Hampton Manor (26 page)

“Well, Let’s hope that’s soon enough. I’ll keep you informed. Before you go, Adam, I got an odd call from one of the partners at Lawton, Jennings & Barth. He said he was doing some preliminary fact finding into your father’s estate. He wanted to know who handled your father’s defense at the competency hearing. I told him it was Nelson Platt.”

“Why did you tell him anything?”

“It’s called professional courtesy. Anyway, It isn’t confidential, it is a matter of public record, after all.”

“Still, the less information you give out, the better. Let them do the searching.”

“I’m sorry Adam. I should have checked with you first.”

“That’s okay. I guess I’m just extra sensitive on the subject. My father asked to see Platt the other day on another matter. I didn’t see any harm in it, so I let him visit for about fifteen minutes. I had his visit recorded. As far as I could see, there was nothing going on there but a trip down memory lane. Still it is odd that his name comes up again. I wonder if he read something into my father’s behavior. I showed him a file on my father’s last visit with his doctor. It showed remarkable progress from the level of dementia that Platt saw at the time of the competency hearings. Could he have seen that as an opportunity to re-open that can of worms again?”

“That’s always possible. I thought that Platt was retired. Still, it is strange that someone would inquire after all this time. You know you shouldn’t have recorded their meeting without informing at least one of them that you were doing so.”

“Tough shit. I’ll testify that I told my father. Who’s going to prove otherwise. Anyway, Platt wasn’t there for anything official. It was a personal visit.”

“That doesn’t matter. Well, it’s water under the bridge. Just be more careful, please. You’re taking too many chances. Sometimes you’re your own worst enemy. Be sure to clear legal matters with me. Stop being such a loose cannon. You’re going to get yourself into a mess where I’ll be unable to help you.”

Adam could sense the displeasure in the attorney’s voice. “I will, I promise.”

“I’ll make some discrete inquiries about Platt and get back to you.”

“I appreciate that. I’m going to leave here in about an hour. I plan to visit with my father tonight, so anything you find out will be appreciated. Use my cell phone number for the next three hours if you need to.”

“I’ll do that, Adam.”

An hour later Matt called Adam.

“Matt, did you find out anything?”

“I did, but you’re not going to like it. It seems that today is get Adam Hampton day.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well I did a sweep of any open inquiries regarding Hampton Industries or you personally. It seems that your ex-wife has taken out a complaint claiming you willfully sold her personal antique jewelry collection without her permission. I seem to recall that that issue came up during your divorce negotiations.”

“It did, but she made a bigger issue out of the mortgage deed forgery. Once we made our offer, the issue of the jewelry was dropped; or so I thought. Isn’t there a statute of limitations on that kind of thing? It’s been years since that happened.”

“Not where a felony is concerned. This could be very serious.”

“What’s going to happen now?”

“I expect that they’ll issue an Interrogatory. That’s a written list of questions that must be answered and returned by a specified date.”

It got very quiet on Adam’s end, so Matt continued, “Let’s wait until we get the papers. Then I’ll ask that the claim be dismissed on the basis of a verbal agreement between you two. We’ll tie her up legally for as long as we can. If there’s something else behind this move, on her part, there will be time for it to shake out.”

Matt took a deep breath and continued, “There is one more thing. Right now, all I know about this, is a heads-up that I got from a close friend at Terwilliger & Benson.”

“Spit it out! It can’t be any worse than the rest of this shit you’ve been telling me. What is it?”

“Local 33 of SEWU has been in negotiations McKnight Sports, Inc. You apparently made two rather large payments to SEWU while the negations were ongoing. There is a possible violation of the National Labor Relations Act.. That could mean imprisonment and some hefty fines if they get a conviction. Either way there could be some nasty press when it becomes public, It’s hard to contain these things once they start filing legal papers.

“What are you talking about? That’s ridiculous. I made two contributions to Local 33. That was for the best interests of the community. My record of cooperation with labor unions is an open book. Who’s behind these allegations?”

“I don’t know for certain. It’s possible that Daniel McKnight is behind it, but from what I’ve heard he turned ownership of the stadiums over to the city. That would seem to make this a non-issue, but you can never tell with the Feds. That’s as much as my friend was willing to tell me. The whole matter may be dropped before it gets anywhere, so, once again, I suggest we just wait and see.”

“What about Platt? I hope you don’t have more bad news for me.”

“I couldn’t find out anything except he’s setting up an office at his old firm. That’s all I know. I’ll keep my ears open and let you if I hear anything,”

“Damn, what a day. I’m sure glad I have you running interference for me. It’s like I’m swimming around in a pool of sharks. I’m glad I have you watching my back.

“Remember that the next time we sit down to negotiate my retainer.”

Adam chuckled.
Don’t you blood suckers get enough,
he thought;
five hundred thousand a year and special charges.

The pressure was building,
All this and then I have to deal with my father tonight. If I didn’t have to drive, I’d stop and have a drink. I could sure use a Rusty Nail right now.
He looked at his watch,
Only two hours more hours to go.
Time to get home, have supper and spend some time getting my thoughts together. Matt can take care of Marcia, Lauren and McKnight. I’ve got enough to do to take care of the old man and his mysterious bastard son.

Chapter 41

The Assassin checked out of his motel. He drove to a nearby park where he removed the disguise he used since he checked into the motel. He replaced the Pennsylvania license plates with a pair of Maryland plates and headed off to Old Brooking.

A clipboard with a timetable rested on the passenger seat next to three remote handsets, marked “A” , “B” and “C” and his pager.

He looked at his watch. It was 7 p.m., time to get in position at the Water System. He parked at the top of the hill with his car heading in opposite direction. The excitement began to rise as he reached for the first remote. At precisely 7:15 his thumb flipped the safety switch to the right, returned and pressed the button. At first he could only see sparks flying into the air from one of the transformers.
Now for the rest.
Within seconds the entire electrical grid burst into flame and a thunderous explosion rocked the one square block station. The center of the building imploded
from the weight of the pumping equipment and broke the casing around the water main
located directly below. As it did, a geyser of water flumed thirty feet into the air and sprayed water over the rim of the fire extinguishing most of it. Water flowed into the surrounding area as gravity emptied the town’s water towers. The area surrounding the pumping station complex had the lowest elevation in town and the water level in the streets began to rise disproportionate to the sewer drains ability to drain it away. Within minutes the area was under one foot of water and the Old Brooking Water System was
out of operation. The town of Old Brooking, Connecticut was without their water supply.
Perfect execution!

The Assassin smiled as he checked the box next to “A” on his timetable. He started up his car and took a last look in his rear view mirror. He could see people heading toward the perimeter of the manmade lake, a few even wading into the water with their pants rolled up as he used to do as a small boy. The people seemed to be fascinated by the water.
Enjoy it. It will be around for a while, only you’re not going to be able to have water where you really need it; at home.

He checked his watch, 7:20. Time to move on to the warehouse. During the short drive he had to pull over to let an emergency vehicle pass.
Good luck,
fellas, a lot of good you’re going to do.
As he passed a residential area people were at their front doors trying to figure out what caused the loud explosion several minutes earlier. It wouldn’t take them too long to figure it out once they tried to run water in their houses.

It took him only five minutes to arrive at his second observation spot. Again he had a clear view of his target. He picked up the remote marked “B”, followed the same procedure as before and at 7:30,on the dot, the abandoned Parker Brothers Lumber warehouse became an inferno. He knew he could linger awhile and observe how the Old Brooking Fire Department handled the fire without a fresh supply of water.

The “fleet” consisted of only four pumpers, since the one tanker they had suffered major engine problems and the town voted against the funds to replace it. The remaining apparatus was less than two years old. The pumpers were each equipped with thousand gallon tanks.

The Assassin watched as they approached the blaze, amused by the flurry of activity.
They
must
know
by now that the
hydrants
are
dry
.
This will be like taking a leak on a forest fire.
He smiled as he thought,
You guys must be wishing that you had three miles of hose so you could pump water from the new lake in the center of town. I bet your next request for a Fire Department levy will pass overwhelmingly. You don’t have to thank me. Glad to be of help.

The two thousand gallons that the two pumpers carried dissipated quickly as they hosed down the adjacent buildings even though they were vacant; that was the protocol. After that, all they could do was direct traffic and watch as the flames enjoyed the feast of aged wood. The sirens of the remaining two engines could be heard in the distance
You guys should have brought some marshmallows. It’s a crying shame to waste such a nice fire.

He looked at his watch, then back at the firemen doing their thing. He couldn’t help but think,
So much for Old Brookings’s rendition of the “Keystone Firemen”, but I must be off.
The Assassin had a deep respect for police and firemen and all those who put their lives on the line, but this was business.
He checked the “B” box on his timetable.
It’s time for the coup de grace.

On the way to Hampton Manor he encountered more pedestrian and vehicular traffic than he anticipated including a five minute delay for an accident caused by two gawkers more intent on watching the fire than they were driving their cars. One driver paid with his life for this lapse in judgment. There is always the risk of collateral damage with any job; innocent people in the wrong place at the wrong time. It just couldn’t be anticipated or avoided.

Mayhem was the order of the day in the town of Old Brooking.

Chapter 42

Adam arrived home about seven. Milton met him at the door.

“You look as if you’ve had a particularly difficult day, sir” he said as he reached for Adam’s coat and briefcase.

“You can’t even begin to imagine. I’m going to freshen up first and have a drink before dinner. I’ll be in about 7:30. I’ll be in the den until then.”

“That’s fine, sir. Is there anything else I can do?”

“I don’t think so. I know you told me at breakfast what were having tonight, but it slipped my mind.”

“Roast duckling in a plum sauce.”

“I remember now. I’m looking forward to it. Would you do me a favor and remind John that I’m visiting with my father at 8:30 tonight.”

“I’ll take care of that right away, sir.

Adam washed up and went to his den. He made a Rusty Nail and sat back in his recliner. He wasn’t surprised that Bootsy and Flopsy were already playing bookends with his chair. Bootsy was always on the right and Flopsy on the left. He smiled as he thought about how some things never changed. As he got settled he heard the sound of the explosion at the water system and a felt a mild tremor. He looked at the clock; it was 7:15. The dogs started barking and ran out the door towards the kitchen passing Milton on his way to the den.

“What on earth was that noise?”

“I have no idea, sir. It felt like a mild earthquake, but that noise sounded like something exploded. I’ll make a few calls, and let you know.”

“Thanks, Milton,” he said as he returned to his chair and drink”

He returned ten minutes later. “I’m afraid I have some rather bleak news. I spoke with Jim Wesson, the head of the Town Council. He said the pumping station exploded and broke the main water conduit. The water towers drained into the hole. Downtown is about a foot underwater right now. The town is without water and Jim thinks it may take several days to restore service, but, he was just hazarding a guess. He hasn’t spoken to any of the system engineers yet.”

“You better check on the back-up generators in case the flood waters knock out the town’s power. I remember what happened when we had that hurricane.”