together.” Edward edged back and fell off the bed. “I don’t want to die grandfather,” he said, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket.
His grandfather lowered the weapon. “Then take what you want out of life. Never let anybody get in your way. Not even your fucking father.” Edward entered the conference room. Vernon Campbell sat, legs crossed, impatiently thumping the arms of the chair with his fingers. His other guest, Simon Lynch, a ferret of a man, remained seated, nonchalantly acknowledging Edward’s presence.
“Gentlemen, so glad you could make it,” said Edward, looking in Simon’s direction.
“Forgive me for not standing, Mr. Rothschild. I’ve been a little under the weather,” Simon droned, in an irritating nasal tone.
Edward took his seat at the head of the table next to Vernon. “I’ll get right to the point,” he said. “My son has announced his candidacy for the Presidency.”
Simon raised forward in his seat. “And might I say, he is a fine lad. I think he’ll make a splendid leader of the free world.”
“Thank you Simon. Your compliment, however insincere, is noted.” Simon smiled slyly.
“Now that the race for the White House is official, I want our little problem taken care of immediately.”
“Because Simon here got happy and killed Patrick Miller at the homeless shelter,” said Vernon. “It’s going to be a bit more difficult.”
“It was necessary,” chimed Simon, casually examining his well-groomed fingernails. “He got a little suspicious after I questioned him. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You let Veil get a look at you, you stupid fuck,” Vernon yelled.
Edward motioned for him to calm down, but Vernon hopped to his feet. “I told you not to bring him in Edward. He’s going to blow everything, and we can’t afford mistakes.”
“Simon, you were careless and messy,” Edward scolded. “If Veil had caught you, it would’ve added immeasurably to my already monstrous problems.”
Vernon looked perplexed. “Is that it?”
“Sit down Vernon,” Edward ordered.
Vernon sat, bug-eyed with surprise.
“It won’t happen again,” said Simon, pouring himself a glass of water. “I do, however, agree with my esteemed colleague. Mr. Veil’s not an easy mark. And that woman he has for a partner. Christ, she’s a real piece.”
“You mean the black woman, Thorne?” asked Vernon.
“Yes,” said Simon. “And I think we should use the term African-American.”
“Gentlemen please, enough,” snapped Edward.
Vernon shook his head in disgust. Simon continued to examine his nails, calm, unmoved. “Maybe a different approach is in order,” said Simon. “A propaganda strategy perhaps?”
“Yes Edward,” agreed Vernon. “A smear campaign. The media will jump through hoops for us; besides, this isn’t the first time someone’s gotten close to the truth about Kennedy’s assassination.” Edward slammed his fist down on the desk and glared at both men.
“They have evidence you fools. I want the evidence found and I want them killed. All of them.”
“Listen to reason,” Vernon pleaded.
Edward stood up. Simon slumped back, his eyes shifting between the two, obviously enjoying the skirmish.
Edward leaned forward, sweat beading on his forehead. “Vernon, I’ve known you for over four decades. You know me well. You know when I say I’ll destroy your family if you don’t make this problem go away. I mean it.”
Unnerved, Vernon turned beet-red. Edward turned to Simon. “And you, you pathetic little parasite. I know there’s not much in this world you care about.”
Simon grinned.
“Except that little boyfriend of yours in Los Angeles.” Simon squirmed uncomfortably, horror replacing his smile.
“That’s right you faggot. I know all about him, but don’t worry. I won’t kill him. I’ll just uproot his pretty little bitch ass and transfer it somewhere where they’ll appreciate his, shall I say, finer qualities.” Edward waited for their reaction. Simon sucked his teeth, making a snake-like hissing sound. Vernon sat, head down, like a scolded child.
“Good,” said Edward. “I see we have an understanding. When this is over, we can all go back to being friends.” Vernon’s jaw tightened, then relaxed. “Okay Edward,” he grunted.
“We’ll play it your way. For now.”
“Good. Now I’d like to introduce someone I’ve added to the team.” Edward opened the door and asked his surprise guest to come inside.
“I believe you already know the lady,” said Edward.
Marilyn London walked in and sat down. “Hello boys, glad to be on the team.”
“What’s this bitch doing here?” Vernon snapped.
“Now, now,” Edward responded, positioning himself behind Marilyn.
“We must welcome the opposite sex in the workplace.”
“You think this is some kind of game,” growled Vernon. “If the shit hits the fan, you’ll stink with the rest of us. This whore can’t be trusted.
How much does she know?”
“Everything,” said Marilyn. “Look, I’m not thrilled about working with you either. I usually operate alone. But Edward made an offer too good to refuse.”
Simon nervously picked at a scab on his hand. “No offense to the bitch, but I agree. This is no time for new faces.” He looked over at Marilyn. “Or amateurs.”
Marilyn’s ladylike demeanor melted away. “I ought to blow your brains out all over this room. Amateur! That little stunt you pulled down at the mission-that was amateur!”
Marilyn walked over to Simon and leaned in close to his ear. “And from one bitch to another, if you ever insult me again, I’ll add your prick to my private collection. I have quite a few already, but for you, I’ll make room.”
“Sit down Marilyn,” Edward snarled.
Marilyn returned to her seat, eyes stayed on Simon’s, who glared back, teeth grinding, nostrils flared.
“All of you better listen close,” said Edward. “I want the evidence found and brought to me, I don’t care how you get it done. Or like I said before Ms. London joined us, your family trees will come to an end.”
“Now, you listen to me,” said Vernon. “I don’t know about these high price flunkies. You can treat them any way you like, but I’ve earned more respect than you’ve shown me today.” Vernon pushed up and marched to the far end of the table. “You helped assassinate a President for Christ’s sake. Do you have any idea what that means, you pompous asshole?”
Edward sat poker faced. Detached. Unmoved.
“Let me give you a little warning,” Vernon continued. “I’ll catch and kill Robert Veil and Charlie, but don’t think I’m moved by your threats.
If I go down, you and the whole Rothschild clan will burn in hell with me. I promise.”
Marilyn and Simon raised eyebrows. Edward sat quietly.
“Young junior, failed Presidential candidate, will be the least of your problems,” Vernon continued. “I’ll make sure the name Rothschild isn’t worth toilet paper. So don’t ever threaten me again and don’t dream of fucking with me.”
Vernon threw open the conference room door and stormed out.
After a short, awkward moment, Simon rose. “It’s been an enlightening afternoon Mr. Rothschild.” His eyes narrowed. “Pleased to make your acquaintance again Ms. London.” Edward stayed silent, chilly. Simon pulled a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “Well, I’ll be going now, but rest assured, I’ll do my best to help put an end to this matter urgently.” He softly closed the door behind him. Marilyn’s mood brightened. Edward pulled a cigar from his inside jacket pocket.
He pushed Vernon as planned. Necessary, he thought. He needed the evidence, and wanted Veil, Thorne,
