The Dancer and the DA’s Wild Night at the Cemetery
No one knew exactly who was buried at the Chalmorr’s Crypt at the abandoned Southern Oak Tree Hill Cemetery. When the city had closed the place, over thirty years ago, and had removed all of the caskets buried there nobody could find any paper trail that could identify any relative of B.E. Chalmorr in town. A more accurate investigation didn’t found any evidence that any Chalmorr, Calmorr or Chalmor had lived in the town as a matter of fact. Somewhere in the early 1920’s (when he or she supposedly had died) someone had the Gothic structure built up and buried someone in it, and someone very much alive did his/her best to keep the place firm and steady all those years.
Curiously, the large and unused place didn’t become a point for drug addicts to meet and get high. Stories on the streets was that B.E. Chalmorr him/herself took care of any idiot who dared to desecrate his burial ground, a local urban legend that everybody at Town Hall was quick to dismiss, and every cop and dealer in the streets could testify its accuracy or had a story about it. So no one got close to the Chalmorr’s Crypt, even in broad daylight.
The perfect place in town to hide her.
She had tried to warn the DA about the scam she was part of and they had found it. They had not killed her because the DA’s deeply passion for her was well known by them, and they were planning to use her as final bait in a deadly trap for both.
They had videos of them in bed (and in other places where they had have sex), they had videos of her giving lap dances (and something more) to the DA at the ‘Broken Code’, and they knew what they wanted that the DA had to do for them; to give them the evidence the FBI had against Giancarlo Malfredi. But their mole in the DA’s inner circle had sworn that the city’s rising star would not bend to their will with just a treat of public exposure and humiliation. So when Mugs found her trying to send a text message to the DA she was bound in a stringent hogtie (her fingers touched the sole of her feet), gagged and taken out of the ‘Broken Code’ inside a large sports bag, instead of receiving a bullet in the head.
Now she was there, inside the crypt, with nothing to cover her luscious young body but a silver G-string bikini bottom and two small discs over her nipples, and the ropes and tape of course. They had called it a ‘kneeling frogtie’. Her elbows were the closest they had ever been, and a medium length piece of rope ties each wrists to the ropes keeping her ankles and thighs tied together, more rope here and there to further lock her arms behind her back, keep her ankles crossed (and tie the high heeled shoes to her feet) and enhance her already big attributes, had been applied by two of the men while the only woman made sure that she wouldn’t be able to make any sound, as if there was anybody around her that could hear her and would try at least to help her. But there was one thing that she couldn’t understand.
Where was that crooked cop, Lt. Harvey?
Instead of being the guardian angel of the DA, and one of the few cops in town that the FBI had plenty of trust in, he was the mole of the Malfredi Family! The ‘birthday surprise’ (she gave the DA a lap dance in the wee hours at the DA’s house) that he had used to introduce her to the DA was actually the start of the plan that would, if it beard fruits, discredit the DA and set Enrico Malfredi’s pride free of jail! And he had been the one that, while given her a slap or two and bark to her to ‘quiet down’, had received direct orders from Enrico (the secret owner of the ‘Broken Code’) to ‘take her somewhere and keep her there!’.
So the Lt. slapped her a few more times, shoved her in his car’s trunk and drove her there.
Or did he?
At some point of the trip he stopped somewhere, and then when the car returned to the streets she realized that he, if it was really him, wasn’t alone in the car anymore. Four big and leather covered hands grabbed her and brought her to the crypt, none of them was Harvey’s. The bitch who had shoved a sponge inside her mouth and tied that big red ball in front of it (and past her teeth) was definitely not Harvey’s second-in-command Rose.
None of them spoke to her, made treats or anything. They had a bound and gagged blonde stripper not five feet away from her and no one was giving her a menacing glance. They were ignoring her completely! Not she really wanted their attention... but this was very creepy, and the place where the quartet was right now only added more fright to her mind.
All three... guardians? ...captors? ...thugs? were completely covered in black. She could see that all wore bulletproof vests under their T-shirts and were heavily armed. Two giants that could easily find a job in NFL (although she couldn’t even begin to determine their skin colors or anything else) and a girl who was as buxom and leggy as herself.
Who were they?
There was a knock at the door of the crypt. ‘S.O.S.’. Without giving up any ounce of attention or readiness, the three stood up and said ‘come in’. Another full black clad and ready for action couple entered the crypt, and the DA was right behind them.
Laura Ng Coy didn’t even wait for her allies to explain or say anything. She ran to the bare mattress where her love was being held and quickly covered her dumbfounded face with kisses and caresses. ‘It’s alright’ and ‘Everything’s gonna be fine’ seemed to be the only phrases that she knew as she kept repeating them over and over. Then she tried to remove the gag from Faith. She was almost completely airborne in the next second.
The tall and strong... woman? ...man? that held her off the marbled floor in his/her massive arms (and gagged her with a huge paw) was more annoyed than anything else.
‘We told you to not interfere, didn’t we?’
The voice was strong, firm and surprisingly female. Laura nodded.
‘She’s alright. She’s innocent, completely, of any wrongdoing against you. And you know what to do know, don’t you, miss District Attorney Laura Coy?’
The very petite Vietnamese/American woman somehow managed to nod. She was put back on the floor at the same time that the pair of other black clad women approached. As one of them helped the DA to undress, the other gagged her the same way that Faith had been.
His contact at the marina swore that Harvey hadn’t arrived yet. Where was that idiot? He had left over three hours ago!!! And there was that breaking and entering at the ‘Broken Code’! On top of it all, where was that accursed DA lady??!!!
The two guys that were supposed to follow her everywhere that night had been found in an alley thirty minutes ago, beaten and unconscious and stripped completely of their clothes. She had disappeared in thin air in the middle of the town. Her car had been discovered with a couple of bullet holes in a street in the industrial area of the town, and now she was the subject of what was the biggest search the town had ever seen.
As if it wasn’t enough bad news, someone had invaded his secret office at the top dollar strip club and bound the ‘owner’ (a former stripper that was just another of his many eyes and ears in HIS town) and two of her girls, then he/she (they had been gassed when a modified gas grenade was thrown in the ‘owner’’s office and fell asleep in seconds so they had not witnessed anything) opened the hidden door at one of the walls, invaded HIS office and stole all the records that he had gathered to blackmail and ruin that Viet!
He couldn’t even think that Betsy (the ‘owner’ of the ‘Broken Code’) or any of the girls had actually stole it because the hidden camera (the only part of the secret security system of his secret office – and the whole ‘Broken Code’ building – that had managed to work during the B&E) recorded three black clad men breaking into Betsy’s office while she and the two nearly naked babes were splattered on the floor. One of the guys proceeded to tie up and gag with pre-cuts strips of cloth the unconscious women and the others went to find and open the hidden door. They were out of there in less than four minutes!
With his data!
Then he heard a beep. Someone had just sent a message with an attached file to him, to his private and secret line. It was Harvey, or at least it was Harvey’s secret number (he sometimes joked to himself about how many ‘secret’ he had around him), the one he had used to send to him the images of the death of that DEA agent. Now the images that he saw were at the same time enjoyable, made his blood boil and put him on full alert!
The petite DA woman and the stripper with whom she had fallen in love were on their belly in what looked like a bare mattress. Both were naked and overly bound into one of those fetishistic positions that demanded a lot of rope, and were lying side by side. They both had a red ball shaped gag jammed into their mouths and kept there by black leather straps that were buckled tight, and were drooling. Humiliating for them and very enjoyable for him.
The camera then shifted and showed the women’s back, there was a large light cardboard taped to the stripper’s back above the ropes. ‘The DEA knows about me’, ‘I want US$ 2 millions in small bills or I will set them free’, ‘You have until 03:00 AM or else!’. It was written in block letters, so he couldn’t say if it was really Harvey that was behind it.
But someone was suicidal enough to blackmail HIM...
Exactly one week before the trial that could send his only son (why did God have given him only one full red blooded, strong as an ox and man-about-town son and four useless women?) to the Death Row, he was being attacked by a very prepared and determined group. Perhaps the ‘Stray Cats’, like Harvey like to call his boys and girls?
Twenty one minutes later he had the confirmation. No one of the selected and crooked group of cops has been seen anywhere in town for the past six hours!
Harvey Finn, one of the few men that could hurt him if he opened his mouth... what could the have against him to turn him into such stupid idiot? It didn’t mattered... he wasn’t going to outlive the night; even if it hurt badly the well planned strategy he had developed to have Giancarlo back home by his mother’s birthday...
‘Are you sure that it WILL work the way you say that it might?’
‘It will, Ma’am. The drug erases memories and leaves a false chemical trail in their blood. They will awake without many memories of the past three days, in Federal custody and ready to believe that Harvey betrayed them since the last thing that they will remember, thanks to our ‘help’, is that they all gathered together in the back room of the ‘Vinnie’s’ last night, when they were supposed to receive the last parts of Malfredi’s plans for Laura and the stripper, afterwards it’ll be total blank for them and they’ll be very suggestible to our framing up on Harvey. It’s not the first time we use this drug, Ma’am...’
‘Both the legal and illegal ones are being cleared as we speak, our hacker is using Harvey’s computer in his second home, the one he keeps for his secret meeting with that lady who owns a pet shop on Bentley Ave.. Our team reports that she was subdued and is ready to be taken to… wherever you want her to go since I don’t know where it is…’
‘And if you don’t want to find out very closely I suggest that you stop asking that…’
‘(Gulp…)… Er…, anyway. To everybody it’ll be like she ran out of town with him. The safes of those who have one, of this group in front and around us, had been already opened by our two teams, including the one at the Bullford Bank with all the blackmail material collected by Harvey himself and kept under the guard of Sgt. Rose safe deposit box there.’
Kathleen Talbot looked around. She knew that some of the operations of the Uncanny Friendship were huge; she didn’t expect them to be THAT huge though.
A recently foreclosed furniture shop turned into a provisory detention facility, thirteen of the most crooked cops that she had ever heard of strapped to lounge chair and mattresses, receiving drugs that will erase all the events that lead to their capture, and the capture itself, and all the others crazy events that where happening tonight.
Three bank robberies, seventeen kidnappings, how many B&Es?, and so on… She really missed her small town... but she was the local head of the UF now, and it came with many obligations besides the obvious benefits, she couldn’t never ever thank the Operations branch enough for having saved her girls last month…
The action at the cemetery was about to start…
Donnie Darmino was one of the very few men in which Malfredi had complete trust.
When the e-mail arrived stating the place where that ******** was expecting to exchange the DA and the stripper for his money, Malfredi had almost everything ready to kill both women and Harvey and make it look like the DA had paid Harvey to get rid of her lesbian blackmailing lover, and Harvey got greedy. How he was going to deal with the Stray Cats was another matter, but they all wouldn’t live long enough…
And Donnie was in the same car that Malfredi was and went to check on the women first thing first when they arrived at the cemetery. He picked about four guys and entered the cemetery by the Southern entry. What a creepy place!
There was a woman, unmistakably that bimbo from the jewelry store on the Prince Ave. whom Perkins of the 2nd precinct called when he needed a luscious bait for a trap of the Stray Cats, dressed in a skintight black suit from head to toe. Nice pair, but Malfredi had ordered that all would die, a pity… she led him and the guys straight to the famous Chalmorr’s Crypt, whose door was opened. And inside it…
The lesbian couple had their bonds changed; now they were sitting cross-legged and back to back, with only rope and tape to cover their naked bodies. The difference of height between the two women had been mitigated with a cushion, but while Faith’s bonds that kept her wrists crossed under Laura’s breasts could be easily seen, Laura’s hands had disappeared under the massive and large pair of Faith. Both were obviously scared and were making those funny mewling sounds… they hadn’t been properly gagged.
‘They’re around me, aren’t they?’
In response the woman in black raised her right arm, and several red dots appeared in Donnie and the thugs’ bodies. He counted at least ten. the whole gang was here?
‘Hey Howie, HOWIE!, …go back to the cars and tell Mr. Malfredi that they’re here, it’s them and everything else. Tell him to give you the money…’
After Malfredi had paid all the bills of Donnie’s mother and sisters treatments, twenty years ago, there was nothing that Donnie wouldn’t do for him. Like dying for instance. Malfredi would never ever pay a nickel of blackmail money! Those who had tried it were all dead now, none buried in a proper place and most of them would have needed (if Malfredi had allowed them to get a funeral) a closed casket. What Howie was going to do was to simply divert the attraction of all of the shooters that were hiding in the cemetery; three groups of Malfredi’s men (all heavily armed) were inside the cemetery premises as of now.
Before he reached any gate of the cemetery, the shooting would start. Donnie’s orders were simple, run inside the Chalmorr’s Crypt (whom anyone with a brain could deduce as the only place where the DA and the stripper could be being held) and shoot the ladies dead.
Then Maxwell, one of the two remaining thugs with him, was shot in the left leg, and a weird symphony was heard coming from all over the cemetery. Shots of various calibers… and explosions? They were using grenades? He had to obey Mr. Malfredi’s orders!!!
The bimbo was running to inside the crypt, Donnie gave chase. The DA was positioned with her back to the door of the crypt, the stripper was facing it, a single shot from the entrance would kill them both, but he wasn’t going to shot only once…
He had his trusty .45 in each hand when he jumped behind a tombstone to avoid the shots someone was giving at him from the left, he shot back a couple of rounds and crawled to the crypt’s entrance and he rolled to inside it, stood up already aiming his guns at…
No bimbo in black, no stripper and no DA. There was the mattress with the cushion, some rope splattered over it and that was it. Now where were those three?
Donnie would never have an answer to his doubts, for he died in the next moment when the crypt exploded sky high. If there were already a group of cops en route to the cemetery due to the reports of a shooting, the explosion attracted every reporter, fireman and curious people in town to the neighborhood of the closed cemetery…
They felt the explosion, but whoever had built that tunnel had done a great job.
Faith and Laura were being led by leashes tied around their waists, the last thing they remembered to see was the tomb of B.E. Chalmorr open wide open and two men came from inside it, they blindfolded them, undid most of their bonds, threw them over each guy’s right shoulder (without using the opportunity to cope a feel of the women’s behind) and obviously had returned to the tomb itself, which was just the ending of a spiral stairway that started in a big and large tunnel at about forty feet under the ground.
As soon as it was possible, the men put them back on their feet, tied a rope around each woman’s waist and gave it to the scared clerk (and Perkins’ former fiancée)’s hands. She had followed them into the tunnel, and had been allowed to remove the hood that covered her head completely but not the black electrician tape over her lips. They wrapped a few turns of the tape crisscrossing her wrists behind her back thus began the convoy. One of the men in front, the captive clerk leading the two captives and the other man in the back.
They walked a good mile, the explosion happened when they were at about the middle of the tunnel and scared all the women (who had to be reassured by one of the men that everything was going as the plan dictated after being held in their strong arms for a couple of minutes), before they reached a wooden staircase. There the brunette clerk was tape blindfolded like the other women; one of the men walked the stairs and knocked at a door.
Four minutes later the three women were writhing on a mattress inside a van, all had been loosely hogtied, and were going to a motel in the outskirts of town.
Fifty-two minutes later an anonymous tip sent an FBI SWAT team to the motel…
The reporter was standing at the left of the luminous sign of the ‘Baker’s Motel’, a ‘do-not-cross’ line could be seen behind her and a great number of people with ‘FBI’ written in the back of their shirts could be seen all over. She was a reporter giving the latest news…
‘And it was in this place, more accurately in the room nº 8, that Laura Ng Coy, the famous District Attorney whose work has been so praised by so many members of our community, was found a couple of hours ago. It’s now official; she was kidnapped by the Lt. Harvey Finn somewhere around 09:30/10:00 PM. The police department says that this woman…’
‘Hey look… you’re on TV…’
She couldn’t care less now. She was so tired of being scared, she had been scared ever since she realized what had happened to those guys she had lured to ‘Joe & Son Auto Repair Shop’, what Willy and the others had done to them. So scared that she had gladly accepted to help those people to bring Willy, Finn and all the others down.
But how they had paid her for her help? Treats, ropes and tape or scarves to gag her. Like she was now. They were in a house, a big house somewhere in the suburb, to which they had brought her after she made all the little theater they had told her to do.
‘After making sure that the DA was not going anywhere, she had a bath and apparently tried to change her looks, dying her hair and cutting it...’
Now, as they had expected, the police believed that she had taken the DA to that motel room, had a shower and confessed Willy, Rose, Mickey and especially Finn’s participation in those DEA agents deaths to a naked and overly bound DA. Then she had taken a shower, placed a blindfold on the DA, had changed her hair color and cut it afterward, then she had put on some clothes and left to unknown places…
‘A full blockade on all the highways, back roads and trails is being implemented as...’
The old lady shut down the TV and finished the last touches on her bondage.
What had really happened was that she had left her DNA and fingerprints everywhere they had told her to, she had bound the petite DA with her bare hands to do so for instance, then they had bound her, thrown her inside a trunk and drove her there. Then this 60-something years old lady had mummified her with rope and tape and there she was…
‘Why are you crying? Do you think that we are going back on our word? Don’t worry… you will have a new identity, new past and everything, plus the money that we promised and the emergency phone number to call if something bad happens to you. We don’t go back on our word my dear. The only reason why you are now turned into a green, blue and white mummy on my youngest daughter’s bed is that, well…, I don’t know you and I can’t trust in you as of now because of that… and I confess, I love to mummify girls!’
The old…, she gave her quite a few foul words that didn’t passed the sponge and tape, the old lady bent over and kissed her forehead, covered her tape mummified body and shut the lights before closing the door and leaving her alone.
She shifted in her bonds and found no slack, it wasn’t a very unpleasant feeling (more like a tight hug that anything else), which meant that this old rascal had really some experience in mummifying people... Since she had no other option but to sleep, she closed her eyes and tried to think of what she would do for a living as soon as this crazy situation she had found herself in was over. Three minutes later the sedative pumped into the room made effect.
No one ever knew what really happened at the Southern Oak Tree Hill Cemetery that night, the most accepted theory was that Enrico Malfredi had tried to buy the DA from the still-at-large Lt. Harvey Finn clutches, and the negotiation went horribly wrong.
The discovery of the tunnel used by parts unknown to get out of the shooting undetected confirmed an old and local urban legend. Back in the days of the Underground Railroad, the local chapter of the abolitionist movement had reformed and used a few old tunnel mines that existed under the town (who had been formed as just another town mine back in the early XIX Century) to better help the escaped slaves to move around town. During the Prohibition years the local mob had adapted some of those tunnels for their needs, and were using them ever since. A quick and thorough investigation on public and private records and libraries found old maps that led to the discovery of nine tunnels (one of them over seven miles long) in perfect conditions of use under the town, and a few evidences that those had been in use for the past twenty years at least.
They soon became a local tourist attraction.
Since there was no hard evidence that proved that any member of the Malfredi family knew about the tunnel, the kidnapping and attempted sale of the DA was the only ‘package’ of accusations against Enrico Malfredi that the Feds had (very reluctantly from their part) to drop before they brought him to trial. But the others they had were strong enough to stand in any court they were brought to, actually, in legalese terms, the whole incident (due to its many blanks and uncertainties) was considered ‘too toxic’ to be brought up...
There were still about 10% of voters that didn’t understood why she hadn’t took any active part in the dismantle of the Manfredi Family. But most of the others did understood that her objectivity had gone down the drain the moment she had been kidnapped, so her re-election was absolutely sure, even her rival had admitted (implicitly) to her in a private conversation before one of their political debates that he had already lost, but that she had better to do a great job in preventing that any Eastern or Western family/group/gang, foreign or not, didn’t replaced the Manfredis as many were planning to, or he would be back in the next election... And she was working hard to eliminate that treat!
She even had a small problem, that her greatest fundraiser’s doctor identified as an early stage of anemia due to poor nutrition and long hours of work, during a charity event at the fundraiser’s manor near town. She was taken to a room and the event went on without her.
For the next three hours Laura Coy was going to have, through a very secure line, a private video conference with the still missing Catherine Nelson (Perkins’ former fiancée), then it would be the turn of Marion Colby (Finn’s love interest) and finally, after nearly an year without seeing her, her beloved Faith (actually Carol Evans)...
Both Catherine and Marion had no regrets of being living new lives under new names. Cath had become a liability for Harvey Finn and his Stray Cats, and was living in fear for a long time when she disappeared. She still had some wishes to give to an ‘old rascal’ a taste of her medicine, but it was more a playful revenge than a real one. She informed Laura that she was seeing professional help twice a week, but that if by any chance the Feds needed her testimony to convict Finn and the others for the murder of the DEA agent (and they actually did) she was available. So Laura talked to whoever was in charge of Cath’ security for a good hour trying to find a reasonable and safe way to have her back in town (which ended up happening four days later). Then it was the Marion’s turn.
She really loved Harvey, and like Laura herself she thought that he was a real hero until that night. She had no desire, nor need, to return to town. She confessed to Laura that she was enjoying an old dream, to live in Alasca (although she didn’t specified where), and that nothing would make her leave her actual place. Then in was Faith’s turn...
She seemed healthy, for a bound, gagged, blindfolded and naked girl that is...
Laura jumped from the bed ready to yell to the world the whole truth, but then Kathleen Talbot entered the room with a very angered expression in her face, passed besides Laura as if the DA wasn’t there and saw the image of Faith kneeling tied with ribbons on a bed somewhere, and her expression got worst. Really worst.
‘It... wasn’t supposed to be like that... obviously... the women in charge of her security are a bit too... peculiar... and they thought that you would like to see her as a wrapped gift, waiting for you to be properly unwrapped as soon as it was possible...’
Laura’s mind took a moment to understand what Kathleen had subtly said...
‘She’s... here? Faith is... here?’
‘Well... yes... look I am sorry for all of this...’
But the DA couldn’t care less about that anymore, with some effort the millionairess forced her to calm down and wait for her signal to go to the room where Faith was waiting for her. That led to a more serious and professional conversation between the two women. Not for a single second Kathleen had hoped that Laura would pretend to ignore the activities of her vigilante organization, but they had agreed to establish a few rules of contact between them. The fact that Kathleen was sheltering and taking care of Faith (until Laura had confidence enough that her electorate wouldn’t mind about her sexual orientation allowing her to get out of the closet) was out of any pre or post condition between them, and if Laura ever managed to build/elaborate a solid case against the Uncanny Friendship, both women agreed that it was a ridiculous name for the group, so be it.
Five minutes later Kathleen locked the two lovers in her most private, secret and safe room, and while she returned to the event to inform that Laura was going to spend the night at her home, she thought about a proper punishment to those four... pranksters!