“Why not have those people back you?”
Ophion smiled as though he were thinking back over a memory. “Instead of ‘outlandishly moral’ I should’ve said, ‘nauseatingly moral’. These right people, lose themselves in the filthiest of acts. Still, they’d consider themselves a higher class of human than me because of my interests. Review that folder, Tesano. We can discuss it tomorrow, but it’s yours to keep.”
At Humphrey’s obvious befuddlement, Ophion laughed. “I believe we’ll know each other a long time, Mr. Tesano. I also believe you’ll be motivated by what you’ll learn. I’d like to know your insights.”
“I’m no scientist.”
“So much the better. You may regard my efforts with new eyes, bring new suggestions.” Ophion looked to the bulging portfolio. “You may even fill that with your own insights. Tomorrow at three?”
Humphrey studied the thick folder as well. “Tomorrow at three,” he said.
~20~
“Good to see we didn’t scare you off, Rome.”
Roman shook hands with Senior Crew Chief Mike Corman. “Everyone’s already deep into their proposals for my Pop. Me and Vale are kind of exempt. Pop wants us to shadow and learn.”
“But you want more than that, don’t you, kid?”
Shrugging, Roman grinned.
Corman returned the gesture. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll get you fixed up. I’ll put you with two of my best guys,” he moved in to squeeze Roman’s shoulder. “You stick close to ‘em, stay out of trouble, alright?”
“Yes, sir,” Roman nodded eagerly. Sticking close was exactly what he wanted. His plan was to gently question the guards about their work in hopes of getting a sense of whether Chicago security was getting the same kind of heat as their New York City counterparts. He knew better than to sweat these guys for details. If there was anything shady going on, the last thing he needed was word of an interrogation session getting back to his Uncle Emilio.
~~~
“When I first heard about the guard sector, I didn’t think it’d amount to more than thirty, forty guys, tops. You guys are like an army. Is all that firepower necessary?”
Pete Gibney and Roger Hale were first shift section chiefs who had spent the last six years working their way up through the Tesano guard ranks.
As far as Roman was concerned, the guard sector was the most interesting aspect of the Tesano organization. He’d pretty much inhaled all there was to know about them. For the purposes of his investigation that day, he decided to play the role of the dumb kid.
“All the firepower is necessary more than you know,” Hale said. “We got all kinds hanging around the shipyards and truck grounds. People make a job out of learning those routes in order to set up ambushes during their beats.”
“Guess that doesn’t make my dad too happy, huh?”
Gibney answered. “With all due respect, kid, Mr. T knows the situation very well.” Gibney nodded at Roman’s surprise. “He made a visit to the factory a few years back, remember that Rog?”
Roger Hale nodded, grinning as he remembered. “He told us Tesano was immigrant owned which made it a prime target for-” he shook his head as though realizing he was saying too much.
Roman decided it was time to ditch the dumb kid role. “This proposal assignment from my dad, he wants us to find things the company could improve and improve them. That includes improvements to the guard sector. What did my father think Tesano was a prime target for?”
“Mafia pressure-”
“Dammit Gib!” Hale cautioned, hissing a quiet curse before he turned to Roman. “Look kid, I can’t speak for Gib, but I need this job. Now, I appreciate you not telling your dad we spoke of this.”
Roman kept his expression guarded. Just then, he didn’t care whether his questions got back to Emilio or not. “I’ll keep quiet, but you need to tell me what you know about mafia pressure.”
“Fuck it all, Gib. See what you started!” Hale pulled an unsteady hand through his hair. “Listen Rome, these folks come from all walks- some are just average joes looking for a quick score. Mafia involvement...” he shook his head. “That’s just a rumor.”
Gibney moved in to clap his partner’s back. “Let’s get a move on, alright? The operations guys’ll be comin’ off morning break soon.”
“Yeah,” Hale rubbed his eyes and set out.
Gibney hung back, put a hand out to stay Roman. “You’ll have to excuse Rog. The job means a lot to him. He’s super loyal to your father, just like everyone else around here.”
“I know that Mr. Gibney,” Roman tilted his head to give the man a more direct look. “You might just see me as a flakey kid, but the last thing I’m out to do is get anybody kicked off the job. I’ll go to bat for every last one of you if it comes to that. You’ve got my fucking word on it.”
Roman and Gibney started walking. Gibney waved to Hale who had looked back to see if they were following. He slowed his steps when his partner turned and moved on.
“We could all lose a lot more than our jobs if we talk too loosely about this.”
Roman understood what Gibney wouldn't say. “My dad will see that you and your whole family are protected, Mr. Gibney, but we can’t do anything if we don’t know whose sweating you.”
“That’s the trouble kid, it’s your family who's doin’ the sweating,” with that Gibney clapped Roman’s shoulder and went to catch up to his partner.
***
Humphrey was on his third read through of the Ophion file. The material read like a mix of medical journal meets science fiction with a heavy dose of horror. The last, came by way of the photographs Ophion had included to add detail to his research.
Despite the vivid graphics, Humphrey knew Ophion’s...insights would be useful guides as he continued his own studies. He scanned one of the photos again and seriously doubted his ability to add deed to word. His would-be associate clearly had no trouble doing so.
This is what money was for, Humphrey reminded himself. With an enthusiast like Ophion on his team, he could collect his answers from a distance.
And then what? What if the unorthodox scientist was able to prove what Humphrey hoped- and had yet to share with anyone- that the key to race existed within the framework of the ovary? That the ovary held the key to controlling...dictating race?
With a snort, Humphrey pushed away the folder. Dictating race...many would call him a madman, or worse. They’d probably be right unless they knew his motives. He was no racist. His relationship with Westin Ramsey and his brothers was proof of that. Humphrey had come across few men with such a stellar aptitude for business. He hoped Ramsey Tesano ties would span generations. His interest in racial... controls had nothing to do with that.
