move when my eyelids had started feeling heavy.

  Next thing I know, I’m the rope in the middle of a frantic tug of war!

  And the back of my neck was burning like blazes!

  “Go where?” I ask, “And why are you guys trying to pull me apart?”

  “You can’t go!” May exclaimed. “They will kill you!”

  They? ...Kill me?

  Up until that point, I thought May was merely asking me not to go with Raven.

  “You have to go Gabe!” Raven said sadly from my side, “It’s your destiny. I just want you to go with me in your heart!”

  An unknown fear gripped me suddenly.

  ***

  “What are you talking about?” I yelled into the silence, realizing then that I was sitting up in my bed.

  Looking over, the illuminated numbers of the clock grinned back at me, reminding me once again that it was morning.

  I fell back into my pillow, the material feeling damp from my fear.

  I had of course realized awhile back that this series of dreams were unusual in that they seemed to have nothing to do with the current case at hand. Always in the past, the visions would eventually lead me to a clue or an idea that would help in an investigation.

  However, I was at a loss as to how to interpret these current dreams.

  I understood that there seemed to be a choice being offered, with the angels weighing heavily in the favor of May if I was reading it right.

  But why?

  Although I was feeling better about it, I was still far from comfortable with the fact that Betty was no longer here with me.

  I would always feel the hole in my heart that her loss had left me with.

  And that’s the way that I wanted it!

  That anybody would interject on my life their judgment that it was time to move on angered the shit out of me!

  I am moving on, I mumbled as I got out of bed and pulled on my clothes, moving toward the door and making my way down the stairs.

  Aren’t I?

  ***

  The comforting smell of coffee and toasted bagel filled the kitchen, the familiarity easing the angst I had been feeling earlier.

  “Morning!” I heard gaily behind me as Abby entered the kitchen. “Is that for me?” she asked with a grin, pointing to the bagel that had just popped out of the toaster.

  “How did you know?” I lied with a smile as I gingerly lifted the pieces onto a paper plate and handed them to my daughter.

  Giving me a hug, Abby then took the plate and made her way to the refrigerator for cream cheese before taking everything to the table.

  “Everything ok this morning?” she asked with a concerned look, “I heard you yell out a little while ago.”

  Plopping another bagel into the toaster, I carried two cups of coffee over to the table and sat down across from Abby.

  “Yes,” I sighed, “Another unexplainable dream, warning about some unknown danger.”

  “Nothing you could put your finger on?” Abby asked before hungrily biting into her breakfast.

  “Nope,” I replied between sips, “But May and Raven both seemed to know what it was about in the dream, so it wouldn’t seem it was relevant to this case…or maybe it is, I don’t know.”

  “You dreamed about May and Raven?” Abby asked with a snarky grin, “Talk about ménage a trois!”

  My face reddened at her suggestion as I decided it was time for more coffee.

  “You have a very vivid imagination kid,” I said while facing the coffee pot.

  Luckily, a knock at the door sounded, relieving me of any further discussion on the subject.

  “Sorry to come by so early,” Preacher smiled as I opened the door, “But I figured you’d be up.”

  I waved him in, “Want some coffee?”

  “Absolutely!” he exclaimed as he made his way to the table. “All things work together for good to them that love the Lord…coffee being no exception!”

  I smiled as I retrieved another cup.

  “How are you today Miss Abby?” Preacher asked as he took his seat.

  “I’m fine!” she answered as she took the last bite of her bagel, “But Gabe seems to be having issues with his love life!”

  Preacher slapped the table with glee as he had a chuckle at Abby’s pronouncement.

  “All right young lady,” I sighed, “That will be quite enough of that!”

  Her shy grin let me know that she was relenting…but only for now. Abby wasn’t shy about anything!

  “I wanted to let you know that I made some connections to some people at the courier service yesterday,” Preacher explained between sips.

  “Great!” I exclaimed, “What’d you find out?”

  “Only that they have no records of ever making a delivery to the address of our pulverized pervert.”

  That took me by surprise, to say the least.

  “Ever?” I questioned unbelievingly.

  “Never!” Preacher added, “But…”

  “Don’t-cha love the way he doles out information a little at a time,” Abby smirked, “Remind you of anybody?”

  My partners grinned at each other.

  “Yeah, you guys are a riot!” I moaned. “You were saying Preacher?”

  “The kid I talked to working the counter last night remembers a man coming in the day before the explosion and buying a shipping tube like we found under the bed.”

  “Awesome!” Abby exclaimed.

  Nodding, Preacher continued. “Said he asked for a shipping label before he left.”

  “He give you a description?” I asked excitedly.

  “Medium height, slight of build, dark hair, roughly the same as the others we’ve heard about our mysterious Bill Jones. The kid said he wore a ball cap low over his face, and was wearing dark sunglasses.”

  I sat back to digest the information. “So maybe he made the delivery personally, maybe just pretending to be a delivery guy. Maybe Bill and our Alonzo Gates had never actually met?”

  “Seems a reasonable assumption to me,” Preacher stated, “It would make sense to compartmentalize things so that no one knew too much about anything except what they were responsible for.”

  I nodded, Preacher’s assumptions striking me as a solid theory.

  “I got the kid to let me have a look at their security video for $20,” Preacher continued.

  “Did you get a look at him?” Abby chimed in excitedly.

  Nodding, Preacher reached into his baby blue jacket, extracting a folded piece o
f paper.

  “Another $30 bucks bought me a printout.”

  Abby and I leaned in for a closer look. What we saw was a fairly good photo of a man dressed in jeans and a light-colored button-down shirt, the dark blue baseball cap pulled low over his dark sunglasses.

  Although it didn’t give me a lot of details, I felt a slight sense of accomplishment at finally seeing an image of the mysterious Bill Jones.

  “One other detail struck me on my way over here this morning,” Preacher stated, leaning back in his chair again with a disturbed look on his face.

  “What’s that?” I asked as I continued to study the photograph.

  “With the determination he has shown to destroy any potential witnesses,” he started, leaning forward again seriously, “And him now losing his boy and all…”

  His thoughts came rushing into my head before he got them out of his mouth.

  “Will Bill now handle our destruction personally?”

  Chapter 68

  September 27, 1999

  “We believe that the men called William Marcel and William Tullier are in fact the same man,” Abby announced to the room.

  We were gathered around the conference table in Allen’s office. He had called the meeting to share some of the forensic findings of the hit-man’s apartment, as well to try to get everyone on the same page in the investigation.

  “We also believe this to be the same man that went by the name of Martin Fonteyn, one of the people listed as an “owner” in the Bluegrass Mutual Insurance Company,” Abby continued. “He is also known as Bill Jones to people that work at various courthouses in the region.”

  Abby and I were there, as well as Nate, along with both May and Raven. Allen thought it would be good to meet our clients since they themselves had done some of the investigative work.

  Preacher of course was not in attendance.

  My friends had already been questioned by Allen, as they described in detail how they had happened upon the plot and found the other murders before they had called me in on the case.

  “Have you lined out how this guy picked his victims, or how any of it worked for that matter? I’m still a little fuzzy on what this guy gets out of it for all of his troubles.”

  “May probably has the best grasp on the workings of the trusts, would you mind trying to explain it to us May?” I asked my friend sitting beside me.

  Nodding her head imperceptibly, she started in nervously.

  “Ok, I’ll try to explain this in simple terms, because there is nothing simple about how these trusts were set up,” she expressed softly as she opened up her notes.

  “Simply put, this man would seek out men with varying degrees of wealth that routinely traveled overseas. He would sell them on the idea of an Irrevocable Life Insurance Trust to avoid inheritance taxes, and then he would set it up for them. The trust would then take over ownership of any life insurance policies the owner already had in effect, as well as supply a new Whole Life policy as per the contract that the victims signed. The amount of the monthly fees for administering the trust, as well as the amount of the new life insurance itself would seem to have been set based on the insured’s level of wealth.”

  “For instance,” she continued as she flipped her notes to the next page, “my husband’s yearly billings amounted to approximately $30,000, while Raven’s husband’s was more on the level of $100,000. The amounts of their new policies also reflected this dichotomy, with the amount of Tom’s, my husband’s, being approximately 30% that of Raven’s husband Calvin.”

  Looking around the table, I noticed that May had everyone’s rapt attention, many of them nodding in understanding at her simplification of the complicated legalities.

  “Here is where it gets a little speculative on my part. Anyone can administer a trust, but they are limited by law in most states to a 5% fee. An attorney however can collect more, dependent on the state in which they are working.”

  “These trusts also have a setup fee that is paid up front, as well as the monthly fees needed to maintain the insurance policies and administer the trust.”

  Setting down her notes, May looked up seriously.

  “The best I can tell, this man would charge exorbitant setup fees and administration costs, as well as inflating the premium cost of the added insurance policy when he set up the trusts. I believe he would then use this excess money to set up a series of simple term life insurance policies in the owner’s name, listing himself as the beneficiary.”

  Shocked or confused looks came from many of those around the table.

  “How can he do that?” Allen questioned, leaning forward with interest. “I’m no expert on this, but doesn’t the owner have to sign for them?”

  May shook her head, “The owner has effectively signed that duty over to the administrator of the trust.”

  Shaking his head in wonderment, Allen sat back in his chair once more, deep in thought for a few moments before he looked back up at May. “I’m sorry May, please continue.”

  “Ok, again this is speculation, but Abby and I did some research on Term Insurance Policies. A normal person can pick up a $100,000 policy very reasonably, many of those without getting any kind of physical exam. As long as you stay at that level of coverage or below, it would be relatively easy to acquire a policy.”

  “How come no one has noticed these payouts?” Nate asked with interest, “I mean, especially someone like the IRS? That much unreported income would surely ring an alarm with those guys.”

  “He could have set it up so that the insurance company paid the taxes before dispensing the money,” Abby Interjected with a shrug. “Or he could have just paid it himself. As long as the taxes get paid, they probably wouldn’t look much farther.”

  “But wouldn’t they notice when his name kept popping up with life insurance payouts?” Nate added, seeming determined to find a hole in the theory.

  “I guess that would be possible,” Abby continued, “But don’t forget he uses a different identity for each of his victims.”

  “Don’t the insurance companies talk to each other?” Raven interjected, she having not been involved in this part of the investigation. “I mean, you would think they would notice a trend if Calvin suddenly started buying a massive amount of smaller insurance policies?”

  “We talked to a couple of insurance company underwriters,” May interjected. “Basically; they said that they look at an individual’s age and his credit rating to see if the customer can afford it. They will sometimes ask to see their medical records, but seldom on a policy of $100,000 or less. They try to determine the overall risk to their company, they are not really concerned with any other policies that individual may have. Basically, the companies never talk to each other, unless they would get wind of something suspicious. In that case, their investigator may send out queries to the different companies.”

  “Don’t you have to hold a policy for so long before it pays off in full?” Nate again interjected.

  May nodded, “Most are two years, depending on company policies and regulations. And existing policies transferred to a trust also have a period of time before they are fully in the control of the trust. All of the murders were committed after the policies involved were past the “contestability period”.

  “My God!” Allen exclaimed, “This guy really had it laid out! This literally must have taken years to plan out!”

  Leaning forward, “So when he had the policy owner’s murdered, he would pay off what was expected, pay the taxes on everything to keep the revenue people at bay, and then keep the proceeds of all of the term policies for his troubles.”

  “That’s what we are surmising,” May stated with a nod.

  “That’s excellent work!” Allen beamed, “Will you ladies be available to consult on other cases when this one is completed?”

  May and Raven beamed at the compliment.

  “I still don’t get it,” Nate interjected once more, “Why didn’t anybody ever complain?”
>
  “Complain about what?” Abby replied seriously, “He told them the costs up front, as well as what their families would receive if they died. Grieving people don’t go looking for things when they get everything that has been promised. Plus, none of the victims seemed to know each other. If it wasn’t for May and Raven getting to know one another, this scheme may have never come to light.”

  Seeming satisfied, Nate leaned back in his chair, slowly blowing out his breath as he absorbed Abby’s story.

  “My investigators have been in touch with some of the other victims’ families, and we should be receiving copies of their individual ICOD binders soon,” Allen pronounced as he read through some notes in front of him. Looking up again, “I have also been in touch with the various Attorney General’s offices of the three states that we know of that had victims, as well as the prosecutors of the various counties where the apparent victims lived. They have all offered to help in any way they can, but want us to stay on point as the lead in the investigation.”

  Pulling out a folder, Allen continued.

  “As to the forensics of our dead assassin, we have yet to find any identifying factors as to his true identity. Having over twenty passports in his possession, we are not sure that any of them are real. We may never know.”

  “I’m not sure finding out who our Alonzo Gates really is would be that important at this point,” I brought up. “To my mind, it was probably just a business relationship. I don’t see either one of these ghosts creating a lasting relationship with anyone from their past. In fact, we’ve uncovered some information that points to the possibility that Bill actually delivered the last payment to Alonzo, disguised as a messenger. We now think that other than the interaction while the delivery was being made, these two may have never met.”

  Opening a folder I had brought with me, I took out a copy of the picture that Preacher had obtained from the delivery service and laid it down in front of Allen.