Simon

Simon - A Hannah Todd Story

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. This work is copyrighted by the author. All characters involved in sexual activity are eighteen years of age or older at the time of portrayal.

This is the next of the continuing adventures of Hannah Todd. I would strongly recommend you read at least some of "The Bridge," "Badass," and "The Auction," which provide the backstory for most of the characters in this story. And if you've been reading me, thank you for your continued support. Your comments are priceless, so please leave your wisdom so I might improve my writing.

Simon - Part Two

Greta Goldheimer was whupped. She'd spent a lot of time in the safe house facing her ex-friend, and was at her wit's end. She wanted the torment we were putting her through to end. But she just didn't know where to get started. So, I helped.

"Tell me, Greta. When and where did you meet with Simon? Did you go to him or did he come to you?"

"I met him at Deacon's estate in Alpine. Must have been two years ago. Summer of 2054, I believe. I remember it was hot."

"Yep. '54washot. A real scorcher from May through October. And what were the circumstances of your meeting with Simon?"

"What it always was with Simon. The part of the business I always found unpalatable, the buying and selling of young girls. You must know that art is my specialty, and that was what I wanted to buy and sell. But Deacon always had me..."

"He had you, what?"

"He made me..."

"He made you, what, Greta?"

"He made me unleash my guards upon them. He made me... break them."

"Some admission, Greta. At least it's honest. How many girls and over what time period? And for whom? Tell me, Greta. Tell me now!"

Goldheimer broke down and cried. Francois had no pity on her and scoffed at her as she cried.

"Don't believe her. She reveled in her power over the girls. She was cruel to them, and she abused them physically and sexually. She-she-she..."

"Did she rape them?"

"She raped them and had them raped. Although we were friendly, there was always an undercurrent of power that she had over me. I just succumbed to her dominance."

Greta took exception to what Peintre said. "You lying' bitch. How many girls did you expedite across the border? Huh? I may have trained them, but you sent them off to parts unknown. Tell her. Go ahead!"

Had they been able to get to each other, there most certainly would have been a physical fight. Alec and Hoagie's presence helped to stem the rage in the room when they moved between the women so they could barely look each other in the face.

"Alright you two," I said. "Here's how it's gonna be. There will be a light dinner for each of you tonight, but we're gonna be foregoing showers for the time being. I'm keeping you two together and I want you used to each other. Tell me, Hoagie, what are we smelling so far?"

"That's fear, ma'am. Unmistakable."

"And that scent will only grow until I get exactly the cooperation I need. You two have pretty much told me you know more than you are saying, and I want you to think about what else you will be telling me. If not, tonight's repast may be the last meal you have for some time. And if you think you know how to break women and girls, wait until you see how I do it. Mercy is not on the menu. You will beg for mercy, and if I don't get what I want, you will beg me to let you die."

They were both crying when I left the room. As promised, I left a guard to watch over them. Mostly so they would think twice about trying to kill each other.

My next stop was to see Winger. He had his 'come to Jesus moment' when he sold out Jim Butler, and was willing to sell out Peacock and whoever else he had to in order to get a decent meal and a good night's sleep. So I accommodated him.

"I never met Simon formally, but he was on the property at Deacon's place while I was working there. Everyone walked on eggshells around him, especially the higher-ups. This was before I became one of Mr. Peacock's officers. And I only saw him from a distance. I was in charge of the gate at the time, and when he drove by, the car windows were heavily tinted, so I didn't see anyone but the driver, who put his window down to be ID'd to enter the property. There were three people in the back seat, whom I could barely see, but I couldn't swear as to who was who."

"Tell me, Winger, what else can you tell me about Simon?"

"Only the results of his visit. When he left things really tightened up."

"Tightened up? What does that mean?"

"Mr. Peacock became even more of an asshole, and security got really tight. More guards, more rules, and much more accountability. Turnover got greater. And not in a good way."

"Turnover?"

"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, it was a great job, but it got to the point where everybody was up each other's' asses, all day long. You didn't know who to trust. I attribute it to that one visit from Simon. You can talk to Mr. Peacock about it. I'm sure he'll..."

"Oh, don't worry. Deacon and I will discuss it for sure."

I thanked Winger, promised he'd be fed and then proceeded to Deacon Peacock's room.

Peacock was beside himself. Two of the guards moved Raven to Teetotaler's room, and you could hear him squawking. "Please," he said. "Poor Raven does not deserve this treatment. Please. I've been cooperative. There's no need..."

"Sorry, but you have trained him to torture people, and now he's doing it on my behalf."

"If you keep stressing him out, he'll be no use to you after a while. I can direct him without harming him. Let me assist you, and we will both get what we want."

"You love that bird more than people, don't you?"

"Very much so. Avians are so much more... civil. They have defined the term 'pecking order.' And Raven is at the top. Please let me settle him down. You'll find him more helpful that way."

"I'll consider it, but for now I need him screeching at Teetotaler to loosenhimup. When I'm good and ready, we'll use him more as a prod than as a cudgel."

"You are a cruel mistress, Hannah Todd. To both man and beast. Lute Steep, Miss Todd. Lute Steep."

"Well, this conversation is going nowhere, Mr. Peacock. You'll get your bird back tonight once Teetotaler has been duly terrorized. For now, though, I'm outta here." And Alec and I left Peacock to his own devices.

----------------------------------------------------

I was perplexed as to how to proceed regarding Simon Meetcham. With all the people I had possession of, nobody could give me the information I needed to find the man. Of the entire group, only Goldheimer, Peacock and Teetotaler admitted to knowing what the man looked like. And he wasn't on the system, as far as I could tell. Not by name, at least. The two men with that name ended up being a dead end. Rhee had them identified in a heartbeat, but neither just weren't our guy. One of the Simon Meetchams had been dead for ten years, and the other was sixteen years old and lived on the west coast.

There's an RFS agent who had been a cop back in the day, and he had a talent for drawing and worked as a sketch artist for his last few years on the force. If I could pair him up with Peacock and Teetotaler, maybe we could come up with a sketch that facial rec could identify. It wouldn't be the first time, although it was rare to get an accurate ID from a sketch. I'll use Goldheimer for final approval.

The only piece of information that I believed was factual was that Simon lived in West Virginia, and that we had an address and phone number for him. As bogus as that may have been. Rhee had two agents watching the house, but it appeared to be a dead end. Nothing suspicious was happening there. In fact, nothing at all was happening. As it appeared, although furnished, the house sat empty.

Then there was the phone number. We'd have to be prudent about calling it because once we did the number would undoubtedly be burned, so we'd only get one bite of that apple. It would also let him know we were on to him, and he would just go further underground.

--------------------------------------------------

It had been over two weeks since the auction, and I wanted to get my brain trust together in order to further my plan regarding Simon. So I had Hoagie, Alec, Avi, Liz, Duane and Herman meet with me at my place. We also brought Rhee Spanner into the meeting via videoconference. We kicked Leo out of the Greenhouse and held our meeting there. I also invited Jim Butler as a late arrival to get input from him. Had he met Simon? I hadn't asked him yet.

"Alright," I asked. "Who has any ideas about where we might find this Simon character?"

"Well," Avi said, "We know he's in West Virginia. Let's explore the wealthiest people in what is a traditionally poor state and see what shakes out."

"Then we can do some flyovers like we did regarding Teetotaler." Alec added, being our resident geek.

"How about your guests, Hannah?" Lizzie added. "I'll bet they are not telling all they know. Or maybe we are not asking the right questions."

"Well, Liz," I said. "Butler is coming soon and maybe he can add something to what we have already learned from our captives."

"Having worked with Butler," Hoagie said. "I think I'd trust what he has to say over the rest of that bunch. He seems to be fitting in pretty well over at Acquisitions."

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "He's a hell of an administrator and has already brought good ideas to the company. Distribution is already more streamlined. I have no doubt he'll be running Acquisitions in no time. It will give me a chance to get my life back. So, I'm a fan of Jim Butler."

That's when Rhee spoke up. "I've had Shadow on him since you put him to work and there doesn't seem to be any funny business. He appears to be doing what he says he is and has had no contact with anyone we would consider notorious. So far, he has been trustworthy, but we're keeping an eye on him anyway, for now."

"And any news on Simon?" I asked.

"Still a loose end. So far I don't know any more than what I've already told you. I have a gut feeling though, that whoever it is you are looking for stole the identity of the dead Simon Meetcham ten years ago and is using it as anom de guerre. My best recommendation is to have a sketch artist do a rendition of Simon as described by your guests and then run it through facial rec. Once you get a couple of hits, then run those pics past your guests and see if it bears fruit."

"Brilliant. Anyone else?"

Hoagie spoke up. Always one to have an opinion. "I say we gather your 'guests' as a group and make an example of one. That will loosen some lips."

"Calm down, Hoagie. We'll not be skinning anyone alive just yet."

Not to be left out of the conversation, Duane spoke up. "Kirby is trustworthy, and a deeply vetted member of the RFS team. I think if we clean up the guests who cop to having seen Simon, he could put together an image that facial rec might just pin down. Although at this point Simon may be so far underground that it wouldn't help."

"A chance we'll have to take, my man. Here comes Butler. I'd like us to gang up on him a bit concerning Simon. Maybe he knows something he hasn't yet told us."

Butler had parked the car and Bertha was steering him to the Greenhouse. He was walking jauntily, and didn't seem to have a care in the world. We'll see how long that lasts.

I introduced him to the crew, most of whom he knew at this point, and asked him, point blank, if he had ever met Simon Meetcham.

"Sure. I met him once at Deacon Peacock's place and spoke to him several times about business he had with The Company. He is a strange but forthright fellow. Why do you ask?"

"Duane wants you to meet with his man Kirby, to describe Simon to him. He'll do a sketch which we will use to identify him. I have a particular interest in him."

"Sure. No problem. But it's gonna take more than an ID to get hold of him. He virtually lives underground, and his people are extremely loyal to him. And unlike you, they take no prisoners."

"Well, you've seen what we do to folks like that. Where does this Simon sit in the hierarchy of all things in the flesh trade?"

"As far as I know, he stands at the top. That's the way Deacon always treated him. More than respect. With reverence, like he was a fucking god."

"Like nationally at the top, or regionally?"

"I couldn't say, but nobody ever made any reference to someone who could have been his boss. As far as I knew, he was at the top of the food chain. The big fish."

"Does anyone else have any questions for Mr. Butler?"

"I do," Hoagie said. "Was anyone else in those meetings with you and Peacock and Simon?"

"I actually attended two meetings at Deacon's with Simon. One was attended by the auctioneer."

"Teetotaler?"

"Yep."

"Good to know."

"Actually, they came together in the same car. Seemed to have a strong relationship."

"Oh?"

"Absolutely. So, besides me, you have two other confirming sources as to what Simon looks like. Not that it will do you much good."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It's a rare occurrence that the guy leaves his burrow. It's not like you're gonna catch him walking down the street."

"I guess you are right. But I am of the firm belief that the more I know about the guy, the closer I will get to catching him. And I will catch him."

"Of that I have no doubt."

Avi chimed in, "How long ago was it that you met him?"

"About three or four years ago. Around '52, I think. It must have been '52, because they were in the midst of planning one of the biggest auctions we've ever done. Hundreds of girls went that year. The auction lasted three days."

"And did you have any meetings with a guy named Wendell?"

"Wendell Sythe? Sure. Wendell and I coordinated a lot. You have him, don't you?"

"I do. Did he deal with Simon very much?"

"All the time. We even videoconferenced. Me, Deacon, Teetotaler, Sythe and Simon. Generally before an auction."

Then a thought sprung to mind. "Now that Teetotaler is out of the way, who will conduct the auctions for Simon?"

"Teetotaler was not the only auctioneer, just the most prominent. You pretty much have emasculated Teetotaler's customer base. Other auctioneers have their own. But you will have to travel. And that is where I no longer will be able to help. But Deacon may. He knows other auctioneers besides Teetotaler, and that may be a starting point for you."

"Jimmy, my boy, you have become a most welcome employee. I want you to go back downtown and sit with Kirby and get started with the first sketch. I'll be bringing Mr. Kirby up here later in the week to sketch some more. Do your best with him, as you are my baseline. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll get right down there now."

"Avi will take you and bring you home at the end of the day. Duane, please call Mr. Kirby and have him gather his tools."

"Yes, ma'am."

---------------------------------------------------

I hadn't heard from Agent Russo for several days so I gave her a call on the burner phone that I supplied to her. She was slow to pick up, but she did.

"Miss Todd, I'm extremely busy right now. We've been interviewing participants of the auction and..."

"Fine. Call me tonight. After eight. Capisce?"

"Si, capisco, Miss Todd. I'll talk to you then."

"You'd better."

*CLICK*

Good that we put that call off as the kids were just arriving home from camp, which had started last week. They were totally exhausted and went right in for showers and some tablet time before dinner.

Liz was staying over yet again, and she and Herman joined us for dinner. Roasted veggies and mac and cheese for the kids. Salads for us adults. It's been hot; of course it has, it's July, so we had salads. Straight from the garden.

After dinner, it was right upstairs to their rooms for more relaxation and tablet time. They had no energy left for anything else, and by seven-thirty the only ones still awake were the babies. Herman left for home, and Duane and I had some mommy/daddy time with the little ones. Something we did far too infrequently. Especially together. But they enjoyed and we enjoyed it. But they too were in bed a little before eight. A good thing, because at eight on the dot, my supercell rang. It was Russo.

"So, Agent Russo, what have we learned so far?"

"Not a hell of a lot. Everyone is claiming that they were at their first auction and they were just there to observe. They said that's why they had no money."

"And you believe them?"

"Oh, hell no. They are all guilty as sin and the judges aren't letting them out so quickly. Housing them has become a crisis and one person cells are now holding two at a time."

"How inconvenient. I'm sure they are uncomfortable. Good. Carlotta, I want you to do something for me. When you are questioning these people ask them about Simon. They won't say anything, but I'd like to get a feel for their reactions."

"Who is this Simon?"

"He's one of the bad guys. In time you will find out. Until then just let me worry about it. Has anyone been let out on bail yet?"

"Nobody. Even the ones offering up a million to bail themselves out. The judges see them all as flight risks, but their lawyers continue to beg for their release. This case is beyond extraordinary and we are using every tool in the toolbox to keep them all behind bars."

"Good job, Russo. Keep the heat on. How about the bodyguards?"

"That's another story, altogether. They are pleading that they were hired as private security and knew nothing about what was about to happen. Complaining, of course, that they had never done this type of work before."

"And?"

"They tend not to be represented, so they have appointed counsel who are doing their usual ineffective job. So nobody really is getting out. Not yet. But these personal bodyguards have the best chance of release."

"Have you segregated out the people running the auction, yet?"

"Yes. We have seven men and two very butch women who seemed not to fit the mold of either bodyguard or bidder. They were also all dressed in tuxedos. We believe they worked for the auctioneer, but will not admit to it."

"I want you to ask them about Simon. I am counting on your skills as an investigator and a profiler to observe these people and report what you find to me. It's these people I really want to speak with. They will know things I want to know. Things I need to know. Understood?"

"Understood. Can you tell me...?"

"Nope. That's it for now. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Just talk to as many of the auctioneer's people as possible before then. Your impressions are important. Keep up the good work. Have you placed a bet lately?"

"I haven't even bought a lottery ticket. The last thing I need is for you to come down on me."

"Well, let's not go from hero to zero. I think you are doing great. Keep it up Carlotta."

*CLICK*

Before I left the office, I checked my laptop to see if I'd received any new emails or anything over the secure link. I got an image. It would be my first impression of what Simon looked like.

He had a round face and dark brown hair, mostly curly. There was a mustache, trimmed, but no beard and short graying sideburns. The notes said that he had brown eyes and was estimated to be around five foot nine, five foot ten inches tall. He had a bit of a bulbous nose, but no scars or tattoos were noted. His age was estimated to be in his fifties. I expected him to look like an axe murderer, but he didn't. But his eyes were piercing, and they truly came to life when I printed it out in color.

Simon Ch. 02

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