Gynophagia Chronicles: Samantha
Monday, September 21, 2218 5:30 am
1120 Alsatian St. San Ramon, CA
Narative Reconstructed by Peter Howard
The predawn chill was comforting to Gianni. He prided himself on not needing much sleep, but the since Wednesday he had slept perhaps eight hours total, and his body and mind were exhausted. He sat in the spy tower at the now vacant former home of Mr. Amaral. The tower was a suitable place for him to conduct what business he needed to do. The neighbourhood was quiet, with mostly older men in the last stages of life, and since many still had jobs, it was easy for Gianni to slip in and out unobserved.
He had spent the last two of the last four mornings watching the Wells girls go off to school and to brunch in the park Saturday, to Church on Sunday. He risked walking past them as they made their way there, which was not very smart, he knew. The bugs he had personally placed in the Wells home, with several tiny cameras were a source of obsession for Gianni, and a large part of why he was not getting much sleep. He'd watch them. All of them. He compared them. Patricia and Michelle were the two odd girls out. Celine looked like an elfin version of Samantha, and what was the deal with Jimmy? He could have almost been Samantha's identical twin, were he not male. And Samantha's mother, Jessica, was an older, sapphire eyed version of Samantha herself. Was Samantha the clone? She must be.
Powerful emotions are the enemy, he reminded himself of the one of the Professor's rules. Rule 10. It was the second time in a week he'd had to remind himself of it. It wasn't working. Soon, he'd have everything wired so he could monitor the Wells from his Santa Cruz apartment. But he was dawdling. Being that far away was distasteful to him.
Over the past week, he had managed to confirm that Abe Golding had funneled the Wells lead to Johnny, which in turn went to Carmine and from him to the Professor. Eight Eves in one household. Why? What the hell for? The prospect, imagined Gianni, was apocalyptic.
It was all Gianni could do to focus on the other tasks at hand. The first was to give Johnny a good script to pitch to his clients. Garvey was be key to that. The details that Michael Gianni would feed Johnny that would save Johnny and save Samantha's life from Johnny's actions.
Johnny's pitch was relatively simple. Let the lesbians go, and dig for dirtier skeletons, ones that truly make people look bad.
Garvey's plot to steal his daughters and granddaughters out of the country would not be taken very well by his California constituents. They'd want blood for it. His grandsons might very well be culled. And the scandal was not something Garvey was alone in. But if the organizations that controlled those assets in Congress and the State Legislators did their work properly, they'd be able not only to protect those politicians who were under their control, but gain even more power by offering protection to those who were not.
Word from Johnny was that he had better come up with something very soon or he would not be able to control his clients actions.
It was from here that he hacked into the campaign of Dillon Kramer, Senator Garvey's hand picked successor. Kramer had been Garvey's chief of staff for three years before becoming Congressman Kramer of the 15th District of California. It was a district that included most of the south eastern side of the San Francisco Bay. Fremont, Hayward, Milpitas, Union City and Newark were all mostly in Kramer's district. Polls showed Kramer with a commanding lead over Marcus Jackson. When the scandal broke, that would change, and Jackson's star would rise. He would go to the Senate and Lesbians could come out of the closet.
Nailing Garvey and gaining control over Kramer would require timing. Kramer was in up to his neck in the Garvey scandal. If Kramer fell prey to the Garvey Scandal, it would put Gianni's plan in jeopardy. But Kramer could be protected if it were made clear him that cooperation meant survival. It was interesting how he was not yet on Carmine DeSilva's phone list. Johnny would get credit for that, of course, and he would be the point man to secure Kramer's friendship.
Timing was everything.
Johnny would have to be ready, and to be ready, Gianni would have to set up the pieces. The first order of business was to hack into the local Kramer campaign office. That took most of Wednesday night. This was not a terribly risky affair, but then, risks are risks, so Gianni secured the best hacker he could. The sole purpose was to get the list of recruitable interns, and put Elizabeth Lynch's name very near the top. The Danville based office was not a terribly active one for campaigning, but for fund raising it was key. Many of Kramer's wealthiest supporters lived in Danville and Blackhawk. It was important enough for Kramer's chief of staff to have resigned to run it. Cindy Livingston was also Kramer's sister in law and concubine. Part of his inner circle. That meant that Cindy would be exchanging emails with Kramer, and one little mistake and some little piece of damning information would end up in the wrong hands... such as something to do with Garvey... Lynch would be informed of her internship this morning. Perhaps already had been.
Putting Samantha on the scent would be simple as a chance meeting... that would come soon enough. Planning it would be a sweet agony.
The Monday morning paper began arriving on porches as the sun began to clear the horizon, and Gianni climbed down from the tower to retrieve it. The Wells clan were never up before quarter past six during the week anyway. That, and the un-intellegeable banter between the girls made listening intollerable. He also did not want to be observed, so now was the time to get it.
What was bothering Gianni was not so much the cryptic conversation between Jessica and Matthew wells in their bedroom on Saturday night. They spoke about getting a hot tub for a good half hour as they had sex. But in the aftermath, Samantha's name came up. It was nothing Gianni could truly get his mind around. There was an article Samantha had written and talk of PEG Wire. What the hell was PEG Wire? All his attempts at Google had given him no references at all. But that was not what truly bothered Gianni. What bothered Gianni was that Samantha's voice had not been raised at all! She was there! She was studying a lot. She looked sullen and listless. But she was not her usual engaging self and she was being left alone. What had happened?
The only conversation Samantha had all weekend was a short one with her eldest brother Eric. In it she spoke of her interview with Jakim Golguli about an upcoming one with Indian President Naoroji-Rao. What the hell? Getting the Golguli interview was in and of itself something of a coup for any reporter, let alone a fifteen year old high school student. But interviewing the president of a major economic power? She couldn't be serious. And for PEG Wire... whatever the hell that was!
Gianni had never felt this frustrated before. He opened his laptop and tried searching again.
“PEG Wire” he typed in.
This time, instead of no hits, as had happened over the last several hours, he had fifteen. Fifteen! Each of them was link to a newspaper. The NY Times, Los Angeles Examiner, Miami Herald, Washington Post, and... the Amador Herald? He clicked on the link to the New York Times.
“Kitchen Brutality in San Ramon High School” was the headline.
Gianni grabbed the newspaper and opened it. Front page, above the fold in huge bold letters was the very same headline. Byline was PEG Wire Staff Writer: Samantha Marie Wells.
Gianni devoured the account by Samantha of what happened to Patricia Bauer and Sloan Harding at the hands of immigrant union cafeteria workers. It was a damning piece, and anyone who read it would know it.
But one word stuck out like a sore thumb: “Union.”
Union meant organized crime. Which union and which organization controlled that union? Christ: Johnny is...
Gianni's phone buzzed. Caller ID showed him it was Johnny DeSilva.
“You're up early,” Gianni croaked, his voice gone from exhaustion.
“I'm reading the paper. Two of my clients got me out of bed an hour ago with this crap. What the fuck, Michael! What the fuck!”
“Hey, what do you want from me?”
“Look, your little girlfriend is popping up everywhere. I'm not going to be able to control them if she keeps this crap up.”
“And what crap is that?”
“She's all but blaming this on union labour, Mike! And you know as well as I do that you do NOT go after the unions and live to tell about it. That's a major source or revenue for my clients.”
“Which outfit controls that particular union?”
“Oh no, not going there. I will tell you that it's not just one, but you won't get any particulars out of me. Not now. And they all want her dead, dead, dead! You hear? The Professor be damned.”
“Alright, Johnny. You tell your clients that I'll put a hit on any family that comes after her, and I'll make sure their sons are sent to a Canadian farm op.”
“Not gonna fly. You better come up with something good right away. The shit is hitting the fan.”
“War is bad for business, Johnny. This could cripple you if you go there. Things will fall apart for you pretty quickly. And you know who supplies you with the majority of your information. Your clients need to understand that.”
“Alright,” Johnny said. “I'll call a meeting. You can tell them that yourself face to face.”
“When?”
“Soon. Be ready, it will be soon.”
The connection clicked off. Damn, he'd better come up with something concrete... soon could be next week, this week or even today... too damn soon.
“Damn it!” Michael cursed. He did the only thing he knew to do. He dialed the professor's private number.
“It is about time you called,” the professor answered.
Calmly, methodically, Gianni reported the facts as they stood. He left out only his infatuation with Samantha. That was the unspoken truth that hung over his head like a sharp ax.
“Your little girlfriend certainly is doing a fine job of shaking the trees that need shaking,” the professor's smile was audible over the phone. “Are you sure she doesn't work for us?”
Gianni was having a dificult time understanding where the Professor was coming from at the moment.
“I would have thought we'd want to wait on angering the unions,” Gianni said.
“Union re-organization is of no consequence. It just needs to be done. You said your operative is in place in the Kramer office?”
“She should be this morning,” Gianni assured.
“Good I want you to make very sure that Mr. Jackson has every incentive to proceed with his bill immediately. If it goes to the house floor before October first, I will be very proud of you. But it needs to be interoduced. How do you think he will react to a threat?”
“Hard to say. At this point, I think he has more spine than he did.”
“Good. Very good. Any progress on getting a subject from your girlfriend's family?”
“No, sorry sir. That's not happening so far.”
“Very well. Perhaps we can settle for some eggs if we can at least get one of them under a doctor's care. Hmmm... maybe we can use Golding for that. Let me think on it. Perhaps we can get Tucker-Kline to do it for us. The mafiosi need to be thwarted in that event. Meaning, you'll need to get your girlfriend's clan protection. Good protection. Come up with a plan for that.”
“Yes sir,” Gianni said.
“Are you still in that house?”
“Yes sir.”
“I want you out of there as well. Find someone to put in it that won't be asking questions. I don't like it that you are haunting that neighbourhood. It's dangerous.”
“Yes sir,” Gianni said.
“I'll leave you to it. Do not worry, Lance. I hear the nervousness in your voice timber. Things are moving along quite well and unfolding much better than expected.”
“I hope so, sir.”
“Remember rule number nine.”
“Never doubt the professor.”
“Good boy,” the connection went dead.
Samantha, what have you done to me?