Dot Com Murder

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Dot Com Murder Page 11

by Emma Lathen


  Chuck enjoyed the thought of the consolidation of everything under the Simply umbrella. The basic growth of the industry, coupled with Simply’s opening price point cheap high quality product offerings, fit the times. The business was growing nicely as were the profits. He thought his 3 goals for the next 300 days should be to pay off the $500 million, streamline the company, and enjoy himself without moving off his property except for getting required supplies. In fact, he thought; he should be able to push the 6 months to 10 months, which would do it to never leave at all, much as Thoreau had said in Walking about Concord. No need to go anywhere else; well there was that wasn’t there, he considered.

  A year before he had added his 1000th book to his Newport library. He had replaced the former house with an elegant cabin with modern conveniences and just a few large rooms to keep the cabin feeling. He did not want a house.

  The cabin foot print was just 900 feet. He had 2 floors. The cabin was sited facing south on a slight rise overlooking a stream, field, lake, and pleasant low Vermont mountains. The living room and library extended the length of the cabin and half way across. The brick floored kitchen was next to it for about a third of the that half of the space. Behind it on that side was a bedroom, shower and toilet for easy access to clean up from traipsing around outside when coming off the screened in porch into the kitchen.

  The windows were boxed colonial style as in Williamsburg to give a cozy feeling versus brazen picture windows. A Vermont Castings stove in the kitchen gave off a warmth, heat, and pleasure. A stone porch extended off the living room and library with steps down to the ground and just a few more paces to the cow path he created down to the stream, across it to his field and lake, with the low mountains in the background.

  The upstairs consisted of his bedroom and study extending the length of the house too, directly above the living room and library, and a second one doing the same on the other side over the kitchen and downstairs bedroom, with a full bathroom between. He had an attic and basement but had little use for them being single with no wife or family to fill it up with their unused things. He kept the rooms spare because cabins were that way and stuff just got in the way in his mind.

  The cabin had a septic system, backup generator that could run for weeks if required, and a sophisticated surveillance system. He had marked off his section of land with a serious, if carefully disguised, high metal fence and well hidden moat nearer the cabin. His single narrow road in had a high locked gate. He had video surveillance cameras around the property activated by motion, which usually was done by animals but occasionally by a trespasser.

  He had had 2 in the time he had owned the property. The first seemed challenged by the fence; climbed it; wandered around a bit; looked in a surveillance camera; thought better of being there and left.

  Just 15 days ago the second expert climbed the fence and fell into the moat he camouflaged nearer the house. The intruder had a serious rifle and military camouflage gear on, so was clearly up to no good. He never got out of the moat. Chuck thought that was just as well.

  Chuck was a mountain man so tracked the man’s trail back to a car with a Wyoming license plate parked some 3 miles away. He investigated. In his car was evidence Jack had hired this killer to take him out.

  Chuck knew he could not leave things as they were. He had to roll up this guy’s life so no one would come looking for him or check out his property. The secrecy the man had to employ not to be arrested helped Chuck cover his own tracks as well. If you live by the sword you die by the sword, Chuck thought not for the first time.

  The man’s ID was in the car. He had his computer and communication devices with him and lived alone in a rented place outside of Sheridan, Wyoming. Chuck then went back to the moat, killed the intruder with a couple of shots, stripped the body, and hauled him out to his car which was some effort since Chuck had to carry him 3 miles through deep woods and this was a big man.

  Then, he emailed the owner of the guy’s place; canceled his lease; told the owner to keep the deposit; sell his stuff off since he was in Florida. An hour later the landlord confirmed and wished him well. He said he had a renter lined up anyway so not to worry about it. Chuck sensed from the email the owner was afraid of the killer, certainly with good reason, and was pleased he was moving on. Good.

  Chuck had then driven the car back to his place; incinerated the body; dumped the ashes in the stream; and driven the car back to Boston. At about 7 AM, after removing the license plates, Chuck left the car with the keys in it near a chop shop in the old Irish section of South Boston. He checked back at 10 AM and the car was gone.

  He took the bus from South Station to Littleton, New Hampshire, and found a high school kid to drive him up to Newport, where he walked the last 3 miles into his property. Being in no hurry helped with his doing this anonymously by taking the low end bus and then waiting for a kid to leave McD’s where he was working to pay him for a ride to drive him up north. He paid well but not too well, to avoid being talked about.

  This was the why of it about his killing Jack. But Chuck knew that any disclosure of the why of it to any authorities would lead to 2 murder charges, albeit with some self-defense justification. But a good DA would defeat him on reasonable force in the first instance and certainly in the second. Mitigation might lead to a sentence of no more than 20 years, but that was a huge risk and a long time inside. So Chuck decided to live with the risk, but with a clear conscience, at least in his own mind.

  Jack had been somewhat surprised to see Chuck a few days later, just before the Simply announcement. It took an experienced person to see Jack’s consternation upon seeing him. Chuck knew he had to take Jack out in a few days or risk another attempt on his life. He delivered on that with the party poisoning.

  Jack jarred himself loose from those old thoughts and focused on everything.com and Simply customers who were happy with the fast service, focused offerings, and cheap price points. He viewed the business like throwing a pebble into a lake; the ripples spread out as long as one didn’t disturb the rest of the lake, which he didn’t plan to do.

  He instructed himself not to get caught up in ever hyping the business because there was no need to do so since there were no employees to pay, stock options to grow, or investors to satisfy. He was the entire audience, well at least after the Sloan had their $500 million he would be.

  When the $500 million was repaid Chuck would have a drink of Costco bourbon, a fine bourbon indeed, meeting his dual personal standards of quality and cheapness, an unbeatable duo.

  Just as that Sloan obligation was completely repaid about 300 days later, Romano wrote him to see if he would take a luxury house, car, and furniture in Key Biscayne in return for $3 million USD. Pietro added that they would deliver the home ownership as he desired or through the trust in the Caymans. Chuck agreed and was told to get a similar U-Haul at the New York Thruway stop he had picked up the $7 million USD and $3 million CDN before. Chuck followed the instructions again.

  Pietro was most pleased and said he would add something else to the pot. Boat, wine, women, what?

  Chuck wrote back that a boat and wine would be nice but not to be unreasonably generous. He wanted to remain liked. Pietro liked his wit and humility, a rare combination; Pietro wrote back saying his lady friend and wife were looking forward to seeing him soon.

  Then Pietro wrote back a few days later that Chuck had to come over soon because of pressure on the home front to have him as a dining and house guest again. He had arranged for Chuck to come over on a luxury cruise in which he could remain anonymous getting on and off, which he knew Chuck liked. Chuck agreed. He would use his John Miller papers, as required, with his own as backup.

  So on the right date Chuck got the McD kid to give him a ride from outside Newport to Littleton, took the bus from there to South Station, and Amtrak down to Ft. Lauderdale; got on the cruise, and stayed in Italy for six months. He saw no reason to come back for a while so wandered around Europe perfecting hi
s French, Italian, Spanish, and Greek. He owned the house on Key Biscayne but had not seen it yet.

  After 5 years or so floating around Europe, Pietro got him back anonymously again and he saw the lovely property on Key Biscayne, staying there a few years before Amtraking back anonymously again North to South Station.

  Chuck’s life played out like that. Simply grew nicely, threw off a lot of cash with which Chuck really had no use for so it just piled up, remained personally quiet and under radar. Chuck enjoyed it. He called it BigCo now, which it was now for sure.

  One night the latest of Pietro’s mistresses had asked Chuck what he did for women. He told her honestly; “I seek women who are between things; when they find what they want I give them a bon voyage present of some value. They like that.”

  “Yes,” she said, “they would, especially when they get to choose.”

  “Well,” Chuck said, “One way or another women always do. If they are happy, you are happy; if not, you will be unhappy with them. So why not just move on down the road?”

  The 3 of them drank to that. And Chuck continued to live his life like that.

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Is it the end of a story or the beginning of another

  George eventually retired. He never let the case go. But he never got further with it either. The case was a burr under his saddle; but that was life, he figured.

  Joyce went on to big things. She became Police Commissioner and then Senator. She never made President.

  More’s the pity thought many who knew her. She would have outclassed them all. But you had to know her for that knowledge. She was a grand Senator in the Henry Clay and John Calhoun tradition. Good enough, but not quite enough to become president.

  The Thatchers and Albert remained themselves. The Sloan was the Sloan, prospering in Dublin and as a private company.

  Chuck kept a tight rein on the business so he could float through the world as the canoe guide he had been and still was in his own mind. He was like a stone, pretty happy where ever he was dropped.

  John Putnam Thatcher had the last word on Jack at a dinner with Elizabeth and Albert. “I went to visit his gravestone. I had a hunch that something would be written on it, I am not sure why I thought that. There was and in Spoon River style it said:

  I lie here troubled because no one came to my funeral

  They nodded as John concluded, “And we know who the executor was.”

  The End

 

 

 


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