The Butterfly Effect

by D. F. Roberts

  Jill's gorgeous green eyes literally shined. “If you give the job to someone else, I'll scratch your eyes out."

  "Jill,” Robert said. “I'm not rich, but remember I'm chipping in on the Disney trip. I want to help those kids more than I want to put your ex behind bars."

  "I've already organized a foundation to help traumatized kids, Robert. It accepts any and all donations.” She smiled proudly.

  "I can't think of a better cause. I'll make a one-time donation, Jill,” I said and pulled out my checkbook. “What is the name of the foundation?” She told me. I scribbled the name and handed her the check. “I stress, this is a one-time donation, so tell whomever you've hired to run the foundation not to bug me. I hate being badgered to donate money to worthy causes."

  She glanced at the amount and suddenly looked stunned. “Martin, I can't..."

  "You just told Robert you accept any and all donations. I expect you to save a few young lives with that donation. I don't want it eaten up in administrative expenses like most of the charities involved in United Way."

  She grinned. “I promise, Martin."

  I turned to Robert. “Tell me about your trip into French's studio."

  He pulled a file from his stuffed-beyond-full briefcase, studied it a few seconds and put it aside. “We successfully circumvented the alarm and entered the studio at 2:00 AM. Harry studied the safe. He thinks he can open it without drilling or using explosives, but will be prepared for whatever it takes the night we take French down. The camera we focused on a computer monitor gave us the password to his computer, so we were able to copy all the data files onto a zip drive. Harry easily opened his desk and the filing cabinets and relocked them when we were finished. We digitally scanned a few hundred pages of various documents. We don't yet have the data from the computer or the scanned documents transcribed, collated and summarized. It'll be Monday or Tuesday before we are finished, Martin. We put everything back as we found it, reset the alarm and were gone by 4:00 AM."

  "How much time will we need the night we take French down?"

  "Four hours at the outside, but we'll go in earlier, say midnight. Frankly, Martin, I don't see a problem unless we have trouble with the safe."

  "Do me a favor,” I said to Robert. “Put a high priority on the data from the computer and his files for information about bank accounts and safe deposit boxes."

  "You've got it, Boss,” Robert replied.

  "Have you found an actor that looks a little like French, one we can trust?"

  "Yes, and by midweek he will be able to sign French's name better than French."

  I chuckled and nodded. “I'll have the drugs Wednesday. We can take French down any time after that.” I dialed Ruth and put her on the speaker. “Ruth, it's Martin."

  "Welcome back to the good ol’ U. S. of A., Bro. How was your flight?"

  "Fine, but it's good to be on the ground again. For a man who hates to fly, I've had more than my share of air miles lately. I'm sitting here with Marilyn, Robert and Jill. Can you give us the status on French's systems?"

  "Sure. His systems are a mess. The wings we fluttered are creating increasingly more dramatic results. Frankly, I've had to alter some conditions to slow the process down. French's legitimate business is in complete disarray. Modeling agencies he has used for years now refuse to provide him models. Many of the magazine editors won't even talk to him. Both the agencies and the editors feel like he has lied to them, not once but many times. Seven lawsuits have been filed, and French's bluster hasn't helped his situation. He's so frustrated with the current situation, he constantly screams at and curses the people around him. He has fired a few employees. Others have quit. And the personal services the man has relied on for years have fallen completely apart. Drycleaners, restaurants, mechanics, office supply vendors, photographic equipment and supply houses, almost all of the vendors he used in the past now refuse to serve him."

  "Does he suspect someone is behind the serious alterations to his lifestyle?” I asked.

  "Perhaps, but he doesn't have any real evidence. For the most part, one call to a person involved in one of his systems did the trick, and the disinformation we created took on a life of its own, as you predicted. If an initial condition required adjustment, we varied the source and the approach. For example, I called an editor the first day we placed calls and made some promises French couldn't keep, but French was able to make peace with her. I sicced Roy on the editor. Roy played the part of a drug enforcement agent. The editor now suspects French is not only a heavy drug user but also a drug dealer. Ecstasy was mentioned."

  "What about his illegal business?” I asked.

  "Again, as you and Marilyn predicted,” Ruth said, “with his legitimate business in the toilet, he made attempts to accelerate kiddy porn production and sales. However, with most every aspect of his life falling apart, he's too distracted to make any real progress. With the exception of his recruitment practices, we've been careful not to seriously disrupt that part of French's life. Instead of disinformation, we used direct intervention with his recruitment systems. French has only been able to recruit one kid since we started, the little boy you are helping, Jill. Most of our activities regarding his illegitimate business have been directed towards intelligence gathering. We know much more now than when we started. The telephone taps and bugging devices have produced most of the information you felt we would need."

  "Tell me about your progress with Able's systems."

  "We began fluttering wings to disrupt Able's systems a few days after we started the same effort with French, but frankly, we have disrupted his systems even more than French's. Because Able's legitimate business is nothing but a front for his illegal activity, we concentrated on disrupting his distribution system for pornography. At this point, most of his illegal contacts will not do business with him. As you suggested, we put out the word that Able was getting heavy into dealing drugs and was thinking about getting out of the porno business. When he's arrested with drugs in his possession, no one will be surprised."

  "What about his personal services vendors?” I asked.

  "Those systems are falling apart, but are not as drastic as those of French."

  "And Perini?"

  "We fluttered our wings once and never followed through. We don't have feedback on our results."

  "You made tiny changes to the man's initial conditions, Ruth. Trust me. They will have grown in intensity as if they had a life of their own. Actually, according to chaos theory, they do have a life of their own. Ruth, you've done a marvelous job. It's Saturday. Can you move your butterfly team to New York tomorrow? We need you here and operational by Monday."

  "Certainly. Will it be safe for Christie? She'd love to come with us."

  "Bring her. In fact, her job isn't finished yet. And you will need more callers for one day only, the day after Able and French are arrested. Marilyn will work with you to recruit them."

  "I have four experienced callers on hold, Ruth. We'll talk about them when you arrive tomorrow,” Marilyn said.

  "Thanks, Ruth,” I said. “I'll let you go. With this sudden move to New York, I know you have lots to do. Give Christie a kiss for me."

  My sister said goodnight and I hung up the phone.

  "This operation is coming down to the endgame quicker than I anticipated. Robert, huddle with Jill later and determine when we can extract the street kids. Tomorrow would suit me fine, but I know that might not be possible. Jill, when do you estimate you will be ready to take them from the streets and transport them to California?"

  "Monday late at the earliest, but most likely Tuesday. I'll do my best."

  "Good, because your ex and Able will be arrested this week."

  Jill's mouth dropped. “That's marvelous, Martin. You're a wizard!"

  "What about Able's wife?” Robert asked. “She's worse than her husband ... much worse. I believe if we had not removed the boy from her grasp, she would have killed him. She's a sick fuck of the worst kind, M
artin."

  Jill said, “I agree. Karen Able must be taken down along with her husband and French. Can you use drugs to frame her?"

  "Yes, but I would rather take her down using her perversion, not drugs. I feel the same about the woman. I promise, she won't be left unscathed."

  I yawned. “Folks, I love you, one and all, but I'm wiped. Jetlag. Let's meet again in the morning."

  Robert pulled a thick file from his briefcase. “This should put you to sleep, Boss. It's the information you asked for about the members of Able and French's pedo ring."

  I yawned again. “Thanks, Robert. I'll review it in the morning.” I stood up, told everyone goodnight and staggered off to bed.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  "Wake up, sleepyhead,” Marilyn said.

  My eyes fluttered open. “What..."

  "It's time to get up. The sun is shining. It's a beautiful day."

  I smiled. “You're beautiful. I like the outfit.” She wore a pair of shorts and a running bra. Dianna used to wear similar outfits when she ran with me each morning.

  "Thanks, lover. It's time for your morning jog. You haven't been running. You're going to get flabby.” She giggled. “If you get a pot belly, I might stop loving you."

  "Can't let that happen,” I said as I rolled my feet to the floor.

  I was taking a leak when Marilyn stepped into the bathroom carrying a cup of coffee. She watched me. I finished, shook off the last few drops and turned to her.

  "Efficient,” she said. “Men have a better design for peeing than women.” She handed me the coffee.

  I sipped. “Ah, but women have superior orgasms."

  She chuckled. “True. Yin and yang.” She gazed at my flaccid cock, licked her lips and shook her head. “Later,” she said out loud, more to herself than to me. Her gaze rose to my eyes. “Get dressed. I've wanted to exercise in Central Park for years."

  "I run three miles,” I said, dubious she could last the course.

  "I can double that on a good day,” she replied. “But since it's our first time together, I'll baby you along."

  "Hah! We'll see who baby's who."

  A cab dropped us off at the park at 77th Street on the West Side. Marilyn carried a bag with her, which seemed strange to me. We jogged into the park until we reached the running paths, at which time Marilyn promptly plunked herself down on a park bench.

  "Tired already?” I teased.

  She smiled and opened her bag. “Nope. You run; I'll skate.” She pulled out a pair of roller blades.

  "No fair,” I said.

  "Yin and yang. You keep trim your way; I'll do the same my way."

  I spent the rest of my morning run watching my lover wiggled her cute little butt as she zigzagged through the cones set up for skaters. The skaters outnumbered runners ten to one. She wasn't as accomplished as some, but she held her own. I huffed along, made my three miles, and collapsed on a bench where I watched Marilyn do her version of roller boogie with a good-looking teenager. A sign informed me we were in a part of the park called Dance Circle. My lover more than doubled my three miles that morning. She would move way ahead of me and return, skate around me as I ran, pat me on my butt and encourage me to hang in there. I never had so much fun on my morning run before.

  We returned to where Marilyn had hidden her bag with her running shoes in the bushes; surprisingly the bag was still there.

  Back at the suite, we made love before we showered. I licked at her sweat, tasted her pungent flavors.

  "Yes, eat me,” she said when I licked up through her crease. “Eat me until I come.” She climaxed quickly on my lips and tongue.

  "Your turn,” she said when she recovered. “I want to taste you when you're sweaty, too. We'll fuck later, maybe after lunch. Right now I just want to suck you off, okay?"

  Without waiting for an answer, she took me into her mouth and soon coaxed an orgasm from me. We showered and dressed, kissed each other and moved to Robert's suite, the control center for the operation, ready to fight the worthy battle against the bad guys.

  Jill and Robert were huddled when we entered. Marilyn picked up a house phone and verified the reservation she had made the previous night to take the rest of the floor for our team.

  Robert commented, “Martin, I can't figure out how to snatch the street kids. They are scattered; some sleep on the street, others crash in rooms, but rarely the same room. Some I can take because they work the same corner each day to peddle their drugs or sell their bodies. And once I start picking them up, I suspect they'll scatter even more."

  "Jill, will you be ready to transport them to California tomorrow night?"

  "I think so. Transportation isn't the problem. I can charter a plane, but I'm having a difficult time gathering the professionals I'll need to travel with the kids on such short notice."

  "Have you spoken with Sherry?"

  "Yes, and she's been very helpful, but..."

  "Do you have any professionals lined up at all?"

  "Yes, two, but I'd feel more comfortable with a better ratio of kids assigned to each professional."

  "I have a friend, a police officer in Phoenix. He belongs to a group who takes incorrigible kids through a camp—sort of a tough-love approach. You need professionals, but a few men like my friend might be needed to keep the kids in line."

  "Will he help?"

  "Let's find out. Marilyn, please look up Grant Thompson in my friends’ file for me. I need his phone number."

  She was working on her computer when I asked for her help, so she merely toggled a few keys and gave me the number. I dialed and talked to the man. After explaining the circumstances, he committed four men, including himself, to herd the kids around once they reached California. I turned the phone over to Jill, and the two of them discussed details.

  While they talked, I poured another cup of coffee. I sipped and watched Marilyn. She noticed me watching her, smiled a loving smile and returned to her labors. I was head over heels in love with her, I realized at that moment, but the best part about the self-confession was the lack of guilt about being unfaithful to my dead wife. You're making real progress, buddy boy, I told myself. You just might rejoin the human race after all. I would always love Dianna, but knowing her as I did, she would want me to find a new love.

  Jill finished her conversation and said, “Grant will be a big help, Martin. With his involvement, we can transport the kids tomorrow night."

  "That doesn't solve my problem,” Robert said. “They're still scattered from hell to breakfast."

  I laughed and he looked at me quizzically. “Your expression cracked me up, Robert."

  "Oh,” he said simply and smiled with me.

  "What we need is a party, or something, that will gather them all in one place. Let's ask our resident expert for her advice.” I dialed Ruth's number.

  "Good morning, Martin. We're busy packing things. We should be in New York City by five tonight."

  "Great, Ruth, that's better than I anticipated. Is Christie around? We need her advice."

  Ruth put her daughter on the line.

  "Hi, Uncle M,” Christie said.

  "Hello, Sweetheart. Did you finish talking to all the kids again?"

  "Uh, huh. Three more slid over into the ‘against’ column from the ‘neutral’ column when I brought up Frank and Karen Able. Only two of the total of thirty-two are for both the Ables and French. Fourteen are neutral, and sixteen are against. The Ables are bad people, Uncle M."

  "They sure are. Christie, we have a problem maybe you can help us solve. We need to get the kids who are against the bad guys all in one place tomorrow night so we can gather them up at one time. We will be taking them on a trip to Disneyland in California, as well as Universal Studios, Knott's Berry Farm, the sandy beaches, you know, all the fun places. And when the fun is over we'll offer them counseling and help them find a place to live."

  "Cool, Uncle M. They'll have fun at Disneyland and the
other places, but I don't think very many of them will let you help them afterwards. None of them trust adults at all, and most of them are used to taking care of themselves."

  "I understand, Sweetheart, but still we must try. Do you have any ideas about how we can get them together?"

  "Well, there's this one girl, Marcy is her name. She's sort of a leader. Maybe I can talk with her and get her to bring them together. They wouldn't listen to me."

  "What reason would you give her to bring them together?"

  "I'd tell her what you just told me. She's pretty smart. Of all the kids I've talked to, she's probably the only one who would understand what you're trying to do. If I tried to fool her, she'd know in a flash."

  "Can you get her to talk to me or Jill?"

  "Jill, maybe. Not you. She doesn't like men, period."

  "How old is she?"

  "Twelve. French helped her two years ago when she ran away from home. She liked French at first. He paid her for modeling and didn't hurt her when he had sex with her. Then he turned her over to the Ables. Now she hates French, as well. Of all the kids, I think she might take you up on your offer for help, but you would have to be straight with her, no lies. She would need to know the real reason you want to help the kids. Like I said, she's smart."

  "You're coming to New York this afternoon. Do you think you can talk her into meeting with you and Jill tonight?"

  "She would meet with me. I don't know about Jill."

  "Sweetheart, I won't let you meet with her alone. If she won't meet with both of you, I'll call the trip off, and we'll take our chances the kids will maintain their silence until after French and Able are arrested."