It was raining one July night, the summer of 87 I was in my jammies talking to Maria in Spanish on the phone. Living in L.A., was boring me I wanted to make a move to the East, I told Maria. She said, “esperate amiga! what about me? We have been friends for—— since elementary.” “I would like to go too!” Carrie was laughing the whole time, she had never meant it to be serious. Then after Maria was about to cry Carrie said, “I was just kidding Maria, I never meant you to take me seriously!” Maria started cursing in Spanish and hung up the phone on Carrie. Afterwords, Carrie rolled over on her bed and burstout laughing at Maria’s attitude.

The Burtellie’s were an upper middle class family. They lived in Westwood in Los Angeles. Mr. Burtellie was a very respected defense lawyer in Orange County. He graduated from Harvard with a GPA of 3.8. He knew many influential people in the city because he had done many favors and defended quite a few important people in town. Joanie, Carrie’s mother was a teacher and herself a graduate of Harvard, in Education. Carrie, unfortunately was the only child. The Burtellie’s could not have anymore children due to a genetic mutation that was found through testing in Joanie’s side of the family.

The Burtellie’s owned a $250,000 dollar home had a boat, three cars and two dogs, white terrier’s. Mr. Burtellie drove a BMW and Joanie drove a Chevy Van. Carrie had never had to worry about anything. She was very bright and was gifted for languages and computer’s. Her high school teacher told Mrs. Burtellie, Carrie should apply for a Scholarship to Harvard for Computer Science and a Liberal Arts degree. However, things would not quite work out this way even though Carrie herself loved computers and languages.

Carrie gratuated from high school and had applied to Harvard. Maria her best friend was not accepted and had to settle for Florida State University. As the summer drew to an end, they both were saddened for their timely separation. Maria told Carrie to call her once she got to Harvard. They both exchanged phone numbers and then departed ways.

Mr. Burtellie was involved in a case that same year that Carrie entered Harvard. He was defending a Mafia god father, who had been involved in seven gangland murders and was on trial as the ring leader. Mr. Burtellie, had received numerous death threats from a number of unknown callers over the phone but was not concerned with any of them. When the trial ended the mafia god father walked out of the courtroom a free man. Everyone in Orange Courty new he was guilty. Nevertheless, Frank Burtellie was his defense lawyer and it was his job to defend him. Even Frank knew in his heart that Marconi (scarface) spinocci was a hood to his heart. Yet, he was paid to do a job and he did it. Marconi, now a free man gave Frank a bonus of $500,000.00 dollars, which Frank reluctant to take it, took it anyway.

One night while Frank and Joanie slept two men broke into their home and with silencer’s attached to their gun’s emptied their fifteen round weapons apiece into the Burtellie’s. Then as cleverly as they had gotten into the house they likewise left. It was not until a neighbor noticed that Ms. Burtellie, who usually would work in her garden every fall to get it ready for next summer had not been outside the whole weekend and both cars had not moved for four days! She knocked on the door numerous times, no answer. She went around back where she noticed the back door was ajar. As she entered she smelled something aweful but what was it? She called out, “Mrs. BuTELLIE!!” No answer. She did it several times still no answer. Finally she had reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the second floor of the house. She climbed the steps slowly at the same time continuing to call out to the Burtellies, when she reached the top she did not notice anything strange just that the door to one of the bedrooms was cracked open so she decided to look in there first. As she approached she began to get an even stronger repulsive oder permeating in the air. It was so poignant she started coughing and gagging. She got to the door pushed it open wide enough to see in than began to scream.When the police arrived the place was roped off with yellow ribbon. The bodies were examined and taken to the morgue. The news got out fast. That evening it was the talk of the town. People were saying that it was Marconi, who did it. Other’s were saying if Frank had not defended Marconi he would have been killed for sure! The Police had a real dilemma on their hands. Frank knew alot of people on the police force, whom he had helped with legal matters and now this.
Carrie was doing quite well in school and things just seemed to be moving along whether well. Carrie’s aunt and three uncles on Joanie’s side and Franks only brother were contacted to come and Identify the bodies. The police did not know where to find Carrie. Franks brother, Milo called the school got in touch with the dean and they broke the news to Carrie. Carrie was devistated she cried the whole time she was on the plane coming home for the funeral. At the funeral Milo tried to comfort his niece but much to no avail. Carrie was alone. Everything in the world that she loved and had loved was gone. After the funeral her uncle Milo asked Carrie to come to see him before she returned to school. Milo was the Chief of Police in Anaheim and had something important to tell Carrie.
That weekend after the funeral Carrie prepared to returned to school she wondered what was so important since her parents were now dead. Still, Milo was her uncle, her fathers brother so she stopped by his home. They had a long talk about her father when Milo and he were boys. Finally, Milo told Carrie something that would change her life for ever. He told her that Frank had been executed. Carrie thought at first it was just a joke or why would the mafia kill him didn’t he get Marconi off it does not make sense! “What are you talking about uncle Milo?” Milo hung his head down as not to look Carrie directly in the eyes and said, “your father belonged to a secret organization called ‘The Lamb.’Carrie replied, “the what? The Lamb’s, who are they. Dad never talked about any such thing before. WHO ARE THE LAMB’S!!?” Milo calmed Carrie down and explained to her that ‘The Lamb’ stood for “Lawyers Against Mafia Bosses. Your father took an oath when he joined not to defend any hoods are thugs that were affiliated with the mafia. If he did then he would be executed. An oath he swore too.” Carrie was devistated.
How could something so ridiculous be true, she thought. She asked her uncle how did he know all this. Milo said, “the police found a lamb ensignia burned and etched in the center of your dad’s forehead. It’s symbolic of the rising saviour and his passage to the next world. This is done when someone breaks the code and rules that they took an oath to and swore by.” Carrie was completely confounded and walked out without saying so much as a good bye to her uncle now in tears.
Twelve years later, Carrie now thirty years old, herself a lawyer with her own firm in L.A.. Teamed up with Maria, who too had become a lawyer and they both were doing well. Carrie never made it a priority to talk at all about the murders to anyone including Maria. Normally they shared everything but not this.

One day in walked a man dressed in a black suit approached the receptionist desk and asked to speak to Carrie Burtellie. The receptionist paged Carrie and Carrie came out. The man was Italian and asked if he could speak with Carrie about a case. Carrie found out that the case had to do with the gangland hit of a Korean Food Chain Owner in L.A. in a fight for territory between the mafia warlords. She was offered $200,000 dollars if she took the case and $1,000,000 dollars if she won. She was overwhelmed, she had never had such an offer before. Two weeks later, she decided to take the case.

The case was put on her desk and her and Maria discussed the facts. “The defendent is Marconi (scarface) spinocci.” said Maria. “Didnt your dad defend him some years ago Carrie?” “Yes he did,” replied Carrie. “This guy is real trouble we could be getting ourselves into something we may regret, Carrie.” “I know but it’s to late I took the case and the money,” replied Carrie. “Give it back!” responded Maria. “I said, it’s to late a bit to late for all that,” muttled Carrie. “We have to defend this man and treat him as any other client, O.K. Maria?” requested Carrie. Maria did not say a word. For a month they worked on the case to prepare for trial. When they were ready after discussing the facts with Mr. Spinocci they went into court.The first day of trial went pretty well. Opening Statements, Motioning, Suppressing for nearly five and half hours. When Carrie got home and check here messages in her voice mail that evening she found an unknown male voice imploring her to lose the case are else……. “Marconi is guilty and deserves to die.” Thinking nothing of it she went to bed. For the next few weeks her and Maria proved Marconi was not the trigger man in the murder in fact they proved that Marconi was at a restaurant on Rodeo drive during that time. An eyewitness saw Marconi eating at his favoritetable. The eyewitness was the Maitre d and someother waiter’s!

During the whole trial both Carrie and Maria were changing there attitudes more and more about a hoodlum. Marconi was a thug no doubt but he was a victum of the system like anyone else could be this time. Six weeks into the trial and the prosecutor was advocating a plea bargain. Carrie told her no deal it’s winner take all. In summary, Carrie was firm and made it plain to the jury that a witness saw Marconi and several others at ‘Stephanie’s’ on Rodeo Drive the night of the murder. Marconi did not own Stephanies and was out for a pleasurable evening that was all. In the end the jury rendered a verdict of not quilty due to lack of evidence.

Carrie and Maria had done it. Marconi was free once more. Before Marconi departed he told Carrie and Maria they were invited to an Italian party in Hollywood. He said they would be his special guest if they did not have any objections. They both agreed. Three weeks later they got the invitations to the party. It was crowded. There were people everywher Marconi owned a studio and was popular with the ladies. Forty Seven now not showing to much gray he was still a crowd pleaser. The evening lasted from 8pm to 2am in the morning. Marconi toasted both Carrie and Maria for a job well done and gave Carrie a check for $1.5million dollars.

While all this was going on, Carries house was set on fire. Her Van fire bombed and her firm in town, downtown L.A. was blown up. Around 1:45am she received a call on her cell phone. It was her uncle Milo, he told her what had happened. She immediately told Maria she had to leave without, telling her what had happened, thanked Marconi for the bonus then fiercely left. Maria remained behind. Once in her BMW she hit the gas pedal and burned rubber making loud screeching sounds as she sped off. She watched her house burn to the ground right before her eyes. When the police told her of her business having exploded she got into her car and cried incessantly.

Later about 5am in the morning when it was just about over she drove to her uncles house. She asked him how did he know that her house had been set afire. He replied, “I got a call from ‘The Lamb. They want you out of town and not to practice law here anymore.” Carrie stood motionless not uttering a word tears streaming down her face. Her uncle said, “Carrie baby its to many of them. Your father told me it’s about 700 in the West Coast Division of the organization. They have people in Washington and there are three other division throughout the country. They have a code they wear on the inside of the forearm it’s transparent and made of a special dye made by their chemist. When ever they have meetings their arms are scanned with a special laser and because the dye is made of special ingredients you cannot violate the code. Whatmore, the zodiac symbol is invisible so it can’t be duplicated. I know all this because your father told me. I tried to stop him from joining but it was to late they had convinced him that he was doing a good thing for society.” Carrie screamed out, “can’t you do something!!!?” Milo replied, “I told you it’s to many of them!!!!” Tears now streaming down Milo’s cheeks I loved my brother I didn’t want him to die!”
Just then the phone rang Milo answered and then gave the receiver to Carrie, “it’s for you.” After a minute listening to the voice on the other end Carrie became stiff as a board. She turned white as a ghost then suddenly dropped the phone from her ear, the voice kept saying hello, HELLO, HELLO!!! Maria was dead. Killed in a car accident, while returning home from the party.Milo told Carrie she had to leave town and fast or they would kill her. She left her uncles house and went to a hotel. She stayed there for a few days then contacted her aunt and moved in with her. Marconi was back in the news after three months. This time he had been ID’d by three Koreans, who said they saw Marconi doing the shooting in the gangland murder. The case was over turned and a new trial set. Inaddition, she got a call from the Bar Association that she was to appear before a commitee in two weeks. There was evidence that she paid the Maitre d and others to lie.

She went to the hearing along with her uncle and aunt. They spoke up for her but to little avail they revoked her license. The evidence was overwhelming. She was told she could not practice law in the State of California again. She was convinced now that ‘The Lamb,’ was behind it all.

She returned with her aunt and uncle started making plans to leave town but told them it was not over yet. She was young and would find a way to destroy ‘The Lamb.’ Milo told her your just one person, Maria it dead you have no chance in hell against them. Sobbing she did not listen kissed her aunt and uncle then walked out the door got into her BMW and sped away.

I never thought that the wind could be so cold. I didn’t even know that it screamed, when forced through a car window. Pete is driving. He smells of cigarettes, even with all the wind.
We’ve been moving fast since Charles shot father in the face, so we’ve had less time to look at the towns. There are no clouds in the sky. It is just a dome of rock-hard blue. The sun is an exception, it opens a crack in the blue and blazes through it. The towns around here seem so desolate. Maybe that’s because the sun appears to be frying everything. The desert is barren, much more than I had been told, but fortunately the wind’s screams through the car window keep us cool.

Steve – we’ve had a report from a few officers, down south. Seems like they sighted the four that chopped the nigger. If you’re looking for them, I can get you into contact.
Paul.
PS: You might want to know that there’s a girl in her twenties with them. She’s almost certainly the Carrington daughter, Audra. I guess they kidnapped her after they blew Carrington’s face off. Watch out for her.

I asked Pete to stop for a second today, because I wanted to walk around a bit and stretch my legs. We pass every day in the car, it’s beginning to feel like a coffin. Pete was irritated and he began braying about the fact that the police are after us and that there is no time to waste. Charles entered the conversation and convinced Pete to stop the car for a second. Then he walked around a bit with me. I like Charles, even though he scared me at first. After all, he was the one to shoot father. He’s more gentle than the others, however, and nicer than father was. He’s the only one who still hasn’t yelled at me or hit me. He even protected me, once, when I began screaming and William wanted to beat me. If it weren’t for him, I don’t think I’d have been allowed to keep my diary.
The fresh air, here, is overwhelming. It fills your lungs like water would do; I think I could drown here. It’s different from the stuffy air in my room, more refreshing. Everything seems to be gleaming, though; the sun is like a hammer, and my eyes aren’t used to it. I’m also getting skin-burnt. I was used to dark, comfortable rooms. Why are these boys bringing me in these places?

Steve – news? Cause we’re having some work over here, you know, it wouldn’t be bad if you could get back and lend a hand.
Paul.

Today William shot the nigger at the petrol station, and said that the price of petrol was not as high as everybody kept saying: A full replenishment had only cost him a few cents – the equivalent of the price of a bullet. Kevin said that this was “authentic black humour”, and everybody laughed.
I’m not sure I understand why they enjoy shooting black people. Father said that niggers were dirty and had to be avoided, but he was a decent person and he didn’t go around shooting them. Me, I just don’t like to hear them scream, when they die. Kevin’s the one who enjoys this the most, as I gathered.
How I hate Kevin. He is fat and greasy, and is always sweating. His armpits imbue the whole car with their stench whenever we keep the windows closed, and I hate the way he has shaved his hair. If you aren’t bald, what’s the point of trying to look like it, I wonder. I also hate the way he looks at me, the way he wheezes and the way his sweaty, sausage-like fingers feel on my skin when he touches me. He is a nauseating person, and I hate and loathe him.
I wish I had known earlier that I was going to be kidnapped. I could have brought something with me. It feels like ages since I last changed my clothes.

Steve – what the hell are you doing down there? These guys keep mauling niggers everywhere they go, and you still haven’t caught them?! The people up town were really screaming their heads off yesterday, after the kid was killed. Either you get your hands on them soon, or you’re out of there. Just friendly advice.
Paul.How long is it that we’ve been on the move? How long since I left my father and mother’s house? I can’t remember. I’ve lost track of time. At home I had a wonderful calendar and all, but here I only know that a day has passed when the sun dies out.
Perhaps I write precisely to keep track of time. I had noticed its tendency to fly away, in the past, but I hadn’t thought it to be very important. Days were always the same, anyway. It’s surprising how radically things can change. Perhaps, if I write, my feelings will not evaporate, like they have always done in the past. Perhaps if I write now, then what I felt will not be lost. Why else would I feel this need to write, otherwise?
I was scared of father, at home, but now that Charles has shot him, I almost miss him. Although I was afraid of him, he also used to give me a strange sense of security, which I don’t think I feel any longer. Not with these people, anyway, and especially not with Kevin.
Yesterday night Kevin began arguing with Charles about something. I heard them shouting in the other room. These places they find to sleep in are always cold and dark. I like darkness, but I detest feeling cold. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I was mentioned quite a few times. Pete came into the conversation on Charles’s side, and Kevin stormed out, clearly furious. I guess, insofar as I can tell, that Charles was defending me. I like Charles. Whenever I begin crying or I’m scared, he sits next to me and comforts me. It’s very kind of him.
They were arguing about me, and I don’t know why. I don’t think I care, either. Am I going to die? There are times when I wonder how long there is left for me to live. When someone is kidnapped, normally that person is killed, so I think this will happen to me, too. I wonder if they will bury me after my death.

Steve – you are NOT getting more men. I told you we’ve got work to do, and your team’s large enough already. I’m giving you one more week. Either you find them, or I’m giving this case to someone else.

Four days ago Kevin tried to rape me. What a scumbag. I was just sleeping in my bed, in that mattress full of fleas, when Kevin came in. He sat over me and placed a sweaty hand on my mouth, so that I could not scream. I kicked and shook myself, and did all I could to resist him, but he was incredibly strong.
In retrospect, I don’t think I’ve ever been so utterly terrified in my life. His sweaty fingers moved all over me, I could hear him panting and wheezing in the dark like an animal, his breath was an unbearable stench, he was an unbearable stench, and he was infinitely stronger than me.
I don’t feel like going into detail, but I was pretty lucky. Apparently, I was saved by Charles. He was the one who ran in and got Kevin off me, and he was the one who struggled with him in the dark. (How’s that for a knight in shining armour?) I screamed and William and Pete came in, switching the lights on. They finally managed to get Charles and Kevin off each other. I just screamed all the time, until Charles himself had to silence me.
They all walked out, switching the lights off again and returning me to my warm hole of darkness, where I sat and cried on my bed all night. Hours trickled by, every second stealing a tear before sliding away. The next day, as the sun began rising, Charles came in and sat next to me. He told me not to cry. I kissed him.

Steve – glad you’ve finally managed to find them. Stop hesitating and go get them: This story’s been dragging itself onwards for way too long anyway.
Paul.I’ve fallen in love with Charles, or so I think. Which is really the last thing I needed. We made love, a few days ago, and since then Kevin’s been staring at us with black hatred. Me and Charles never do anything when someone else is around, but of course the whole group knows about it, and no one likes it.
I had never made love with anyone, before. Was it enjoyable? I suppose it was. I did expect it to be a bit better, though.
Yesterday, from the window, I saw the sun setting. For some reason, it made me think of birth. The sun was not burning to watch, for once; rather, it looked like a bright, red coin. A coin with sides so sharp that it was capable of cutting the sky’s womb, and that’s why the latter was bleeding so profusely. The red blood of the sky seemed creamy, as if the blue dome was losing form. Indeed, the whole world was dissolving.
Things melt.

Paul – finally burnt the bastards. Two of them died in the firefight. The other two were captured, but they’ll get the chair anyway. Sorry for having taken so long. What’s gonna happen to the girl, by the way?
Steve.

They were nice, to allow me to keep my diary. Kevin died, fortunately. I don’t miss him at all. His death was grotesque: He ran like an animal, surprisingly fast, given his weight, until he was hit on the spine. He bawled and collapsed, and I still remember the way his glassy eyes looked up at the sky as he bled to death on the floor. I suppose they must have taken his body out of there. Given his stench in life, I can’t begin to imagine what he must be like in death. I always find it very funny, when I think about how similar his death was to a rat’s. William was also shot, I’ve been told, but I didn’t see that.
Charles and Pete were arrested. I’ve been told that Charles has been condemned to death. I think he would be glad if I requested to see him, but I will not. He can go and get roasted on the chair, he and his fucked up romanticism. He was such an ignorant. His notion of love was cheaper than the one I used to find in my father’s hidden books. The most annoying aspect of it all is that I still think I love him. I cried when I was told that he was going to die.
Me, I’m not dead, surprisingly. I expected to, but I did not die. I might die today, or during the following weeks. Otherwise I’ll just wait forty or fifty years, and time will do the job for me.
I think that something was burnt inside me, during these last weeks, but I can’t tell what. This is a nice place, anyway. The rooms are warm enough, and I’ve finally found darkness again.