Civility
Chapter 16

Copyright© 2009 by Jay Cantrell

The next rock to fall also came via telephone, this one a little more unexpected.

"Michael McPherson?" a voice asked three weeks after I spoke to Janet.

I replied I was.

"My name is Jacques Thierry," he said. "We've never met but I know much about you."

The way he said it made me chuckle inwardly.

"I am not an easy man to know," I replied.

Marcus burst out in laughter before he returned to his Thierry persona.

"I have heard that is true," he said. "But not impossible. I believe you and I have a mutual acquaintance or two. Max Barnes sends his regards. I have garnered much information about you and your life. Did I happen to catch you at your office or at your home?"

"What about in between?" I asked.

"Impossible," Marcus said jovially. "You would never answer the phone if you were driving and I know you don't allow anyone to drive but you."

He had a point.

"I am at home," I said.

"Excellent," he replied. "How are you father's investment profiles?"

I sat silently for a moment before I understood.

"Unchanged," I said. "I'm not certain he has checked them in years. I know I haven't."

"Perhaps you should," he said. "It would be nice to know if he was planning to return."

I slid out the drawer of my grandfather's desk and turned it over. It was where Marcus and I had found my father's stash of blackmail photos years before. There was another manila envelope beneath the false bottom.

I poured its contents on the desk.

"One of our mutual friends is extremely worried," Marcus said. "Worried enough that he plans to return in the next week if you don't specifically instruct him that you accept his gift."

The contents was an entirely new identity for me, Linda and Amelia: new birth certificates; new driver's licenses for Linda and me; new passports and new information to learn a new identity. There was even bank cards and credit cards in the names we could use.

"This is a generous gift, I'm certain," I said, choked with emotion. "I hope I'll be able to use it."

"You will, my friend," Marcus said. He was no longer using his French accent. "I will see to that. I have been working behind the scenes since I got here. There are things going on that I'm not aware of. I'm certain of that. But this is something that I had to do for you. I've had this set up for years. Those credit cards have been used as have the passports. They're real. They are not replicas. You understand the legend. There is a package for you at work. French diplomatic pouch, if you must know. Open it and follow instructions. Will you do that? Otherwise, I'll see you soon and you know I will."

"You can't," I said. "It's bigger than that."

"I know how big it is," he said. "We have more than a few mutual friends. I am aware of almost everything you are, particularly in that sense. Have you watched the news today?"

"No," I said. "My houseguests have claimed the television. Something of interest?"

"To me, I found it very interesting," he said. "I believe you will, too. Michael, just keep an open mind."

I smiled at the words. They were exactly the same one I used when I was trying to convince Marcus to join my enterprise.

"I will but I make no promises," I replied. "There are some things I'm not comfortable with — not many, I'm sure. But there are a few."

Marcus laughed at the memory right along with me.


The package was where Marcus promised it would be. I wondered how my friend and confidante had come to have so much influence in a new country so quickly. I guess I shouldn't have.

Inside was what appeared to be a cell phone but I suspected it was more. There was another set of identities, this one for Janet and Lila. Marcus' note said they took a little longer to put together but they were legit.

It was a little more difficult to set up a new identity for an American citizen. The U.S. government had few law enforcement agencies that were excluded from the national fingerprint database. It was even compiling a DNA marker database. Something so innocuous as a stray hair in a room could be traced back to a person if the government was inclined to look for it.

It was the main reason that Marcus always insisted that we take chartered planes from out of the way places to our foreign destinations. It was why my attorney had insisted that all record of my brief foray into federal custody be expunged. To the best of my knowledge, I had never been fingerprinted nor given a DNA sample.

The Conroys each had fingerprints on someone's computer system. Lila had been fingerprinted as a child — ostensibly to guard against abduction but the government stored those fingerprints in the same database as those of criminals, police officers and foreign nationals. At least that was Marcus' contention. I truly didn't know but I suspected firmly that he would.

Janet was fingerprinted because she had access to narcotics and it was hospital policy to run a full criminal background check on its employees.

A few minutes in front of my computer brought up the news Marcus wanted me to know: Sen. Buderman had expired of a burst aneurysm at her D.C. townhouse. I wondered if Meadows knew. Then I wondered if he had anything to do with it.

One call confirmed the first but disabused me of the second. In fact, he wondered the same thing about me.

We had a chuckle about that.

"So does that mean Marcus will be returning?" he asked.

"I don't think so," I said. "From what a mutual friend tells me, Marcus is doing well for himself and he is extremely happy."

I paused for a moment.

"In fact, I'm thinking about joining him in retirement," I said.

Meadows was silent.

"Is that possible?" he asked. "If it is, I think I would help you if I could."

That was another surprise in a month of them.

"It is possible," I said. "It is not, however, feasible."

He understood me immediately.

"I have information that you might find useful," he said.

"OK," I told him.

"Can you visit me here?" he asked. "In my office. Some of this stuff is sensitive."

"Tomorrow?" I asked. "I have some information here that I need to parse through that is urgent."

"Anytime, Michael," he said. "But we need to talk before you decide for sure."

"I agree," I said. "And I wouldn't do otherwise. My friends in your line of work are why I haven't just said to hell with it."

Meadows groaned.

"I owe Kay another $20," he said. "She said you would be one of the main reasons you would fight. Damn it. We're supposed to be adversaries. Didn't you get that memo?"

"I got it," I said. "I just don't believe our goals are divergent in all areas. The memo said they had to be."

"Old-school," Meadows said with appreciation. "Call me when you have some time."

I promised I would.


"Damn," I said aloud.

The information in Marcus' package set me back. How in the hell he gathered that much data from halfway across the globe astounded me. But it didn't affect the validity of what he had sent.

I followed his instructions and used the phone he had sent to me.

"It's the middle of the night here, Michael," he chided with a laugh when he answered.

I was caught off guard for a moment.

"I don't know where you are so I had no way of knowing that," I said

"You know where I am," he joked.

"I had that scrubbed from my memory," I insisted. "I was unwilling to risk a friend for my foolishness. Is this safe?"

"Eminently," he said. "Unless a certain foreign government has you on their radar. You're reach is long, Michael. But not that long."

"It's good to hear from you," I said.

"You, too," he replied. "It's also good that I don't have to act like an uneducated enforcer, too."

"I know that was difficult for you," I said. "You know I never thought of you that way."

"Of course not," he replied. "I learned a lot from you, Michael. Enough that it hasn't taken me long to establish myself as one of the pre-eminent, if somewhat reclusive, investors in Europe. I believe you have found that money buys much, especially in some circles. Rubinoff will be dead within a week. I have that on solid ground. He was freelancing for himself. Some of his former associates are not pleased he chose to stretch his wings. He is not set up for the administrative side of the business."

"I'm surprised that he has lasted this long," I replied. "I knew the group for whom he worked would not be pleased in the least. The fact he was acting on his own could not have made him any friends."

"The word is that his usefulness has expired," Marcus confirmed. "He has become a liability. Ironically, they are not interested in pursuing your territory. Corliss is undergoing some major changes in the next weeks. They don't see the financial upside because so much of what you do is actually legitimate. They know that they don't have people in place to keep that. All they would get is the low-end market and they don't view it as worth the effort."

He laughed grimly.

"The actions that led me across here actually help you," he added. "They assumed it was a low-level take over try. The fact that you dealt with it so harshly gave them pause. It was a side of you that many were surprised to see."

"At least there is that," I said without humor.

"Did you read the rest of what I sent to you?" he asked.

"It came as a surprise to me," I replied. "Do you think that Hammond will be interested in that?"

"I know for a fact that he is," Marcus said. "His son is pretty much like you. He wants a way to prove himself. But, well, his father isn't planning to expire for another 40 years or so. That creates a problem. I sent you info on the territory he is running for the old man."

"Old man?" I asked. "The old man is only 10 or 12 years older than we are."

Marcus laughed.

"I think it would be a seamless transition," Marcus said. "In fact, the son views your organization as a model for what he wants to achieve."

I sighed heavily.

"I can't believe that I'm considering giving up everything my grandfather worked to build," I said.

"It's a different world, Michael," he replied. "Your mother was as influential in getting me to leave Baltimore as you were. She understood that you weren't cut out for what needed to be done. But she thought I was. I would say that she was correct, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe now that the heat is off you should take over," I said.

I heard Marcus snort.

"And leave all this?" he said. "Mac, I live on a yacht in the Mediterranean. If I told you the name of the woman who shared my bed Saturday night you would call me a liar. We are set financially — both of us. You could take 10 percent of your net worth and live comfortably forever. Young Hammond wants to buy in. I think if you would offer to take 50 cents on the dollar he would jump at the chance. I would guess he would be willing to go as high as 75 cents on the dollar without a blink."

"I would offer to sign it over everything but my personal accounts and a couple of business investments that I want to keep an eye on," I told him honestly. "Jesus, Mark. I just want out. I want to get away from this. I saw how easy it is to fall into this life. It happened before I even knew what happened. Young Hammond might find the same situation but at least he has a father he respects to keep him in line."

"You saw the abuses of power your father perpetuated," Marcus replied. "I know you found them offensive. You went to the other extreme, Boss. You insisted on being hands on for too much of the nasty shit. That is not your personality. You tried to force yourself to do it so it would be harder for you to order. Instead it became easier for you to do. I saw it but I couldn't stop it. I wanted to but I didn't know how."

There seemed little more to say on the subject. I knew he was right and so did he.

"So you are already in negotiations with Hammond to help Junior take over here?" I asked.

"Negotiations? No," Marcus said. "I have broached the subject with him personally and I have spoken to Young Hammond about it. Neither of them is willing to make a move on you. There is a respect there, Michael. Even the old man doesn't want to risk your anger even though he has pieces in place to actually take over completely."

 
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