by Claire Perry
“Rabbi?” Matt held up a hand as Joe came striding in. His wide eyes said that something had gone horribly wrong. He swept his pistol out of his pocket and trained it instantly to the altar.
“A firearm in the house of God, really?” A voice purred in disgust. One they knew.
The Sabbath candles lit up.
“This is sacrilegious!” Matthew twisted around and spat. There sat Rabbi Hewitt with Kenneth Law beside him, twisted in log chains on the floor.
“Ken? What?” Matt’s eyes popped open confused.
“I’m sorry, Matt. I had a few of Claudia’s early notes, too. She kept several different notebooks and disposed of ones with less info before starting a new one so that if anybody found them, they’d be misled.
“I guess all roads lead to synagogue, right? Least they would if Journey had always had her way. I led them here, but I swear it was an accident.” Kenneth grimaced and turned to face the Rabbi.
“It’s alright, Matthew. If this is my time, then I am pleased to be in your rare company!” The Rabbi held up a hand. He was as placid as a newborn lamb.
Jude Thorn stepped around the candlestick. His face was covered in paper tape and gauze.
“Matthew Erickson… Ah, I’ve spent so many years trying to bury you.”
Matthew froze. It was strange to be face to face with the man that tormented him all those years ago.
“Apollo White. Back from the grave, I see. I thought the charges I got you on for the Cameroon cartel was enough to put you away for eternity.” Matt smirked. Joe could feel him trembling beside him, but the man would never show any kind of emotion on the surface if it was in his power to conceal it.
Jude Thorn, now identified as Apollo White, stepped into the center of the platform and looked to Heaven with mocking laughter.
“God help you, foolish Matthew! The pursuit of justice is so futile it’s almost laughable. A man with a law degree can be born again as many times as it pleases him.” Apollo giggled into his palm femininely.
“Grandpa?” A small boy stepped out of a storage room.
“Joseph Cornwell, it’s wonderful that you could join us for tonight. I noticed that you missed my meeting, but it’s not that big of a deal. The Board of Directors, my family I mean, came to a decision about the fate of Mrs. Alice Cornwell and anyone that would stand up and defend her on our own.
“I hope you know that once I have framed the end of your mother, upon your request, I will accept the payment we discussed. Remember how I said and you agreed, Mr. Cornwell, not six months ago that the payment I would accept for my services would not be so much monetary as it would be dignitary? I will require a position in your company. A high priority one.” He rubbed his fingers together.
“I’m of a mind to fire you. It’s become evident by this action that you are far guiltier than my mother.” Joe was trembling. His eyes couldn’t leave the face of the small boy. He recognized him from the day he’d visited Anita’s still grieving family around four years ago. He’d been identified to him as Max White, Anita’s brother’s young child. The boy was about 8 now, but still unmistakable.
“I don’t think that’s an option, son. See, I feel entitled to this position. We’re family. Isn’t that right, Austin? Why don’t you ask your Dad to consider my offer?”
Joe froze. Apollo turned to face him with a sinister grin. The kid drew backward a step, eyes wide with worry.
“That’s right. We chose to keep you in the dark about your son. If you’d known the baby you hadn’t wanted survived that night, you might have been less inclined to get revenge on the woman that abused and manipulated you into signing over 30 million dollars for her bereaved family. They weren’t bereaved yet, but throw in one wild card thief and accuse the mother that you already hate for saying ‘no’ to you when your whiny, bratty self should hear it?” Apollo held his hand out. Joe flinched till his bones clicked together. He would have come forward swinging had Matt not caught his shoulders.
Anita came out of another storage room, holding the chains to her many fighting dogs. They held in their teeth and drug across the floor a groaning Alice Cornwell.
“Anita!” Joe choked out.
“So, I guess this is the answer to why my sister was involved. You needed someone to be the casualty of a staged first act to your Cornwell Enterprises takeover. You, a notorious gang member that I landed behind bars for over 15 years, had a personal vendetta against me. Which is why you set your daughter on my over-friendly little sister like the hounds of Hell. Journey took the bait because no one expects a damsel in distress to be plotting murder. Journey was the perfect scapegoat for the press. Someone’s death to masquerade and make a martyr out of to incite the public opinion against the Cornwells while you slipped in behind the scenes.” Matt gaped in disgust. The switches were flipping on all of the lights. There was little density remaining to the shadows that had swathed this case.
“Hi, baby. It’s been ages, hasn’t it?” Anita giggled but stayed where she was.
“Joe?” Alice looked up from the floor, eyes wide. She’d only heard half of this conversation. Mind clouded with fear and rage, she was only aware of her son being present.
Joe reeled, speechless, mindless from the horror. Everything he’d been trying to achieve for eight years – his marriage, his entire career as the head over Cornwell Enterprises… He’d been the puppet of a family operated gang this entire while.
“Let us proceed to the location of Mrs. Cornwell’s execution in an orderly fashion.” Apollo waved them on. The dogs drug a whimpering, unintelligibly chattering Alice away from the scene.
Joe and Matt exchanged a glance. Joe saw a look in Matt’s eyes that told him he was about to do something incredibly reckless.
Chapter 8
Alice felt the bag get ripped away from her head again. She stood frozen, confused. Everything was spiraling out of control.
“Mom. I’m sorry. I was wrong…” Joe was standing at the edge of the concert stage they were using as her execution scaffold. Alice recognized this as the park where she used to take Joe for soccer as a little boy. They used to have free concerts here long ago. This pavilion probably hadn’t been used for anything other than high school drama practice in the last 10 years. It was ripe for someone like Apollo White to commandeer and use for his own devices.
Alice twisted back and saw that there was a tall iron pole behind her that had been fixed to the stage. She swallowed. There were chains dangling from it.
“Mrs. Cornwell, have you ever been to South Africa?” Apollo smiled. Alice gulped.
“Yes.” She had no idea what they were planning to do to her, but she refused to show any fear even in this moment. She had to give her son an image that would haunt him – cause him to remember her as she was.
“Chain her to the stake where she can’t move away.” Apollo nodded to his grandson. The little boy shrank back.
“Anita. Your son is too young. Perhaps you will be capable of my request.”
“Wait.” It was Matt’s voice.
“What did you say?” Apollo was holding a tire full of gasoline. He was about to lace it over Alice’s neck.
“I’d like to make an exchange. I’m the one who brought you down, right? You wanted to hurt me and you still can. There will be time to unravel Cornwell Enterprises later. As a matter of fact,” Matt produced a piece of paper from his back pocket.
“The whole company is bankrupt. This isn’t a game show, White. You and I both know that you’ll have to take the 30 million your daughter scored for you and walk away. Take this to your Grandad, will ya?” Matthew handed the little boy the paper. Apollo looked at it. It was a detailed look at the inner workings of Cornwell’s accounting.
“Tax fraud, really, Joseph?” Alice was horrified.
“I… I have 20 different consultants when it comes to the books.” Joe shifted on his heels.
“So, you’re proposing an exchange? How noble. Idiotic, though. I’m not going to j
ust hand over Alice Cornwell when I have her on the scaffold waiting to be necklaced. It’s the most poetic ending for the Jewel of the Universe, don’t you think?” Apollo was hoarse-laughing at Matt between words.
“No, you won’t hand her over. But if I do this…” Matt plucked a knife from his boot and hurled it at Anita’s hand. She shrieked and let the dogs go. They made for Apollo and Alice.
“I guess they’re not the loyal beasts you bred them for after all when you get them off their chain!” Matt’s voice echoed over the park. Alice scrambled. One massive pitbull had sunk its teeth into the flesh of her leg. Blood oozed up in scarlet pearls. She howled, this situation still so surreal.
“I’ve got you. He’s saving us! Come on!” Joe swooped in. It was the last thing she’d dreamed of. He scooped her out of the midst, kicking the dog’s head to the side. It swung and snapped around before Anita’s handlers could shoot it full of tranquilizers.
Kenneth came lunging forward, having worked his way out of his chains.
“Go for your son, Joe! You have legal parental rights if the mother is unfit! I’ll get them away from here and we’ll get to work decoding Claudia’s book!” Kenneth grabbed Alice out of Joe’s grasping hands.
Joe spun on his heel, watching the commotion as Matthew swung his arms and legs, head and shoulders into his assailants. Anita had come down on him wielding a brass-gilded dog’s jaw. He was lost. As soon as they were clear from the scene, he would be put through the same brutal African execution his mother had almost faced.
Joe froze, jaw dropped, watching the man whose life he had shipwrecked now defending the life of his family. He paused just long enough so that their gaze met one more time. Matt nodded, knowing full well what he was doing.
“Get ‘em out of here, Joe. Have the Rabbi read Claudia’s notes. You’ll find everything you need to bring your life back out of the ashes.” He turned back to the fight.
Joe moved to the little boy’s side. To his surprise, the child didn’t shrink back. Joe felt his arms reach out of instinct, seeing his own young face reflected back on him now.
“Come on, buddy. We have to go now.”
The boy stepped closer.
“Are you my Dad?”
Joe swallowed. He looked up at Alice, who had made her way in a zigzag back to where he stood. Her steadfast eyes told him what it meant to be a parent. She had forgiven him. Even after everything, she had forgiven him.
“Yeah, buddy. I’m your Dad. We’ve got to go.”
---
They had fled back to Claudia’s room in a local general’s ICU. The press was tailing them now, as well as police officers. Dispatchers had been sent to the park where the brutal hand-to-hand combat and extreme execution was taking place.
Joe wanted witnesses as the data Claudia had compiled was revealed. Police would be sent to investigate the things she’d unearthed to confirm that her data lined up with cold facts. Alice would remain guarded until the evening transpired and her fate was determined. Meanwhile, physicians examined Austin to see if he’d been abused in his time with the White family.
Officers were on the alert for Claudia’s awakening. They would attempt to interrogate her as soon as she was lucid concerning the circumstances of her stabbing. If they could prove that a hit attempt was made on Claudia, along with Matthew’s execution, and that Anita White was still alive, they would have enough evidence to form a case against the Whites, enough to re-examine the charges pinned to Alice. The truth was blood-curdling. Police officer, nurse, lawyer and millionaire alike stood slack-jawed as Hewitt read the notes:
“Today I have uncovered Anita White’s diary saved to an Internet documentation app known as “Clover”. Username Millionaire-Or-Bust, Password, Whos-loving-you.
“White can be quoted as confessing in this document her undying love for her father and the gang life her family is preoccupied in. I write ‘is’ because Anita White never died. Eight years ago, as punishment for failing to deliver a massive portion of heroin from a Mexico lab to San Francisco, the thief allegedly hired by Alice Cornwell, Juan Guatavito, was sent to stage a mock assassination of Anita White so that her family could cash in the budget they were assigned as bereavement compensation after her anticipated death.
“A month prior to this, Senor Guatavito and Apollo White, also known as Jude Thorn, Attorney at Law, assisted Anita White in the IED rigging of her own car for the purpose of luring in Professor Journey Erickson-Law, and detonating an explosion of which Law was positioned to take the major impact and so bait the press in the scandal against Alice Cornwell.
“Anita White was guilty of cutting her own brakes the night of Joseph’s minor accident. This was seen as the motive for the waiver of the 30 million dollar budget assigned to her family in the event of her death. Joseph Cornwell was coerced into signing this waver, and so it was, in effect, grand theft…”
The Rabbi drew a shaky breath to continue reading the notebook, but the San Francisco Police Chief Roger Fredenham raised his hand.
“Thank you, Rabbi, but I believe we’ve heard and seen enough this evening to form a fairly convincing case. However, I might like to interview the book’s author…” He looked down as Claudia began coughing around her intubation device. To her nurses’ chagrin, she pulled it free.
“Matthew… Is he… Okay?”
Joe pushed past the officers and nurses and bowed over her.
“It’s alright, Claudia. It’s all going to be alright now.” He ran a hand over her head, smiling gently.
“Joe? You’re here?” She tried to sit up.
“No! Don’t sit up, sweetheart!” Alice rushed to Claudia’s side and laid her back down.
“Alice…” Claudia broke into enraptured tears. Somehow she’d survived to see with her own eyes that the war was over.
Epilogue
She stood and drank it in. It had been nearly a decade since she’d felt the sun rolling down her shoulders, fingering through her hair, caressing her cheeks. Tears began to bead under her eyes. Alice Cornwell, for the first time in eons, was free, standing in the open air.
“This is your home, buddy. You can live here with me until you’re a grownup and longer if you want.” Alice wrapped her hands around her grandson’s shoulders and looked on at the Cornwell manor. Little Austin’s home. Her home. Joseph and Claudia’s home. The pair had been dating for months after the night of Matthew’s sacrifice and were engaged to be married soon. In the meantime, Claudia continued to live at her apartment a few miles from the manor, but had taken up her old job as the groundskeeper.
“Mom…” Joseph came up behind Alice, Claudia on his arm. Joe was emanating the vigor of his news. In the several months that had transpired since his sacrifice, all of the efforts that Matthew Erickson had exhausted in getting justice for his sister had come to fruition.
“You should know, Mom. Guatavito is getting 20 years for what he did to you. Oh, and Anita… Anita gets 150 years on top of her life sentence and the death penalty if anyone so much as thinks about helping her bail. The rest of the gang is being put under the jail. Apollo gets lethal injection.” Joe smiled. This news should be encouraging perhaps, but it wasn’t. Too much damage had been done before this verdict. It would take many years to rebuild what they had lost. What they had wasted.
“That’s not all. Matthew, for taking your place… For all the things he did... They’re building him a statue. It’s going to be in the tulip garden here on the grounds. Beside the wishing well. Oh, and Kenneth Law is being promoted to District Attorney for his part in it all.” Claudia beamed.
Alice looked to the sky and took a deep breath. Despite the painful road it had taken to reach this place, every path had led them here. To the safety of their house.
To peace.
Once more, Alice saw the phantom of her husband, standing in the sun with her now, leaning against the apple tree they had planted together as a family. He was laughing, leaning on his shovel, just like he had done back the
n. Her family grew quiet. They couldn’t see for themselves. Not yet. One day, the eyes of love would make them see the invisible. The broken places in their souls could finally be healed. Out of the midst of the years, the Cornwells and their empire had been redeemed by grace and forgiveness.
“Well, Anders… I told you our son would make it home to us in the end.”
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Claire Perry
Claire Perry is an English writer, born in Liverpool in 1984.
She originally trained as a teacher, but her educational background in journalism has given her a broad base from which to approach many topics. She loves watching thriller films while enjoying her afternoon tea.
She provides book writing coaching and book editing services. She has written several books for many publishers. Recently, she has expanded to the digital markets.
