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The Eye of the Beholder
The Eye of the Beholder
The Eye of the Beholder
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The Eye of the Beholder

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On a bright, sunny day, Connecticut senator Theodore Lucci is driven home to his waterfront estate in Greenwich. An unexpected sight meets him: several police vehicles parked by his front door. As he exits his car, he is placed under arrest, and his life is changed forever.

According to authorities, Theodore killed two men in cold blood and robbed $30,000 from a local bank, but there’s no motive. Theodore is the son of a self-made billionaire and has a beautiful wife, twin boys, and a successful political career. Nothing makes sense—unless Theodore is in the midst of a conspiracy.

It’s possible his father, Anthony Lucci, and his father’s best friend and head of a Columbian drug cartel could be involved. Perhaps the eyewitnesses who identified Theodore are wrong, but if Theodore is innocent, who was the mystery man at the bank? There are too many questions, not enough answers, and a man’s life at stake as authorities struggle to uncover a truth that is deeply buried.
LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateNov 22, 2020
ISBN9781663209498
The Eye of the Beholder
Author

Mark Jay Gang

Mark Jay Gang practiced as a psychologist for more than thirty-five years. He is also the author of Challenging Destiny: The Untold Story of Anastasia, The Edge of Brotherhood, and Beyond the Sunrise. Dr. Gang lives in Connecticut with his wife, Marilyn.

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    The Eye of the Beholder - Mark Jay Gang

    Copyright © 2020 Mark Jay Gang.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    This is a work of fiction. All the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

    iUniverse

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.iuniverse.com

    844-349-9409

    Because of the dynamic nature of the internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    ISBN: 978-1-6632-0950-4 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6632-0949-8 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2020918358

    iUniverse rev. date:   11/20/2020

    CONTENTS

    Chapter 1 Colombia, South America

    Chapter 2 Pablo

    Chapter 3 Connecticut

    Chapter 4 Susan

    Chapter 5 Stepmother Dearest

    Chapter 6 Theodore

    Chapter 7 JR

    Chapter 8 Katherine, Geraldo, and Jeffrey

    Chapter 9 Transfer of Power

    Chapter 10 A Day in Paradise

    Chapter 11 The Bank

    Chapter 12 The Arrest

    Chapter 13 Bonnie’s Lament

    Chapter 14 The Interrogation

    Chapter 15 The Arraignment

    Chapter 16 Anthony’s Contacts

    Chapter 17 The Pretrial

    Chapter 18 Court

    Chapter 19 The Bench Trial

    Chapter 20 Eyewitness

    Chapter 21 The Evening of Reflection

    Chapter 22 A Day in Court

    Chapter 23 The Morning After

    Chapter 24 JR’s Retaliation

    Chapter 25 The President’s Call

    Chapter 26 The Event

    Chapter 27 The Election

    To Rachel, Bonnie, and Scott

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    CHAPTER 1

    COLOMBIA, SOUTH AMERICA

    The grand estate emerged from the hillside and was built like a fortress to withstand attack. Each heavy rock used for its construction was harvested from the countryside and carried by day workers up the mountain to the building site. It took three long and laborious years to complete the twenty-five thousand-square-foot home of Carlos Santiago. The cornerstone read 1939.

    The structure stood majestically on the slope of a mountain overlooking the tranquil blue water of the Caribbean. On a sun-filled and cloudless day, one was able to view sea-bearing vessels that were miles away from shore. Salt fragrances filled the air, and there was a total sense of peacefulness and tranquility.

    The turquoise hues of the sea and the multicolored coral were in marked contrast to the moss-covered rocks that dotted the property of the massive stone house. The forest that enclosed the dwelling flourished from the tropical heavy rainfall that often frequented the region. Several streams that flowed down the mountainside carved deep crevices into the earth’s surface as they traveled to the ocean. Wild yellow and purple flowers covered the wooded area surrounding the estate.

    The great edifice had a Tudor-styled granite facade with a dark gray slate roof. It was known as the Hacienda Grande de la Montana or the grand house of the mountain. Large pine trees lined the brown pebble-covered driveway that led to the property, which was set back from the road. A wrought iron fence with detailed ornate metalwork was first seen before reaching the guardhouse and massive gate. The sound of target practice at a far-off section of the property disrupted the beauty and serenity of the picturesque setting. Black-suited men carrying machine guns met those approaching the house.

    The estate was opulent and reflective of the lavish lifestyle of its owner. No money was spared for the construction. Craftsmen from Europe were imported, and the detail of the stone and woodwork were of museum quality. Masterpieces from European artists adorned the interior walls. Although professional decorators were hired, the house lacked what many thought to be a woman’s personal touch.

    The owner was known as Senor Carlos, and many in the South American community respected him. There were those from other provinces who were enamored by his power and success, and many who feared him. The latter were his foes who were perhaps envious of his wealth or despised him for his unspoken deeds.

    Senor Carlos was a striking man. He was tall and handsome with jet-black hair, bushy eyebrows, and deep blue eyes. He was athletic with a chiseled body similar to a Roman gladiator. He exercised daily in his gym, which had been designed by his personal trainer. Carlos had never married and was one of the most eligible bachelors in Colombia—and perhaps the world.

    Carlos Santiago was born in South America in 1911, into an impoverished family who provided him with only the bare necessities of life. His father deserted his mother and five children when Carlos was only ten. He remembered his father as a brash, heavy-drinking, boisterous man who worked as a common laborer who picked up odd jobs around the small village where they lived.

    Carlos had little, if any, interaction with the man. He was afraid of him and felt it best to keep his distance from him. His father often left the house in the late morning, still feeling the effects of alcohol from the previous night, and would not return home until two or three o’clock in the morning, stumbling into the house in a drunken stupor. He slammed the wooden door, woke up everyone in the house, and walked aimlessly into his bedroom before he plummeted into bed. He cared about no one but himself and was quite a lonely individual who turned to alcohol for his salvation. He became angry when he drank, and Carlos’s mother was the object of his wrath and fury. When his father went into an uncontrollable rage, the children ran for cover beneath their beds. One day, his father left in the morning and never returned home. No one ever saw or heard from him again. It was a relief for the family, but Carlos, being the only son, was left to help support his mother and sisters. In later years, several attempts to locate his father failed.

    Carlos’s mother was a shorter than average woman with a pale complexion. She appeared older than her years. Her hard life and years of abuse had taken their toll. She was robust and physically powerful with long grayish-black hair that she wore in a bun on top of her small head. She had grown up in an orphanage and had little formal schooling. A religious woman, she attended church weekly. She was strong-willed and determined, and she worked hard to keep her family together. Employed as a housekeeper and cook, she worked several miles away from her home, at a grand estate, for a local politician and his wife. She walked to her meager job and was a dedicated employee who rarely missed a day. She often carried home leftovers and food scraps from her place of employment to feed her family. The woman of the house where she worked gave her discarded articles of clothing. Carlos’s mother altered the clothes for herself and her children.

    His mother raised Carlos and his four sisters in a small wooden structure that was located off a dirt road in the countryside outside the village. The three-room house, built by his father, had only the basic essentials. There were two small bedrooms. His parents occupied one, and the children were in the other. Their room had one bed and an old wooden handcrafted dresser with several broken handles. The light blue curtains were hand-sewn by his mother from a pair of drapes that her employer’s wife had given her.

    The second bedroom was furnished with two beds that the children shared and a dresser with three drawers. A second pair of faded blue curtains adorned a partially cracked window. Each of the rooms had a ceramic basin and pitcher for washing. The main room of the house had a fireplace with an open hearth for cooking and heating. There was also a wooden table and chairs and a counter where food was prepared. Chipped dishes, clay pots, and several metal pans were placed in a small cabinet. A black kettle hung in the fireplace. In back of the house stood an outhouse and a well.

    Carlos dropped out of school shortly after his father left home. He quickly learned the ways of the street to help support his family. He would steal fruit and vegetables from the local marketplace, and many a wallet found itself in his hands. On some nights, he slept in an abandoned alleyway rather than walk home. He would listen to a stray cat that tipped over a garbage can or rats that scurried around him as he tried to sleep. He was scared and often hungry and wanted more to life than what the street was giving him.

    He sometimes thought about his father before he fell asleep. He often wondered what life would have been like if his dad had been a caring man who provided for his family. Alone and discouraged, he made a pledge to himself that he would survive and have a better life—no matter what he would have to do. Whether it was out of loneliness, the need to belong, or just survive on the streets, he soon connected with a gang in a nearby town.

    He adapted well and enjoyed the camaraderie among the men and other boys. Although he had limited formal education, he had the street smarts and was soon noticed for his wit and willingness to learn by Jose, the leader of the gang. Jose had no known children and took Carlos under his wing. He liked Carlos, and they would spend time together. Jose thought of Carlos as the son he never had. He was aware of his personal circumstances and protected and provided him with food and shelter. By sixteen, Carlos was part of Jose’s inner circle and often stayed in town most nights at Jose’s residence.

    Jose was an overweight, brash, and ruthless man who marched to the beat of his own drum. He drank to excess and was known as a womanizer. His face and body were scarred, and he loved to tell in every detail the stories behind how the mutilated disfigurements were received. Each one represented a conquest that resulted from an altercation with an adversary.

    Jose was the local drug lord and owned several brothels, and he taught Carlos the business. Carlos appreciated what Jose had done for him, but he was not enamored by Jose’s brash behavior, especially in front of the other men. In many ways, Jose reminded Carlos of his estranged father. However, the money and goods Carlos secured from Jose helped him take care of his family. He saw Jose as a means to an end.

    Carlos had a good sense of humor. He was well liked and was respected for his honesty, strength, and fortitude. He was assuming more of the responsibility of the group of men while Jose drank and participated in unruly behavior. Carlos was learning and just waiting for the right opportunity to take control over the gang.

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    Carlos’s mother and four sisters were returning home from church on a stormy afternoon in 1930. Loud thunder could be heard in the distance, and the torrents of rain made their journey home a difficult one.

    They were walking alongside a muddy road when a frightened deer ran in front of them, and they were startled. One of the young girls’ shoes became stuck in the thick water-drenched muck. As she tried to free the submerged shoe, a car stopped and a man opened his window and said, Senora, do you need any help? He then emerged from his car and approached the distressed girl. The rain saturated his clothes, and they clung to his massive body. His shirt was unbuttoned, and a gold chain hung around his neck. The man had a bottle of beer in his hand. The young girl was frightened and apprehensive by the way he appeared and his forthright approach to her. Carlos’s mother looked at him as she wiped the water from her brow. She noticed a distinctive tattoo on the top of his hand. He was likely a member of a group of unlawful men from a nearby province.

    Several other unruly individuals exited the car and were walking toward the family. Carlos’s mother recognized the markings on one of the man’s forearms: a red circle with two black crossing lines. The men surrounded her and her daughters like a pack of wolves, and they started to loosen their belts.

    One of the men stood directly in front of Carlos’s mother and said, You are wet from the rain, and soon I am going to give you what a woman needs from a man. He emptied the remains of the beer bottle on her.

    Carlos’s mother was horrified. She tried to escape and turned around and ran toward her children. He grabbed her, ripped off her skirt, pushed her to the ground, and dropped his pants. He unzipped his trousers and exposed himself.

    The children looked at him and the other men who were approaching them and screamed.

    Carlos’s mother put up a major struggle and fought back with all her strength. As he started to molest her, she kicked him in the groin.

    The man fell to the ground, yelled out in excruciating pain, and motioned for another man to join him. She could not withstand the power of the two men, and her efforts to free herself failed.

    Her daughters tried to outrun the barbaric men, but they proceeded to brutally rape them, and then they bludgeoned them to death with a crowbar. As the men left the gory remains of their captives in the woods like slain animals, one of them did not notice that he had dropped his wallet into one of the dirt-laden puddles of blood during the violent, vicious, and savage attack.

    It took several days before the authorities found and identified the disfigured and mutilated bodies that had been tossed into the woods. By then, the members of Carlos’s family were decomposed and had been partially consumed by wild animals.

    Carlos did not find out what had happened until one week after the dreadful event. There had been talk of the incident and a group of men invading their territory, but Carlos was unaware it was his family who had been slain. Contact with them had been limited in recent months since he was living away from home. Once Carlos discovered what had happened, he was markedly upset, grief-stricken, and furious. He considered himself an orphan. He was alone except for Jose and the other members of the gang. Carlos felt guilty for not being with his family that day. He knew he could have protected them from the brutal attack. That episode would permanently scar Carlos and torment him for the rest of his life.

    Carlos’s mother’s employer was also affected by the event. He paid for and attended the funeral with his wife. It was a dismal day. A thick fog blanketed the area, and a fine cold mist fell and swept across the cemetery. His mother’s former employer tried to comfort Carlos, but although he was appreciative of their generosity and support, he was outraged by what had happened and wanted to avenge his family’s deaths.

    Carlos spoke to Jose after the funeral. Jose appeared sympathetic, but one of Jose’s major concerns was protecting his men from the perpetrators who had invaded his territory. It was decided that they would not wait for the police and would take matters into their own hands and retaliate for the ruthless killings. Jose contacted his informant at the police station who had inspected the crime area and found the wallet. The officer had positively identified one of the men and the gang.

    On a moonless night in early October, Jose’s soldiers and Carlos slipped into the compound of the offenders, assassinated their leader, and apprehended the man identified by the police as the murderer of Carlos’s family. The man was threatened at knifepoint and quickly said who the other men were in the car. They were captured without incident and beaten. Carlos ordered their bruised and bloody bodies be hung by their feet from a tree in a clearing near a pond. He told his men to lower the trousers of their captives, and Carlos took out a sharpened sickle and castrated each of the men. He coughed up a wad of phlegm and spit at the red-soaked body parts that landed on the ground.

    As they bled to death, the men begged for mercy. One of the men’s shoes fell to the ground, and his leg became free from the binding rope. He was too weak to move, and his languid body remained in place with his free leg dangling from the erect tree trunk. The men were doused with gasoline, and Carlos took a cigar and a wooden match from his back pocket. He struck the match against the heel of his leather boot, and then, without hesitation, he lit one of the men with the match.

    As the other men watched in horror, the blaze spread to them. As the men screamed, Carlos and his men turned and walked to their car, leaving the scorched site of burning flesh. Jose took over the other men’s territory, the remaining soldiers joined up with him, and life went on.

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    Over the years that followed, Carlos matured and grew taller and stronger. He was given more of a leadership role and was successful with his endeavors. Jose’s territories, soldiers, and influence continued to flourish. After several years of conflict, Jose negotiated a truce among all the drug cartels. By then, Jose’s acquisitions and influence began to stretch overseas. He had connected with the organized crime syndicate.

    Carlos continued to learn the inner working of his boss’s business. However, Jose’s behavior was becoming more erratic. His drug and alcohol usage and womanizing were out of control. There was talk that he had contracted syphilis. Carlos despised Jose’s wanton behavior. He had known that the time was coming when there would need to be a change.

    One night, Jose brought two wayward women back to his house from one of the brothels. Carlos was fast asleep in another room. He was awakened by Jose’s loud voice. After several minutes, there was complete silence. Carlos fell back into a deep sleep. He was dreaming about his family. He was once again startled by the two women’s voices and woke up. He turned his light on, and two women were standing in front of him.

    They said, The old man is too drunk and high, and we can’t arouse him. The damn fool fell asleep. Is there anything you can do to remedy the situation?

    Carlos looked at them and said, I am not in a position to do anything for you. I am a guest in the house, and Jose is my boss. I am certainly not going to take part of something that is none of my business.

    One of the women replied, We thought you were his companion and would like to have some fun. Carlos was uncovered. One of them looked down at him and said, You appear ready to satisfy us. They both wet their lips with their tongues.

    Carlos glared at them and was disgusted and annoyed at their insolence. He said, Both of you are wasting your time, and nothing is going to happen. Please go home.

    One of the women called out to her friend and said, There is not going to be any action here tonight.

    Carlos quickly and firmly said, Get out of here—now!

    The women left in a heated huff.

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    Months passed, and on a dark and dreary evening in 1936, when Jose had too much to drink and ran several lines of cocaine, he spoke to Carlos. He was impatient as he said, I need you to drive me to a brothel just outside of town. The heavy rain was sheeting as it fell to the ground.

    Carlos reluctantly agreed.

    When they entered the black sedan, Carlos looked over to Jose and said, It is a bad night.

    Jose said, I think it would be a great idea if you joined me at the brothel. I know of a woman who could really satisfy you.

    Carlos turned to him and said, Thank you for the offer, but I have too much to do in the morning. I have to get back to the house.

    Jose took out a tin box from his jacket, opened it up, placed a line of cocaine on the top of the box, and snorted it. This is heavenly, Carlos, and you would enjoy it.

    Carlos said, Please, Jose, I have things to do, and that is not a priority for me. The inclement weather is making it hard enough for me to see the road.

    Jose looked at Carlos and agreed with him as he wiped his nose and placed the tin back in his pocket.

    The steady rain and the veil of darkness

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