NOONE
Smoke and Mirrors
Noone sat in his chair with his feet on the hassock. It was after midnight and he had turned off all his lights in the apartment including any electronics with LED lights and made sure the drapes were fully closed, this was as dark as he could make it inside the rooms. At times he liked to sit in the dark and just think, he found comfort and safety in the dark. Tonight he had an ulterior motive, somehow he was sure Marchant and entered and then left his apartment without leaving a trace of being there, except for the lid of the hassock. What if he also had a surveillance system that no one was aware of, so he could spy on them as well? That would make even more sense, but what type and where, Noone had never seen any indication of any. Even though it would not have been something he expected, given his reason for coming there, he chided himself for missing the clues for so long.
Noone’s uncle had taught him better than that, and even more so his original handler so many years ago. Noone hadn’t allowed himself to contemplate either man for many years, he had found that kind of reminiscing generally unproductive. But tonight here in the darkness with no known overt threat to himself, why not allow himself this rare opportunity to languish in those long ago memories for just a small span of time. This gave Noone a rare inner smile.
He pondered what Robert and William Nesbitt would think, if they were still alive and they weren’t, about where this one time Texas Panhandle redneck boy was now? No one but he knew that he was born William Joseph Nesbitt son of William Robert Nesbitt and Becky Parker on a farm by Hedge Coat Pass near Coyote Bluff, along the Tascosa Road just northwest of Amarillo Texas.
*****
Noone was called Billy Joe back then, his father was known to most people as Billy Bob and Billy Bob’s brother was called Bobby Joe, short for Robert Joseph. Noone’s mother was Becky Parker and she was a great granddaughter of Quanah Parker who had been a famous Comanche war chief in Texas and Oklahoma. Becky had been very proud of that and so was Billy Joe. Noone’s father was a farmer and rancher. His uncle worked in construction in Amarillo but lived on a ranch about a mile and half away from Noone’s family. The Nesbitt boys as his father and uncle had been called when they were younger, were both ex-marines who had served in Vietnam. They had both also played football for their high school team and both had participated in rodeos as teenagers and as a calf roping team as adults. Noone’s Grandfather, W.R. “TURQ” Nesbitt lived south of Amarillo and had also been a Marine during World War Two serving in the First Marine Division on Guadalcanal, just as his father (J.R.) had done before him in the First Battalion Fifth Marine Regiment at Belleau Wood, France during World War One. It had become a family joke back then that the Nesbitt’s were a family of “Grunts”.
As a boy Noone had enjoyed the stories of his great grandpa J.R. in France fighting hand to hand with fixed bayonets, forced marching 10 kilometers at night to fight and get back a place in the front line lost by the French forces. Then at some hill named Hill 142 being told by the French commander to retreat and the Marine Major saying “Retreat hell we just got here”, and winning the battle. His grandpa wasn’t called Turq because of his name like the others but because he had lost an eye on Guadalcanal and when he healed enough for a glass eye the doctors there were out of blue ones so they put a green one in. Grandpa never had it changed to a blue one either saying it went better with the turquoise ring he liked to wear. So people just started calling him Turq and grandpa liked that too. Noone’s dad and uncle would talk about the jungles and mountains around DaNang and Hue. The sights of Puff the Magic Dragon spitting bullets out of miniguns with every fifth one being a tracer making it look like a stream of fire or the real fire when the planes plastered an area with Napalm. Noone’s mom and aunt would just hush them up and say they were just glad they had made it home in one piece.
Everything had been just fine until Noone “Billy Joe” was eleven years old. That was the year his parents were killed in Amarillo. Noone’s father and uncle had taken first place for calf roping at the yearly Amarillo rodeo. Amarillo was known in some circles at time as “Little Chicago” because of the amount of gang and criminal activity going on in the Texas Panhandle city. It was suspected later that there was one of these types of person who lost a lot of money gambling on the event with a bookie. The facts were that Billy Joe had went home with his uncle’s family that night so his mom and dad could celebrate. About 3:00 in the morning deputies of the Potter County Sheriff’s Department pulled their car into his uncle’s gravel driveway and woke Uncle Bobby Joe up. Even though the deputies were as sensitive as they could be “Uncle Bobby” was losing it and might have gotten arrested except for the fact that when he saw his nephew come up along beside him, Uncle Bobby turned his attention to Billy Joe instead, hugging the eleven year old close.
No real leads were ever found as to who shot them both, sitting in their car in the parking lot of a dance club out near Dumas Junction. By the time other patrons heard the shots and got outside all they could say was a dark sedan was speeding away up the street, and no one saw the license plate numbers.
After six years of Noone living with his supporting uncle, aunt and two cousins, Noone did what every other Nesbitt man did, 4 days after graduation from high school he went off to Marine Corps boot camp in San Diego, California. He was already a deadly shot with any firearm thanks to his dad and uncle, could hunt and fish just as well as any man anywhere and was well versed in the skills of cooking what he killed and surviving on his own if he needed to. But he was no longer that happy young boy of eleven. He was quiet and studious sometimes almost brooding. He had played sports like all his friends and cousins, but his heart was more into the hunting than sports. He was good at science and math, but didn’t gain any scholarships to anywhere mainly because he hadn’t applied for any. His goal had been to be a Marine like his dad, uncle and grandfathers.
Billy Joe (later to call himself Noone) had been told all his life what Marine Corps boot camp was like, so he was neither surprised nor unprepared for the experience. When he did get a small sense of surprise was the week his series was at the rifle range. He had expected it to be more difficult. During the days of qualifying he easily made expert ranking and one of his instructors commented to him that day.
“Recruit Nesbitt?” the man said while Billy Joe was waiting for the target to rise again with his shot marked in the target.
“Yes sergeant.”
“Do you never miss the bull’s eye?”
“How could I Sergeant? It’s so big and we are not that far away.”
“Big, Marine and that’s the full course away. Don’t you see some of your fellow recruits getting Maggie’s drawers?”
“I do Sergeant, but maybe they never shot a rifle before. My father taught me to always keep the target small and miss smaller. Besides it not moving, it might be a little harder if it was.”
“Moving? How long have you been using a weapon son and who was your father, Davy Crocket?”
“We Nesbitt’s get our first 22 rifle at age 7, sergeant. And my Dad was Billy Bob Nesbitt a former Marine during Vietnam, he and my uncle Bobby Joe served. So did gramps in World War Two at Guadalcanal with the first MarDiv and great gramps in Belleau Wood in 1918 in the first battalion 5th Marine regiment. The Nesbitt’s are a grunt family, sergeant”
“Do all of them shoot like you recruit?””
“No sir, gramps was a lot better than me by a long shot.”
On graduation day from boot camp, Billy Joe had been made guideon for the platoon which meant he and the four squad leaders were promoted to private first class that day. The next day they were on buses to ITR and Bobby Joe went to grunt school.
After six more weeks in ITR Billy Joe was going to get to go home on his first leave before coming back to Camp Pendleton, he had been selected for Forced Recon school, he had also been a squad leader in his platoon during ITR and as unusual as it was for that he was promoted to Lance Corporal.
He remembered those three weeks leave with pride, Uncle Bobby was very proud and his two cousins were busting at the seams to graduate so they could join up for their time.
Forced Recon school was intense and about half of the Marines who started it dropped out before finishing. Lance Corporal Nesbitt finished it and was assigned his unit, shortly thereafter his unit was deployed to Panama.
Two years later while on an individual dark assignment in central Africa with an “information officer” he had been assigned to twice before, a Mr. Damon Raythe, Sergeant Nesbitt was approached by Mr. Raythe to join “The Agency”. After much discussion Sergeant Nesbitt agreed, even though it meant he would be listed as killed in a rescue mission officially. His uncle or no one could ever know he was not dead.
Many operations, twenty seven months and two days after that CIA operatives; William Joseph Nesbitt, Damon Raythe and two others were killed in multiple high intensity explosions and a resulting major jungle fire in the deep interior of Columbia. The Columbian Military found disassociated charred body parts from many more than four individuals but none of them could be identified in what the Columbians believed to be a clash between different drug cartels.
Eight months later Casper Ghould took his first private contract for a mining company in South Africa.
*****
It had been a long time since Noone had indulged himself this way and it would probably be a long time before he did again. Getting up from his chair Noone walked to where he could make out the time on his alarm clock on the night stand beside his bed. It was now 2:30 am, surely even Marchant was asleep now. Very stealthily Noone began to search his own apartment; wall by wall, item by item. There had to be a clue here somewhere if what he believed to be true was true , he just had to ferret out what was hidden. He knew he needed to do this in the most absolute dark he could, using all the skills at his disposal, just in case Marchant was still awake or recording by some hidden camera, he had to be unseen in his quest.
Around 4:30 am and before the first glints of dawn would creep in, Noone adjusted his drapes and blinds to their normal positions. He then returned to his chair and catnapped until his usual time to awaken. This day would start as if he had simply fallen asleep in his chair last night.
*****
In the time since their last conversation with Noone, Wendy and William were busy researching deeply into every aspect of Marchant and the maintenance man, Stan Oliver.
“Whoa, Wendy look here this adds a new wrinkle to this Stan Oliver.”
After looking at the screen William had on his computer long enough to be sure, she turned to William with a wry look on her face.
“Are you sure this is the same Oliver?”
“I’m as sure it’s the real one as I can be right now. The boss needs to hear this, but I have to double check on when the fake one enters the picture.”
“Yeah and let me go dig into some correlating data on this too.”
*****
Two days later Noone was sitting in the green area again when he saw Mandy Johnson pushing little Danna’s stroller approaching him.
“Good Morning Mandy. How is Danna today, enjoying her walk in the sunshine I hope?”
“Hi Noone, yes she is and so am I, thank you for asking.” Mandy smiled at Noone initiating a conversation with her this morning. He had never done that as she remembered.
“I am glad to hear that, it is a warm calm day for a walk where there is green grass and trees.”
“Yes it is, I just wish there was a real park close by. Maybe with a sand box and swings for toddlers so we could stop and let her actually play outside in the good weather once in a while.”
“Now that would be fun for her. Mandy, would you mind if I came to your apartment later when you are not busy? There have been some complaints about possible mold in the closets. I haven’t found any mind you, but I would just like to check yours and be sure.”
“For sure, Noone I would appreciate it if you did. How would it be if you did that tonight after I get home from work? I would even make you dinner, if you would let me?”
“You don’t need to do that. I wouldn’t want to impose on you.”
“It’s no imposition at all. I would enjoy it. How about 7:00, then?”
“Okay, if you insist. I will be there and thank you.”
“I’ll see you then.” Mandy said and started to walk on down the walk a little sprightlier than when she walk up to Noone.
That night Noone was at Mandy Johnson’s apartment at 7:00 sharp. The dinner was fine, Mandy was a good cook. They chatted about the building some but more about Danna. After their meal was finished Noone helped her clear the table and as she washed the dishes he looked around inside her closet.
“Did you find anything Noone?”
“No nothing to worry about, everything is fine. The woman who called it in must just be overly sensitive to something else. I am sorry to have worried you about it.”
“There was no worry and I enjoyed your company tonight.”
“I did too, thank you for inviting me up. I better go now though, we both have work tomorrow.”
“Yes unfortunately we do. I’ll see you later Noone.”
“Good night Mandy.” With that Noone opened the apartment door and closed it behind him. He heard Mandy turn the lock as he started walking away.
Inside Mandy rather wished he had stayed a little longer as she turned to pick up Danna and breast feed her before putting her down to sleep.
*****
Marchant leaned back exasperated at his console and then laughed out loud. Thinking to himself once again at how stupid Noone was. There he had been in Mandy Johnson’s apartment, having dinner and didn’t even make one veiled hint or gesture that he would be receptive to knowing her better. Now there she sat on her sofa holding that little girl to her breast, what an idiot Noone was.
When Mandy was done feeding the little girl. Marchant changed the monitor to scan other cameras in other apartments. That was all the excitement there would be in apartment 212 this night.
*****
The next day Noone made sure that Mandy Johnson had returned from her walk with Danna and then left again before he went to the green area nearby.
Once he was seated on the bench there he called Wendy and William.
“Wendy, here.”
“It’s me Wendy. Have you two found anymore out yet?”
“We have, Boss and some of it leads to even more questions than answers.”
“Such as what exactly.”
Wendy gave the phone to William so he could start with what they had found.
“Boss, its William. That guy who’s impersonating Richard Marchant is not the real Stan Oliver of that we are now sure. But who he really is, is not clear yet.”
“How can you be sure he’s not Stan Oliver?”
“The Stan Oliver who that social security number belongs to died twenty years ago. He was a young boy on vacation from Atlanta with his parents in the Bahamas and drowned swimming in the ocean. They think he got caught in a hard undertow and was pulled out to Deep Ocean. His body was never recovered and he was presumed dead by drowning. The family could only hold a memorial service several months later and after the seven year wait to get a death certificate the Mother wouldn’t hear of it, she kept hoping one day he would show up, but he never did. They never informed social security, so it was an active number and still is.”
“Okay, there is more I assume.”
Now Wendy got on the phone. “There is Casper. The number was first used a couple of years before this fake Oliver went to work for Marchant. Both times it was there in Chicago as a maintenance man at two other apartment complexes. Both times it was only a short time though, like he was looking for something.” Then Wendy stopped and handed the phone back to William.
“Boss I did some cross checking in the police systems shared by major departments and what I found was some other unsolved missing persons reports that seem to have some possible similarities to what you explained to us. Now it’s nothing concrete, wouldn’t even make a cop blink or be taken as evidence anywhere, but I caught what I think might be a pattern.
“What’s that then, William?”
“I think this guy whoever he is moves from city to city every ten years or maybe less. Then he very cautiously grabs young women or couples from apartment complexes on the low side of income for some purpose. Now maybe he is a pervert, serial killer, or something else, that I don’t know. But whatever it is, Casper, if I am right, then he is due for another move and soon.”
“This is more than I expected exactly, but it does appear to fit in with what I’m finding here. I know he has some type of hidden passages between the apartments and I’m also sure he has hidden cameras in the bases of ceiling lights that look like manufacturers logos. Now I think the passages have entrances through the closets, but I can’t prove that yet. What I think is. I want you two to come here, pose as a young couple and rent an apartment in my building, I know one is coming up in a couple of weeks”
“Sure boss, but can I ask why we are getting involved, if you don’t mind me asking. You could just take our suspicions to that detective you talked about.”
“Pride mostly William, I am sorry to say, Pride.” Noones tone was flat and hard. “I have been in this building for three years and was oblivious to what was going on. Besides we don’t have one solid lead or piece of evidence, yet. Depending on what we do finally find I may want to solve it ourselves in our usual way.”
“Okay with us, Casper, we’ll both be there in a few days.”
“Good, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you both.” With that they both disconnected the call.
