Siblings (18 page)

Chapter 39

Wilson got the call the minute he closed the apartment door. It was if they were watching his every move. They were, in fact; if anything, the Abbotts erred on the side of extreme caution. To complicate matters even further, the watchers were being watched by the FBI. A classic, this is me, watching you, watching him, etcetera scenario.

“Big Al. I’ve got a special run for you. You need to pay another visit to the gazebo. Your contact will be the same guy as last time. He’ll be there at eight this evening. He’ll have three shopping bags for you, but they’ll all be going to the same place. This is a big one. There’ll be fifteen grand in this for you.”

“Wow, what’s in those bags?”

“I think we agreed that the less you know the better. Just pick it up and deliver it to the address shown. Can you do that?”

“Sure, of course.”

“Don’t fuck this up. There’re a lot of people depending on this delivery. It can open up a whole bunch of opportunities for us; you included.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll be at the gazebo at eight. You can count on me.”

***

Wil approached the gazebo at about five to eight. A dark figure was sitting in the front row of seats. The silhouette looked familiar. He stood watching the man for several minutes before walking down the aisle to the front. He sat down next to the man and waited.

“It’s good to see you again, Big Al.”

“Same here. What have you got for me tonight?”

He smiled. “Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full, and they’re all going to the same location. Sign here.” He handed the clipboard to Wil for his signature. This time, Wilson looked at what he was signing. It was a standard warehouse receiving document. Listed was an “Inventory Item” simply shown as a “Shopping Bag;” quantity shown was three.
That all looks okay,
he thought
.
He signed on the dotted line and handed the clipboard back to the man who was already starting to walk towards the waiting black SUV. He turned and added, “Good luck tonight.”

Wilson said in a low voice, “I hope you got all that.” He looked at addresses on each of the packages. “They’re all for William Hopkins. Boy, this is sure a lot of stuff.” He counted the packages. “There’re fifteen in all.”

Wilson picked up the three bags. They were a lot heavier than last time.
There’s more than hash in those packages.
Aware that he was probably being watched, he walked straight to his car and put the shopping bags in the trunk. He pulled away from the curb and drove slowly toward Hopkins’ house.

Lost in his thoughts, Wilson suddenly realized that this could be the last delivery he would ever have to make. The nightmare could finally be over and he could finally earn redemption for the mistakes of his youth. That thought morphed into a brief visualization of his father hugging him and saying how proud he was of him, followed by hugs from his mother, Richard, and Maggie. Wilson realized for the first time that it was probably the forgiveness of his father that he wanted the most; it was of prime importance. He smiled, and as he did, all the apprehension about the trip disappeared.

Wilson reached the block and looked for a parking spot near the house. He was surprised to find the block filled; several stretch limousines having taken up a half-dozen spaces. He finally found an open spot around the corner. He grabbed the three shopping bags and proceeded to Hopkins’ front door.

As he approached the house, William Hopkins opened the door. He smiled as he said, “Big Al, it’s good to see you again. Come in.” He closed the door behind Wilson. “Here, let me take one of those. They look heavy.”

“They’re a lot heavier than last time.”

“Good, they’re supposed to be. Let’s go into the great room. I’ve got a few guests that are waiting for this stuff.”

Wil followed him down the hall into a large room where at least twelve men were enjoying drinks and conversation. A quick scan was all he needed to know that these were not average partygoers. He was certain that he was in the presence of drug dealers and Mafioso.

“Put ’em down here,” Hopkins directed.

Wilson put the two bags he was carrying next to the third. Immediately two men came over and picked them up and took them out of the room.

“It’ll take them a while to check out the shipment. Can I get you a drink?”

“I’m good. I have to drive and I don’t like to drink and drive. They got me once and the judges in this town are very tough on repeat offenders.”

“I understand. There’s some shrimp and other goodies over there on the table. Help yourself, Big Al.”

“Thanks, Mr. Hopkins.”

“That’s Bill. Remember?”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, Bill.”

“That’s okay. Now enjoy yourself. I’ll be back as soon as we get things checked out.”

Wilson looked around the room. His imagination played tricks on him as he focused on each face.
That fat one looks like a Joey “bag of donuts.” That man he’s talking to could have the moniker “Shorty” and the guy behind him might easily be a “Dutch.” Oh wow. I used to think that the thing about the broken noses and gangsters was a stereotype, but this group sort of proves that it’s well-justified. What a group. I’ll be lucky if I get out of here in one piece. One good thing is that no one in the room seems to be paying any attention to me. I’m good with that.

His concern over his personal safety was soon alleviated. Bill showed up with the receipt already signed. “Everything is in order. Here’s your receipt. Thanks!” Clipped to the paper were two one hundred dollar bills.

Wilson looked at the paper and then at Bill. “Gee! Thanks, Bill.”

“You’re welcome. You’ve earned it. Good night.”

As he walked down the steps, Wilson heard the door lock behind him.
He walked quickly to his car. As he pulled away from the curb, another car approached to fill the spot; a black SUV.

His cell phone rang. It was the emergency throwaway phone he bought just to keep in touch with Agent Hawkins. “Wil, get your ass out of that neighborhood as quick as you can.” Wil could hear a lot of excited voices in the background, but he couldn’t make out what the commotion was all about. Hawkins repeated, “Get the hell out of there. All hell is going to break loose at that house any minute now. Keep to your usual routine for the next few days as this thing pans out. We’ll be in touch when it’s safe. Now get going. Oh, by the way, great job tonight. If this goes as expected, it’ll finally be over for you.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. I’m a block from the highway and I’m heading straight home.”

The connection went dead as he entered the on-ramp.

***

The headlines in the paper the next day credited the FBI with a major sting involving forty known drug dealers and a large cache of hashish, heroin and meth worth over one quarter of a billion dollars on the street. Local TV news showed pictures of some of the men being taken from a house on Waterford Lane, in the fashionable area of Wallington Falls. Wil looked closely at one of the pictures showing a group of men being escorted into an FBI van. He could clearly see George and Bobby Abbott were among them. His heart skipped a beat as he realized that they could be off the street and out of his life for good.

Two days after the raid he was surprised when a man identifying himself as a messenger from George Abbott appeared at his door. Doing his best to stifle his unease, Wilson invited the man into his apartment.

“George asked me to stop by and have a talk with you.”

Wilson, realizing what was at stake, was determined to put on the performance of his life; immediately getting confrontational with the man. “What the hell is going on? George promised me that my only involvement would be as a messenger. Now the police are looking for anyone that was in that neighborhood. The news reports said they have surveillance photos of cars that were anywhere near that house. They’re going to ID my car and I’m going to go back to jail.” His face showed genuine concern.

“Relax, kid. They’re not looking for you. This is a Fed sweep. They’re not interested in minnows; they’re only going after the barracudas. You’re just not a big enough fish to be of interest to them. You gotta keep your cool. Most of all, you gotta keep your mouth shut. If by some chance they do ID your car, have a good excuse for driving in that area. There’s no way they can prove that you were anywhere near that house. There’s no way they can prove you were transporting that stuff. You’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about as long as you do as you’re told.”

“I did my part and I have the signed receipt right here.” He handed the man the paper. “Now I understand why George offered me so much money. My deal with him was to deliver only hash; maybe a little pot. He never said anything about horse or meth. I don’t like being used like that.”

“Didn’t you check what was in the bags when you signed for them?”

“No. There was no way I could do that. I just signed for the three shopping bags. I had no idea what was in them. I certainly wasn’t going to open the packages. I wouldn’t have known what most of them were, anyway. I just did as I was told. Now, where’s my fifteen grand?”

“Look, I’m sorry, but there isn’t going to be any money.”

“What are you talking about? It’s not my fault you guys screwed up. Why should I be out money?”

“Because that’s how it goes sometimes. We lost a quarter of a billion dollars in product the other day. There is no money without product. Get it?”

“Well, you can tell George that I don’t work for welchers. If he beats this rap, tell him not to bother me again. I’m washed up with the Abbotts. You got that?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’ll pass that along. If it’s any relief for you at all, I don’t blame you. I didn’t get my cut either.”

“It’s not. You know the expression ‘money talks, bullshit walks.’ You can tell George not to worry about me talking; my lips are sealed. If it’s one thing that Wilson Symington isn’t, it’s a rat. He already knows that from last time.”

“He’ll be glad to hear that. He remembers that you were loyal then and he’s grateful now for your silence. Okay, our business is done. Just see that you keep your mouth shut. Capiche?”

Wilson breathed a sigh of relief as the man let himself out of the apartment.
It’s hard to believe that this is finally over. I hope that Special Agent Hawkins and Mr. Blaine deliver on what they promised. That’s the only thing that would make the living hell that I went through worthwhile.

Chapter 40

Richard answered the phone. “Dr. Parsons, this is Max at the clinic. You have an appointment tonight at eight-thirty. This one is a long-term. From what I gather, she was living with some guy and was hoping he would marry her so she could have the baby. Her boyfriend walked out on her last week and now she wants the baby aborted. Mr. Steele approved it.”

“This is very short notice. It’s a good thing my schedule is open. How far along is she?”

“About twenty-four weeks.”

“Ouch.”

“Is that a problem for you, Doctor?”

“Not a problem from a medical viewpoint, but I thought that our agreement was for me to operate on first trimester abortions only. Of course, Mr. Steele and I never discussed the timing element, but he led me to believe that I’d be dealing with young ladies that made a mistake with their meds and wanted to correct it as quickly as possible.”

“Yeah, I know all that, but shit happens. When it does he expects you to wipe it up. If you have a problem with that, take it up with him. I just schedule the rooms. Okay?”

“Sure. But I can’t do the procedure without examining the patient first. You’re going to have to allow an additional half-hour for that. If I’m going to perform a D&E or a D&X I’ll need the room to be set up for both. Also, make sure that Nurse Betty is assigned to assist me. These operations are detail intensive. I’m going to have to have assistance I can rely on.”

“Got it. Will you also need a staff doctor on stand-by?”

“That’s a good idea, but I want him on stand-by only, not in the room. I don’t like to work with anyone when I’m doing an abortive procedure. It’s not like a table-top operation; a second person just gets in the way. Make sure he knows what these procedures are, though. If I end up needing him, I want somebody with experience. You got all that?”

“Yes, anything you need, Doc. I’ll change the time to eight, then, to give you the extra time you need. You’ll be in room 3B. That’s the best equipped room for what you have in mind. Her name is Ms. Sutherland.”

“Thank you, Max. I’ll be there at eight.” Richard put the phone down and contemplated the situation for a moment.
I never thought that I’d be treating these assignment like I do my staff position. It’s getting so matter-of-fact.

***

Abortions require a different set of procedures depending on which trimester the patient is in. The timing falls into one of the following categories:

1
st
Trimester from conception to 13 weeks.

2
nd
Trimester from 14-27 weeks.

3
rd
Trimester from 28 weeks to birth.

Most first trimester surgical procedures are performed by vacuum aspiration, which sucks the fetus, the placenta, and any remaining material from the uterus.

Second trimester abortions differ significantly from those of the first. They require a procedure called Dilation and Evacuation (D&E). It calls for the doctor to clasp onto parts of the fetus at random, breaking them off from the body and evacuating them. When all the parts have been removed, the placenta and any remaining material are vacuumed from the uterus.

Third trimester abortions use a procedure known as Dilation and Extraction (D&X). They are often referred to as “Partial Birth Abortions.” When a D&X is performed, the fetus is positioned with the feet down. The legs, arms, and body are pulled from the birth canal with only the head remaining inside. The doctor then punctures the base of the skull with a surgical scissors, inserts a suction tube to extract the brain tissue, which in turn causes the skull to collapse. The fetus is then removed and the placenta and any remaining materials are vacuumed from the uterus.