Something Fishy — Shock and Awe

In even more whispered conversation, I told Uncle Jac that I had a video recording on everything as it happened on my iPhone. He didn't show any emotion, but I think he was relieved to know that there might be solid evidence to back up my story. The only downside to this revelation was that my phone was hidden in a drawer in the kitchen of my house.

Uncle Jac reassured me that he was going to be my guardian angel throughout the ordeal. He told me my only job now was to get well. Meanwhile, he was going to review the case against me in detail and form a strategy for my defense. He was also going to see if he could arrange bail for me. I was to sit tight for a few days, and he would get back to me. I asked him to inquire about my children if that was possible. He assured me that he seemed to have a good relationship with Lucy and would work through her in that regard.

I was released from the city hospital and transferred to the city jail. I hadn't heard from Uncle Jac for three days. Finally, I was taken before a judge. Uncle Jac was there. Apparently, Uncle Jac had made the case for me that I deserved bail. However, I was under house arrest. During his absence, Uncle Jac had leased a townhouse in a gated community. It was to be my new residence. It was also where Uncle Jac stayed. I could not leave the small area of the gated community.

Uncle Jac had a number of irons in the fire. He didn't tell me what all of them were, at least not until they worked out one way or the other. He had hired a private investigative agency to help him out and had them working on several leads.

The big challenge was retrieving my cell phone from its hiding place in my kitchen drawer. It was certain that I couldn't do it, since I had a restraining order keeping me away from my house, my wife and my kids. Uncle Jac would never consider breaking into the house to get it back. He knew he could find a way sooner or later but the opportunity hadn't arisen yet.

In the meantime, Uncle Jac had set a new cell phone account for himself and me. So, at least, I had the ability to call someone if necessary. One person I did call was my neighbor, the Colonel. I filled him in on my status and situation. He said that some things had been going on around the house I might like to know about. When I told Uncle Jac about this, he had me invite the Colonel over for a few beers and barbequed steaks.

The Colonel told us that one night about a week after the incident and before the house was turned back to Tracey, he heard his brown Lab, Semper, barking at something outside. From his front window, he looked across the street into my driveway and spotted two men in dark clothes surreptitiously using a flashlight at the walk-in door of the garage. He called 911 and reported a possible break-in. Then, he quickly dressed, and with his dog by his side and his aluminum bat in hand, he crossed the street to confront the intruders. The interlopers didn't see or hear him coming before he stood behind them and they tried to pick the garage door lock.

"You picked the wrong neighborhood to burglarize," he said. As the burglars turned around, the Colonel took their picture. They had hoods on, which would prove to any would-be sceptics that these were, in fact, trespassers.

The would-be bandits jumped back at first but instantly realized that the Colonel was alone.

"You had better get out of here, old man," one of them said and took a threatening step toward him.

The Colonel's brown lab was not easily seen in the dark but its menacing growl was heard by the bandits when it stepped between the Colonel and the bad guys and bared its teeth. Also, the Colonel raised his bat and dropped into the stance of a batter getting ready to hit a pitched ball.

The second of the two thieves said, "Let's get outta here." They then retreated down the driveway and into a black SUV that was parked several houses down the block. The Colonel followed them to the street and watched them drive away. He noted that the license plate was covered over.

A few minutes later, a police cruiser arrived and the Colonel was waiting for them. They observed that the house had crime scene tape on the doors. He gave the officers a summary of the event, and after a half-hour of looking around the premises, they wrote out a report and left.

I remembered that Cross had threatened to plant drugs in my car and then have me pulled over and searched on some anonymous tip or at his direction if he was as influential with the police as he had claimed. I was happy, therefore, that I had the Colonel move my car to a safe location unknown to my wife and to Cross.

As if that story wasn't enough, the Colonel had another.

Only two days after Tracey was allowed back in the house, the Colonel noted a black SUV parked in front of my house. As he continued to watch, he observed two men talking to Tracey in front of the open garage door. From hand gestures, it looked like Tracey was pointing to the empty stall where my car is usually parked. After several minutes of animated discussion, Tracey and her guests went inside the house. The men left about forty-five minutes later. However, they did not leave before the Colonel copied down the license plate of the black SUV they drove.

Uncle Jac ran the license plate through one of his sources and found out it was registered to a company called Unique Services. With a little more investigation, he found out the Unique Services was on record as a private investigation company. The only two principles in Unique Services were Jose Gonzales and Miguel Ortego. A little more research revealed that both of them had been police officers in different cities. Jose was asked to resign after a question of theft from the police evidence locker. Miguel was fired for falsifying arrest records. What is more, Unique Services had Stanley Cross's law firm listed as a client.

It became paramount now to recover my cell phone from the kitchen of my house. Uncle Jac was going to do that. His plan was to call Tracey and ask her if he could come over and talk to her directly and informally about the situation. He explained that he wanted to help me and her at the same time by making a lot of the charges go away and settling a number of issues that would make things better for everyone involved.

Tracey knew Uncle Jac, since he was a member of the family, and they had met at many family gatherings. Nevertheless, she was a little suspicious of his intent and told him that she would call him back. The next day, she did return his call and they set up that evening at 6PM as a meeting time. She added, however, that her lawyer insisted that one of his associates attend the meeting, as well. Uncle Jac readily agreed to that stipulation.

Uncle Jac told me everything that happened.

At precisely 6PM, he rang the doorbell of my home. Tracey answered it promptly and invited him in. He said it was nice to see her again and they even hugged for a minute. Tracey was dressed very demurely in a knee-length skirt and a white blouse, with her hair in a ponytail. Once inside, Uncle Jac noticed a young man in a suit and tie and was introduced to Gordon Merritt. He was an associate in the law firm of Stanley Cross. The two men shook hands. The three of them settled in the large family room and Tracey excused herself and said she would bring them coffee.

Once they were seated, Mr. Merritt suggested they get to business. Before doing so, he pulled out a voice recorder, put it on the coffee table and said he was going to make a recording of their conversation. Uncle Jac pulled out his recorder and set it besides that of the lawyer. The two counselors smiled at each other.

Uncle Jac started the conversation. "I'm so sorry that things have developed into this troubling situation for both you and Blake. You two have always been some of my favorite people and you always seemed to be so loving together."

"I'm sorry, too, Uncle Jac. I never wanted it to go this far. I can't believe how out-of-control things have become," Tracey lamented.

Jac went on as if he believed the charges against me were accurate and he was skeptical of my version of events.

"You probably know," Uncle Jac continued, "that he claims that you and Mr. Cross were having an affair and when saw Cross in the house, about ready to take you to your business meeting, he just couldn't handle it anymore and became very angry. He even claims that Mr. Crosse's bodyguard started it."

Counselor Merritt cut in at this point. "We think the evidence, both the testimony of the participants and the physical evidence is pretty conclusive against Mr. Blake."

"I think it is, too, Mr. Merritt," Uncle Jac replied. "That is why I am asking for you, if you can, to testify that, perhaps, Blake was not in his right mind at the time of the incident. Essentially, he snapped momentarily because he was convinced that Mr. Cross was taking his wife away from him. You can point out that up until that time, Blake had always been an ideal husband and father and provider."

Merritt thought for a minute then said, "We might consider something like that IF Mr. Ramsey would plead guilty to the charges against him."

Uncle Jac responded, "Do you mean all of the charges? Or, is there a way that some of the charges can be removed or lessened or pleaded out."

"I would have to consult with Mr. Cross about that. He is very influential with the DA's office. Perhaps we can get back to you with an alternative solution that will make this problem go away. After all, not only would it be better for Mr. Ramsey, but Mr. Cross does not like being in the middle of a highly publicized legal action like this either. It is bad for his reputation and bad for business."

"That's all I came for, Tracey. Thank you for seeing me. Blake wants you to tell the kids that he misses them and that he loves them."

Tracey seemed to sympathize with that thought and her eyes even become a little misty.

Before Uncle Jac turned off his voice recorder he added one other thought. "I hope you realize, Tracey, that if I can prove that Blake's story is true, you would be liable for persecution for perjury, obstruction of justice and a number of other similar crimes; all of which carry jail time."

Gordon Merritt was about to say something when Uncle Jac addressed him. "And you, counselor, if I can prove that you knew your client and Mr. Cross were lying, you would also be subject to legal action as well."

"Before you answer, I would like you two to discuss what I said between you." With that, Uncle Jac picked up his recorder and stood up. "While you're talking, would you mind if I got myself a drink of water?"

"No, no, of course not, Uncle Jac. The kitchen is through there," and Tracey pointed to door by the dining room. "There is ice water in the refrigerator if you prefer."

Uncle Jac made his way to the kitchen. Once there, he verified that he could not be seen from the family room. He noisily opened the refrigerator and then quickly went to the bottom right drawer by the sink. He put his hand into the pile of folded dish towels toward the back of the drawer and felt the form of my iPhone. He quickly put it in his pocket, returned to the refrigerator, found the ice water and poured himself a drink.

After about two minutes, Uncle Jac walked back into the family room. "Before I go, Tracey, do you have anything at all you want to say to me?"

Tracey glanced nervously at Gordon Merritt. Merritt spoke for her. "We have nothing more to say at this time, Mr. Carter. We will let you know what we come up with as far as modifying the charges against Mr. Ramsey. And we will expect you to be compliant if you want this action to go away."

Uncle Jac concluded, "I can't ask more than that. Thank you for seeing me, Tracey. I'll be seeing you in court, Mr. Merritt."

Uncle Jac did not bring the iPhone to the townhouse. Rather, he had made arrangements with a company called Digital Analysis Solutions (DAS) to analyze the contents of the phone. Uncle Jac had briefed the DAS director on the background of the case and the importance of the video/audio recording to my defense. DAS personnel assured Uncle Jac that they understood the situation and would take good care of it. They would call Uncle Jac in a few days with their analysis.

A few days later, Uncle Jac and I were invited to the DAS offices to be briefed on their findings.

DAS had transferred everything on my i-phone to their own server. They had, indeed, located the video in question and made several copies of it. Actually, they made about a dozen copies and stored the files on DVDs, flash drives and on the cloud. There was no way the video was going to be lost, stolen or taken out of existence.

Uncle Jac and I both watched the video for the first time. It was exactly what Uncle Jac was looking for. Audio picked up all of the conversation between Tracey, Cross and me prior to the assault. Parts of the video were jostled around while I was being worked over by Max, but it, nevertheless, showed that I was assaulted and I defended myself. Some sketchy parts of the video were difficult to interpret, but the audio was clear enough to demonstrate what was happening. Fortunately, I had a clear video picture of Max drawing his gun on me.

We thought that the briefing was over, but the DAS director told us there was more. In addition to everything that was on my cell phone before I recorded the event: pictures, phone numbers, e-mail, text, etc. There were 97 new emails sent to me that had not been opened. Also, there were 64 text messages that had been sent to my phone after the video was recorded. DAS said that they carefully analyzed all the new information on my phone without opening any files. Almost all of them were verified as coming from my friends, relatives and associates. However, there was one that was spurious. It was received only one day after the incident and its origin could not be traced. DAS opened it on their server and found that it contained 27 pedophilic pictures of young girls and boys. If I had opened that file, the pictures would have been uploaded to my cell phone picture files.

"When I destroyed my computer," I said, "Cross couldn't upload the photos to that, so he tried to plant them in my cell phone instead."

Uncle Jac and I thanked DAS profusely for their work on our behalf. He decided to leave my cell phone with them for the time being, but he took several copies of the video with him. At home, we looked at them again. Afterwards, Uncle Jac became pensive.

"What's bothering you Uncle Jac," I asked.

"I'm wondering how we should proceed from this point," he answered. If we took this evidence to the DA now, we could be pretty-well assured that he would drop all charges against you. Further, if he wanted to pursue it, he might have a case against Cross, Max and Tracey. More than likely, however, the DA would make it all go away, especially if Stanley Cross's influence was as powerful as we suspect it is.

"What is our other option," I inquired.

Thoughtfully, Uncle Jack answered, "We could let this go until we get to the hearing. The prosecutor would undoubtedly put all the conspirators on the stand and let them tell their story. Then, we could present our side and the DA would be constrained to prosecute them all for conspiracy, perjury, obstruction of justice and a bevy of lesser charges. That would be a lot of jail time.

"And I would get my kids," I mused.

"So, what do you want to do? We could get this over tomorrow or we can play a long game and implicate them all in a complex conspiracy."

I didn't hesitate. "Let's burn them all."

"I was hoping you would say that, Blake. I really want to get them all into court for two reasons. One, I want to expose them publicly. Two, I was always impressed with the way Perry Mason would trap the murderer on the stand using his own testimony. I think every trial lawyer would love to do that. This will be my Perry Mason moment."

I thought it was amusing that an old battle-hardened lawyer like Uncle Jac would harbor such fanciful dreams.

All that was left to do was to wait for the hearing that was scheduled in three weeks. Uncle Jac used that time to prepare his presentation. He commented to me once that there might be a slight problem getting our video admitted as evidence. If we told the prosecution what we had, they might make a move to suppress it. It was Uncle Jac's decision not to reveal anything about our ace in the hole until the hearing.

A week before the hearing, Uncle Jac had taken the time off to return to his home in San Francisco and catch up on his duties to the court and spend some time with his family. It was at that time that I received a call from the guard at the gatehouse.

"Mr. Ramsey," the guard started, "there is a woman at the gate that wants to see you. She says her name is Tracey Ramsey and that she is your wife. Do you want me to let her through?"

I replied, "Tell her to park for a minute and I will let her know."

"Yes sir," he answered.

I immediately put in a call to Uncle Jac and explained what was happening.

"Blake, if she is here to talk, let's see what she has to say. Be courteous and polite. Don't touch her in any way. I don't care how long it's been since you've had sex."

"You don't have to worry, Uncle Jac. She is poison to me."

Uncle jack added, "You know what you have to do, right?"

"Yes, Uncle Jac, I do," I replied.

After I ended my call with Uncle Jac, I called the guard post and told them to let her through.

In the few minutes I had before she knocked at the door, I straightened up the townhouse. There were a lot of legal papers and notes on the dining room table that I threw on the bed. I picked up my beer cans and cleaned up the kitchen, throwing everything in the dishwasher. Finally, I changed into dockers and a knit sport shirt, and combed my hair. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to shave and I had a three-day growth on my face. I thought it made me look rugged.

As soon as Tracey knocked at the door, I opened it. My first impression was that she looked great. She had gone to some trouble to dress for this meeting. She wore a red pleated skirt that was knee-length and a pink Cashmere sweater not quite buttoned all the way up. Her hair was in some sort of casual flip and she had a moderate amount of makeup on. Her lipstick and nails matched the color of her skirt.

"Please come in, Tracey," I said. "It's nice to see you again. You look great!"

"Thank you, Blake," she replied. "You look good, too. In fact, you look very slender and handsome."

"I have had lots of time to work out in the complex exercise room. Except for an occasional beer, I eat a lot of fruits and vegetables, and I've been avoiding sugar, prepared foods and anything that is deep fried."

I went on. "Please sit down on the sofa and I'll get you a glass of white wine." I was being unctuous.

I returned from the kitchen with a glass of white wine for Tracey and a glass of red wine for myself. After a few sips each, I asked her why she wanted to see me.

"I know so much has happened between us, Blake; but I want you to know that I still love you as much as ever. I never, ever thought things would go this far."

I relied, "I know how you wanted things to go. You wanted me to be a cuckold and accept the lifestyle that you wanted with Cross."

"It seemed like it would have all been so simple. All you had to do was acquiesce to letting me play around with Cross. I could have had a great time and still been your loving wife. And we could have made so much money. After a year or so, everything would have been back to the way it was. I would have been just yours forever and ever."

"I'm sorry I spoiled your plans," I said sarcastically.