Murder In Ogunquit
A Novel
By
Robert A. Chapin
Copyright July, 2011
Smashwords Edition
This book has been revised on September 7, 2011
To my loyal readers and future customers: I originally assumed when this book was submitted for publication it was checked for errors and ready for insertion. I apologize for the inconvenience caused by inferior quality and it has been brought to my attention what was submitted was in fact a manuscript not for publication and should have been deleted from my files. It was only recently that I discovered my oversight.
I have spent many years preparing for the opportunity to share my novel’s with you, and there is no excuse for substandard or poor quality performance from this author. I apologize for the inconvenience, and it is my desire that you will read my series of free short stories here on Smashwords and Barnes & Noble.
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This book is not intended as a literal account or an exact portrayal of any persons living or dead. Obviously, it has been important to the author to protect the identity of some of the characters in this story, and for that purpose, names and descriptions have been changed.
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Ogunquit, Maine Summer, 2010
On December 12, 2005, at precisely 12:00 midnight the Ogunquit MegaComplex Resort Casino opened its doors for business. Busses from as far away as New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania and beyond were in gridlock leading to this charming New England vacation destination known as “A Beautiful Place By The Sea!”. Valet parking was frantic! Hotels were booked to sell out capacity! Restaurants were turning people away! It was absolute chaos! People with money to burn packed the betting parlors. Black Jack tables were alive with shouts and shrieks of joy and true to resort casino expectations, winners were discovered throughout the entire multiplex.
It was an extraordinary turn of events when the Abenaki Indian Nation was awarded the land and sovereignty to operate a casino in what was once again their own country. The goal was to cash in on what has become a national bringing together of Native American people to reclaim their ancestral land taken by the U.S. government in the mid 1800’s. As a result, the tribal professionals made the most of their achievement in reverence to those forced onto reservations and with an empathy and compassion set out to operate officially recognized gaming.
Their highly structured plan in addition to making a profit was to build nursing homes, a hospital, schools, fire and police complex, libraries and a multitude of construction projects. It was a wonderful period to be of Abenaki ancestry.
Opposition over legalized gambling in Maine fueled tempers for all but ten years as the Abenaki Indian Nation sued to acquire fifteen thousand acres of land. Only a meager amount of land was located in Ogunquit including The Marginal Way! The Abenaki people were allied with a dedicated partnership in the tribal elders from The Mohegan and Foxwoods gambling enterprise in Connecticut, and lobbied persuasively and forcefully for their birthright to operate a gaming multiplex in Ogunquit, Maine. Officials from Atlantic City and Las Vegas made the first move in a hostile battle with their high priced lawyers making use of every line of assault one can imagine to halt the development of the mega gambling complex.
The issue of legalized gambling in the Maine created a firestorm of debate eventually concluding in a historic decision by The United States Supreme Court in a 5 to 4 ruling in favor of granting the Abenaki Indian Nation the clear deed to fifteen thousand acres of some of the most important and valuable land on the in the state. Next, was the nasty and vicious resistance by the Maine Legislature to put a stop to the casino from being constructed on prime ocean front property in Ogunquit.
It was a nasty fight. In the Supreme Court’s ruling, it mandated all, and they specified all land within the confines of the award be turned over to the Abenaki Nation within 6 months of the ruling. The process eliminated litigation, court cases, law suits, legal actions and any other means by current landowners on The Marginal Way - the pristine waterfront overlooking the ocean.
In an unparalleled move, the Abenaki Nation would take possession of their property on the day following the six month cut-off set forth by the United States Supreme Court.
Residents were compelled to take the extremely generous cash offer and in the case of waterfront property were paid six times its value. A $2,000,000 (million dollar) piece of property was increased to $12,000,000. (million dollars).
Anyone who could authenticate their heritage of at least 16% Abenaki would share in the profits of the new casino. Underprivileged Abenaki families would receive an annual cash gift of $37,350.72 based on a complicated formula of age and ancestry. The development would employ thousands of Abenaki by heritage to work the hotels, restaurants and service establishments. The hiring of Abenaki’s was of priority, and if there were additional positions to be filled once all available Abenaki were employed, non-Abenaki (i.e.) Iriquois lineage were hired.
Most important to voters was the revenue taken in by the state lottery. In actuality, it was legalized gambling and the only benefit to the residents of Maine was a portion of the revenue was to be used to repair the infrastructure consisting of roads and bridges. There was plenty of foot dragging and blame to ‘go round.’ Bridges and roads were a disaster - not well maintained and neglected since the WPA under Roosevelt in the 1930’s. In addition to creating nothing more than another state operated bureaucracy, political cronyism was unchecked!
The lottery created so many “no show” positions that in excess of fifty million dollars was wasted annually prompting an audit. The gambling public was outraged at the payout odds in the state lottery. The addiction hotline was inundated with calls from habitual gamblers.
It was misleading and unclear when on the reverse side of the scratch ticket and posted at the betting kiosks, the odds were always calculated (for example: 1 in 987,657-½). This would imply that in order to have the slightest chance at winning, one would have to be a ½ person - and that was the vicious fly in a circle! Casino’s on the other hand had a huge overhead to meet, and in order to keep the doors open their odds were calculated so that 1 in 10 players would win in any given visit. There was no doubt that a casino would also present the same problem of people prone to overindulge.
The majority of residents were in favor of legalized gambling. It would provide plenty of good paying jobs, and was an issue to be reckoned with at election time. A lottery does not provide jobs for the masses and only favors political cronyism. Conversely, buildings, restaurants, hotels, the health care industry, police and fire, new schools, libraries, and a host of brand new employment opportunities do support the local economy!
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Ogunquit, a community with less than 1250 residents was thrust into one of the most incalculable real estate explosions in the country. Overnight, in Ogunquit and neighboring towns land values skyrocketed through the ceiling. Farmland previously advertised for $500 an acre was suddenly selling for an inflated $25,000 per acre. Not since Walt Disney developed Disney World in Orlando in the early 1960’s has the country experienced such an incredible increase in real estate. It was not uncommon for one hundred acre tracts of land located 10-20 miles inland purchased by farmers following WWII, and in the early 1950’s for $24.00 an acre ($2,400) suddenly selling for 2.5 million dollars - and that was just the beginning!
McDonalds, Burger King, Arby’s, The Olive Garden, The Outback - just about every major restaurant chain was in a bidding war. Their establishments were architecturally designed to blend into New England’s natural environment. The complex was to duplicate Rodeo Drive (pronounced Ro-day-o) and Worth Avenue. Tiffany and Company, and major retailers were in aggressive competition. Cadillac and European auto makers desired to be represented.
As a result, Bentley and Rolls Royce submitted designs. Overnight, the local Chevrolet dealer on the brink of bankruptcy 6 months earlier was suddenly selling cars by the dozen(s) to the casinos. The struggling car dealer sold in excess of 250 top of the line SUV’s and Corvettes in the first 3 months of casino activity. It was a financial shot in the arm necessary to bring businesses back into the black.
With passage of the resolution, the Abenaki Indian Nation wasted little time, and with assistance from The Foxwoods Casino developing a massive state of the art complex. Every major hotel chain including Marriott, Hilton, and Hyatt Regency were in a bidding frenzy for the right to be the anchor’s to the new Ogunquit MegaComplex Resort Casino housing the 4,000 room Ogunquit Inter-Continental operated by their parent multinational firm, The Mark Hopkins in San Francisco. Eventually, the 2200 room Hilton International won the bidding. In all, 6200 rooms were available within five blocks of prime beachfront property. This was going to be the largest gambling complex in the world!
One private parking lot adjoining the casino with space for 200 vehicles sold to the casino for five-million-dollars! The real estate tax base, increased from $8,802,465 (million dollars) annually in 2010 was proposed to be $34,489,860 (million dollars) when construction was completed and new homes assessed.
Land mass prohibited Ogunquit from sustaining through the ceiling growth brought about by the invasion and arrival of thousands of new employees. The Ogunquit casino development was projected to employ 62,423 new residents in support roles. With the town unable to absorb the deluge of new homes it was spread out through the neighboring towns of York, North and South Berwick, Kennebunk, Kennebunk Port, Wells, Wells Beach, Elliott, Kittery, and Portsmouth, New Hampshire.
Real estate brokers and sales representatives couldn’t locate vacant land quickly enough on which to build the magnitude of new homes. Farmers cashed in on parcels upon which tracts of homes numbering into the hundreds were quickly becoming mini-cities.
Pulte Homes, the developer of Dell Webb communities throughout the country purchased thousands of acres upon which they constructed 12,000 homes in the various adjoining towns. In nearby Portsmouth, New Hampshire, R.M. Jenna Homes of Florida sold 13,254 homes in their first phase of construction, and when the additional phases were offered, it was not uncommon for builders to increase their prices by 10% to 15%. Ordinarily, homes are sold first - then built, in this situation a builder would construct 500 - 1,000 homes and they sold out within 30 days!
Throughout the upsurge, Ogunquit didn’t suffer for lack of land. Although it only has 4.10 square miles, it was able to support approximately four times the current growth. The population swelled from 1260 to 4856 winter residents and residential real estate tax increased from $8,802,465 (million dollars) to $34,489,860 (million dollars). They town did manage to construct 2700 new single family dwellings. With the rapid growth the town was faced with a dilemma. In order to support the Abenaki Indian proposal, the Ogunquit town council worked an arrangement with the Abenaki’s to receive a fee of $12,500,000 (million dollars) annually - approximately a million dollars a month! This was considered a fair assessment considering the casino’s collected many times that in profits in one day.
The Abenaki Nation would pay for all increases in police and fire protection, schools, hospitals, waste water, road, and any and all municipal fees associated with a growing city.
With approximately $34,489.860 (million dollars) in real estate tax revenue annually and the additional $12,500,000 (million dollar) fee paid by the Abenaki Tribe, the town’s only responsibility would be for increased (office) manpower.
The strategy was one of the most brilliant ever developed in the gaming industry. Geographically, with Canada only three hours away, and the American dollar trading at an incredible 21 percent in favor of the Canadians, the Abenaki Nation made its own rules - and of greater benefit was a “no tax” clause. This brought Canadian busses by the hundreds and the parking lots accounted for another 45% of cars from Quebec and Montreal Provinces.
Conversely, in an effort to draw the U.S. “greenbacks” casino’s offered a one time “tax free” event to the Americans as well. For a period of the first 30 days, all winnings were “tax free.” The casino’s paid all applicable taxes over and above the jackpots. Canadians and Europeans however, remained in a constant tax free category.
The proposal focused on the 10,000 slots which accounted for 75% of all gaming revenue. Each night for 29 nights -somewhere in the vast sea of gamblers, (1) one arm bandit would pay a spectacular tax free jackpot of $1,000,000 (million dollars). The method worked so well that people were lined up alongside each other waiting for their good fortune at beating the odds. Ogunquit was also a town that never sleeps!
In all fair-mindedness to those who placed bets during the day and may have bet thousands of dollars, the procedure was sufficient and elaborate enough to identify winners at random. One did not need be present to claim their winnings. This system actually identified a winner by verification of the on - file fingerprint. For back-up, the method utilized the pupil-iris verification data program.
Cash advance machines were dispensing money like a drunken sailor - credit card processors taxed to their limits. It is estimated that each of the two hundred betting parlors collected tens of millions of dollars daily.
The crowning event was to take place on the 30th night with a gala finale when someone would win a tax free prize of $20,000,000 (million dollars)! In order to prevent pandemonium, every off duty police officer within 50 miles was hired to deal with the massive crowds waiting their turn at the one arm bandits. With the extremely large group of people waiting at each slot, the establishments strictly enforced the “eighteen minute” rule. To allow as many people as possible to cash in on the winnings, patrons were only allowed eighteen minutes of play.
The Gambling Association of America previously calculated that any amount of “play time” less than 10 minutes induced players to bet only quarters. Traditionally, those who exceeded 10 minutes of play more often than not bet $5.00 or higher.
There was no tolerance or lenience for cheating. At the end of 18 minutes, the machine locked down and a special fingerprint recognition device prevented the player from returning to that or any other slot machine for the next 24 hours.
If a player refused to exit his or her seat, they were safely escorted from the building. The Abenaki Tribe spent tens of millions of dollars on an elaborate security system - and it was only for the first month of operation! Anyone could bet as much as their pocketbook, wallet or ATM cash advance card would allow.
Penny, nickel and twenty-five cent slots were not offered during the initial 30 days. Then again, to be eligible for the $1,000,000 (million dollars), the rules of play were calculated so that a player had to reach $5.00 (with $1.00 minimums) before the machines would activate the million dollar formula. When the machine reached the $5.00 point it enticed the player even further by means of a voice congratulating the participant as a “finalist” in the one million dollar process and musical sounds proliferated the machine. This strategy attracted the gambler to insert more money and so on.
All players wanted a shot at the $1,000,000 (million dollars) and it was not uncommon for high rollers to load the machine with $3,000 to $10,000. Each punch of the button deducted a pre-selected amount from your total. For the super rich high rollers there were roughly 2500 slots producing about $33,000 each hour (for the casino) an average of $792,000 in a twenty four hour period. That’s just one machine! In the first week of activity, casino’s generated in excess of 1.5 billion dollars! The machines collected hundreds of thousands of dollars each hour. It was a windfall for the Abenakis and no small wonder these machines generated so much cash.
It was a bitter sweet time for the residents of Ogunquit. On one hand they were gainfully employed - and not just in Christmas tree or potato farming, but in an industry which provided benefits: Full medical and dental - eye glass coverage - prescription drugs - profit sharing - company matching funds and so much more that mom and pop employers could not offer. On the other, their quaint New England fishing village with a previous residential base of 1250 was now thrust into the most popular gaming facility in the world. Die hard advocates of the tranquil lifestyle were convinced to sell their property and settle elsewhere on the coast of Maine. With real estate skyrocketing in value, it was a seller’s market - they all made a killing.
Along with fame and success of a gambling atmosphere was the element of crime and corruption. From the very beginning, the police department worked overtime directing their attention to the flimflam characters and transients whose scheme was to pickpocket or ensnare unwary naive victims to part with their cash.
Ogunquit, Maine
“A Beautiful Place By The Sea”
The invigorating smell of the ocean waves crashing into the shoreline of The Marginal Way, was enough to temporarily erase the stress for vacationers for as long as anyone could recall.
ChemCon CEO Jack Summers was going to walk away with a severance package of enormous proportions. With retirement only weeks away, he was not far from becoming incredibly wealthy with $93,000,000 (million dollars) in compensation! 500,000 shares of ChemCon preferred stock, a six million dollar state of the art log home in Aspen. If that was not enough, there was travel on the corporate jet, use of all company facilities, and medical coverage for life.
Corporate plunder was long overdue a transformation and the American public was disgustingly dissatisfied with the flagrant and obvious misuse of financial advantage.
New Deli, India, the scene of the worse chemical disaster in the history of the planet killed fifteen thousand residents in 1982 and another 100,000 suffered a slow death sentence in the years since. The Senate conducted hearings intended to reproach the chemical giant, but the only result from formal hearings was a slap on the wrist. After all, many of those on the censure committee were on the chemical companies list of lobbyists. The company with deep pockets, and a succession of significantly compensated legal eagles used up much of their time in leather high back chairs on the 34th floor of an all glass structure manipulating the system to their advantage.
As a result of these arrogant legal bastard’s, CEO’s operated with a free-for-all attitude in bringing about desire to thrive even in the face of disaster. ChemCon’s most important principle was profitability! It was the employees whose lives were at risk.
“I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore”, made famous by Howard Beale played by Peter Finch in the 1976 movie NETWORK was the national rage and battle cry of “We The People” unhappy with the system of corporate greed.
Following a reward of ninety three million dollars, Jack Summers was about to embark on a lifestyle with money to burn. Attorneys guaranteed his exemption from liability - even though he was second in command at the time of the disaster which killed thousands.
* * *
It was a bright summer day with huge marshmallow puffy clouds. The crisp early morning New England air beckoned Jack Summers as he prepared to walk out into the mid morning sun where his wife Siara was waiting in her Escalade. She too, was contented in the lifestyle of the privileged and with complete ignorance upon which she and her husband built their ruthless fortune. They were now ready to reap the rewards.
Corporate wives were more often than not, oblivious to just how much money their husband’s earned. The 5 carat diamonds flaunted in the faces of less fortunate, their lavish lifestyle: Neiman Marcus, Nordstrom, Macy’s and Tiffany accounts was a license to overindulge with endless amounts of money. Their environmentally un-friendly status symbol - the SUV was one more image of the “my plate is full - screw you” privileged group of Rolex wearing snob bitches. Not a republican among them!
There was complete lack of interest for how and where the flow of money originated. As long as the women could spend without an accounting, they were perfectly happy to look the other way even when their husbands engaged in extra-marital relationships.
Sairah pronounced (Sarah) was a beautiful Russian blonde 20 years Jack Summers’ junior. An eye-catching beauty who didn’t come from wealth. She was employed as a cocktail waitress striving to make ends meet while waiting for the multi-million dollar settlement in the tragic deaths of her husband and daughter killed in a fiery car crash when they were hit by a drunk driver who fled the scene. Ironically, the driver ran off to Russia to avoid prosecution. It pushed her to develop a dependency on prescription drugs. Her drug of choice was Valium. She began stealing money from her register to maintain her habit. One night, while seated at the bar Jack observed as she stuffed several bills into her pocket - and not the register.
At present, Summers was married to his second wife Elena, but as long as she had possession of credit cards and the Bentley convertible she turned a blind eye to his dishonest extra marital relationships.
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With the mid morning sun summoning them on the leisurely two hour drive to The Presidential Estate, in South Berwick, they were to enjoy contentment and relaxation as guests of former President Preston Cunningham and his wife Hara. Jack Summers was also a huge contributor to The Republican Party.
It was their time. They earned a comfortable retirement, one in a world where servants swiftly moved about tending to their every need, fetching iced tea or a variety of adult beverages. A world where one has not to ask for anything. A world where meals are planned in advance and served by a staff catering to their every desire. A snack in late evening was only too obliging for the 24 hour staff to prepare a bowl of cereal or bite to eat.
They were privileged and they knew it, but also gave the impression of “in the face” attitude on the employees who made them so damn rich!
Jack Summers was 57 years old and an employee of ChemCon since the age of 27. A former lawyer for the firm, he worked his way to the top by clawing, back stabbing, and doing whatever necessary to cream his opponents. Nobody in management or the “inner circle” could be trusted. They were all from the same cut of self serving bastard’s.
One was as ruthless as the other. Summers was not only in the right place at the right time, he was chosen by the board of directors to turn ChemCon into a cash cow.
Before departing the boardroom following a short but boring “through the hoops meeting”, the 12 member panel, many who were with Jack since the beginning were jubilant over his insistence that they share in a hidden offshore fund of fifty five million dollars. It was designated as a “bonus” for their loyalty in outclassing the system by hiding the money in the Cayman Islands, and to stick it to the rank and file.
GUANTANAMO BAY CUBA
MARCH, 2010
Twenty four year old Corporal Richmond Rand, was a sharpshooter and top record holder in the U.S. Marine Corps Sniper Division. An Iraqi War veteran with most kills by a sniper (34), from a distance of a mile and a half. A special documentary on The History Channel® listed him as the only person in the U.S. military to have what are considered “mouth throat kills.”
The shooter and his assistant lying in cover at the pre-arranged distance worked in unison as Rand lined up the crosshairs at the direction of the spotter - the other person assigning the coordinates. Squeezing the trigger from one and a half miles, propelled a fatal round in less than four seconds striking with gruesome accuracy ripping into the mouth and throat of the unsuspecting victim - severing the head from spinal column. The bullet enters through the front facial area and exits through the neck shattering and disconnecting the first and second cervical. The victim suffers instant death by decapitation.
Richmond was offered an extremely large re-enlistment bonus of $75,000 to extend his tour in Iraq and $100,000 if he would extend in Afghanistan, but he had enough of the killing - so he thought! With loss of his buddies from the IED’s (improvised explosive devices), he was beginning to show signs of PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was a point of disagreement and controversy with Vietnam veterans.
Following years of research and studies on those returning from Vietnam with abnormal skin conditions and various cancers, Vietnam veterans won their class action lawsuit against Danner Chemical, and a fund was set aside. Vietnam veterans were awarded damages for their medical conditions.
It’s ironic that in the 2000 census, when asked about their military service, 4,600,000 (million) people checked the box indicating they served in Vietnam when in truth only 2,500,000 (million) actually fought in the war. In all probability because once a veteran established that he or she suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or mysterious physical injuries they were, as a rule awarded back pay of up to $25,000 and a tax free monthly pension of approximately $3000.
The average compensation for a vet suffering from PTSD in addition to Social Security is about $4500.00 per month = $54,000 tax free dollars per year. Add the medication supplied by the VA medical and dental insurance which would otherwise have to be paid by the recipient and the total annual compensation is approximately $81,000.
There is opposition to the U.S. government paying what may seem like an ridiculous amount of money - but it is what it is! The laws were sanctioned by Congress to compensate the veteran for lies and deception by the chemical company and our government claiming herbicides were not used in Vietnam, and until Congress introduces a new law reducing or eliminating the compensation - all one can say is to “call your representative!”
Vietnam veterans are now dying at the rate of 600 per day - not to mention those who take in excess of 20 pills a day just to keep ahead of the dioxin poison in their system. In exceptional cases there are veterans who swallow 40-50 prescribed medications per day!
With the greatest respect for members of all our services, This author has a deep admiration for the Marines. It should be pointed out that once a Marine enters basic training, the ultimate objective is to taste the “gunpowder” of battle. They wait stateside to be deployed to another part of the world where there is civil unrest! They train their whole career just for the opportunity to unleash the mascot Bulldog - a ferocious and aggressive killing machine within. Many leave the Marines disappointed they never fought in the battle of Khe Sahn.
To this day, the notorious identity of “The Crazy Vietnam Vet” is a dishonor associated with many veterans. Men who served a 20 year plus career in the military, but never experienced combat in Vietnam are of the assumption that they are by far, more important!
It is only through the action of a handful of Vietnam veterans in 1981 in which Congress, with the aid and support of Democratic Senator Paul Baseball, also a Vietnam veteran enacted legislation to recognize PTSD for past, present and future veterans. At long last, a difficult and obstinate public recognized the plight and sacrifice of World War II, Korean, Vietnam, The Gulf War, Iraqi, and Afghanistan veterans.
As a result of Vietnam veterans testifying before the Senate House and Appropriations Committee in the mid 1980’s, veterans from all the wars (WWI. WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan) and practically all vets from all wars, following 65 years of arguments and battle were finally awarded proper compensation.
There are those who argue as a result of the broad hand of compensatory expenditures - there will always be those who manipulate the system. Absolutely! But, you don’t see these same pessimistic souls admonishing the farm subsidy entitlements where billions of dollars are paid out every twelve months - not to grow corn, wheat, or reprimand the oil companies for their hands in the pork barrel.
With Vietnam veterans the U.S. government refused to recognize PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). However, after much debate, the Veterans Administration finally accepted it as an illness. In World War II, it was known as shell shock and many veterans ended up in insane asylums. In Korea it was commonly assumed to be combat fatigue, but it was Vietnam which forced Congress and the nation to grasp the true meaning of the disorder.
In Iraq and Afghanistan commanding generals are arranging for treatment of the illness. As a result of the recognition, the Veterans Administration was swamped with a backlog of 650,000 current applications. Now you tell me, when the attitude is “get a life,” how many of these men and women affected by PTSD as a result of fighting in The Gulf War, Iraq and Afghanistan are the big and bad Marines? Count them again!
At the existing pace it is estimated to take three years just to review an claim. It has taken the Vietnam veteran and a tireless amount of lobbying to finally persuade Congress to agree to a compensation schedule for all veterans especially the Gulf War, Iraqi and Afghan veterans. It’s not only financial compensation that has the spotlight - but the suicide and homeless veteran rate. Twenty percent of all Gulf War, Iraqi and Afghan veterans are homeless!
Richmond Rand was troubled with PTSD, but ignorant of the consequence it would play in life after the Marines. The son of a lobsterman, he was raised in the coastal seaside community of Ogunquit, Maine and raised Presbyterian. His mother a teacher of the bible, but his father was a hard drinker. When lobstering was good, their father was gentle and caring - but when the catch was not going well, life in the “ideal” house with the white picket fence frequently burst into turmoil driven by alcohol.
Ogunquit, is a charming seaside resort town of 1225 residents. In summer, the population mushroomed to thousands as vacationers the world over swamped the bed and breakfast establishments, hotels and motels. Known as “A Beautiful Place By The Sea” Ogunquit has a number of LGBT’s: (lesbians, gay, bisexual and transgender) business owners who live and operate their businesses in the village. Originally part of the town of Wells, it was incorporated a town in 1980.
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He was born Richmond Alan Rand on December 19, 1985 at Memorial Hospital in Wells, Maine - three minutes later Richard arrived. An identical twin, he and his brother are among the only people in the world who share the same DNA. Identical twins are the result of one fertile egg splitting into two identical eggs. Apart from different fingerprints and slight birthmark irregularities identical twins can be difficult from which to make a distinction.
Richmond was in trouble with the law at an early age. Nothing serious, but the kind that worried his parents, asking themselves how this Christian family could have gone wrong.
One night, he and one of his buddies broke into a liquor store and helped themselves to a bottle of Jack Daniels, and several six packs of beer. It wasn’t long before police zeroed in on the two identified by a security cameras. Richmond’s parents were furious! Barely 17, the judge gave the young man an option: three years in prison or he could join the military. Always a bit of a maverick - Richmond loved guns and chose the Marines.
Prior to entering the service, the Department of Defense required what is known as a TDIR (Twin Detection Insertion Record). Whenever an identical twin entered the military both subjects are obligated to be finger printed and a series of photographs taken to ensure the twin entering the service is in compliance with meeting the requirements avoiding any future exchange of identity. In the case of the Rand brothers they would endure a series of close - micro photos. These boys were impossible to tell apart. Fingerprints are usually proof enough to make a distinction but in the case of the Rand brothers, even their fingerprints were so alike the specialist documenting the boys couldn’t tell them apart.
Within months Richmond cleaned himself up and the Marines put his life back on track. Selected for the sniper unit, and consumed with perfection, he practiced with torso targets up to a mile away, and eventually worked the distance to an amazing mile and a half.
Small in stature, only 5’8” but clean and tidy he was a model Marine who would have made one hell of an officer had he made a career in the service. Those with whom he worked considered him a self-confident worker. He was quickly becoming the best and he knew it. Following many sessions of exhausting practice he was one of the finest snipers thus, earning the title “greatest marksman” in the military. He didn’t accept defeat - there was no such word in his vocabulary. However, PTSD possessed its grip and disturbing signs of unusual behavior.
As much as his commanding officer made an effort to persuade him to remain in the service, it was an attempt in ineffectiveness. If, on the other hand, he were to remain in the military he would eventually surrender to the harshness of reality - yielding to a younger person - with the prospect of becoming a weapons instructor.
He served his country well - and with distinction, but time was not on his side. At the tender young age of twenty four he was just beginning to struggle with the effects of PTSD. What would he do once released from the Marines? There wasn’t a need for snipers in civilian life. At best, he could work as a police officer or security guard.
In the Marines he was a person of value, someone who commanded respect from his superiors and subordinates. In a way, he was like a Medal Of Honor recipient. There wouldn’t be a place or occasion when he would not receive the respect and admiration for his accomplishments.
His release date was quickly approaching but only to face unemployment. Richmond Rand spent 7-1/2 years in the Marines and the thought of abandoning his only significance was frightening.
* * *
March 23, 2010. He collected his personal items, made one last trip to the paymaster at Guantanamo to settle on his final military pay: $2293.80. As far as the Marines were concerned they were just moments away from release of all responsibility. On the other hand, they would have reserved a place for him he decided to re-enlist.
As luck would have it, his former point man in Iraq was to be discharged at the same time. Curt Whitmore was in no small part the reason Richmond was so successful. It was Whitmore, who calculated the coordinates in the snipers nest. and also lived the same disciplined life. He too, displayed signs of PTSD, and like that of Richmond Rand expressed no desire to remain in the Marines.
Whitmore was a farm boy from West Brookfield, Massachusetts. A small New England town located in the center of the state approximately 1 hour from the world renowned Berkshires and Tanglewood, the summer home of The Boston Pops. In the summer months folks gathered, spreading blankets and preparing picnic baskets for a sunny afternoon or twinkling starry evening of music. It was filled with a rich New England culture.
It was a nice place to live or retire. With scarcely any industry, West Brookfield is a bedroom community accommodating the wealthy from the nearby rolling hills of Connecticut and as far away as Boston.
Following their discharge the men returned to Ogunquit, taking up residence in a converted old barn used as a boat shelter on the property Richmond’s parents old farm - the house was an original salt box house built in 1720. There was electricity, a sofa, one hot plate, coffee pot, TV a college sized refrigerator and a bed.
Surprisingly, an m40A3 sniper rifle turned up shortly after their arrival in Ogunquit. Anyone who has even been in the military knows that supply guys are god, and it would not take a lot of money to engage in an illegal act like stealing a rifle.
The 7.62x51mm NATO (official NATO nomenclature 7.62 NATO) is a rifle cartridge developed in the 1950s as a standard for small arms among NATO countries. When loaded with a bullet that expands, tumbles, or fragments tissue, this cartridge is capable of delivering devastating terminal performance known as hydrostatic shock (penetrating projectiles can produce remote wounding producing incapacitation).
The M14 and many other rifles that use the 7.62×51 round remain in service, especially in the case of sniper rifles and machine guns. The cartridge is used both by infantry and weapons mounted to vehicles, aircraft and ships.
Great care was taken to shelter the two from the theft of the highly prized m40a3. Although the weapon was stolen, it was previously dropped from the active inventory list. It surpassed its value as far as the military was concerned. The Marines were presently using a newer version of the sniper rifle (m40a4) and although there was nothing conflicting with the rifle, it was as good as if not better than its newer replacement.
The final cost for both men to purchase the gun in a cash deal was $100.00. The supply guy knew how the system worked and as an end result the gun long been written off. The link between Richmond, Curt and the supply guy was clearly more than just a chance arrangement and transaction.
The weapon was equipped with a specially designed silencer and of greater significance was a state of the art smoke eradicator. When fired, the silencer hushed the sound and the RAC-1219 electronic suppressor served two purposes: It suffocated the smoke reprocessing it back through the hot barrel where it was vaporized into a fine mist eliminating any trace of flash.
Ammo was easily available. They purchased 100 rounds of .308 Winchester (packed 20 rounds per box) for $2.00 per round. With a fascination to keep the dream alive, Richmond and Curt began to rationalize use of their fatal sniper skills.
One evening while consuming an unbelievable quantity of alcohol they became disturbed as their attention was drawn to a TV news clip about corporate executive compensation and how they flaunted their lifestyle. The piece was not endearing to the CEO’s.
The interview was on the subject of the approaching retirement of ChemCon CEO Jack Summers. They flipped to another local news channel and it was just a repeat of the previous channel.
“Hey! know what someone should do to all those bastards? Richmond remarked.
“Be in hiding just as those pricks receive their mega millions and when they exit the building - POW! Drive a bullet into their spine leaving them paralyzed.” Richmond said at the same time holding an imaginary rifle taking careful aim at the TV. With eyes smooth as glass all of his concentration was on the conceived scheme.
“Get enough of those rich bastards and in the long run you won’t be able to find a CEO anywhere agreeable to make a public appearance - and it’ll drive down the demand for those high golden parachutes and sweetheart deals” Richmond said again.
By now, Curt knocked back enough alcohol causing him to collapse on the bed. After learning of Summers huge separation package compared to their meager combined separation pay of $4600.00 one more swallow from the bottle of Jack Daniels and Richmond also nodded off.
The next morning The Boston Globe featured an article about ChemCon listing the address of the corporate tower in Boston. Richmond tore out the article and shoved it into the gun case. Two of its top executives in Islamabad, Pakistan were sentenced to 15 years in prison for failing to implement safety regulations and for a string of violations at the plant.
Jack Summers was to be honored for his illustrious career on July 3, 2010 in a ceremony at ChemCon Headquarters. His replacement was a hand picked senior executive groomed by Summers to take control of the most tarnished chemical company on the planet. The only other company to have been under attack was Danner Chemical when it swore under oath in a Senate hearing it did not produce chemicals harmful to military personnel in Vietnam. Danner produced the highly toxic mixture known as Agent Orange (Dioxin Poison). It began to affect soldiers and Marines in the late 1960’s when they returned with cancerous consequences.
A class action lawsuit from Vietnam veterans forced the chemical manufacturer to admit guilt. In a 1984 out of court settlement, Danner agreed to establish a fund valued at $180,000,000 (million dollars) for the claimants of the disease causing Agent Orange (Dioxin).
Many falsely reported they served in Vietnam. It was for the compensation Danner and the Veteran’s Administration could make available. One did have to prove that he or she was in country and here lies the fortune for so many wanna’-bees.
The staff at The Cunningham Presidential Estate in South Berwick were organizing their daily household tasks preparing for guests. Former President and Mrs. Vincen endeared themselves to former President and Mrs. Cunningham. The Summers, former Presidents Cunningham and The Vincens would soon have the advantage of the best lobster meal in the Northeast.
* * *
The Cliff House in Ogunquit was the Summers’ choice for vacation - one of the most valued pieces of real estate on the coast of Maine. Before he was chosen CEO of ChemCon, Jack and Siarah set aside the first weekend following Labor Day for their annual retreat, but the phone never stopped ringing. The continuing corporate meetings via telephone or computer conferencing, the wheeling and dealing were not always contributing to a restful time for Jack or his wife.
People the world over arrived in Ogunquit every summer to visit the renowned Marginal Way, Perkin’s Cove and the opportunity to inhale the salt air and temporarily dissolve their problems. It was a place where lobster shacks, chocolate purveyors, ice cream vendors and gift shops prospered. With no less than 25 antique shops, many converted old Maine barns were overflowing with a “picker’s” dream. McDonalds even featured a lobster role on its menu.
Barbara Dean’s stunning home overlooking The Marginal Way, at one time a celebrated restaurant was now a gift shop in this magnificent quaint New England town of 1200 residents.
Perhaps it would be better to wait until Summers and his wife were in Maine to put their plan into action. Traveling to Boston presented problems with logistics, but so did Maine. With the president living just miles away, The Secret Service would relentlessly confirm each lead. The two men were undecided as to how they would execute their attack. The premeditated activity and the combination of the PTSD was about to take its toll.
The Secret Service thus far had not installed the most modern radar detection device: The Radio Equalizer which could instantly distinguish from where a shot was fired.
Their plan was to strike as the Summers’ were en route and consequently nobody expecting the assault. Within minutes of the Summers car coming to a stop, the assailants would have escaped the scene.
If all went according to their plan following the destructive hit, the first reaction would be that it was a random act of violence. These guys were about to become vigilantes with a distorted sense of duty to their country.
* * *
It was July 3, Siara Summers patiently waited for her husband to depart the headquarters of ChemCon. He was in heart and soul - a free man. A rich man who made it on the backs of thousands of civilians in Islamabad so many years earlier. He could not be held responsible for the actions of the company and, it was getting away with murder!
For weeks the press played up the pending retirement and vacation at the President Cunningham Estate. This allowed Richmond and Curt an opportunity to stake out a location from which they could fire their crippling shot. News reports were filled with anticipation and even made available the route from Boston to South Berwick.
On July 2, Richmond Rand and Curt Whitmore set up a practice firing range at the farm in Ogunquit. Richmond, lying in a prone position with tripod, and Whitmore placed next to him began to make the necessary adjustment to the weapon and targeted an old rotten tree at a distance of approximately 1000 yards.
This was not as difficult a shot which caused the complex maneuver of killing a man from the distance of one and a half miles. This would be to a certain extent a close range shooting. The average distance would have been approximately less than 2,000 feet. At this distance, there was no need for a spotter, but the two were always together.
* * *
“Damn! A miss!” Another! Then another! After a series of adjustments they finally struck their target splintering the wood as the bullet hit its mark.
All that was needed now was to set up and wait for their victim. It was July 3, 1:00 PM as they waited, similar to Muhammad and Malvo the D.C. snipers who terrorized the eastern part of the country 6 years earlier. Malvo was ultimately put to death as the convicted mastermind in the shooting spree that killed 8 people. Muhammad received life in prison.
The press, was preparing a documentary on Summers. Their viewpoint was not endearing to ChemCon. CEO’s like Summers was compared to a Nascar event where people want to see rollovers and hazards - even death to validate their entrance fee. Most people who attend sporting events - especially those of a death-defying nature would like to see something go wrong. It was no different with the CEO of ChemCon.
There was an attitude accompanied by the quick tempered believers that these golden boys of business should be punished. There was a fragmented group of beer swigging radicals who followed this course of action - hopeful and eager for punishment - even at the threat of anarchism.
Richmond and Curt were on the leading edge of igniting the fires on a topic that irritated, aggravated and even motivated a segment of the population. Not since the Vietnam War was there about to be a firestorm of such division of public opinion.
All that had to be done now was prepare for the armor piercing round to enter the victim’s car, and if calculated properly, Summers would be paralyzed. The bullet would shatter his spine for all intents and purposes causing him to become immobile from the waist down. However, to hit a moving target was going to be a long shot.
Throughout all of this, Whitmore’s younger brother Tavis, the third man in the group wanted to be like to be like his brother. Incapable of joining the military, he didn’t have a high school diploma - a pre-requisite for military service. On this day, Tavis would shadow the Escalade from his position outside the ChemCon Headquarters in Boston. Richmond never met Tavis but Curt assured him his brother was responsible.
As the two lay in wait, Richmond’s cell phone began to vibrate. Tavis successfully followed the Summers’ car through Boston traffic onto Route 90 into New Hampshire and the Maine Turnpike. At this point it was ten minutes from the sniper, and as directed, Tavis remained on his phone updating the duo in “real time” - with an order from Richmond to keep the phone line open. They carefully calculated the attack and nothing was going to prevent them from carrying out their plan.
If caught, they would all be implicated in the crime of attempted murder with the likelihood of facing life in prison. Maine abolished the death penalty following their last execution in 1887. Anyone who has watched the movie The Shaw Shank Redemption - a prison movie filmed at the infamous prison in Maine they would think twice about doing the crime.
The pair earlier scouted out a section of wooded area adjacent to an old dirt logging path with an outlet leading to a remote state road once they fired their shot their shot.
With the phone line open Tavis, continually informed the two men of every movement as the Escalade moved closer. With trigger finger firmly placed and Whitmore also lying on the ground Richmond waited for the car to be in sight and just as the black Cadillac Escalade passed, he squeezed the trigger! The force of the projectile ripped through the passenger’s side of the vehicle.
In less than a millisecond, the bullet sliced through the door into, Jack Summers. Mission accomplished! The Escalade came to a sudden stop. Richmond and Curt were positioned far enough away that it provided them time to safely disappear.
In an instant, what was to be a carefree retirement with millions of dollars in reward suddenly vanished. Police and medical personnel arrived within minutes. The victim rushed to the only hospital in York, in grave condition as news of the tragedy traveled quickly to the Presidential Compound.
A team of physicians rushed the severely wounded patient into surgery. Doctors cut into the wound discovering the damage had totally destroyed any remnant of what moments earlier was a healthy vertebrae, but now merely flesh and bone particles. The only option was to clean the area of fragments, and sew the patient up. The diagnosis: Jack Summers was paralyzed from the neck down and now a paraplegic. His dynamic life destroyed in an instant. Now came the realism of dealing with the reason for the incident.
Richmond and Curt managed to make a clean getaway. Eventually, Tavis, after getting lost and barely avoiding a speed trap returned an hour late to the old barn. This was his first time meeting Richmond who was less than enthusiastic about the younger brother! Once back at their meager residence there was uncertainty how they were going to notify the media this act of spiteful vengeance was somehow compensation for executives who disappointment the public. It was a cowardly attempt by three unbalanced disturbed madmen at correcting what Congress and the political leaders are elected to do. Lawlessness is not the American way to deal with any single individual’s vision of the law.
Using an old Remington typewriter from an old desk in one corner of the barn, Richmond typed a letter on plain white paper and for the fear of being caught slipped on a pair of rubber gloves when handling the incriminating evidence.
* * *
The letter read:
“This is only the first of what is to come. Each time an executive is rewarded with such absurd retirement or buy out benefits, we will take revenge!
We will travel to all parts of the country to take out punishment on the board of directors and the CEO’s who rape the public.
Be careful! We will strike again!
* * *
There was no means of identifying the sender. The trio traveled to Boston to mail their letter, steering clear of revealing their location.
The Boston Globe and radio station WRAC, the all talk station was the first to break the news. In the first day, the phones buzzed off the hook - every line glowing! The shooting created an inferno of disgust for CEO‘s. Strangely enough, a majority of callers were in favor of the shooter. How bizarre for the public to embrace the idea of a vigilante method of justice.
Soon, the news and reasons for the shooting was the movement throughout the country. News organizations were adding up the pros and cons with the shocking conclusion: In favor of the vigilante’ justice!
* * *
Tavis Whitmore wasn’t a smart boy. A high school drop out, who tagged along with anyone with a hair brained idea and usually ending up on the short end. One occasion occurred when two adolescent teens convinced him they should enter a neighboring farmers pasture and slaughter a calf.
Carrying knives, the trio selected a calf and began to slaughter the animal. The screaming calf attracted the attention of the owner who caught the trio in the act of the butchery. The other two boys scattered and Tavis got caught holding the bloody knife. The farmer and the Whitmore’s were neighbors and friends. To avoid prosecution, Tavis not only was obligated to pay for the dead calf ($250.00), but to work for the neighboring farmer for an entire summer bailing hay and carrying out back breaking chores. One would think he learned his lesson.
* * *
Curt was flipping through the pages of the Boston Globe and noticed an article about the CEO of CelerateAir under attack for his inadequate performance in the discharge of his duties. Three years earlier Donald Ross convened with the CelebrateAir Board of Directors to forge an acceptable contract for his compensation and a golden parachute when it came time for his departure.
One clause in his contract stated that if after two years he didn’t perform according to the terms set forth in his employment, he would have the opportunity of early retirement and a buyout of one hundred million dollars. Fifty million in stock options, full medical and dental coverage and the privilege of family members “bumping” cash paying passengers and travel First Class anywhere world CelerateAir flew.
It was an obvious slap in the face at the rank and file who came to blows with the unions when mechanics were forced to forfeit 20% of their pay, and cut their work week by 4 hours. The mechanics union ratified the contract to take a reduction in pay from $32.00 to $28.00 per hour. Flight attendants were laid off, and forced to take a pay cut. Many who worked their way to senior flight attendant with the best routes, abruptly found themselves out of a job. It was unreasonable, and the rank and file loathed Ross.
Preceding his position with the company three years earlier, CelebrateAir stock plunged from $75.00 per share to less than $4.00. In a frantic hunt for a new CEO, the company selected the resume of Donald Ross an repugnant airline capitalist who, along with his high priced lawyers and crucial decision makers arrived from Cougar Airlines, a commercial world wide air freight carrier, to the CEO of FirstLove Airlines. In all three instances, Ross played his cards skillfully, always with the trump card close to his lawyers: If his managing skills were found to be substandard, he would always have the option to take the buyout with all of its reward.
As livid as the rank and file were with Ross’ income package, the company began to prosper, and earnings began show impressive growth.
Cleaning services at most of the stations was cut - saving $100,000,000 (million dollars) annually. Selling off the Fokker aircraft and extra inventory sitting idle in hangers. Disposing of surplus hangers and obsolete equipment, the new boss improved the bottom line by $200,000,000 (million dollars) in 6 months.
He gained the complete attention of the general public when the stock prices gradually began to escalate from $4.00 per share to a high ot $95.00. Seasoned pilots obtained loans against their 401K even with a tough penalty for early withdrawal to purchase $200,000 - $300,000 and in certain instances as much as $500,000 worth of CelebrateAir stock at $4.00 a share and holding it until the market reached the $95.00 mark then advise their broker to issue a sell order. As a result, one pilot walked away which reported profits of a cool eleven million dollars!
The $150,000,000 (million dollar) payoff to Ross for screwing the employees of CelebrateAir was a calculated risk. Ross was going walk with a hundred and fifty million dollar payday of gigantic size. The subject in the airline breakrooms was that most of the “golden parachute” would be on the backs of the rank and file. The unions were reduced to absolute powerlessness. Ross, with the upper hand and only three years following his appointment as CEO announced his ’surprise’ retirement. He knew it was time to leave!
Enter, Richmond Rand, Curt and Tavis Whitmore. In their minds, they wanted very much to dole out another shooting “the will of the people” one more reason for their continued wrath in the name of corporate corruption.
There was a great deal of publicity about the ostentatious Ross and his “dirty” buyout. Like Summers of ChemCon, he lived in a villa in France, a mansion in Italy, and flew to his Island getaway compliments of the employees of CelerateAir. Another despicable bastard in the corporate world. The trio of assassins would now make a difference and further fuel the fires of the media -especially talk radio.
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