Regnad Kcin- Private Eye... The Case of the Erstwhile Accountant- Part XIII

in #fiction5 years ago

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I had a hunch that I had found the gateway into this mess and perhaps find the elusive Harold along the way... it all hinged on Elnora's pictures. I had a sneaking suspicion that someone from the past was at least part of the answer- or more probably one of their heirs... these things seemed to be kept in the family- like father, like son. The trick was how to get Otto steered in the right direction without betraying Elnora's past, she had taken me into her confidence and there was no way I would betray her trust. I looked at her sleeping while I had my first cup of coffee and smoke of the day. She had that same small beatific smile on her face as she slept. I guess I had to admit it to myself, I was falling in love- with a client of all people. This was no longer just a job- it was personal now and I would make those who had harmed her so long ago pay... if not them, their offspring.

I had made a list while she pointed out the culprits, several of whom were still alive, but very old. If the all in the family scenario held, their children would be engaged in the same behavior. I had read somewhere that the elites groomed their children to follow in their footsteps. If this turned out to be true it might not bode well when and if we found Harold. Anyway, the logical place to start would be with Otto and his computer. If that panned out I would find a way to infiltrate this network. Otto had mentioned Satanism and witchcraft, the thought of which made chills run down my spine. Elnora awoke, sitting up and stretching her arms out to her side.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty, coffee?" I asked.

"But I'm supposed to be getting coffee for you," she protested.

I went downstairs and fetched us both a mug of joe. "I think I'm on to something," I told her. "If we look into those people in the picture album it might give us some leads... both about what's in those records and in finding Harold."

I went on to explain that my problem was getting the information to Otto without revealing her past.

"I don't care," she exclaimed, "as long as we can stop those people from harming other children."

"I'm not sure we can," I replied, "not entirely at least. The way these kind of people operate is that they'll sacrifice a few people way down the ladder to protect the ones at the top."

She looked disappointed. "But they're the ones doing the most damage... the ones making money from all of the suffering."

"I know sweetheart," I said taking her hand. "We'll get as many as possible- I promise." "Do you remember anything about any kind of rituals?" I asked her.

"Not really rituals," she replied. "More like parties- costume parties where everybody dressed up. And there were kids, most of them I didn't know. People would disappear into rooms and then come back later... I don't know what happened to the kids. Only what they did to me."

"What happened to you?" I asked not really wanting to know. Knowing would only piss me off more than I already was.

"They would tell me to take my clothes off," she began, "then they would have me pose. They always told me that I was special. Once I was naked they'd touch me, shoving their fingers where they didn't belong. Sometimes they would tie me up and gag me and have sex in my butt. It hurt, but they said when I was older I would understand. Sometimes the wives would participate."

This was too much, I fought off the urge to jump up and throw my mug through the French doors, but instead I put my arms around her and held her close. "Nobody can hurt you now," I said trying to convince myself more than her.

"I know," she smiled kissing my cheek. "You need to start with the Gettys... and Disney. I know he's dead, but I've heard things about what goes on at that park. Kids going missing and stuff."

Before I contacted Otto I wanted to run some of this by Kevin to pick his brain... he was one of those people that scoured what they called the alternative news, about conspiracies and that sort of thing. I joined him in the kitchen where he was having coffee with Flora, while Elnora was getting dressed. They both confirmed what Elnora had told me. When Flora asked where I had come across the information, I remained elusive: "Just something Elnora had heard," I said.

I called Otto on the encrypted phone and as soon as I mentioned the Gettys, he went into high dudgeon. "That Getty Center and their home have underground passages underneath them," he said excitedly. He went on to describe how they were used to traffic children and implied that all sorts of unspeakable rituals went on down there. I couldn't wait to hear what he had to say about Disney.

When he had calmed down a bit, I mentioned Disney and once again he launched into a diatribe talking about some exclusive after-hours club at Disneyland and how the Mickey Mouse Club was used to program and groom children for the pedophile elites... all the way from Annette and Darlene of the 1950's through Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears and the current crop of Hollywood misfits including Katy Perry, Selena Gomez and more... and it wasn't just the girls, he added excitedly. It all seemed to match up with what Elnora had told me, although I didn't mention any of that to him.

"Find me proof," I told him. "Something that will stand up in court."

Elnora wanted to run some errands so I insisted she take Kevin along for the ride, he could play chauffeur- I knew he had been itching to drive that Bentley ever since he first saw it.

"I'll only be gone half an hour or so," she protested, "I'm just picking up some cleaning and getting my hair done."

But I was insistent. "I'm sure Kevin will enjoy that," I said. He flipped me the bird behind his back on the way to the car. I settled down on the patio with a glass of Scotch, a fresh pack of Lucky's and my trusty box of records... I was going to try to make sense of it from the perspective of a detective rather than a computer whiz- couldn't let Otto have all the fun. Vito lay down next to my chaise lounge.

I was about half way through my second glass of scotch when Vito jumped up and dashed into the bushes. I had taken to wearing my .45 most of the time so I checked to make sure there was one in the chamber before jumping up and running after him. I headed in the direction of the commotion and found Blackie McKinley with Vito clamped firmly to his leg... he was reaching for his service Berretta.

"Get this fucking mutt off me before I shoot him," he snarled.

I stepped on his hand holding the .45 trained at his head. "I wouldn't do that, or anything else," I said reaching down to take his badge from his belt. "You're just an armed trespasser," I informed him. "I'm here protecting this property and perfectly within my rights to shoot you." I waved his badge and told him, "you should keep this prominently displayed and not in your pocket."

He glared up at me saying: "Captain Cummings isn't going to like this."

"This is the second time I've found you trespassing where you don't belong without a warrant," I said. "There are laws against that sort of thing... your boss should really know better, being a captain and all." I dropped his badge on his chest and tugged Vito's collar. Blackie's pants were torn and he was bleeding pretty good.

"I'd have that looked at," I told him. He got up and limped toward his car which was parked on the adjacent street. "I think we both deserve a treat," I told Vito who looked up in agreement. We headed back to the house.

"Was that that detective?" Elnora asked. They had just pulled in as Vito and I came out of the bushes.

"He was just getting acquainted with Vito," I laughed. "I need to run into the Parker Center and I don't think he'll be back today." I wanted to have a word with Weasel Cummings myself. "I'll be back shortly."

I got to the Parker Center and parked in a visitor spot in the underground garage although my gold shield still warranted me a space in detective parking. Once inside I took the elevator up to the floor that housed Cummings' office. I still had plenty of friends on the force so I stopped to say hello to a few of them... who knows when I might need their help. On the way to Cummings' office I ran into Hank Kosloff, the "Crazy Russian, who was a captain himself now.

"Whatcho doin up here?" he asked with a grin. Apparently word of Blackie's runin with Vito had made its way downtown.

"I came to see The Weasel," I told him.

"If you need backup, just yell," he smiled.

Leroy Cummings was a short heavyset black man with a large shaved head. He was almost a dead ringer for his namesake Rep. Elijah Cummings of Maryland- enough so as to make me wonder if they were related... and the resemblance didn't stop with their looks- both were as crooked as a dog's hind leg and as dumb as a box of rocks- but slick enough to work the system to their advantage.

"And what can I do for you, former detective Kcin?" he asked extending his hand.

"I want you to call off your pitbull," I told him ignoring the hand, which he immediately withdrew.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said feigning innocence.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," I returned, "I didn't come down here to play games- I want him to lay off, or next time I might not be inclined to let him off with a warning."

"Oh," he said smiling, "I think I heard something about that... how do you like living out in Thousand Oaks, by the way?"

"Look Cummings," said putting my hands on his desk leaning forward, "I'm not some sissy councilman that you're putting the squeeze on- I fight back, and believe me I won't hesitate to drop the hammer on you or your goon."

"We all have something... or someone we don't want to lose," he smiled placidly. "I'd be careful how you talk to people if I were you."

"I've got enough socked away to send you to Pelican Bay for 20 years," I lied bluffing all the way. "Like I said, I'm not some sissy councilman you can push around, I push back." With that I turned on my heel and walked away leaving The Weasel with a shocked look wondering just how much I had.

When I hit the hall I saw Blackie McKinley coming my way on crutches with a cast on his leg- apparently Vito had dome a better job than I thought. Behind him I could see Hank Kosloff in one of the cubicles waving a twenty dollar bill above his head. On my way past I kicked one of Blackie's crutches out from under him and half turned before muttering "sorry" as I passed. I grabbed the bill with a grin and high-fived a grinning Kosloff before hitting the elevators. I felt so much better.

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Hey Rich just had a sudden break of being emerged maybe it's just me but what is the time period for the story ? As when you mentioned Katy Perry and Selena Gomez I felt like we suddenly where in a completely different time period, regardless good work.

It's contemporary... The main character Reg is kind of an anachronism

ah, the old breed of investigators still lives, roughing up a cop and getting away with it,
The list of famous names is growing well, it is just as well you are writing fiction.

Yup, truth disguised as fiction!

A very wise way, then, when the front door disintegrates and all the .45's pour in, your defence is "it was only fiction to make the story interesting', way to go.

When and if they do... I won't go alone.

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