“Hi William, Nick Johnson.” I walked up to William Miler in his garage and shook his
hand.
William's garage was a whole lot cleaner than mine, with a neatly painted grey floor,
wall-to-wall cabinets and shelves, and a tool collection certainly a class or two up from the one in my garage. The tract lighting was a nice touch. My garage featured a lone light bulb that seemed
to last half as long as in-home light bulbs.
I had sat in my home office for an hour, thinking about the chatroom folks' plan for me
before concluding that getting out of the house would be good. Susan and Tom weren't back, yet
I really didn't want to see them at that moment anyway, so I gave William a call. He said we
should talk.
On the way over, I decided not to tell William about Peter Hansen, because William
would probably head right over to Peter's and give him hell. And for the former detective's sake,
Peter needed to be kept in the dark about my conversations with William. Oleg might have re-
directed his might in William's direction if Peter found out and that would have been horrible.
“It's a pleasure, Nick. Father Michael told me that I should meet with you,” he replied.
We began to walk down Eagle Boulevard where the all brick, fifty or so year old Miler
home rested. William had his four-year old golden retriever, Jules, with him. The damn dog was a
disaster on a leash, trying to run after every squirrel in sight. Even though William stood 5'10 and was quite stocky, Jules' energy kept William's focus mainly on the dog.
“So, you have information that has caught the attention of some thugs and these thugs are
threatening your family?” William didn't look at me when saying this.
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It sounded like Father Mike was pretty general in describing my situation with William. I
didn't know why this was surprising to me given that Father Mike had assured me that he was
careful during our phone conversation Wednesday night
“They killed our dog three nights ago,” I told William.
“What?” William stopped walking. “Are you sure?”
“Well, about as sure as I can be without having real proof.”
“Huh…Father Mike also told me that you cannot go to the police.”
Jules tried to run after another squirrel, effectually spinning William around, but William
recovered and we started to walk again.
“How did you meet these jerks?”
“They met me, in my car…with a knife at my throat. It was a real treat,” I replied back.
Williams managed to look right at me.
“So, how do you see your options here?”
“Well, as I see it, I can either grab my entire family - in-laws and all - and disappear into
the night, or manage to fake my death and go into hiding for some time.”
The dog stopped to take a dump.
“Why can't you give them the information? They'd leave you alone then.”
I nodded my head and cleared my throat. Here came the kicker.
“Yeah, about that…I overheard them saying how they were going to kill me regardless. I
guess they don't want any witnesses.”
“Jeez, maybe you could hire someone to protect you and your family,” William asserted
with his arms crossed.
It was annoying that it took ten minutes to simply walk somebody through my problem.
They all found it hard to believe that giving these thugs the information wouldn't keep me alive.
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“They showed me a video of the last couple that tried that very thing – they ended up
dead. These guys seem pretty seasoned and weren't stopped by the guy they hired.”
“How do you know the video isn't a fake?”
“I looked up the murder on the Internet and found a story in a local Philly paper. The guy
in the video being killed is the same guy in the article photo.”
I was amazed how casually that just rolled off of my tongue, like this was a simple
conversation between two guys.
Jules was done with her business and demanded that we start walking again down Eagle
Boulevard. It was a busier street to walk on than I had thought. Eight cars had passed us already.
“If you suddenly relocated your extended family, you guys would lose most everything,
right?”
“Houses, friends, jobs, you name it…”
“But if you can fake your death in a way that convinces the police…”
“That's why I needed to talk with you,” I inserted.
William yanked on the leash, then we stopped walking.
I knew that I was taking William and his detective career lightly by assuming that he
would help me commit a crime. But what choice did I have? At this moment standing on Eagle
Boulevard, I didn't know if William was going to erupt at me in anger or graciously offer to help
out of some sense duty or sympathy or whatever would drive somebody to help me down this
twisted path.
“Just to be clear here, you wouldn't be doing anything illegal unless you defraud on your
life insurance or something like that,” William asserts.
I laughed slightly and William looked at me curiously.
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“But my family will kill me after I put them through the hell of a funeral and all of that
grief.”
I didn't know why I was bringing this up, because he couldn't possibly have cared about
that. I needed to focus.
Jules started barking at something and Williams snapped at his dog.
“Yes, well, I suppose there will be many sacrifices if you choose to do this, but it can be
done,” William remarked. “And it probably will throw these thugs off your back if the police
determine you to be dead.”
“And I wouldn't be committing a crime by fooling the police?”
“No…but you'll need to know how to fool the police.”
I looked down at the street and kicked up some dirt when suddenly a car pulled up to us.
The passenger side window rolled down.
“Hey William, can you have Betsy call Wendy. We're trying to arrange a holiday party
and they need to talk.”
William chuckled.
“George, I'd be happy to…gosh is it holiday season yet?”
“Yeah…hard to believe, huh?”
It occurred to me standing there next to these two chummy neighbors talking about
holiday party plans that I was intruding on William's life much like the Czechs were disrupting
mine. Granted, William was a willing participant and I was not threatening his life. Yet, if he was
going to help me, then William would need to take his eye way off the ball of holiday parties and
tree trimmings. I knew he knew that, and wanted to apologize to Father Mike and William for my
mess, but I couldn't.
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I realized William was retired and may have actually welcomed a drive down danger
lane. William looked to be in his early 60's. Plus, he mentioned that he retired two years ago. He
was sporting thinning, blond hair and looked like he could easily stand to be 10 pounds lighter.
That was something I told to most of my patients who were in that age range.
The neighbor across the street started up a chain saw to take care of a fallen tree limb
causing me to wonder what storm we had lately that would have taken out a limb that size. The
chain saw spurred William and George to end their conversation.
As George drove off, Jules started pulling hard on the leash, clearly bothered by the
amazingly loud chain saw.
“Whoa girl!” William shouted.
We started walking again down Eagle Boulevard.
“Does George live on this street?”
William pointed back toward his home.
“Three houses down from us,” he replied.
Susan always arranged a holiday party for mid December. Actually it was more like a
two hour cocktail event, so that people could pop in for a short time before heading off to another
party. I liked it and was always amazed by the volume of folks that we could round up, between
all of my doctor acquaintances and Susan's Morristown clan.
“Hey, what's with that guy's tree limb? I asked William. “We haven't had a storm lately
that would do that.”
William guffawed and Jules had to stop, looking up at William.
“That's a real bone of contention between Chuck and his neighbors. That limb has been
in Chuck's yard for nearly a month and a group of neighbors finally got the nerve to talk with
Chuck about removing it.”
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I put my hand on William's shoulder.
“Wow…let's hope Chuck doesn't go too nuts with that chain saw!” I exclaimed.
William stopped Jules and turned to me. He looked puzzled.
“Nick, can I ask you what the information is that they want and are willing to kill you
over?”
The wind was picking up, beginning an itch in my right ear so I started to scratch it. I
tried not to be surprised that it took William this long to ask this question. He was the first person to hear everything, so part of me did appreciate the difficulty in putting it all together mentally.
Especially for someone trying to help me with a solution.
“Sure, it concerns a pharmaceutical drug trial for which I am on the oversight committee
and will know the results of the trial ahead of the public.”
“And these guys wish to receive those results before the shareholders learn of them. It's
like the movie Trading Places – I love that movie.”
I tried to laugh but it came off as a gas driven grimace. William's eyes suddenly lit up.
“Wait a minute! Why don't you just quit the committee?” William asked.
“Oh, these guys warned me not to do that or I'd pay dearly.”
I hated to disappoint my new friend who was only trying to help me, but Oleg and his
friend were seasoned pros who were covering all of their bases.
William started rubbing the stubble on his chin.
“You know, I bet someone on this committee is behind this whole thing, William stated.
“When did you join this group?”
“Early September. Oleg found me two months later.”
I was kind of a midway substitute for the committee, and it definitely was strange that
they wanted a non specialist like me. Was there a conspiracy driven by someone on the Zyptorin
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trial committee? Oleg didn't specifically mention the idea of leaving committee, yet he did make
it clear that he would kill Susan and me if he didn't end up with the information. I was sure
suddenly leaving the trial would qualify under that killing statement.
“I don't know, Nick…There's always a good explanation for these kinds of crimes.”
Dave Clark did appear out of nowhere two months ago and he had all of these years to
ask me to join one of his glorious pharmaceutical drug trials, but he never did.
“Yeah, I admit, it is kind of suspicious, this committee thing,” I told William.
William eyes grew wider and he started to whisper.
“Are you sure you weren't followed?”
I hadn't even thought about that, though it sure made sense that Oleg would follow me
here. We both scanned the street and didn't see a car in sight in either direction, One thing was
clear: I had to start thinking more like a criminal. The last thing anybody wanted was for William
to be put at risk.
William put his right hand on my shoulder. “So, let me get this straight. The guys
threatening you are in the video they showed you?”
“One of them is, the leader, Oleg.”
“So, they must have left some DNA at the scene. You could tell the police that they are
connected to this Philadelphia murder and they could match the DNA.”
I thought for a minute. “Oleg was wearing black gloves in the video, so I don't know. I
don't know where these guys are to point the police in their direction, and, even if they find them, it would just be my luck that they can't match the DNA and can't hold them.”
William sighed. “Right, and then they would come after you in a nasty way.”
“You got that right, I just can't take that chance,” I told my new friend.
My cell phone started ringing.
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“Hello?” I asked into the phone. Only Susan ever called me on my cell, but it wasn't her.
“Nick, it's Peter Hansen, we need to talk and not at your home,” Peter told me.
“Uh, okay, what did you have in mind?” I asked him.
“Let's meet at the train station, in the parking lot.”
“What? Why so cloak and dagger, man?”
“Please, I'll explain when you get there, okay?” Peter pleaded.
“Alright, give me fifteen minutes.”
William and I walked back to his house, where I thanked him hugely for listening to my
mess. We agreed to talk again – he needed some time to craft a plan. Off to the Morristown train
station, I half expected Oleg to be there waiting for me, rational or not. How Peter got hold of my
cell phone number was beyond me, but he could have just called the office this week and asked
Mary for it. Susan probably didn't give it to him, because he wouldn't have called her on account
of the stupid feud between Claire and my wife.
Pulling up to the station to find Peter sitting in his SUV, I parked my car, then looked for
any signs of Oleg and his friend. Nothing. I decided to climb into the front passenger seat next to Peter.
“Okay, you got me here,” I snorted in the most „I don't trust you in the slightest' tone of
voice.
“Well, I tried to tell you this at the soccer game this week, but you wouldn't let me,”
Peter exclaimed.
I sighed loudly. “So, I am letting you now,” I said exasperatedly. “What is it?”
Peter turned, looking right into my eyes – it was very disturbing – and took a deep breath.
“Nick, they are going to kill you no matter what.”
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I looked at him and quickly decided to act surprised. It was more like a natural response
even though I was way ahead of him on the information side of things.
“What?” I screamed.
“They don't plan on keeping you and your family alive once you give them the trial
information,” Peter exclaimed, looking really stressed out and beet red in the cheeks. “You guys
need to leave town.”
If Peter was not on my side here, he would never be telling me all of this. That would just
be crazy. I was sure Peter had considered the risk of Oleg following me to our meeting at the train
station, so he had to be on the level. Oleg and his criminal network would not like to see us
talking. I would hate to think what they would do. I thought about warning Peter about this, but
he had to be well aware.
“We can't just pick up and leave in the middle of the night,” I told Peter. “My family is
too big and I haven't told any of them about this crap.”
Peter sat back on his seat and rubbed his forehead. “Oh man, we need a plan!”
“Hey bud, can we talk outside the truck?” I asked, motioning my head outside and
bugging out my eyes.
Peter looked at me, nodding his head. “Okay...”
I walked around to his side of the SUV. “I wouldn't be surprised if Oleg has bugged your
truck.”
“Oh, they trust me, but if you want to play it safe…”
“I'm going to fake my death,” I told Peter.
He looked at me, didn't say anything for a few seconds, and began to rub his chin.
“Really? You thought of that just now?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “I've known about their plans for me for a few days now, actually.”
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Did Peter just expect me to sit on my hands and not try to think my way out of the
Czechs' grip? Maybe he really did believe that Oleg trusted him, because I was way more
paranoid than Peter.
Peter squinted at me and laughed mildly. “Now this is how you need to be thinking!” he
shouted. “How did you figure it all out?”
“Oh, it's a long story, but let's just say that Oleg slips up.”
“Okay, now what did you tell them about when this drug trial is going to wrap up?” Peter
asked me. “It's not anytime soon, is it?”
“No, no, we should finish by late March, early April, but I'll need to pull off my crime
scene well before then.”
I decided to hold off on telling Peter about my talk with William. It wasn't really a trust
issue here, but it was more that I just didn't want Peter running off to talk with William. He
totally would have done that which could have blown my plan to pieces. It surely would have
pissed William off mightily, in any case.
“How do you intend to pull it off?” Peter asked.
“I haven't thought that far, yet, but it's really the only choice that I have. Oleg will be
watching me very carefully. You know he killed Zeke?”
“Yeah, I heard about Zeke from Charlie, but I didn't link to Oleg,” Peter stated. “Are you
sure?”
The past few nights I had woken in the middle of the night from dreams where I had
plowed over Oleg in the street, with my mind creating two different scenarios. The first scenario
had me driving away, unharmed, with Tom clueless about me running over a strange man. The
second scenario had Tom screaming in the back seat and Oleg's partner gunning us down before
we could escape down the road. Obviously, the first dreamy sequence made no sense at all.
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“He was standing outside my house and I almost ran him over as Tom and I drove Zeke
to the Vet.”
Peter stared at the ground and started to shake his head. “Shit, man, I am so sorry for all
of this. You know, I thought I had this whole money laundering thing under control until Julio
Viola decided to spread his wings. That doctor in Philadelphia didn't stand a chance.”
Peter and Claire had a little, yappy dog named Annie, but Oleg hadn't messed with their
dog. Probably because these guys needed Peter to stick around and be functional enough to keep
up the money laundering scheme. I was sure Peter was doing his best to stay important in the eyes
of Julio Viola. That was a luxury I clearly didn't have.
“How did you meet this guy?” I asked him.
“Oh, a while back, I was looking for new investors and I was on a boat trip with a buddy
of mine from college. It was a wild party on that boat that day, and Julio was there. We started
talking, and the next thing I know, he sends some dude named Martin the following Monday to
threaten me into laundering a huge amount of money for the Viola drug cartel.”
“It sounds like you got set up,” I said, slapping him on the back.
“No, I was just in the wrong place at wrong damn time,” Peter shot back. “But I can't say
it hasn't been pretty nice having their millions parked in my funds over the past year. The stock
market is in the toilet.”
Spoken like a true money launderer.
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Saturday, November 9th
2pm