Part I-Chapter 23: THE FIRESTORM

Chapter 23

The Firestorm

(Ó 2007)

It was just as David Todd had predicted in the days following the arrest of Jared Bartholomew. Jared’s fans and supporters were first more enraged at the police for their actions, rather than with him for the vile things he had done. 

However, what Sergeant Todd was incorrect on was the length of time in which reality would come to those worshipped Jared. Because after all, it was children that Jared preyed upon . By the next evening following his arrest, his supporters outside the hospital had gone from a count that was once in the hundreds, to now just below twenty.

By the following morning, there were only three. Three of the “die-hards” that David spoke of. Two girls and one man. The man carried a placard sign with Jared’s picture. Below it was hand written in black marker: IT’S ALL A LIE!

It was the main story not only on the talk radio stations, but the music stations as well. Some of these “die-hards” insisted that it was all a conspiracy against Jared. When confronted with the questions of why anyone would want to do such a thing as to make Jared out to be a child molester, the only answer that came was that, “They are just so jealous of him.”

When the various radio personalities would ask, “Well then, why would Jared admit to all these allegations?” and, “Well then, just who are ‘they’ anyway?” All that was heard then was the click from the callers quickly hanging up.

Even the “die-hards” began to disappear.

Jared himself began to see the change in peoples attitudes towards him. His narcissism had led him once to believe that he could do anything out of the ordinary and he would always retain his worshippers. He first noticed the change from the medical staff. When he first arrived and regained consciousness, it seemed there was nothing that anyone there would not do for him. And he was always referred to as “Mr. Bartholomew”.

Now he noticed that the sympathetic tones in their voices and expressions on their faces were gone. When summoned now they staff took longer to respond, and instead of hearing, “Yes Mr. Bartholomew,” he would hear, “What do you need now?”

The first casualty to Jared was his ability to move, the second now was his arrogance.

Another casualty would come a week later. He awoke in the morning to see his mother sitting in a chair next to his bed. “Hello Mother,” he said blinking his eyes, “where have you been?”

Laura Bartholomew stood and went to the bathroom where she took one of the washcloths hanging on the rail, wetted it with cold water, stepped back over to her son’s bedside and began to gently wipe his face and eyes. “I’m sorry Jared, but your father kept me from coming here after you spoke with the police.”

“That bastard.” Jared said with slight anger.

“I wouldn’t be the one right now to insult and judge anyone.” Laura said firmly. It was the first time Jared had ever heard her use a matriarchal tone.

“What do you mean mother?”

Laura moved the chair closer to the bed so that she could look her son directly into his face. She sat down and said, “I want to hear it from you. I want to hear everything. I want you to tell me the truth of what everyone is talking about.”

“Oh you do … do you?”

“Yes, damn it, I do.” She said angrily, so much that it startled Jared. “I am your mother and you will do as I ask. You will tell me everything. You will tell me what I have to know. I want to and have to hear it all from you and you alone. So, talk to me Jared. Talk to me now!”

Jared first emotion was that of anger that anyone, even his own mother, would make any such demands of him, never the less speak to him in such a manner. However, egotism and conceit were dying in him more everyday, “All right mother … where should I begin?”

Over the next two hours Jared told her everything of his secretive life, of all the boys, and of how his father, her husband, accepted it and even helped finance it. Of the arrangements, of the real goals they both had. Of the dreams of power and how they would get it. Of the blackmail between them, and of the deceit towards her. He told her everything, every lurid detail of the dirty truth about him, her husband, even why he chose to marry her. 

Laura held her composure throughout it all, even as her son spoke the whole time with a sardonic smile on his face. When it came to a conclusion she took a deep breath and stood up and walked over to the door. She looked over to her son and said, “I can’t believe that I carried you. I can’t believe that I took that man’s seed and gave birth to you.” She reached for the door, opened it looked to her son for the very last time and said, “You’re a monster.”

She quickly stepped out of the room. She never saw nor spoke to her son ever again.

When she arrived back to her car, a large pearl white Mercedes-Benz sedan, she slipped into the drivers seat and began to think about the last couple of hours. She looked at herself in the rear view mirror, at the clothing she was wearing, at the jewelry on her neck and wrists, and of the diamonds on her fingers. She looked around her at the interior of her automobile, with it fine tan leather upholstery, and she then buried her face in her hands and sobbed in her car for over an hour.

When she regained her composure, she dried her eyes and nose with some Kleenex from her purse, started her car and made her way out of the hospital parking lot. Once she reached the corner she turned north onto Sheridan Road on her way back to her home.

She was a potpourri of different emotions. She felt humiliated, deceived, and above all, foolish. Memories of all her friends and their warnings about Mitchell flowed through her mind, and she knew that he would be home right now because he had taken a leave of absence from his company. She felt anger towards herself for the denial she kept herself in all her life, and of the bubble she chose to live in. In ten minutes time she found herself at the gate of the large Bartholomew estate. She reached up to the remote button that was on the visor that would open the gate. Her hand almost reached the button when she stopped. She took a long look at the beautiful large mansion with Lake Michigan behind it. She then looked over to the guest house where her son would have his secret trysts with some of those little boys he just spoke to her about.

She thought about how that large guest house could be the home to any other family outside Kenilworth. She looked around the interior of her car again. She then thought that some people make in one year what her automobile cost. With another thought she realized that most people have to work for two years for the same amount. She stared at the property for a few more minutes, then she gently reached down to the transmission shift, put the car in reverse, pulled back out onto Sheridan Road facing north, and drove away.

She never went back to the mansion ever again.

She kept driving along Sheridan Road with the view of the lake on her right hand side. She kept driving until she came to Lake Forest where in another few minutes time she found herself parked in the driveway of her parents home. She looked up to the window where the dining room was and in a few seconds her father appeared.

Allan Hathaway opened the front door and stepped out onto the walkway that led out to the driveway. He stepped up to his daughters car, opened the door and held out his hand to her. She took it and pulled herself up to him and buried her face into his chest. She began to sob again. He then walked her back and took her into the house where her mother was also waiting for her, and then also embraced her.

They both never said to her, “I told you so” She spent the night there in her old room and slept until the later morning.

She came into the kitchen to see her father sitting at the table. Surprised she said, “Morning Daddy. Aren’t you supposed to be at the dealerships?”

“I called in and took the day off sweetie,” he said with a smile, “I think you need me more right now.”

It was the first sign of her faith in how she believed things should be since the attack on Jared. Daddies will always protect their little girls.

“Did you sleep OK sweetie?” He asked, “Would you like some breakfast or something?”

“Yes, but I’ll make it myself, thanks.” She said as she opened the door of the large silver refrigerator to get some eggs. she stopped and turned to her father and asked, “Daddy? You’ve come to know some pretty important people over the years, right?”

“I guess you could say that I have honey. Why?”

“By any chance, could you put me in contact with the best divorce lawyer around?”

With that began the legal firestorm of attorneys that Mitchell and Jared Bartholomew would face. (Some would contend that Laura’s divorce lawyer? Well, she would turn out to be the worst nightmare for Mitchell). 

* * * * *

In the aftermath of Jared’s attack, beginning on the evening where Lt. Hatton was holding the initial press hearing to announce the arrest of both Jared and his father, David Todd and Noel Jaworski were in the building in Chicago which housed the main location of the Bartholomew Youth Project. They sat in the office of the President of the foundation, Karen Moran, who was also deeply involved with the arts in Chicago. David had informed her of the arrest of Jared, and of the charges. Ms. Moran was greatly offended by what David and Noel had informed her of, venomously defending the good name and character of Jared Bartholomew. “You both are greatly mistaken, or about to make a great mistake.” She said to them both sternly.

David then told her that they need all the files for all of the children that were ever involved in the foundation. When David added, “Especially, all boys that have been involved,” Ms. Moran became angry, yet composed.

 

“Not without a warrant officer.” She answered, then sat down to her desk and folded her hands atop of it.

“OK Ms. Moran,” Noel said to her, “We’ll get you what you want. But, I’m gonna tell ya, when the parents of these kids find out how uncooperative you’re being on this, well don’t be surprised if your name don’t come up on any lawsuit, but, … we‘ll do it your way.” He reached for the phone, looked at her and asked, “May I?”

She nodded ’yes’ and Noel began dialing. He called Captain Xiang and informed him of the situation. Noel listed to what he had to say for a few seconds then hung up the phone.

“What happened?” David asked.

“He said he’ll have one in a few minutes, then have it delivered. Just sit tight and wait.”

Ms. Moran seemed slightly disturbed at the speed in which the two detectives had gotten what she had requested. One hour and ten minutes later other officers showed up at the offices of the Bartholomew Youth Project. Not just the two detectives that were assigned the investigation, but an entourage of others who were to become involved , including officials from Child Protective Services. They placed the warrant in Ms. Moran’s hands. She put on her reading glasses and read the warrant. She then looked down her nose and above the spectacles at everyone now in the room. She stepped aside and pointed to where the files were and let them search.

One of the two detectives in charge looked at David and Noel and said, “We’ll take it from here, sorry you guys had to wait.”

“Don’t worry,” David said, “besides, we got other pressing issues, and I don’t think I’d want to get involved to much more in this thing anyway.” David then turned to Ms. Moran, “Good night Miss.” He said and both he and Noel left the offices abruptly.

The next day, at 1:30 in the afternoon, Ms. Karen Moran announced her sudden resignation as president of the Bartholomew Youth Project, to take place immediately that day.

MB Media, founded by Mitchell Bartholomew, was not immune from the scandal that came either. The first sign of trouble for the company came from the stockholders. When word got out that Jared Bartholomew may have been using company funds to finance his deviant sexual lifestyle, a sell off slowly began. The first day, five percent of MB Media stock was sold, dropping one percent daily afterwards. Then, the clients themselves began to show concern. Companies were being inundated with phone calls and letters informing them that if they were using MB Media to help advertise and promote their products that they could be assured of huge boycott campaigns against them.

The Board of Directors of MB Media had an emergency meeting to discuss the financial repercussions of the scandal that the vice president, and son of their president and CEO had created. Mitchell Bartholomew did not attend this meeting, that is because he was never asked too. He had no idea that it was even taking place. However, he was the first to be informed of the decisions of the meeting. 

The Board had informed Mitchell that the importance of the company’s stability, existence, and good name far outweigh that of any individual. Even if that individual is the founder. The board decided to place Mitchell Bartholomew on “paid administrative leave” until the investigation of the use of company funds has been concluded. Also, until that time, Mitchell would have no say or authority on any decision of the day to day operations of MB Media.

In the months that followed it seemed as though the scandal was everywhere. Every day a new set of parents or other adults who would come out and announce their lawsuits against Jared Bartholomew for the terrible sexual acts he did with their son, or nephew, or how ever the boy would be related to them.

One attorney who stood out was Leon Robbins. He called a news conference to announce that he was filing a lawsuit of behalf of three Mexican boys who were either themselves illegal immigrants, or that their parents were. He was also taking the cases pro bono.

“Here we have your typical case of the rich and powerful here in this country, taking advantage of and exploiting those who are powerless against them.” Leon said in his opening statement.

Noel and David were watching the broadcast at the bar of The Shamrock. “That little son-of-a-bitch!” Noel said angrily under his breath.

“What’s the matter?” David asked.

“Look at him, what he’s doing, and who he’s gonna do it to.” He said disgusted, “Now he’s made it so that I gotta root for him.”

Later, both men were surprised to find out that one of the boys that Leon was representing was Tave Ramirez, the boy who was threatened by Jared, and had his words repeated to him by the man who had paralyzed him.

David and Noel however were not that much concerned with the scandal that was created following Jared’s attack. More ever they were focused still on finding not only the man who had attacked Jared, but also the pimp who was going to deliver a boy to Jared that evening.

* * *
 

Unknown to them, the man in question was at that moment also watching the news broadcast that featured Leon Robbins. Gregior Divic was more calm now in the past weeks since his top customer had suffered his unpleasant incident. He now was conducting business as usual, hunting for runaway boys and girls, or just outright kidnapping them, and smuggling more naïve girls from the Balkans and former Soviet Union. But now he had the extra burden of protecting himself and his financial lifestyle by gently blackmailing all those whose names were in “The Pink Book.”

The extra time that this added responsibility placed on him kept him oblivious to the awareness that he had been under surveillance for some time now.