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“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH,” Marge screamed.
Charlie had started to doze on the couch. He jumped up, saw Sterling, and cried, “Junior sent you, I know he did.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Marge cried prayerfully. “The Badgetts didn’t send him, Charlie. He’s a ghost.”
“Please don’t be alarmed. I’m here to help solve your problems with the Badgetts,” Sterling said calmly. “Do sit down.”
They looked at each other and then obeyed. Marge blessed herself.
Sterling smiled. For a moment he said nothing, wanting them to get used to him and lose any lingering fear that he might do them harm.
“Mind if I sit down?” he asked.
Marge’s eyes were still like saucers. “Please do, and help yourself to the Christmas cookies,” she said, pointing to the dish on the coffee table.
“No, thank you.” He smiled. “I don’t eat anymore.”
“I wish I had that problem,” Charlie said, staring at Sterling, the remote control still in his hand.
“Turn off the TV, Charlie,” Marge ordered.
Click. Sterling was amused, remembering the queen’s remark that in this house, Marge ruled the roost. He could see them both begin to relax. They understand that I’m not here to harm them, he thought. It’s time to explain myself to them.
“You know Nor Kelly and Billy Campbell, Charlie,” he began. “And you know they are in the Witness Protection Program.”
Charlie nodded.
“I was sent here to help Billy’s little girl, Marissa, who longs to be with her father and grandmother. In order to accomplish that, it is necessary to remove the threat that hovers over them.”
“Junior and Eddie,” Charlie said flatly.
“Those two!” Marge said contemptuously.
“As I began investigating the best way to ensure Nor and Billy’s safety, I realized that you are in grave danger from the Badgetts as well.”
Marge reached for Charlie’s hand.
“Understanding all the circumstances, I have come to the conclusion that the best and most effective way to solve the problem is to get the Badgetts to go back to Wallonia, where they will be incarcerated for the remainder of their lives.”
“And I hope they throw away the key,” Marge pronounced. “Those two are bad, bad, bad.”
Ever the lawyer, Charlie said, “I assure you, there is no way that those two will ever willingly set a foot on Wallonian soil.”
“Even for Mama Heddy-A
“They’ve been crying in their beer for nearly fifteen years about not seeing her, but they still haven’t paid her a visit,” Charlie said.
“I have a plan that just might take them back to their mother’s side,” Sterling explained.
Their expressions suddenly hopeful, Charlie and Marge listened raptly.
The next morning, FBI agent Rich Meyers, accompanied by his top assistant, agent Hank Schell, arrived at the home of Charlie and Marge Santoli. Dressed as repairmen, they carried in tool kits that held recording equipment.
They sat at the kitchen table with the Santolis while Schell set up and tested the microphone.
When Charlie had phoned Meyers the previous night, Meyers warned him that he might want to have legal counsel before going on the record with potentially self-incriminating disclosures.
Charlie had dismissed the suggestion. I’ve got something far better than a lawyer, he thought. I’ve got Sterling in my corner.
“Ready, Mr. Santoli?” Meyers asked.
“Yes, I am. For the record, my name is Charles Santoli…”
For the next hour, Charlie described his co
Meyers listened impassively.
Charlie took a deep breath. “With what I’m going to suggest to you, you may decide I need medication, not legal help, but at least hear me out.”
Sterling made a face at Charlie and winked.
With a slight smile, Charlie calmly laid out the plan Sterling had outlined to him the night before. Every once in a while he glanced over at Sterling for approval and was rewarded with an encouraging nod.
Meyers’ first reaction-“You want to do what?”-gradually changed to a grudging “It’s not impossible,” to an eventual “We’ve spent thousands of hours trying to get these guys and haven’t been able to make anything stick. But if they’re in prison for good, in Wallonia, their whole rotten operation will fall apart.”
“That’s my point,” Charlie said eagerly. “It may take years to get a conviction here, and even in prison, they’d still be dangerous. But put them in prison halfway around the world, and those dopey goons of theirs would just disappear.”
When the recorder was turned off, the two agents stood up, and Meyers said, “Obviously I’ve got to talk to the big guys at the office about this. I’ll get back to you in a couple of hours.”
“I’ll be here,” Charlie said. “My office is closed through Christmas.”
When Meyers and Schell left, Marge commented, “Waiting is always the hardest part, isn’t it?”
Sterling thought of his forty-six years in the celestial waiting room. “I absolutely agree,” he said. “Hopefully the waiting will be over very soon for all of us.”
At one o’clock, Rich Meyers phoned back. “It’s a go. If you can do your part, we’ll take care of the rest.”
“The stores are always so busy at Christmastime,” Jewel sighed as the limo pulled through the gates of the Badgett estate at three o’clock. “But doesn’t it get you into the spirit, going to the mall and seeing everybody rushing around, doing their last-minute shopping?”
“It gets on my nerves,” Junior said sourly. “I don’t know how you talked me into going.”
“Me too,” Eddie echoed. “I’m not the type to eat lunch in the food court. That place was so noisy, I couldn’t hear myself think.”
“You never think anyway,” Junior muttered.
“Very fu
“But we got some good stuff,” Jewel said brightly. “Those ski sweaters I treated you to look so nice. The trouble is we never go away, and there’s not much skiing on Long Island.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, well. What’re you go
Inside the house, Jewel went straight to the salon to plug in the Christmas tree. “I can’t say I’m crazy about all these purple lights,” she murmured as she squatted, cord in hand, fishing for the outlet.
Junior was at the window. “You invite one of your ditzy friends over here, Jewel? There’s a car down at the gate.”
“My friends aren’t ditzy, and no, they’re all out shopping.”
The intercom rang. Eddie went to the security panel on the wall and pushed the button. “Who is it?”
“It’s Charlie, and I have my wife with me. Mind if we come up for a few minutes?”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Sure, I guess it’s okay.”
“What the heck is Charlie bringing Marge over here for?” Junior asked irritably.
“It’s the holidays,” Jewel reminded them. “People drop in and visit each other. No big deal. Just nice and friendly. And caring.”
“The holidays stink,” Eddie said. “They make me feel bad.”
“That’s a very natural reaction,” Jewel told him earnestly. “I was just reading an article written by a very smart psychologist. According to him, people get depressed because-”
“Because people like you drive them crazy,” Eddie interrupted.
“Watch it, Eddie. Jewel is only trying to cheer us up.”
“Oh, lambie pie, you’re so right. That’s all I want to do.”
Eddie went to the door to admit the Santolis.
As the handle turned, Sterling whispered, “Don’t be nervous, Marge.”
Eddie’s lame greeting, “Hi yah, come on in,” made both Santolis know exactly how welcome they really were.