Today on Old Man Young and the Con Man’s Daughter…
Detective Young is giving a presentation at the Federal Bureau of Investigations Knoxville Field Office that is attended by Special Agent in Charge of the field office, Dotty McDermit; the Chief of the Knoxville Police, Evelyn Tomlinson, accompanied by her Deputy Chief; and the Sheriff of Knox County, TN, Ted Sprewell. Young is nervous, but Sandra had helped him with the presentation, with skills she’d learned in her business classes that she was excited to put to use.
“I apologize for the graphic images,” Young says as he starts, “but it’s important to track the pattern. We have something serious on our hands, ladies and gentlemen, and I’ve been able to corroborate similar instances in other states. These people didn’t die of natural causes, and they’re not drug overdoses, or not an overdose on any drug that we’ve scheduled. Nothing we know about causes these changes in people. It seems to have started in North Carolina back in 2017, publicly anyway. There’s reason to think that the incident in 2017 was the result of years, if not decades of work. And these are the most recent bodies, a group of men in a house, and six other men who died shortly thereafter from similar causes. I don’t have a lot of records from the bodies related to the 2017 event because all records were confiscated by the CDC, but incident reports from all up and down the east coast describe these types of people, these unfortunate people who were turned into monsters, their bodies deformed in grotesque ways. I don’t think we have a serial killer on our hands, I think there is a criminal organization with technology that has spilled out into the public. People need to be warned and someone needs to be held accountable before we lose a whole town to something bad like this.”
The more he talks, the more passionate he becomes and he forgets his nerves. He is speaking on instinct and everyone in attendance is listening intently. When he finishes, he takes a deep breath and stares out at the eyes staring back at him.
“Detective Young,” the Sheriff says, “I would have appreciated a briefing on this before we sat down with the feds.”
“Let’s not turn this into some Sharks and Jets nonsense,” Special Agent McDermit says. “Obviously this is something that hasn’t warranted your attention until now, and the Detective is doing the right thing. This sounds like something that needs to be handled on every level. I will definitely run this up command…”
“Whoa whoa, now,” the Sheriff says defensively, “this is mine to look at before we hand anything off.”
“I think we all need more time with this,” Chief Tomlinson says. “Thank you Detective for bringing this to our attention. We should all agree that we will personally review the material and meet here again tomorrow to discuss how we should proceed. Can we agree on that?”
They all agree and Young thanks them for their time. He doesn’t know if it had gone well but he knows that he had presented a clear case and if they chose not to address it, it would mean that Sandra was right to doubt the department and their enthusiasm for addressing real issues.
Later, somewhere in Knoxville, Tennessee…
Falon has a gun in her waist and one in her hand. Two young men follow her and they think they are whispering to one another, but she can hear them complaining and she thinks their fear is pathetic. They walk a dark side street between two abandoned buildings, and when they make it to the intersection, Falon stops them just beyond the circle of light that forms around a light post next to the sidewalk.
“Shut the fuck up!” Falon says sternly but in a low voice. “Why y’all even work for Clete, you so scared to use your guns?” They both look like children huddled together in the dark with their heads down in shame. “Y’all ain’t got nothing to worry about, I ain’t stupid enough to depend on bitches for real stuff. You see over there?” She indicated with her hand and a hand emerged from the dark of an ally further down the quiet street. “We’re gonna spook the dealers out here, and they’ll take care of the rest. Stay behind me and try to look like men at least.”
Falon walks out of the darkness brazenly and the two young men follow behind her as she shoots into the air. There is a group of black men on the corner, and at least two take off, another pulls his guns on Falon. He stands with her gun in his face and the two other guns of the men behind her.
“Y’all must be turned around or something,” the black man says, no sign of fear in his voice or demeanor.
“Nah,” Falon says, “this our corner now. Y’all can keep selling, but only the stuff you get from us.”
She flicks her gun up, “I think we already talked your friends into it, look.”
The black man turns and he sees all of his friends held at gunpoint and being robbed. He turns back to Falon shaking his head.
“Just fucking kill me and take the shit,” the black man says. “Boss man gone do it anyway. All us good as dead.”
“We too smart to be dead,” Falon says confidently. “Y’all didn’t even see us coming.”
The black man laughs. “You don’t even know who you fucking with do you? Clever ain’t good enough, Becky. Just fucking shoot me, cause when this nigga hear about this, it ain’t gone be pretty.”
“Who you talking about?” Falon asks, “put me in touch with him and I’ll deal with him for you.”
“Dumb bitch,” the black man says and turns his weapon on himself. The young men behind Falon startle audibly. “Yuri own these streets. Whatever little territory you trying to expand, you got that cause Yuri let you have it. And got the nerve to step outta place. He’ll find you and you gone regret tonight.”
He shoots himself before Falon can ask anything else.
She contemplates the man as they drive back to meet Clete. When she is alone with him, she tells him about the man.
“He said Yuri?” Clete asks with a look of concern on his face. They sit outside at the trailer where Clete takes care of his grandmother.
“You ain’t about to shoot yourself too is you?” Falon asks.
“You smart, for sure,” Clete says. “You come up in here with your Phil vodoo, making people do whatever you want, but you ain’t been in it like me. This a family business for me. I been in it my whole life. This ain’t the first time we tried to be in charge of everything, my daddy tried this shit too and all it did was get him killed. You know Fire. Him and my daddy was cool as long as my daddy showed respect, didn’t step on his money. But the minute he started hollering about taking what was his and getting the niggers out of the supply chain, he was dead. This Yuri boy, that’s Fire’s nephew, and if the stories true about him, then he worse than his uncle and I ain’t surprised that boy shot himself rather than deal with telling Yuri we stepping out of our bounds and he wasn’t man enough to stop us. It’s bounds for a reason Falon, it’s all chopped up like it is so that man get the percent he think he due. You got me fucking with that.”
Falon pities Clete’s position. He has to make very shrewd decisions on behalf of a lot of people and it seems to get the best of him. But Falon doesn’t have sympathy for the man, he is living the life that he chose for himself and she needs him to get what she wants. She will pick a fight with the devil himself to find her father.
“Well, you knew all this before I started calling shots,” Falon says. “You coulda already arranged a sit down for me.”
“I was hoping somebody else would be in charge by now, these niggers die all the time. But it’s Yuri, Falon, and that’s a level of scary I don’t know you ready for.”
Falon slaps him with the back of her hand and draws blood at his lip. He holds his face and smiles at her.
“If you can’t set it up, then do what I say until I find somebody who can. I want to talk to him.” Falon leaves him sitting in the backyard.
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