The Killing Collective
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THE KILLING COLLECTIVE
A Stand-Alone Stanford Carter Murder Mystery/Thriller
Written and Created By
Gary Starta
Written and Edited by
Robin Firestone
Copyright 2017 – All Rights Reserved
Please click or turn to the back of the story for contact information, The Killing Collective Face Book page, The Killing Collective N.Y.C. Tour and Book Club Questions!
“Pygmalion had seen them living a life through crime, and having been affected by their wickedness….he sculpted white ivory happily with wondrous art and wondrous skill, and gave it form with which no woman is able to be born, and he fell in love with his own work”
- Ovid
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
The Killing Collective – NYC Tour Guide
THE KILLING COLLECTIVE – BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
Chapter One
In a pitch-black auditorium known only to those invited, hundreds of people sat in a blanket of silence alive with the electricity of anticipation. They held a collective breath as a giant movie screen slowly lowered itself from the ceiling to center stage. Suddenly and without introduction of any kind, it blinked to life, revealing the 40-foot image of a handsome, charismatic gentleman of an indeterminate age with his head bowed. Slowly, he lifted his face until his intensely blue eyes met those of every living soul in the audience. A master of theater, his long silent stare turned their burning fascination into a fire he could feel and control. The moment had arrived to fan the fire into flames. Dramatically, he raised his arms over his head in a grandiose gesture of welcome and announced himself.
“Good evening. I am…the Silver Man!”
The audience jumped to their feet and went wild. Looking stoic, he patiently waited at least five full minutes before they quieted down so he could continue.
“Welcome, all of you, to the Collective, a sociopolitical community of people who want a better, brighter economic future for themselves. Tonight’s discussion will begin by exploring the reasons we, the 99%, have been trapped in a pit of quicksand where we will drown in poverty while the 1% continues to grow richer and fatter. Once you all understand why and how you’ve all been targeted as the fall guys with no other choice than to die quietly and alone, you will be taught exactly how you have the absolute and undeniable ability to reverse it, not only for future generations to come, but right now and for yourselves, so that you may enjoy the fruits of your own labor without ever having to fight for them again!
“The cost of obtaining a college degree and paying back the loan is, for most of you, suddenly out of reach. Those lucky enough to have jobs and keep them for any length of time must still find two more just to stay alive. Where there used to be hope, there is only despair. In a country once known for moving boldly forward, a new breed of Capitol Hill robber barons are busy setting us back a hundred years in terms of the freedoms and rights guaranteed to all by the constitution, true suffrage for people of color, human rights, the availability and growth of decent jobs in this country, the ability of the middle classes to afford college educations, equal pay for equal jobs, wages we can live on, and decent and affordable healthcare as a right of every American.
“More and more bills are disguised as badly needed reforms when, in reality, they are smoke screens for the huge tax breaks corporations, big insurance, and big pharma will receive at your expense. This once great nation is becoming a third world country where nothing is made and nothing is sold. The chasm between the haves and have-nots has all but erased the middle classes who have been cut off at the knees. Upward mobility is thing of the past! We have gone back to feudalism, except that our overlords have access to technology that can tell them where you go, what you read, and what you spend on products and services. There are satellites in space that can tell Big Brother the color of the pants you’re wearing as you relax in your own living room watching television!”
The Silver Man paused briefly for dramatic effect.
“Most of you have roots going back generations enough to understand this; the American dream has never been anything more than a hateful nightmare. Your president and his friends would like the world to think they stand for truth, freedom, and justice, but all they believe in are alternative facts, economic slavery, and justice for those who can afford it.
“These, and many other factors have combined to create the perfect storm - one giant and unstoppable chain reaction. We need to stop pretending and face the fact that the whole damn house of cards is coming down, and it’s coming down on us! There is no possible way to fix a system gone horribly wrong, and there will be no rescuing you from its effects if you don’t do something about it on your own right away, so I won’t bother telling you otherwise. Every one of us here tonight knows that we are on our own, with nowhere to turn for help. Some of us have already reached the end of the road and many more are close behind.”
Alison Whiteway turned to the man seated on her right and whispered, “Wow! He’s incredible! Why is he called the Silver Man?”
“Because he has to hide his identity. That’s why he only appears on a movie screen from an unknown location. Washington says he’s an anarchist and a mad man. I suppose he is, in some ways, but he’s also right. Shhh! I want to hear this.”
The Silver Man delivered a stunning blow causing many to gasp out loud. “Within one year, the domino effect will ensure that only those that already have money, and a lot of it, will survive. The rest of you will not. It’s as simple as that.”
“Holy shit!” Alison was unaware she’d spoken.
“Shhh!!”
“Right about now, some of you are thinking that I’m flat out wrong or even crazy. Some of you are thinking that if you’re lucky you might still scrape by. The rest of you are thinking that you’ll just have to hang on as long as you can. And when that is no longer possible, you’ll do the unthinkable and go out quietly, like lambs.
“So, if everything I have told you so far is the truth, why am I here instead of drinking myself to death?” The Silver Man lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Because I know something your government has known for more than three centuries and doesn’t want you to hear. You and I are NOT here to police and save the world for democracy because there is no such thing as long as your government jumps to the tune of big money, big corporations, big donators, and big business. Your politicians are supposed to fight for your interests and our interests as a whole country, but how many times have you heard your senator say he will only support a bill that reflects h
is own state’s interests but really meaning his biggest donors’ interests? How many times has he promised you the moon and then made a secret back room horse-trade that sacrificed your needs for his pet projects? Well?”
Applause shook the auditorium. The Silver Man paused to encourage the beginnings of insurrection. So far he hadn’t said one word about how this all came about; he only spoke about what had come about and why he thought so, but no one seemed to notice or care and that was a good sign. The point was to upset them while appearing brilliant, strong and fatherly so that they’d follow him into the jaws of hell if he asked them to do it. The Silver Man was very skilled in the art of misdirection.
“You and I are not the world, the country, or the government; we are simply people – individuals – trying to live decently and in peace. Make no mistake, ladies and gentlemen, there is a war going on all around you, and there has been, for some time. It’s a war meant to demoralize, decrease, and destroy us so that there is more to go around for them, and when we are at war, we have a right to defend ourselves and survive any way we can.
“I ask you now; are you prepared to go out like lambs, without so much as a whimper? Or will you fight to the death if you have to?”
An explosion of voices flew straight up to the heavens in one massive blast, while the reverberation of stamping feet sounded like rolling thunder. Alison had never seen anything like it. She sat perfectly still, rapt and silent, trying to decide whether she wanted to cheer or sob. The only thing she knew for sure was that this man was speaking directly to her.
The Silver Man pierced their ears with the seeds of insurgency and anarchy, urging them towards anger, blame and hatred. And he was just getting started. He shouted passionately, “If you, your family and your community – this community - must be protected and defended, is it right to fight? I say it’s more than right. I SAY IT’S A NECESSITY! Men and women go to war every day knowing that they will be called upon to kill or die. They go willingly because it’s their duty to defend their country, but what that means to most of us is community, home, and family. We do what we have to because we know there is divine altruism in fighting and even killing to save, protect and defend one’s ideals and way of life. And that is what every one of you must do if you plan to survive and thrive when the house of cards comes down!!”
Cheers, chants, whistles and screams could be heard blocks away, feeding the Silver Man’s enormous ego and egging him on. He changed gears again, carefully lowering and leveling his tone to move the audience from a state of a frenzied willingness to fight to one of faith and trust in his ability to save them all. “This country and the world around us may become bankrupt, but you, the individual, do not have to be swept up in the maelstrom. I will teach each and every one of you how to fight back and win, and we will start our lessons this very evening.”
He paused again to dry his brow with a white linen handkerchief. The Silver Man was pleased. He smiled to himself like the cat that stole the cream.
Give them a reason for their suffering - one they’re willing to believe. Make sure they think it’s the fault of a definite group of people they can blame and justify hating. Then, turn them loose to play judge, jury and executioner.
Some of the attendees, the first-timers, listened in horror and got up to leave, never noticing that the Silver Man’s staff were jotting down their names to monitor their movements from that moment on. Those who stayed would be monitored just as closely.
***
The Silver Man produced a longing in Alison so great that she felt she would do anything he asked if only she could belong to this community. She’d found religion and a messiah to worship all in one shot.
I’ll dedicate myself to this man and this community if they’ll have me. I swear I’ll tear down what can’t be fixed and build a better America for myself, according to his plan.
Astonished and enlightened, she listened to every word he said - every awful syllable - allowing his words to flood her consciousness with new ideas.
“Sometimes actions we think are bad or wrong, are actually, under the right circumstances, considered good and righteous! Peaceful protest is always the first line of defense, but in a war meant to annihilate you, defense must be cast aside in favor of offense. When your home, work, and daily bread are at stake, all bets are off! Violence is justified, even required, when war is declared on social and economic justice and your rights and freedoms. Dirty politics, crimes against humanity, treason, and attempts to destroy the democratic process must always be killed before they can take root and grow too strong to fight.”
The lights went on at the same time the screen went blank. Someone stepped up to a microphone and announced a short ten-minute break, after which the Silver Man was going to talk about something called “Social Protectionism”. Alison hoped it would address her growing need to know what she could do to fight back to save herself and the community that already felt like family to her. She stayed glued to the spot until the room was cloaked in darkness again and he returned for the second half of his speech.
“Periods of upheaval and turmoil - even complete destruction – are sometimes required to bring down evil empires and build true democracies in their place. Just as we protect our homes from thieves, our women from rapists and murderers, and our country from terrorists, you will learn how to use the tools of Social Protectionism to route the enemies of the people and make America great again!
“Who are your enemies? They are those who try to steal everything you ever had or could aspire to achieve. Together, we will decide who they are and how we will fight them. And then…then we will toss out those enemies with yesterday’s garbage! Only then can you learn how to regain the power of solvency and realize your dreams of a better life.”
The already indoctrinated mob was perilously close to the breaking point. The Silver Man had them right where he wanted them.
***
To Alison’s left sat Jeannie, a casual acquaintance who could barely tolerate her. Jeannie stayed this long only because she was Alison’s ride home. She listened with a florid face, clamped lips, and squinty eyes. She’d driven Alison all the way to New York City from Sayreville, New Jersey for this, and she was good and mad about it. Was she the only one in the auditorium who thought he sounded like a raving lunatic? On the other hand, Adolph Hitler and Charlie Manson were raving lunatics, and people listened to them. She shuddered because it didn’t matter whether or not the Silver Man really believed anything he said tonight. All that mattered was that the people around her believed every word.
***
“We will meet again regularly to share our thoughts and ideas and begin the process of transformation. I also promise you that as a member of this close-knit community, you will experience an intensity of friendship and camaraderie you’ve never known before.
“WELCOME…TO THE EVER-GROWING FOLD OF THE COLLECTIVE!!”
A blizzard of silver glitter fell from somewhere above them as if it was New Year’s Eve. The audience leaped to their feet, some laughing and others crying and hugged each other in a perverse show of fraternity. Once more, the Silver Man, like an over-indulgent father, waited patiently for the crowd to quiet down. “Each of you will receive a personalized invitation by email to our meetings, which will never be held in the same place twice for your protection and mine.”
Softly and deadly serious, he delivered a parting blow as a warning to those he knew would attempt to turn him in. “The information we share here is secret and classified. Before our work is done, some of you will try to betray me. Those that break my covenant shall be considered an enemy of the Collective and will be dealt with accordingly.”
He paused to let that last bit sink in as well as to change his tone to one more conciliatory and hospitable. “And now, I invite you all to get up, move forward to the open area on stage and spend the next hour getting to know each other amid soft music, wonderful finger food and the very finest champagne. The social element of o
ur meetings is important because the exchange and discussion of new ideas reinforces the ideals of the Collective. It is equally important because we want you to understand that within the warmth and security of our own community, you are no longer alone. Thank you all for being here tonight. Until we meet again, I bid you good night.”
The chimera reared one last time, roaring its approval and shouting for more. The Silver Man lowered his head again, this time humbly as if in prayer, and held that pose. At the very height of the deafening applause, the screen blinked off and he was gone.
***
Jeannie and Alison milled around, meeting some of the others and sampling the hors d'oeuvres. Delicious-looking drinks were passed around by waiters dressed in bright red jackets with gold braiding. Smooth jazz floated through the air, and the lights dimmed just enough to create an atmosphere of friendly intimacy.
As soon as they had a moment alone, Jeannie let loose. “What a load of horseshit, Allie! Can you believe that nut job? And what’s up with the incognito act?” She flailed her arms in the air and mimicked his voice. “I have the plan that will make you solvent! All you have to do is eliminate the competition! Embrace the community!”
“I think he discussed a lot of very interesting ideas.”
“Oh, come on!”
“I liked what he had to say, Jeannie. Don’t you think it’s about time we stood up for ourselves and focused on the actual people keeping us behind the eight ball instead of blaming it on an unchangeable system? A very few ruthless, uncaring people have everything, Jeannie, and it’s not fair! Why not take the chance to build something better if we can? Why not let people know they’re done eating our slice of the American pie?”
“Oh, Allie, get real! You can’t change the government and economy as if you were putting on a new dress. You can’t tear down a society and rebuild it the way you want it. They put you in jail for that, Allie, and throw away the key.”
A staff member approached. “Good Evening, ladies. You are Alison Whiteway, I believe? I am Peter, one of the Silver Man’s assistants. His executive staff would like to take a few moments to introduce themselves to you and get to know you a little. Would you follow me please?”