The Butterfly Effect

by D. F. Roberts

  Jill arrived dressed for the day, and Ruth handed her one of the cups she had just filled with coffee.

  Jill sipped and turned to me. She looked nervous.

  "French called. When do you want me to call him back?"

  "After you've finished your coffee. I want to call Robert first.” I stood and walked into the great room. Standing half-on and half-off a bar stool, I dialed Robert and sipped my coffee while I listened to the rings.

  "Good morning, Boss,” Robert said. His cell phone had caller ID. “French is trying to get hold of Jill."

  "I know. I wanted to talk with you before I have Jill call him back. Do you have any new info from the tapes or otherwise that would influence our plan for the call?"

  "Possibly. French called Able to talk about the change in plans caused by Jill's demands. We don't have Able wired yet. When I discovered the john is Able's man, not French's, I accelerated that effort. We should have him wired by noon tomorrow. I also decided to put surveillance on Able 24/7, like French. We'll cover him part-time today and fulltime by Saturday, hopefully before the intervention is scheduled. Jill needs to tie down the time and get a name if she can this morning when she talks to French."

  "I had hoped..."

  "Yeah, me, too. The john could arrive with bodyguards, Boss. That would be a mess. We can handle the john and one bodyguard, but if it's someone important with a lot of backup, we're fucked."

  "Do you have any suggestions?"

  "Not really. The odds are still good."

  "Okay, we'll leave the intervention plan intact. Do you have the drugs needed to keep the john and possibly a bodyguard unconscious long enough that we can isolate them for a few weeks?"

  "Yes. But we're not covered if the john has a medical problem and reacts badly to the drugs."

  "Then bind and gag the son-of-a-bitch. We'll scare the shit out of him, force him to call Able to apologize for not showing up, and finally dump him in a whorehouse in Mexico somewhere without money or ID—whatever. This part of the intervention has always been weak. We really can't plan this part without a name. We need to know the man and his systems to determine what to do with the son-of-a-bitch. I'll think about it and get back to you. I need to talk with you about a few other subjects anyway. I'll call back when we're finished with French."

  We said our goodbyes and I walked back to the kitchen.

  Jill looked up. She didn't look confident.

  "Are you ready to show that sick fuck of an ex-husband just how tough you really are, pretty lady?” I asked and grinned.

  I watched as strength entered her eyes. Now she looks confident, I thought.

  "Let's do it,” she said. “Any new instructions?"

  "Same as before, except you need a time and a name. You need a time so you'll be there, and you need a name because you will not let anyone but that person into your suite. And tell French the john must show up alone or you won't open the door, and he must be on time. You won't wait longer than a half-hour for him, or the deal is off. Ready?"

  "Yes."

  "We'll use the cell phone at the bar. It's hooked up to a recorder.” I looked around the room. “Hold it down, folks. This call is important."

  Everyone nodded.

  In the great room, Jill dialed.

  "Evan, I understand you've been trying to reach me ... No, you sick fuck. I told you I would cooperate with you but only on my terms. I didn't see your pictures of me in the Times this morning ... Yes, I will meet him in my suite at the Plaza on Saturday. What time ... No, I will not wait around for you to call me. I won't even answer the phone if it rings. I'll be your whore for an hour, not for the day. Give me a time, or go fuck yourself ... 6:00 PM. Okay. What's his name ... Evan, I will not let just anyone in the door to my suite. I need a name or I walk ... Joseph Perini ... Spell his last name ... Thank you. He'd better show up alone, Evan. I don't want someone taking pictures like last time ... What do you mean a bodyguard ... I'm not doing him with a bodyguard hanging around. If he wants my nubile body, he shows up alone, or I won't open my door ... That's the deal, Evan. I'll give Perini and only Perini an hour of sexual bliss if he shows up alone at six in the afternoon. And tell him not to be late. I won't wait beyond 6:30 for him ... This is a one-time deal, Evan. If you try a stunt like this again, I will not cooperate. This is going too far. I've paid you to protect my reputation. I will not be your whore. My reputation isn't worth this kind of degradation. Goodbye, you sick fuck."

  I watched as she hit the end button and smiled at her with admiration.

  "Excellent, Jill. You handled the situation perfectly. Come here. You deserve a hug."

  I held out my arms and she walked into them. Tears welled in her eyes as I wrapped my arms tightly around her.

  "Thank you, Martin. I could not have done it without your support and help. The man is truly vile. I can't believe I ever let the sick fuck touch me. Just talking with him makes my skin crawl."

  She held onto me, needing my arms around her for a minute. She gave me a quick kiss and stepped back.

  "You need to call Robert, and I need another shower. I feel dirty."

  "You did a very good job,” I said and started to dial Robert as she left the room.

  "How'd she do, Boss?” he said as a greeting.

  "Great. The man's name is Joseph Perini. The meet is at 6:00 PM. He has a bodyguard, but Jill told French she wouldn't open the door unless he was alone."

  "That won't do us any good. The bodyguard will be with him in the corridor, but out of the line-of-site of Jill's peephole, but our intervention plan anticipated one bodyguard. If that's all he has with him, we'll be okay. Joseph Perini. The name is familiar, but I can't put it in context."

  That's why I had Robert around—to help keep me from making blunders. He was correct, of course.

  "We need information about the man, as much as we can get our hands on between now and 6:00 PM tomorrow,” I said.

  "Okay. I'll try, but..."

  "I know. Do the best you can. Have you emailed the lists we talked about?"

  "Yes. Marilyn can download them on her laptop."

  "I need to get the calls going here, and you need to get after the info on Perini. I'll call you back in an hour."

  "Perini. I know the name. It will come to me. Talk to you in an hour, Boss. Bye."

  I looked for Marilyn and found her in Ruth's office. She was studying something on her laptop monitor.

  "I have the lists,” she said when she saw me.

  "Good. Print three copies of the vendor list and two of the abused kids list. About how many vendors are on the list?"

  The printer started to hum.

  "About two hundred, maybe more."

  "And the kids list?"

  "Twenty-five to thirty."

  "Have Roy and Vera arrived?"

  "Ruth is picking them up at the airport now. They should be here within the hour."

  "Can you do a name search on your computer?"

  "Yes. Sometimes it even works,” she said with a smile. “Give me the name and I'll plug it in."

  "Joseph Perini."

  She toggled some keys and waited a few seconds. “Well, look at that—about a dozen hits. Let's see what they say. Oh, oh, Martin. This is a bad dude. The mob, if I were to guess."

  I walked behind her so I could see the display. After glancing at the screen, I asked her to let me see the other links. Five minutes later, I agreed with Marilyn. We were dealing with the mob.

  "Email those links to Robert. We've got problems."

  "Is this the guy Jill is supposed to meet tomorrow?"

  "Yes."

  "We've got problems."

  I dialed.

  "I remembered, Boss,” he said.

  "The mob,” I said.

  "Yeah, how did you find out so quick?"

  "Marilyn looked up his name on the computer. The man gets more than his share of the press."

  "I know. Perini runs the rackets in Manhattan. He's big-time bad, Martin. A
big, ugly, mean son-of-a-bitch. He might have one bodyguard with him, but the odds are there will be a few more in the lobby, and they won't let him walk into any room without checking it out."

  "From your surveillance and bugs, have you determined if French plans to wire Jill's suite?"

  "Yes. And the answer is yes."

  "French could give Perini's bodyguards access to the bugs’ receivers so they would know Jill is alone and the meeting safe."

  "That's possible, even probable, but not good enough for our tolerances. We're in deep shit, Boss. We can't make Perini and one of his bodyguards disappear for a month and get away with it."

  "I know. It's time for Plan B."

  "I didn't know we had a Plan B."

  "We always have a Plan B, Robert. This is merely the first time we've had to use a Plan B on any of the operations you and I have worked on."

  "What's Plan B?"

  "If we can't stop Perini from attending the meet, who can we stop?"

  Silence. “Jill, but if she refuses to meet with Perini, we run the risk that French will release the photos, and we lose."

  "Not if it's not her decision, not if circumstances beyond her control stop her from cooperating. I'll set Plan B in motion now. I won't need your help with Plan B, Robert. Get your people digging to find out more about Able's connection to Perini. And I need the dossier on Able PDQ. Oh, and start one on Perini. We'll take all three of the fuckers down."

  "I like the way you think, Boss. I'll get right on it."

  "Robert, I've decided how I want to take Able and French down. I'm going to need a few thousand tablets or capsules of Ecstasy, that new synthetic drug. We'll need enough of the drug to make Able and French look like serious dealers. Any suggestions?"

  "Then you'll need more than a few thousand tablets, Boss, and that will cost you a pretty penny. Will you be able to get them back?"

  "No, they'll be used to put Able and French behind bars at the appropriate time. The tablets will end up in police evidence rooms somewhere."

  "I believe they retail for between $20 to $50 each. With a volume purchase, we can probably get them for much less. I'll ask around. Why Ecstasy? French's drug of choice is cocaine."

  "A different drug will actually make more sense. He uses cocaine but deals in Ecstasy. Also, I need to know more about Ecstasy, its effects, dangers, where and how it is manufactured, distribution methods, and so forth."

  "I have a source at the D.E.A. I'll talk to him this morning. They probably have a white paper on the drug."

  "Great. I'll talk to you later, Robert. I need to initiate Plan B."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Fourteen

  I made a few calls, and Plan B started to roll. Now I needed to talk with the main character in the plan. I found Jill in her room curled up in the fetal position on her bed, covered by a sheet. She turned her head toward me when I opened the door.

  She quickly turned back away from me so I couldn't see her.

  "Go away,” she said.

  She had been crying. Her eyes were puffy and red. It was the first time I ever saw Jill when she didn't look stunningly beautiful. My heart went out to her. She was tough, but she had been through a lot.

  I sat on the bed beside her and put my hand on her shoulder. She spun toward me and threw her arms around me. The sheet fell away to her waist and her breasts flattened against my chest.

  "I'm soiled, Martin,” she said between sniffs. “I was a slut, and I married an evil man. No decent man can love me, not if he knows everything I've done and the bad choices I've made."

  "I understand. You aren't worth much. You should give up, let your ex publish his dirty pictures all over the Internet so obscene men and horny boys the world over can jack off on the toilet and come on the image of your face until the picture curls up from dried semen."

  Her body stiffened and she pushed herself away from me. She stared at me with angry eyes.

  "You should give up and let your ex keep using little girls and boys to satisfy his vile perversions and make a profit. Why should you care if he destroys a few hundred more young lives? You should crawl in bed and take the fetal position for the rest of your life and feel sorry for yourself. You aren't worth the efforts of the decent folks trying their damndest to help you."

  Her anger flashed red and she reared back to slap me. I caught her wrist with my hand, pulled her to me and kissed her. She resisted, but only for a few seconds, and then she melted, squirmed in my embrace and kissed me back. She moved from self-pity to anger to passion in less than a minute—an emotional junky. She had every right to feel sorry for herself, but I needed her tough and self-confident.

  "You're a cruel man, Martin Crowe,” she whispered when our kiss ended. She leaned back and looked me the eye. “But you're right. I can't let self-pity take over. And I want French stopped, and not just for me anymore. The children are his real victims. My problems are secondary now. If my reputation is destroyed, so be it. If my face and body become jack-off fodder for millions, promise me you'll continue your efforts, Martin. Promise me!"

  "I promise. It's an easy promise to keep, because that's what I'd do anyway, but don't negate yourself, Jill. You are as much a victim as the children. You deserve my efforts, the efforts of my friends, as much as the children. You made some bad choices, but that doesn't make you unlovable. Now, do you want to put yourself together and get on with it, or would you prefer a quick fuck, and then put yourself together and get on with it?"

  She looked at me as if asking a question, and reached down and found my hard-on. The question went out of her eyes, and lust entered. She groaned and kissed me while she caressed my cock through my trousers.

  "If we have time, a quick fuck would be appreciated, Martin."

  While I undressed, she splayed her legs, moved her hands to her pussy and masturbated while she watched me. Her position was obscene, open and inviting, the sexiest posture a woman can take. I crawled on the bed with my eyes on her cunt until it was an inch from my face. She still held her cunt lips open, so I kissed her clitoris, and then licked her from her perineum up through her crease until I encircled her nubbin with my tongue a few times. She was wet. I straightened up to my knees with my cock in my fist and looked down on her.

  "Fuck me, Martin,” she said simply.

  I leaned forward, inserted my cock at the entrance to her cunt and pushed. She was ready, and I slipped fully into her with the first thrust.

  I groaned. Sublime sensations took me close to a peak. I was surprised how much I wanted her at that moment. I plunged in and out of her, concentrated only on myself. She did the same. We climaxed together in less than five minutes.

  I rolled us to our sides, my cock still inside her, and kissed her for the first time since our fuck had started.

  Someone knocked at the door. I turned to the sound and the door opened. Ruth stood looking at us.

  "Sorry,” she said, blushing. “I'll come back later."

  "It's all right,” Jill said. “We're finished. What do you need?"

  My sister's eyes studied us for a few seconds, fixing the sight in her mind. Our image would be described in one of her novels someday, I presumed.

  "Roy and Vera are here,” Ruth said with a husky voice. “We're ready to open the call center."

  "Marilyn will get you started. We'll be down in a few minutes,” I told her. At that moment, my come-covered, flaccid cock slipped out of Jill's cunt and flopped onto my thigh.

  My sister's gaze took in the sight. She licked her lips and her dark eyes became darker—black, void of light.

  "Okay,” she said and closed the door.

  Jill chuckled. “I want to watch when the two of you finally fuck each other."

  "Don't hold your breath. That will never happen."

  "Maybe, maybe not. Relax,” she said and rolled from the bed. “I'll get a washcloth and clean you up, and we'll get back to work."

  "Okay. By the way, I came to your room to tel
l you about Plan B,” I said as she pranced regally toward the bathroom. She's still on a runway, I thought, always will be. I loved to watch her move—poetry in motion. I listened while she cleaned herself, and a few minutes later, she returned with a warm washcloth.

  "What's Plan B?” she asked, and while she wiped away the mess of our quick fuck, I explained the change in plans.

  When I finished, she said with a smile, “I prefer Plan B. Will the cast shrivel up my leg and make it look ugly?"

  Vanity, I thought, thy name is woman.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Fifteen

  When I entered the great room five minutes later, Roy was at the bar with a cell phone in his ear. The phone was hooked to a recorder, and he scribbled notes on a pad. He smiled and waved when he saw me. In the office, Ruth sat at her desk speaking into her cell phone. She, too, smiled and waved. Christie was at the kitchen table with her phone and recorder, concentrating so intently on her task she didn't notice me. Marilyn and Vera sat at the dining room table with their laptop computers. Vera rose and greeted me with a hug.

  "Roy's having the time of his life, Martin,” she said. “Thanks for letting him help."

  "No problem. He's doing me a favor, not the other way around."

  "What's Plan B, Martin?” Marilyn asked. “I need to add it to the database."

  "Unfortunately, Jill is going to have a serious accident. At six o'clock this evening, she will be in a hospital here in the city with a cast on her leg, broken from a fall down some stairs. Doc Hanley, a friend, has it all set up with an ambulance, the emergency room, fake x-rays, the whole bit. Hanley is not really a doctor, but a con man, an expert in the long con. A real physician on staff at the hospital is part of the con. The F.B.I. could investigate the accident and would not find a flaw. Jill, through no fault of her own, will not be able to attend the meet with Perini, not only tomorrow but for six weeks until the cast comes off."

  Marilyn giggled. “Perfect,” she said. “I like Plan B better than Plan A."

  "That's what Jill said. I originally considered it as our first line of defense for this set of conditions and systems of the operation, but decided to use the intervention in Plan A because my calculations indicated a smaller risk to our client. I believed French less likely to distribute the pictures if his plan failed because of Plan A rather than Plan B. Also, Plan B essentially puts our client out of contact with us for a few days. We can't visit or even call while she's in the hospital to protect the anonymity of our base of operations. She's on her own except for the personnel Doc Hanley will have in place. And after she is released, she will essentially need to disappear before she returns to headquarters. I deemed it important to have constant contact with our client, so I elected to use Plan A. Regardless, when Plan A became impossible, Plan B became an excellent alternative."