Part 3 – Helena Hendricks

  Chapter Twenty-three – Money?

  They waited for Fred. Brent wanted everyone here. He had something to say. Fred leaned against the door frame. His face was expressionless.

  Brent stared at Frank. He spoke, “Is he going to sit down?”

  Frank said, “He's deciding.”

  Mrs. Hendricks asked, “If he wants to sit down?”

  Frank replied, “If he wants to keep his dog in this fight.”

  Mrs. Hendricks and Brent looked at Fred. They were confused by Frank’s statement.

  Frank explained, “He's a free agent here. I can't tell him what to do. He comes and goes as he pleases. He doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do. He offers his opinions, and I listen to his advice. He is my friend.”

  Mrs. Hendricks offered, “I thought he was your bodyguard.”

  Brent nodded in agreement.

  Fred spoke up, “Nope. He's usually the one protecting me. I'm a very peaceful person.”

  Frank stated, “And a well-tempered one. Not prone to violence at all. He's better at seeing small moving pieces than I am. So, do you want to hear what Brent has to say?”

  Fred responded, “Yes. Partly because I want to know why I was invited. I also see a plan coming together.” He sat at the table.

  Brent hurriedly said, “There's cash hidden all over this house. Mr. Murphy sent it up in small packages. I know where most of it is. We all need to agree on what happens to it. It's the only way for everyone to be safe.” He glanced at Fred.

  Mrs. Hendricks mumbled, “I thought you were hiding cigarettes or whiskey. I never looked. A man needs to have some secrets. I guess, I was used to people hiding things around here. Cash? How much cash are we talking about?”

  Cautiously, Brent spoke. “One bundle a month for about a year. So that's about one hundred and twenty thousand to one hundred and fifty thousand.”

  Mrs. Hendricks spoke sullenly, “There was that much money laying around this house. He's been hiding packages here since we got married. I couldn’t even get enough money out of him to support his daughters. I milked cows every morning for 20 years. I cleaned and sewed and scraped and saved just to survive with my three daughters. And he had money. I couldn't take a trip to Boston, and he had money. I couldn't go to Pennsylvania without him, and he had money. I sewed my daughter's clothes, and he had money. I couldn't get an electric heater. I chopped wood, and he had money.” She was angry. Her face was red. She scanned the men at the table. She questioned her life. These three strangers were here to help her. The man she loved was nowhere to be found.

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  She corrected herself. The man she once loved was nowhere to be found. Her hatred turned into indifference, but the hatred didn't go away. Her eyes blinked as she faced the table. Fred’s giant right hand was lying on the table. She wrapped her hand around one of his fingers. She smiled with a sad smile.

  Fred spoke evenly, “I know I have big hands.”

  She replied, “I've noticed. We should leave the money where it is, for now. There's no need to let on that anything has changed. What my husband doesn't know won't hurt him. This will give us some time to plan. I think we need a plan.”

  Brent said, “The money is not clean. It's not all his money. He owes that money to someone. If we take it, we're taking someone else's money. They're probably bigger and meaner than him. We don’t want them to come after us.”

  Fred asked, “I wonder? What percentage of that is his?”

  Brent thought for a moment before he said, “I'm not sure the percent, but he'll keep about forty to fifty thousand.”

  Fred spoke to himself, “Therefore, he needs to return at least one hundred thousand or some people will get very mad. We could take twenty and give the lady thirty then return the rest to the people Mr. Murphy works for. That would give the lady a cushion and do what you were talking about?”

  Frank returned, “It would save me the trouble of finding a new revenue stream. It could serve another purpose as well. Why poke a Hornets nest if you can trick someone else into doing it? It might be helpful to know who the bigger players are?”

  Fred agreed, “Yes it would. A little money ending up in the right place. Some misdirection. A little distraction. It could play into your long game?”

  Frank continued the discussion, “We would have to keep the shortfall small enough to keep his anger from being directed at Mrs. Hendricks. The big players will need to get most of their money back. Do you know what would be nice? We use his own funds to clean up his mess. I don't think he would like that very much.”

  Brent spoke up. “I don't know what you're talking about. But I think I know who he's laundering money for. Would that help?”

  Frank grinned, “Yes, Brent it would. It would be very helpful. Could you write those names down for me? I'm afraid they wouldn't mean very much to me right now.”

  Fred interrupted, “Mr. Sullivan might be able to help us with those.”

  Brent pulled a letter size legal document towards him. He flipped it over and picked up the pencil. He began writing. He wrote one name. It was Russian. He knew Frank would recognize it.

  Frank spoke, “Mrs. Hendricks, I don't have a solid plan yet. I do have an idea. Let me explain it to you.”

  She nodded toward Frank. She still held Fred’s hand.

  He continued, “Your husband is a little fish who works for big fish. If we keep the big fish's money, it could come back to hurt us. The idea is to return the big fish's money, but we keep the small fish’s money. But when we do this, we're going to need to do some things to protect ourselves. We're going to keep a little bit of the big fish's money. Then with a little help from our friends, we are going to direct their anger at the little fish.”

  Brent lifted his eyes and said, “So we give him back enough to almost cover his debt. Then he comes out of his own pocket to cover it. How were these names going to help? Oh yeah, I almost forgot. It's time for the money to go out. We don't have much time.”

  Frank wondered, “What would you say? Do we have more or less than thirty days?”

  Brent guessed, “I would say about forty-five to fifty days. There'll be one more drop off before the money goes out.”

  Frank smiled as he said, “That should be enough time. We float the idea that he's skimming. If he gets angry enough, the shortage will get around without our help. It'll make for a great distraction.”

  Frank’s smile worried Fred. Lately, he was dangerous when he smiled.

  Frank went on, “The misdirection is a little bit harder to accomplish. You and Brent will have to suddenly disappear from this place. There will be rumors of some unknown group threatening you. He'll expect you to run and hide. The big fish will mysteriously get their money. Well, most of it. We'll have to find the courier. I don't know what I want to do about him yet. I think it’ll have to be dramatic. The ruse probably won't last long. His anger will have to be directed at me instead of you two. Mrs. Hendricks, do you think you and Brent would want to help?”