episode one
episode two
episode three
episode four
episode five
episode six
episode seven
episode eight
episode nine
episode ten
episode eleven
episode twelve
Episode Thirteen
Before she was known as Bessie Schulman, Morty Schulman’s ex-wife was a member of a very prestigious Jewish family greatly admired and respected for its longevity in the business community of several nations. As a young man her father Adam was living on Long Island’s gold coast when he met and married Miriam Slocum of Tel Aviv, Israel, joining two retail conglomerates in a merger that was financially fortuitous for everyone concerned.
Although their daughter was born into riches from her earliest days she was not terribly good looking and no one knew this better than the child herself. Still as the only girl and the oldest in a family of three to attend university, she had to excel in her grades and after graduation, find herself a wonderful Jewish husband. When it was discovered that she was deflowered by an Irish-Catholic senior at Yale where she was also a senior, in a rage her father told her she was less than the family deserved and eventually she believed him.
At age twenty-three, pressured by her mother who she simply adored, after numerous dental appointments she finally had her teeth resurfaced to look perfect. In the Netherlands she underwent Rhinoplasty, a chin implant, breast augmentation, and finally some heavy-duty hair plugs were put in place making her the recipient of very thick and luxurious head of sandy brown hair. When completed she was rewarded with a trip to Tel Aviv to show off her new looks with her mother.
On an afternoon of shopping, a trip which she chose to skip, a bus traveling behind their car exploded killing her aunt, uncle, and her mother. That day Constance Elizabeth Roth stopped believing in God and took her life into her own hands.
A year later when her father made it clear that he would not put up with her mourning any longer, his remarks sent Connie packing. For years she eluded detectives hired to find her, until her father gave up and took her out of his will.
One afternoon, she dressed in a tight sweater, short skirt, donned a blonde wig, and met Morty Schulman in a dingy Florida pawn shop where he worked the counter while booking numbers. She pawned some of her more expensive jewelry, convincing Morty Schulman to give her top dollar. Taken by her confident manner, Morty began flirting with her in earnest.
He wasn’t a handsome man, but he was macho and Morty made her feel completely cherished so that in no time the two started living together. Morty insisted the wig had to go and when she bleached her sandy brown hair to blonde, he took her everywhere introducing her as the woman he planned to marry and live with forever.
A year later she read that her family’s share of the jewelry business was sold by her brothers at quite a profit. After posting letters pathetic enough to earn a response from her guilt-ridden brothers, she secretly made a visit and brought back a very hefty cashier’s check knowing that was the last money she’d ever receive from her family.
Presenting some of the cash to Morty she pretended that it was the proceeds from a less than legal sale which he was better off not knowing about. Next the two quickly decided to move back to Morty’s home state. Possessing several pieces of identification she had made in Florida using her long-dead Aunt Bessie’s real information, she married Morty and they took ownership of a failing pawn shop in downtown Atlanta.
Morty’s friends old and new were hardly from the upper crust, but they were colorful and as Bessie Schulman, Connie Roth had to admit she always enjoyed being the smartest person in the room. When Morty realized that she had a wonderful head for business, she became his eyes and ears and he became the “go to guy,” in Atlanta, always aware that his Bessie was the reason for his success.
Living over the pawnshop, it was now Bessie who handled the day to day activities and soon the shop became profitable every month. The time Morty spent gambling grew but unlike most gamblers, he held onto his winnings and with Bessie’s suggestions and efforts they built a financially-sound life. Once in their new home paid for in cash and owned in Bessie’s name, she began decorating and having friends over who always included low-ranking mob figures, high-class call girls and some great second-story people.
Considering how good she was to Morty during all those years, he should have stayed true to her and not come to bed smelling of other women’s perfumes. She hated being touched when he was under the influence as their sex life became distasteful and totally demeaned her.
Soon all Morty’s apologies fell on deaf ears. After she caught him with yet another woman, Bessie threw him out, filed for divorce and with Morty living over the pawn shop, she began the process of starting over.
Close friends, working girls she knew through Morty, took her to a gay bar to celebrate her 48th birthday and although Bessie protested that evening changed her life. The relationships she established from then on while not conflict-free were honest and revealed her more authentic love nature.
Her reverse transition back to Connie Roth began when she started attending some very uptown gay social clubs. Amidst the ambiance she enjoyed she was introduced to intelligent companions who shared her educational background, her opinions and her ambitions.
In the beginning one companion was responsible for her language studies and helped her with her wardrobe, while others shared party dates and attended other gay-friendly events with her. One who came later on was responsible for sharing the news of an opening at an international firm that she felt certain could use Connie’s knowledge of antiques and her outstanding language and people skills.
Flown to London for the interview, Connie was hired by Teague Enterprises to handle the sale and procurement of estates around the world for a very no-nonsense employer. That opportunity fueled Connie’s full transition and after a year she rewarded herself with a cruise that introduced her to the one she‘d waited for all of her life.
It was the sound of Brenda’s voice that brought Connie back to the present day and out of her reverie as she put on her jacket and headed out for their daily walk.
“Lately you toss and turn a great deal during the night,” said Brenda holding Connie’s hand on a glorious sunny mid-morning, while walking the property they shared together in Inverness, Canada.
“Sorry sweetheart, sometimes my brain doesn’t want to shut off. I guess I want to be sure I’ve dotted all the I’s and crossed all the T’s so that we begin our joint enterprise with nothing in our way,” said Connie.
“Let’s head back and I’ll make us some lunch,” said Brenda.
“You go ahead, I need to walk a bit longer,” said Connie.
“Okay I’ll wait for you at home and then we’ll have lunch,” said Brenda.
For Connie nothing she did these last few days brought her any sense of happiness. Brenda was kinder and gentler than ever and they had money with the potential for lots more, but a sense of uneasiness seemed to follow Connie in the form of frightening dreams that replayed themselves each night.
In her sleep she continued going over the details that consumed so much of her waking time over the last few months. She knew there was no time to cover any mistakes that could put the police on her trail.
It was all so easy until Nathan March’s people entered the investigation in Atlanta. After spending time reading about the man whose team of investigators now occupied the Dickenson Estate, she realized that being careful in pulling together the last sequences she needed completed was not going to be easy. Nathan March was a man with a level of perception that was nothing short of spooky.
Adding to her worries was the fact that her neighbor in Inverness had spoken about bumping into a handsome male visitor who asked about her. When Brenda questioned Connie about him she lied saying it was a friend from Teague Enterprises, to save Brenda from having any concerns.
The part of her that was still very much Bessie Schulman, told her that by now Nathan March had discerned that there was only one murderer involved in the Atlanta fracas and that meant the police knew it too. Without a doubt he‘d probably put some of the pieces together perfectly but not all of them would come to him, she had been too smart in handling everything, or so she believed.
Months before her death, Collette Dickenson had selected Teague Enterprises to send their best procurement agent to confidentially put together a bid for the Dickenson Estate. The bid was to include all contents and assets of the estate as well as those in several guest quarters scattered around the property. Everything was confidential so that Collette didn’t unnerve her staff by alerting them ahead of time that she intended to move elsewhere, leaving them all behind.
On her second week as she sat at the desk of Lena Phelps using Teague’s databases to compare the itemized antiques and other valuable household assets with their current fixed value, Constance Roth noticed the increased agitation of the lady physic each evening as she arrived for her confidential work.
By now it was clear that Ms. Dickenson had very recently developed a drinking problem and her frequent state of inebriation made her careless enough to forget each evening that someone just outside her office door was capable of hearing her conversations with very little effort on their part.
It wasn’t hard to put together the idea that the lady hadn’t been honest in her dealings with her clients, or her lawyer. From her position Connie heard Ms. Dickenson describe in great detail, sometimes at the top of her lungs, how miserable she could make certain lives with the information she had on them.
Connie’s love interest, the very married Brenda Mayhill, knew nothing of the fact that Connie was now working for the same person Brenda’s husband Douglas Mayhill worked for, making it easy for her to gently prod Brenda about her husband’s current work load.
Brenda’s concern for her husband was quite evident. Doug told her that Collette was on thin ice with his law firm, and if she didn’t change her behavior which he found abhorrent, she’d be looking for another firm to represent her.
One evening Connie took advantage of Collette’s absence from her office, and cautiously entered it. Immediately she saw the laptop and with one keystroke she was into Collette’s last open document. Seconds later she was scanning client files shocked at what she read there. Later that night at home in her leased apartment in Macon, Connie Roth knew she had stumbled into Collette’s real source of income.
As fate would have it, Connie was given two more chances to peruse Collette’s computer files. She learned that Micro SD cards containing audio of client appointments existed. Later she discovered the name of an out-of-state bank, which she felt was probably where they were being kept.
Collette’s signature on documents ready to be mailed by her secretary Lena the next day, was copied for the purposes of practicing it over and over again, until duplicating it live was possible. Connie used a paper clip to unlock the center draw in the desk allowing her access to the ring of keys Collette left in the top draw. Her identity as Bessie Schulman allowed a shady locksmith friend to teach her how to make an impression of the distinct and small safety deposit key using mold clay, and using that copy he made her a duplicate.
Once done Connie Roth needed an exit from the estate that would seem reasonable to her employers. The rent-a-cops at the gate may have been unable to accurately describe her, however she’d come dangerously close to meeting Collette’s secretary and Douglas Mayhill, more than once and didn’t care to be identified by anyone when future events unfolded.
She didn’t need to worry very long as Teague Enterprises informed Connie by phone the next week that Collette Dickenson had abruptly changed her mind and decided not to sell her estate after all. All documentation of her work was immediately turned over to Teague by a jubilant Connie Roth, who was sure it was a sign that everything was going to go according to her plans.
From all she had overheard, Connie felt certain that Collette Dickenson deserved to be murdered by any number of people who were victims of her phony physic abilities. In fact, she was sure lots of people would consider her death an answer to prayer.
Back again to playing Bessie in order to re-establish her business relationship with Morty, she was in and out of the estate, using the secret passage way Morty had learned of from Armand Oulette.
In order to allow illegal booze to be received and stored for the pleasure of the Estate’s owners and guests during the roaring twenties, a secret entrance was created and concealed by a metal door that was surfaced with a brick face in order to match the brick exterior wall surrounding the property. The entrance was not just cleverly designed it was utterly undetectable. With the press of a well hidden button, it opened to a passageway that led to an interior wall behind the butler’s pantry.
Back then it gave the younger members of the estate easy access to the outdoors after dark to enjoy their youthful inclinations. Armand bragged to Morty about using it to score with the ladies because just outside the butler’s pantry was another staircase to the upstairs bedrooms and another staircase off of it that led to the large attic, for total privacy.
She knew the location of Collette’s bedroom at the very end of the second floor, and had secretly entered it twice to be sure she could do so unimpeded. Reading her prescription bottles there, Connie learned that Collette now took pills to sleep. Using that to her advantage made it easy to inject a huge dose of insulin into Collette’s sleeping body without being observed. The hard part was waiting the time it took to kill her after which Connie used a stethoscope to be sure there was no heartbeat. Just for good measure, she even took a hand mirror placing it in front of Collette’s mouth to be sure she was dead. It was afterward that she slit Collette’s throat hoping to send the police in circles, looking for two assailants.
Morty had informed his Bessie that Armand would be attending the reading of the will at Doug Mayhill’s law firm. Unfortunately, from the beginning Connie had marked Doug Mayhill for death to put his wife Brenda permanently into her life.
It was the occasion of the reading of Collette’s will that Connie used to present herself to Douglas Mayhill as Bessie Schulman, telling him by telephone about the SD Cards, that had come into her possession, as well as Collette’s laptop and Lena’s Master List.
She told him to bring her a really good offer and he could take possession of it all, agreeing to bring him several SD Cards and Lena’s Master List, that very night. The poor guy was so thrilled to have the chance to keep Collette’s trusting clients from paying blackmail that he agreed to meet her later in the evening just outside the estate.
The expression on Doug Mayhill’s face was priceless when Connie pressed the button and the door made to look like part of the exterior brick wall, opened and the passageway into the estate was exposed. Leading him into the library on the first floor, Connie watched him attempting to read Lena’s file. With Morty’s .22 caliber hand gun sporting a silencer, she shot the lawyer as he clung to the folder containing the flash drives and Lena’s client list, and his shock at the turn of events was written all over his face. When he didn’t let go she shot him again separating him from the folder, as his mortally-wounded body flew through the library door.
Connie simply hid in the shadows waiting to get to the butler’s pantry and off the estate. Tripping in the dark, she lost a page from Lena’s master client list along with several SD cards as she nearly collided with Troy Holden, who responded to Lena’s screams on discovering Doug Mayhill’s body.
He was carrying a flashlight and seeing something on the pathway he picked it all up discovering he’d found flash drives and a single piece of paper that appeared to be a list. Connie judged that she couldn't shoot him and retrieve the information without getting caught, so she fled off of the estate.
During several anonymous phone calls she tried to get Troy to admit he had Collette’s SD cards, but he wouldn’t admit it. She felt certain from the arrogant tone in his voice that he had listened to them and knew at the very least they were valuable. After two days she offered him money for them, Troy agreed to meet with her that night.
Access to the estate after dark by now was no challenge for Connie as she stood on top of the estate’s brick wall at its lowest point, dressed completely in black, waiting for Troy Holden who was told she’d be parked outside the main gate. It wasn’t long before he began to pass her position. With all her strength she hit him with a stone marker, and he fell trying desperately to recover his footing. Terrified, Connie climbed down and struck his head again, until the sight of his skull bones and the smell of blood, told her he was dead.
A search of his dead body revealed he’s lied to her. He wasn’t carrying anything in his pockets but his wallet with his license, sixty dollars and two photos of him and a young woman in it. Now nearly hysterical she knew she had to find them. So she went to the address on the license.
Troy’s greedy girlfriend and her sister didn’t understand that it was Connie who was determined to make a fortune from Collette’s well-established enterprise, not the two witless wonders occupying Troy’s old apartment. A desperate Connie initiated yet another identity. As Mona Kline she acted the role of their ditsy soon to be neighbor and ask them to show her around the neighborhood as she was new to the area.
Stopping for wine and pizza for which she paid, they headed for the Hart apartment. More than slightly inebriated, the Hart sisters insisted on visiting Jenny’s rooftop hide-a-way for the last time. At the moment it was being repaired however they encouraged their new friend Mona, to use the roof during the warm months with her men friends as she didn’t have to share it with either of them because they were on their way to Vegas.
Once she had them back in their apartment, chloroform was placed on two rags and each girl was forced to hold one to their own mouths while Connie stood by an open window in their apartment, holding a gun on them both until they collapsed. She was glad they only cried and begged for a few minutes before the chloroform took effect, because the younger one nearly got to her.
Morty had taught her how even experts used flammable materials on site, to feed a fire. Walking away from the building while it burnt out of control, the heavy smoke and even the jagged cut on her finger from the door to the roof, didn’t diminish the feeling of triumph she felt as she felt for the SD cards Troy once promised to her, and they now were safe in her pocket.
The comments typed into the files on Collette’s laptop told Connie that Collette originally played her sessions back for her unsuspecting clients proving to each of them that her allegations against them were factual and could be confirmed in their own voices. Connie learned that seven victims were paying Collette to keep their lives from being destroyed.
All of the information in her possession guaranteed a profitable blackmailing enterprise for decades to come. First the cross-referenced client list gave her all the client names. Then there was a Micro SD Card for each client’s sessions with her with all the personal information Connie needed about each client, as well as the amount of money they could part with each month.
However, those SD Cards, on which other clients disclosed secrets in their own voices, needed to be retrieved from the Palm Beach Bank. She knew that meant paying the bank a visit as Collette Dickenson, before anyone in Atlanta learned that there was a safety deposit box in Florida. As for the bank itself, until the fees for the safety deposit box were due, no action would be taken that would alert them of Collette’s death.
Staying calm and collected as she forged Collette’s signature, once left alone inside a private room , she switched blank SD Cards for the dozens that were in the safe deposit box. She managed it all without any distress, but spilt the contents of her stomach several times, on the road back to Atlanta.
The myth that the mob gave Morty the down payment for the heist he and Armand were going to pull off, was totally accepted by the police. Non-payment became the motive for both their deaths, confirmed when the police verified Armand’s $100,000.00 deposit in a Brazilian bank back home.
They assumed that Morty gave up Armand‘s hiding place to save himself. Luckily, they were unaware that Morty had built a small empire in real estate around Atlanta and could have used it to buy his way out of any trouble with the mob. The police fully bought the fact that after Armand’s death, Morty was killed because his deal to share the proceeds with the mob went south.
The truth was that it was his ex-wife who offered Morty the money to give Armand the down payment in cash, for one third of Collette’s assets which were being hidden away up in the attic in a clever plot to milk the estate for a total of two and a half million dollars. Without Bessie’s stabilizing influence in his life, unreasonable greed had seriously diminished Morty’s already faulty ethics. His need to risk other people’s money instead of his own, led him to take her offer, and make Bessie a partner.
Morty didn’t know a lot of things about his Bessie anymore including the fact that she’d kept lots more than $100,000.00 in a wall safe in the home they‘d once shared together.
Knowing how Collette’s blackmailing scheme all worked and rejoicing in the fact that all the information was now hers, she hired a young mobster who often free-lanced to commit a mob-style hit on both Armand and Morty. Three days later an anonymous phone call she made to the wife of that young hit man had his father-in-law, a high-placed mobster, reward his son-in-law’s infidelities disclosed in that phone conversation, with a bullet to his brain.
She hated the fact that there was collateral damage she couldn’t avoid such as Doug Mayhill, Troy Holden, and the Hart sisters but on the other hand, for a small investment Connie as Bessie, had several moral reprobates removed from the face of the earth, and more than tripled her investment in no time. More clients who‘s past made them perfect for blackmail, would become her nest egg as she continued to live her public life as Connie Roth, partner to Bessie Mayhill of Inverness, Canada.