The Lawyer and the Killer Ch. 12

Susan started, "Two years ago your boss, Oscar Camulos, paid my boyfriend, Shawn McClellan, $10,000.00 to kill Gretel." She saw his reaction and didn't like it, but went on, "He wasn't my boyfriend then, but he was, and still is, working for the Federal Government. He's a CID agent. His boss told him not to kill Gretel. They picked her up, explained the situation, and hid her away with a new identity, in the witness protection system."

Susan pulled out her cell phone, opened the lid and handed it to Hrabosky.

He looked at the phone. He looked at her. He looked back at the phone. Turmoil was written all over his face, "She's alive?" He started to react, but stuffed it back inside.

Susan told him, "Why don't you ask her yourself. Hit my contact list and find Gretel. She's waiting for you right now."

Hrabosky's hands were shaking so much he couldn't seem to get his big fingers to touch the right buttons.

Susan took the phone, "Let me." She hit the number and handed the phone back.

It rang one time, and even Susan could hear her voice, "Larry, is that you?"

"Gretel?"

"Larry I've missed you. Do you still remember me? Do you still care at all?"

"Gretel is that you?"

"Yes it's me. Do you still love me?"

Susan watched as Scarface died and Larry Hrabosky returned from the dead.

He said, "Oh God! Oh Jesus Christ! Gretel! You're alive! It's you. It's really you. Of my God! Of course I care. Where are you? Can you still stand me?"

Gretel had been prepped for the phone call, "Larry you mustn't know where I am, not yet. You have a job to do. You see the woman next to you."

He was crying, sobbing, blubbering, and he was alive! "Yes, I see her."

Gretel for her part, was being brave for the both of them, "You have to protect her tonight. Don't worry about Camulos. Don't think about revenge, not anything, except taking care of that woman. Are you listening?"

He kept whimpering and sobbing, "Uh huh."

Gretel talked, "The government's got Camulos. He's not for you, not tonight. You're going to testify against him. Later, you're going to be the biggest rat of the year. You're going to get immunity. They'll arrest him tonight, and you'll be one of the one's who'll pull the plug on him, but you've got to protect that woman. When things happen tonight you get out and get her out right away. Understand?"

Hrabosky was dizzied by events. Gretel was alive. She was there for him. All he had to do was take care of Susan Slattery, and then later testify against the man they said wanted the one and only person who ever cared about him dead. He looked at Susan, big tears were dribbling down his face, "Oscar wanted Gretel dead, why?"

Susan had the answer, "Oscar Camulos doesn't like to share. If she was alive and you cared enough you might have abandoned him. With her dead he was all you had."

He spoke back into the cell phone, "I love you Gretel. Say you love me."

Susan heard the woman's voice, "I love you Larry. Now go do what you have to do."

Hrabosky closed the cell phone, "When will I get to see her?"

Susan held his hand, "She's in the hotel."

He burst into tears again, "Oh Jesus, oh Jesus, oh God." He stiffened, "Hold on. I've got to get it together."

He stood up, "I know I'm ugly, but can I hug you?"

Susan jumped up and wrapped her arms around him. She caressed his cheek, the side with the awful scar, "That can be fixed you know."

He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, "Let's go downstairs."

By the time they reached the hallway Larry Hrabosky, visually disfigured broken hearted lover, had turned back into Scarface. He was a man with a mission.

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In the main dining room most of the people had already arrived. Hrabosky showed Susan to her seat next to the beast Camulos, and then he stood back and away from the table. He was one of several invisible hoodlums there simply to watch out for their overlords. Only in this one instance Hrabosky wasn't watching out for Camulos anymore. He was there to protect a girl.

By and large the dinner was pleasant. Susan ordered fish and enjoyed it. Camulos, her 'date', had ordered steak, and managed to spill his water, lose his napkin, pick his nose, get steak sauce on his shirt cuffs, and generally be the swine he customarily was.

Most of the dinner discussion involved old jokes, and comments about betting, sex, making money, more sex, and how good they were in bed. Susan bet most of them were probably too old to do more than fantasize.

For dessert, Susan got a small piece of cheesecake. Mot of the others got some kind of pie. Then someone gave the signal, and the party began to disband so it could reconvene upstairs.

Susan and Camulos stood side by side on the elevator as it went up. Standing behind her was Hrabosky. She felt his hand softly touch her elbow. A few days ago that same hand was a source of fear; tonight it meant reassurance.

About twenty minutes later the seven men, with their small entourage, all reconvened in one of the larger suites. A tray with finger foods sat along a side wall, but, having just eaten, no one was interested. Two of the men made a few opening remarks. Camulos made a stupid statement about all the money they'd make, and then something extraordinary occurred. One of the men stood up.

The man once had a daughter, a real innocent. She'd disappeared. He'd been frantic. He'd hired private investigators, badgered the FBI, and used his own men to try and find her. No one turned up anything. He never found out anything. Had she been kidnapped by some deviant? Had some old enemy used her to settle a score? He never knew.

Agent Miller had paid him a visit that afternoon. His daughter had been safe all along. The government never told him out of concern for her safety. Camulos had arranged her murder; a murder that was to be completed by McClellan, but Houston had intervened

That very afternoon the man at the table had been able to talk with the one great treasure of his life. Tonight he stood at the long end of the table ready to pass judgment. Camulos, just four chairs away, was oblivious of what was about to occur.

The man threw a picture of his daughter on the table, "Do any of you know who this is?"

The men all looked at the picture. Camulos looked at the picture and turned a ghostly white.

The man standing looked at Oscar Camulos, "Who is that girl Oscar?"

Camulos looked up innocently, "I don't know. Never saw her before."

The man started moving toward Camulos, "She's my daughter, and until this afternoon I thought she was dead. She's not dead. He swung his arms around at all the other men, "She's not dead because that man," he pointed to Camulos, "that man didn't succeed in killing her." He jumped toward Camulos with a fork in his hand, intent on jamming it into his throat, "You murderous bastard. You tried to kill my little girl. I've got you now!"

Normally, under circumstances like this it would have Hrabosky's job to step up and defend his boss, but not on this night! He reached around and pulled Susan's chair back, grabbing her arm he pulled her out of harms way.

Camulos yelled, "Larry!"

Larry Hrabosky, with Susan neatly tucked on his left side away from the table was already halfway toward the door.

Camulos, no longer the fearsome monster yelled again, "Larry!"

Larry Hrabosky turned back. He didn't yell. Like a serpent he hissed, "Fuck you Oscar."

Camulos jumped backward to avoid the upward thrust of the fork, "Isn't someone going to help me?" His voice was quivering. Like the coward he'd always been, he couldn't stand and fight on equal terms.

The man with the fork had lunged and missed. He gathered for a second strike.

Camulos was on the floor, on his knees, "No please! Don't hurt me!"

The front door burst open! A dozen FBI agents flooded the room! Led by Mark Miller, followed by Irene, they closed on the men at the table. Guns out, badges flashing Agent Miller shouted, "You're all under arrest!"

The man who'd thrown the picture was grabbed by Irene and pulled back and away. As quickly as the agents had arrived she had him halfway out the door.

One of the thugs along the wall pulled a pistol. A hail of bullets dropped him like a rock. All around the room other hands reached for the ceiling.

All the others were forced against the wall, frisked, and disarmed. As Susan and Hrabosky moved toward the door, accompanied by FBI agents and the accusing hoodlum they could hear Agent Miller solemnly begin the litany, "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will..."

Just like that the plotters were caught, herded together, and arrested. Susan was ecstatic! Camulos, at last, was out of their lives. Larry Hrabosky herded her out of the room and into the hallway.

As Susan and Larry traveled down the hall a short in stature, very pretty, little blond haired woman stepped from the shadows. Hrabosky shouted, "Gretel!"

Susan watched as they rushed into each others arms. She was amazed as the man who'd been so ugly simply disappeared, just the change of his expression; he'd been transformed into a handsome, even heroic, human being.

She was able to watch another reunion as the hoodlum who'd thought he'd lost his daughter almost collapsed when she stepped into the hallway. His daughter, the girl he'd thought had been killed was alive!

Susan was overwhelmed, she'd been a part of a great event; a serious criminal conspiracy had been detected and unraveled, and she'd seen the happy reunion of four people.

Then she saw him. It was her turn. Shawn was standing in the hall waiting for her, but he wasn't alone. Wrapped in his big strong manly arms was their little girl, the child of a forced coupling. She ran down the hall. He held out his free arm. She fell into it; felt it wrap around her shoulders. She was home! They were together, forever, at last!

An Epilogue:

It was a late fall; a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The leaves had mostly fallen from the trees in and around the Washington suburban community where Susan and Shawn lived.

Kim and Kia were sitting on the sofa, bored nigh on to tears. They were watching everyone clatter and bang around the room, while concurrently trying to make some sense of the North American Football on the television. It had been difficult for the two of them. Neither set of parents were overly excited about the marital settlement they'd agreed on. They'd each agreed to hold to their own personal religious beliefs, and had opted for civil nuptials. Shawn and Susan stood as witnesses. That was back in early August. Kia was three months along now.

Shawn and Susan might have had problems too. Susan's parents, though separated, were both still die hard Presbyterians. They had insisted on a church more on the high socio-economic end of the Protestant denominations; preferable Presbyterian, Episcopal, or at the least the Lutherans. Susan and Shawn aggravated both by settling for a classic middle of the road Methodist Church.

Though Susan's parents hadn't been married for years, her mother had kept her rings. She insisted Susan take both engagement and wedding rings. Her father had heartily agreed. Shawn thought it added special significance to their union.

It had been a beautiful wedding; a perfect wedding. Nearly everyone had been there. Kia, Kim, Shai, Sam, even Mark Miller was there. Susan looked radiant dressed in white. It wasn't a formal wedding dress, though Shawn had wanted her to wear one. She was already several months along with number two, and thought it was a mistake to even wear white. Shawn had been adamant about the color. Hers he said was a purity of the soul, and white was appropriate.

So there they were; a fall afternoon. It was Shawna's christening party, and the house was full. Susan had slipped upstairs and gotten into her new, home style, uniform; baggy, shapeless, sweat pants and shirt. Shawn didn't care. He had everything he ever wanted.

Was it going to be a happily ever after? It was shaping up that way. Nearly eight months along, Susan was radiant, Shawn was beaming, Shawna, a toddler now, was scrabbling around on the floor with her two doting grandparents.

Susan wrapped her arms around her husband's broad shoulders, "So what do you think?"

Shawn looked down at Susan, his wife, his dream come true. He thought about the snappy little lawyer he'd once watched. He thought about a kidnapping. He reflected on a misguided rape turned love affair. He flicked his hand through her hair; he thought about the love, the quiet times they'd already shared, he thought about the perfect baby on the floor and the second one on the way, he thought about their future; a future to be complicated with tap and ballet lessons, Santa Claus, birthdays, pony rides, bed time stories, first days of school, PTA, vacations at the beach, camping trips, church socials, and all the things he'd missed on the front end that were his and Susan's now to share.

He looked at his beautiful wife in her floppy sweat pants. He thought about how beautiful life had become. He kissed the nape of his wife's neck, "What do I think? I think I'm a pretty smart fellow."

She smiled, wrapped her arms around his neck. Susan leaned up to kiss her man, then suddenly, "Damn it Shawn!"

From out of nowhere a big clumsy lumbering yellow Labrador puppy crashed across the dining chasing an angry disgruntled tabby cat.

Susan angrily shouted in her husband's ear, "I told you to crate the damn dog!"

Shawn held his wife closely. Laughing, "Awe come on Susan Annie only wants to be with the rest of us."

"But Shawn!" Susan rejoined, "Tom's old and he's irritable."

Shawn held her tightly, "Susan?"

Susan fell into his embrace, "Oh the hell with it, kiss me."

They kissed.

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Down the street, about a half a block from the happy scene at Susan and Shawn's a man sat in a late model Chevrolet. His face was partly bandaged, the result of the first of what was going to be several cosmetic surgeries. He'd never met Shawn McClellan, so he had decided to slip away just this once to take another look at the man. The man in the car and his wife were in the government's protection program; safe from people like Camulos, safe from the evil that had enveloped them for so long. He put the car in gear, sharply turned the wheel, and slowly drove away. As he drove off he thought, yes, it was good to be alive.

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Two Notes:

First, for those of you who stuck it out to the end, thanks, and any comments, suggestion or ideas are most welcome.

Second, I have rewritten chapter one in the hope of making it more realistic, especially about the rape.