Reverse Metamorphosis book one of the Irrevocable Change trilogy (31 page)

At the end of January an office and warehouse
combo came on the market in the upscale Elmhurst area, on the West
side of Chicago. His agent had been searching the listings for
almost three months and it was the first location he had seriously
considered. The property was an older brick structure and had
initially started out as just a warehouse. Later, a single story
addition had been built onto the front for a retail business. The
building was much larger than Clay actually thought he needed, but
he greatly appreciated the layout and the location. Not having
enough money to purchase the building outright, Clay called on Tony
for help with financing. Tony was a majority shareholder in a small
legitimate savings and loan business. He was instrumental in
getting Clay a mortgage with only five per cent down and at a whole
percentage point below the prevailing rate.

Before the deal had even closed Clay hired an
interior designer to assist with selecting the colors to be used,
and the procurement of additional decorating accessories. Another
role she assumed was coordination of the remodeling effort. Since
the building was empty the closing could be expedited to as soon as
the title search was completed; and Tony leaned on the title search
company he owned to get it done.

She suggested flat black paint on the twenty
one foot high ceilings, along with several contrasting wall shades
in various areas. The showroom was large enough to exhibit
different moods and periods, and she took advantage of the abundant
space. The designer also had working ties to a lighting designer
who suggested scrapping the original hanging industrial lights to
install numerous small high intensity lights; they could be quickly
and easily directed to specific locations for accent lighting as
well as general illumination. However, his lead designer rejected
scrapping the industrial lighting, and instead suggested using both
systems to complement each other.

Finally, after a month of intense work, the
shop was ready to open the first week of March 1974. The shops name
had been painted on the plate glass windows on each side of the
front entrance;
Clayton & Associates
was spelled out in
fancy multi colored script, filling both windows and large enough
to be visible from the busy street. The antiques in storage were
moved to the newly remodeled store for the grand opening. Clay’s
family and friends couldn’t believe he was starting a business,
especially to “buy and sell used furniture”, as several of them
stated it.

Margaret was now his primary supporter,
saying “I’m sure what ever he chooses to do, he’ll do well.” Since
she only dealt with the fact her son was starting his own business
and never mentioned her opinion of its real chance for success, her
pandering didn’t cause much of an impact with anyone, including
Clay. He understood how and why his family felt the way they did.
Hell, he wasn't positive the business would ever pay for itself;
but then, only he knew it wasn’t a requirement.

Walter was more skeptical, “Looks to me like
you could find a business where there’s a real need, like a grocery
store, gas station or a barber shop. Sell some product or service
people need on a regular basis. Even if customers will buy this old
stuff, how much of it can one family use; and will they buy this
over groceries when times get rough?”

Lizzy thought the whole idea was intriguing
and said to Margaret several times, “Mom, I can’t believe it. My
brother has his own business.
Clayton and Associates
. This
is so neat. I’m so proud of him.”

Finding good help had been the hardest task
of the whole endeavor. His mother had suggested several women she
knew who might be willing to work part time, but he wanted to stay
away from family ties of any sort to his business. He had placed
ads in the newspaper and interviewed over eighty applicants before
settling on seven who might work out for both full time and part
time clerks. The most important requirements were for them to be
honest and dependable; and for them to be totally unattractive to
him. One thing he didn’t need was to start having affairs with his
clerks and end up loosing good help, or having a messy and costly
separation.

He had located a delivery service which, if
the usage amounted to enough business for them, would give a hefty
discount for transporting items to the store and to customer’s
homes.

The number of people he barely knew who had
braved the cold twenty five mile an hour winds on opening day to
offer support amazed him. A lot of his friends from the bar had
come to the opening too; Tony with Anna; Joey and his wife and
quite a few others. Dan and some of the assistants from the club
had stopped in also. He was impressed at how many items had been
sold during the opening and knew he would be spending all of his
free time on purchasing new stock.

He had responded to Tony’s summons once while
setting up the antique business, leaving for a week on a job
assignment. The windfall had been unexpected, but very welcome, as
it provided extra cash to let the designer incorporate some
additional features he originally didn’t feel he could afford.

O
n the third
Wednesday in May Clay took a call at the shop on his private line
from Mickey, asking him to stop by the bar as soon as he had time.
Since it was just after one he decided to drive over to the bar for
lunch.

As soon as he got into the main room of the
bar and got a beer and a sandwich from Mickey, Tony motioned for
him to follow and headed upstairs.

Once they were in the office with the door
closed Tony laid out the reason for the summons. “There’s a problem
in New York City people want addressed. You might have read about
it or heard on TV, a lieutenant from one of the families there was
in a shoot out with a bunch of cops, killed two of them and then
got shot and caught before he could get away. In exchange for
escaping the death penalty and getting into the witness protection
program he’s agreed to testify against his bosses. The top of the
family structures of at least two, and possibly three of the most
powerful families in the state are at risk. Needless to say, they
want the bastard taken out.” Clay had followed the story in the
national news and motioned for Tony to continue.

“There are three problems. One is they’ve
expedited the trial process and have already started jury
selection. They expect it to finish up next week and then the
opening statements will be heard. They want the guy hit before the
lawyers start making those opening statements. You've got ten days
max.”

“Then there’s problem number two; the big
one. The Feds are running the show. They’ve taken over the entire
top two floors of a fourteen story motel and have the guy hid out
there. They move him to a different room on the top floor daily.
Rumor has it sometimes he moves twice a day. Nobody gets access to
those two floors except federal agents. They have a small army of
agents around the clock and they even prepare all of his food and
carry it to him from the kitchen. Even the legitimate registered
guests are screened before they can stay in rooms on the other
twelve floors. The drapes on all of the windows on both floors are
kept closed twenty four hours a day, and there’s no other tall
building close enough to hit him from, even if you could see him,
which you can’t. You can’t get to the roof, and window cleaning has
been suspended. Short of blowing up the whole damn building and
killing hundreds of people, I don’t see how this guy can be hit
while he's in the motel.”

Clay sat silently thinking, and then said to
Tony, “Are they certain the target is even in there?”

“Yeah, they’ve enlisted several of the staff
and cleaning people and are positive the guy is still being held
there.”

Tony continued with his original summation,
“And problem number three. They’ve selected three hitters to get
this bastard because of the time constraint, and who ever gets to
the guy first gets the fee. The problem is one or two of them could
get killed if they get in the way of the better hitter. And, if one
of the three is found dead, seen in the area or caught, the Feds
will move the guy in a heart beat."

Clay sat quietly thinking for several minutes
and then asked, “What’s it worth?”

“You ain’t gonna believe this; the fee is
three hundred thousand; a hundred grand from each family.”

“Damn, a hundred grand is a lot, even for an
impossible job.”

“Then, you’re not going to attempt it? Good,
declining is the sensible thing to do.”

“I didn't say I wouldn't do it Tony. The job
sounds very difficult, but challenging. The families involved are
only putting up big money because THEY think it’s impossible. Did
they send a package?”

“Kid, this is big league. Are you sure you’re
ready for this? You won’t just be going up against the Feds. Two of
the top hitters in the country will be watching for you also. And
for this much money they’d whack their own mothers.”

“Tony I’m ready for it. I’ll think of some
way to get to this guy. Where’s the package?”

“It came this morning: I put it in my desk.
There ain’t much.”

“I need a ham sandwich and another beer. I’ll
be right back. You want a beer?”

After Tony had gone back downstairs Clay
removed the information from the envelope and read while he ate.
There were three items. Dominick Michael Trezzini, age 52 was
written at the bottom of a 5” x 7” black and white photograph.
Next, he read a single typed page with most of the same information
Tony had told him earlier. The third item was a New York City map
with a red circle showing the location of the Allegheny Inn in the
borough of Yonkers, on the north side of the city. Before leaving
the bar he asked Tony to make a couple of calls to line up
equipment he might possibly need. Then he asked Tony to call his
contact in New York City and request two legitimate cars to be at
his disposal once he got to the city. And he wanted to know how
long the Feds had been holding the snitch at the hotel.

After supper and a trip back by the bar for
the items he had requested, he was on the road driving in the dark
to Tony’s farm. He had told his mother he was going to roam the
area between Illinois and Pennsylvania for a couple of weeks to buy
antiques for the shop. Walter again reminded him he thought a
twenty five year old man should have a steady and permanent job,
instead of trying to peddle junk furniture. He knew his step father
meant well and was justified in his way of thinking, but he’d had
enough lecturing and replied louder and harsher than probably was
necessary.

At the farm he spent the next morning putting
targets in a field across the river from a fifty foot high bluff on
Tony’s property. He had set a makeshift flag by the targets to gage
wind speed and direction. Using the techniques he had been taught
he set about adjusting the scope for approximately a eight hundred
yard distance. After thirty five shots with the Military XM21
sniper rifle he felt he was ready and left the ART 3X-9X adjustable
range setting scope where he finished. Before dark he was on his
way to New York City.

On Thursday June 6, 1974 Clay arrived in New
York City for the first time in his life. He had taken highway 80
all the way from Chicago and got on route 95 just before crossing
the George Washington Bridge into New York. Past the bridge he
watched for highway 87 north and took it all the way to Yonkers,
getting off at Memorial.

Before looking for a motel he searched for
and located the Allegheny Inn. Sure enough, the tallest structure
within at least a mile was a six story building being constructed
on a corner across the street north and west of the motel. The
framework was up, the exterior skin had been installed and the
doors and windows were almost completely set in place. It appeared,
as he drove by, work to finish the interior was in progress.

Clay drove back the way he had come to an
area he had passed through earlier, about a mile and a half from
the Allegheny Inn, where he had seen motels of several medium
priced nationally advertised chains. Selecting one, he checked in,
found a place to eat, went back to his room, and fell asleep.

Day One - Friday

The long drive had worn him out so he didn’t
get out of bed until eight the next morning. The entire day was
spent driving all the streets within a half mile radius of the
Allegheny Inn. He kept a notebook of promising sites he saw for
further consideration and checking out. While driving around the
area, he located the used car lot for which Tony had given him the
address and phone number. After a late supper he drove around the
Allegheny, parked three blocks away and watched the lights in the
building until after midnight.

Day Two - Saturday

The next morning he was up at six for a jog
around the A. I., as he had taken to thinking of the Allegheny Inn.
He would jog for a short distance and then find a place to sit and
watch the area while massaging a thigh or calf muscle. By taking
his time and watching carefully he spotted six people standing in
front of stores on the street, sitting in restaurants not eating,
and in a car and a truck just sitting there. After two and a half
hours he went back to his car and drove to a park on a small hill
ten blocks from the A.I. Sitting in the driver’s seat he had
positioned the car so he could look through the passenger side
window and see the top of the motel. With a pair of army surplus
binoculars he could clearly see two men moving around the top of
the building. Each had binoculars and a radio, or one of the new
portable telephones he had heard about. He prayed his assumption
was correct and staying on the opposite side of the car in the
shadows, they should not be able to see him watching them. The fact
sheet he had received about the job was right. There was indeed a
small army of guards assigned to protect Trezzini. There surely are
at least two guards in the room at all times with him plus another
one or two out in the hallway he thought. They must open two
connecting units at a time so Trezzini can sleep while the guards
talk or watch TV or do something to pass the time.