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“What?” I snap. “He had Abigail in his home the whole time?”
Knix nods his head in response. “We were both locked up in different cells in an isolated building on his property.”
“That son of a bitch,” I muttered furiously. “I can’t believe he brought a bunch of cops down to his home where he was holding people captive. He sure has a lot of guts.”
“Anyway, I happened to see Abigail being dragged in a few hours after I was locked up. About an hour after Anderson rushed out of my cell, I overheard one of the guards announce that Anderson had been shot. The news created a ruckus among the guards, and I took advantage of their distress. I knocked out a few, and shot a few dead…. Anyway, it’s how I was able to get us out of there. On our way out, I made a quick stop at Anderson’s place, which brings me to the exciting part.”
“I guess this is where the good news comes in?” Seer asks with an expectant smile.
“You bet,” Knix replies excitedly. He reaches into the inner part of his cut and brings out a worn-out brown leather book. “I was able to get my hands on this,” he says, holding the book up to us with a cheeky smile. “Turns out our man is quite the bookkeeper.”
“What is that?” Seer asks, gesturing at the leather book.
“A precious journal that has all of Anderson’s clients from his very first to the last,” Knix replies, holding out the book to me with a pleased smile. “Mayor Craig and Director Butcher seem to have required his services a lot over the years. I’d call them VIPs.”
I slowly flip through the journal, glancing through the neatly scribbled handwriting. The more I read, the harder my stomach twists with disgust. Not only the Mayor and Director of Code Enforcement but also influential politicians, CEOs of top companies, and even celebrities have all received one absurd service or the other from Anderson Grey. It’s scary how the positions of power are filled to the brim with filthy men and women with monstrous hearts and selfish desires. It’s a pity, really. The whole of NOLA is a victim.
“Those bastards,” I mutter, passing the journal to Seer with a weary sigh. “They really all are beasts covered in human skin, aren’t they?”
“That’s enough to take them all out in one go, right?” Knix asks while Seer goes through the journal. I can see he’s deep within each page as he reads and flips. “It’s handwritten, which means it has Anderson’s fingerprints all over it,” Knix continues. “Thankfully, there’s a thing like handwriting analysis and the like these days.”
“This is so disturbing,” Seer says, snapping the journal closed and dropping it on the table with an angry sigh. “How do these bastards sleep at night?”
“Very well, I suppose,” Knix replies with an ironic snort. “And that’s probably because they don’t know that Anderson has something like this dangling over their head. Evidence like this is usually kept on drives and is not so detailed. If anyone looked, they wouldn’t suspect a worn-out journal placed carelessly on Anderson’s bedside table. Anyway, this journal is going to create quite a ruckus.”
“You’re right,” I say, scratching my chin thoughtfully. “Although we might be able to prove some things like that Anderson orchestrated Xander Farrell’s fall and the Mayor ordered his execution, all of that is written in the journal. However, I have to give Anderson some credit for being so detailed. There is some traceable information that they won’t be able to get rid of in a hurry even if they tried, like the funds that Mayor Craig swindled through Anderson’s companies in Switzerland, Spain, and some Asian countries. There is also the fact that Butcher signed off on several fake projects and invested in companies under his in-laws and distant relative names.”
“Did you see the part about Terry Black?” Seer asks, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe that the well-known gospel singer pervert enjoys using little girls for his personal entertainment. And, of course, Anderson provides an endless supply of them.”
“Those that are not trained to be mercenaries and assassins are used as prostitutes,” Knix says solemnly. “Many of them die from several diseases and infections.”
“It says in the journal that about three girls have died under Butcher’s ministrations,” Seer says. “And what’s more? That bastard buried them on his property outside of town. This journal sure makes things easier. It specifies the exact location they were buried. Anderson even got properties as a reward for their lives.” Seer scoffs loudly. “To think they are public figures. Terry Black makes all sorts of criticizing posts and comments about projects handled by Anderson’s companies. Who would have thought they were best pals behind the scenes? What a joke.”
I understand Seer’s anger. Like him, I feel disappointed and betrayed. The names in this journal are of people that are trusted and celebrated by tens of thousands of New Orleanians. It doesn’t make sense that they are abusing the citizens’ trust so callously. None of it makes any sense….”
“What do we do with all of this information?” Seer asks after a few seconds of contemplative silence. “I wasn’t expecting we’d land something of this scale.”
I sigh deeply and lean back against the sofa. “Neither was I, but it’s good we did. We can sweep them all out in one go. But first, we disarm Anderson. Surely he’d try to worm his way out of this. I’m pretty sure some of his contacts are not in this journal – a man like Anderson will always have a backup plan. Thankfully, we have the upper hand because he’s still undergoing hospital treatment. We have to find his base and strike while the iron is still hot. Anderson won’t know what hit him.”
“But even Knix couldn’t find that information,” Seer says with a worried expression. “How do we find the base?”
“Leave that to me,” I say with a wry smile. “I’ve got an idea.”
“We need to get the right authorities involved, but even some notable members of the police are connected to Anderson.”
Knix clears his throat loudly in a bid to get our attention. “I may know someone who can help.”
“Really?” Seer asks hopefully. “Who?”
“Well, as a mercenary, I come across all sorts of people on the job,” Knix says with a small shrug. “I once worked undercover with an FBI agent. Although I didn’t receive any credit for obvious reasons, I played a role in bringing down a major drug cartel. Anyway, I think I can call in the favor.”
“Who’s this agent of yours?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest. “Can we trust him?”
“Her,” Knix corrects. “She’s a woman, Agent Adele Bradley. I think she might be our best bet. She has higher authority than the locals and is known for her intolerance of crime. Once she bites, there’s no letting go. Anderson will not be able to squeeze out of this very easily if we can get Agent Bradley on board.”
“Are you sure you can convince this Agent Bradley to take on the case?” I ask Knix.
Knix shift’s uncomfortably and laughs nervously. “We’ll…I’m not the most law-abiding citizen either, but I’m sure Agent Bradley hasn’t forgotten the past. I’ll give it my best shot, Prez.”
