Anthony DePaul Copyright  2005 by Anthony DePaul

Chapter Twelve

The fact that he’d never heard of the Philadelphes disturbed him. The Masons built temples, nursing homes, retirement homes and sponsored causes for the needy. Their massive Temple on Broad Street suggested the innate strength of centuries of growth and wealth. There are no Temples or physical manifestations of the Philadelphes. What was the “mission” of the Philadelphes? Social Justice? Political change? Religious freedom? Why would other societies agree to work within their control?

The phone rang just as Dorian snapped his gold cufflinks in place.

The caller ID read, “J Kelly”.

“Speak Kel!” said Dorian.

“We are on for a five o’clock arraignment,” said Kelly. “Judge Moon is presiding at the direct request of the black members of City Council. They don’t trust any one else. Will you be there?”

“Sure! I’ll be sitting opposite Alice so for appearances sake, we’ll be adversaries. Judge Moon is no fool. He may be an ally.”

Kelly laughed, “Sure! The whole city is going to believe that!”

“For Alice’s sake, they better believe it.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Kelly.

Dorian trusted Kelly but also understood that Kelly’s first allegiance was to Estelle. “I can not tell you. Just work with me. We’ll win this case. What is your play?”

“I am sure Estelle was drugged but that may play against her. She was really out of it. Pregnant women arouse sympathy.”

The words cut right through Dorian.

“Where was Lincoln shot?”

Kelly paused, “One bullet through the heart. Close range.”

Dorian envisioned the scene. “So strong, athletic Linc could not stop a drugged up pregnant woman from killing him? And she only fired once and hit him dead nuts in the heart?”

“What are you suggesting?”

Despite his concerns, Dorian knew he had to level with Kelly or the case may get away from the true cause of Lincoln’s murder. “Brace yourself Counselor. I am about to tell you a story that I believe is true. It involves a well-engineered plot to control our town. But promise me that you will only use this information if we discuss it first.”

“You’re placing me in a tough situation but you’ve always been straight. I’ll play along,” said Kelly.

Five minutes later, Kelly breathed, “Whew! That is quite a tale. Conspiracy theory to the max! What are you going to do?”

Dorian snatched a bottle of spring water from the bar. His heart was racing like a fire engine. “Kel, I feel like a guy who was blind-sided with a baseball bat to the head. They knocked me down but not out. I am still alive and getting up madder than when I went down. They have a weakness. I’ll find it and when I knock them down, they won’t get up.”

“You could go to the Feds.”

“With what? I have no hard evidence. But I have a window I’m peeking in they don’t know about and you don’t want to know about. For now, I’ll keep it quiet. Separate issue. You may want to keep your client in jail for her own sake.”

“I thought about that but she wants her OBGYN and not some prison MD caring for her and the baby.”

Dorian felt the same way about Alice. “Makes sense. See you at five.”

“Hold the phone, literally. My assistant just handed me a note. Grace Lord was sworn in as Mayor ten minutes ago.”

Dorian nodded. “As planned. See ya!”

Dorian finished dressing by donning his best, “Trust me” blue suit and a striped tie. He combed his thinning hair straight back. He thought of adding reading glasses but Alice would laugh at his pretense of respectability.

He checked the server. Ben and Franklin had reduced the info to a hundred pages. He read them carefully, looking for patterns and clues to a connection with Camorra.

The main reference focused on a Philip of Narbonne who established The Philadelphes in France in 1779. That timeframe coincided with Ben Franklin’s visit to Paris during the American Revolution. Maybe Spaventa was right about Franklin’s connection to Narbonne. Certainly Narbonne would have resisted Napoleon’s tyranny, which was a historical fact. But how did Camorra fit in? Why would the Maccabees aka the Knights of Palestine and the Scottish Knights and the Masons agree to allow the Camorra to encircle them? Or did they simply join together under the banner of the Philadelphes?

Each society had its rebels who disagreed with not only the established socio-political order but also the order of each group. So the splinter groups spun off from a larger group because they felt disenfranchised.

The rebels were established in both hemispheres. They were religious and social and political malcontents that split off from the main body. In 1779, the same year Narbonne surfaced, a group from Sicily emerged under a mysterious man named Cagliostro who advocated the enlistment of women in an Egyptian rite. Cagliostro also preached the supremacy of the Philadelphes over all other secret societies.

Cagliostro’s ancestry was rumored to be Italian or Greek or some combination of the two. Historians differ on his real name. Was he really a blackmailer and confidence man named Alexandro Balsamo from Sicily? From 1775 to1793, he traveled throughout Europe espousing the principle of the Philadelphes as the unifying force of all Secret Societies. The link with the Scottish Rites, a spin off of the Masons, was an historical fact.

In the 1770s, Cagliostro met and converted Lafayette who later traveled to America. At one time, he was the Grand Master of the Masonic Lodge of London. Fifty years later, the Lodge split from its Masonic roots and shifted to the Philadelphes. He befriended Napoleon and traveled to Italy with him. After the scandalous criminal affair of the necklace involving Marie Antoinette, he was imprisoned but freed. The Catholics arrested him and jailed him in Castle San Angelo. He also connected with the Philadelphes via the Bedaride brothers in France. From them, there was a clear connection to Napoleon and the Egyptians. Napoleon was fascinated with ancient Egypt and the lore of their secret religions. Cagliostro no doubt fit the Napoleonic view of the Rites of Memphis, the precursors to the Philadelphes. Perhaps when Napoleon captured Naples, he imported Cagliostro’s society to help him rule Bourbon Italy.

Dorian mulled the data like a man trying to solve a crossword puzzle with confusing clues. Which answers fit?

Like a clap of thunder, a bell went off in his head. The black mailing, the confidence game, the secret ancestry, the ability to absorb power invisibly matched the behavior and style he’d witnessed in the City. Camorra infiltrated the Philadelphes or at least convinced the other groups that Cagliostro’s men and women were the rightful pool to anoint Il Segreto, the leader of the Philadelphes and therefore the leader of all Secret Societies. Il Segreto did not need Temples or Lodges. He had power over the hearts and minds of the other societies. He built his Temple in the soul of the leaders of the other groups. And whomever he could not coerce to his will, Talarico killed. Cagliostro’s apostles were the driving force that attracted all those poor fools who longed for guidance and a new order. Posing as a rightful heir through the lineage of the past, he sucked in the acolytes as would any good con man. Jim Jones had nothing on these guys.

The mafia influenced the incumbents. It was no coincidence that JFK and Chicago mob boss Sam Giancana shared the same woman. Maybe the reason Bobby Kennedy pressed so hard on the mob was to get them off JFK’s back? But Camorra was smarter. They wanted to run the government from the inside, not influence it from the outside. The hardest target to hit is the invisible enemy, the enemy from within.

The grandfather clock tolled four. Show time in one hour in Judge Moon’s courtroom.

He sorted out that ML represented the Scottish Rites. Nate was clearly a Maccabee. So was Il Segreto Grace Lord, Marian or Joseph Goodway?

And just who was blackmailing who and why?

He peered at the blank server screen. He had expected a video of Alice and Talarico. They had not blackmailed him. She was the target. He was expendable.

Dorian hailed a cab. He called Kelly on his cell phone.

“Hello.”

“Kel, It’s me. Listen up. I have an idea that may give Judge Moon a reason to offer Estelle bail.”

After Dorian finished, Kelly responded with a low whistle. “Dorian, you may have to testify to your theory. You may also be putting a bull’s eye on your back.”

Dorian leaned back in his seat. The cab arrived at the Criminal Justice Center. Rain pattered the top of the cab in a steady thump, thump, thump. Crowds jammed the narrow streets around the Center. Vans from all local TV stations lined the front steps while a cordon of armed cops manned the front doors.

“No sweat Kelly. I am expendable.”
Dorian, Kelly and Estelle met in the prisoner’s waiting room outside the courtroom. Red circles lined her eyes and her pallor was as white as rice. But her firmly set jaw suggested a calm resolve.

Kelly held her hand in his on top of the table. The stuffy room and bright lights reminded Dorian of a movie set. Sweat beaded on Kelly’s forehead.

“Estelle, we are going into the arraignment in two minutes,” said Kelly. ”The room will be packed. Do not look at anyone. Do not speak to anyone. When the Judge asks you for a plea, I will answer. We want you free on bond so you can get the medical attention you need. We will also throw an idea out to the Judge that will inflame the Press and your enemies. Stay calm and trust us.”

Kelly tilted her chin upwards. “Dorian needs to talk to you afterward. I will be with you every step of the way.”

Estelle blinked and nodded. A strand of hair flopped over her sad eyes. Kelly eased the tress into place.

“This is all a mistake, a bad dream made up by the devil. I loved Lincoln. I loved him,” she said.

“I know,” said Kelly.

The bailiff opened the door. “Its time, Mrs. Miles.”

Estelle took a deep breath, closed her eyes and murmured something to herself. She smoothed her hair. “I look a mess.” She rose and held her head up. “Yes! I’m ready.”

She slipped an arm in Dorian’s arm and Kelly’s as well.

Kelly pulled her to his side. “Let us go amongst them.”

The courtroom, packed to the paneled mahogany walls, buzzed as Estelle entered flanked by Dorian and Kelly. Police and sheriff’s deputies lined the aisle to keep the gallery in check. The storm turned the high, concave windows at the rear gray. The room was heavy with perspiration and anticipation. One reporter Dorian knew shouted in Estelle’s face, “Why’d you kill him?”

Another one called out, “Was he cheating on you?”

A third yelled, “What is your plea? Insanity?”

Alice sat at the Prosecutor’s table between Marian and an assistant named Shirley, a black woman who Alice trusted. In the row behind her sat Grace Lord, Nate Stern and ML. Alice averted Dorian’s stare as he passed by.

Smart move.

“All rise,” said the bailiff.

Poker faced, Judge Moon ascended the Chair. He carried a file folder in his gnarled hands. Pictures of Martin Luther King and John F Kennedy hung to the right of a bronze seal of justice. He motioned to the Crier to proceed. The Crier stood in the middle of the hushed courtroom. “Docket number C6578, murder in the first degree. Estelle Betts Miles versus the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.”

Judge Moon pointed the gavel at Kelly. “What is your plea?”

“Not guilty!” said Kelly.

“So entered. Bail Miss Rowe?” asked Moon.

Alice stayed seated, a courtroom ploy to portray confidence. She added reading glasses to make herself look more serious. “We seek remand your Honor. Miss Miles committed a capital felony by waiting for her husband’s return home before murdering him in cold blood. It was a premeditated act.”

Alice waited for a low murmur to subside.

“The Prosecution has extensive and compelling forensic evidence. We have the weapon with her fingerprints on it. She tested positive for gunshot residue. Two police officers found the deceased and Mrs. Miles alone with the body of the Mayor in the bedroom of their locked home. Mrs. Miles has substantial cash resources and is a flight risk. It is in the best interests of the City that she be held without bail to ensure that this trial take place.”

The courtroom stirred in approval. “She did it,” said one woman.

Moon pounded the gavel. “Quiet! Your rebuttal, Mister Kelly,” said Moon.

Kelly rose, buttoned his suit jacket and addressed the Judge. “Your Honor, my client is a pregnant woman who needs proper medical attention from her doctor.”

“Her Doctor can examine her in jail,” said Alice.

“How kind of the State,” said Kelly.

“Duly noted,” said Moon. “What else, Mister Kelly?”

Kelly paused for effect. “Thanks to the City’s best Detective, Mister Dorian Wilde, we have evidence that Estelle Miles is a victim of a conspiracy to assassinate her husband and to frame her.”

The courtroom erupted in cries of disbelief. “No way!” shouted one reporter.

“This is a set up to free a white woman,” yelled another.

Moon furiously smacked the gavel until the courtroom fell silent. “If this is some kind of trick to inflame this City, Kelly, I will seek Judicial Review against you!”

“We can prove reasonable doubt. Tox screen tests show my client and the Mayor had traces of Royphinol in their bodies. The Mayor never took a drug in his life. These charges are false. My client deserves bail which Mister Wilde will personally guarantee in any amount the Court stipulates.”

Moon glared at Dorian. “So you will put your money where your mouth is Mister Wilde. You must be pretty sure of yourself. Plus the drugs are out of character.”

Alice bolted upright. “The prosecution’s hard evidence is overwhelming your Honor!”

Kelly pulled out a blank check and laid it on the table. “We are only requesting house arrest. The police can guard her day and night. As far as the evidence goes, history has taught us that things are not always what they seem to be or what people want us to believe. That is why we have Courts and juries,” said Kelly.

Kelly took out a pen. “Mr. Wilde will sign the check for any amount you stipulate. What shall I fill in?”

Moon studied the Defense table. “You are with child, Mrs. Miles?”

Estelle nodded, “Yes and I swear on my baby I am innocent. I don’t want to run away. I want to prove my innocence so my child, Lincoln’s child, can live in the sunlight of freedom and not under the shadow of guilt thinking his mother killed her father.”

Dorian and Kelly exchanged glances wondering how Estelle got such nerve and eloquence.

Moon hesitated. He searched the faces of the gallery. “Mrs. Miles will be granted one million dollars cash bond. She will be restricted to house arrest. The police will guard the house with a female matron in her presence twenty-four hours a day. Mrs. Miles will wear an electronic security bracelet. Her Doctor will visit her and her Lawyer may visit her. Oh, since Mister Wilde is coughing up the bail money, he too may visit her. This court is adjourned. Wilde, sign the check.”

“With pleasure!” said Dorian. Kelly handed the check to the bailiff who handed it to Moon.

“Bailiff, escort Mrs. Miles to safety and see that she is properly secured,” said Moon.

Estelle rose and faced the gallery. “I am innocent!” said Estelle.

The courtroom erupted until the Judge banged his gavel three times.

The Judge stood, pointed a finger at the gallery. “As sure as it is raining, I will make sure the truth comes out and the Law is upheld.”

Kelly rushed Estelle away. Dorian passed by ML, Grace and Nate. They looked like they’d been slapped by the Judge’s gavel. “Quite a threesome we have here. A triangulation of the government. Stay well folks. I will see you around.”

ML grabbed his wrist. “So ye will.”

Grace smirked. “You are a fool, Wilde, a fool on a fool’s mission.”

“I’ll second that statement,” said ML.

Nate Stern looked away like a man who suddenly wished or wanted to be somewhere else.

Alice packed away her notes, shed her glasses and then nodded to Dorian. “We are going to win this case. You’re backing a loser.”

Dorian brushed by her close enough to breathe on her. “I like to fight City Hall. It makes me sure I am alive. And I will stay alive.”

He pointed at Grace. “Hear that Madam Mayor and all of you! I will survive.”

He hurried through the side door and caught Kelly and Estelle as they were about to make their escape out the rear door. Dorian said to Estelle, “I need to talk to you. I’ll stop by tonight.”

He playfully punched Estelle’s shoulder. “That was quite a statement you made Estelle. You won over Moon to our side. See ya!”

Estelle kissed his cheek. “You are the best Dorian. But I need sleep. Come by tomorrow morning.”

“Ten works for me,” said Kelly.

“See you at ten,” said Dorian.

If I I’m alive.