This fictional story covers the life of Nick Packard from his youth to becoming a wealthy real estate developer in Boston, Massachusetts. After years of great success in one of the hottest real estate markets in America, Nick runs into bad luck in the 1980's as his once dynamic business falls into serious trouble and is choked By mafia infiltration. On top of this the disastrous real estate market crash hits in the late 1980's. One calamity after another strikes making this a suspenseful thriller. The places, real estate development details and economic events are real. The plot is fictional. Baby boomers will love the details of the period.
Dancing on the Edge
By Shepard C. WilbarAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2012 Shepard C. Wilbar
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4772-7180-3Chapter One
November 1945
Two hours after the birth on November 2, Johnny entered the maternity ward. His excitement was high. "Franny, it's a boy. Just what we hoped for. It's exhilarating! Are you OK?"
Frances replied, "I'm fine, Johnny, but where have you been? They called you repeatedly from the front desk without any answer. Where have you been?" she repeated.
"I had a meeting tonight which couldn't be avoided." It was three a.m. "Honey, you know my schedule, and also know that I work crazy hours to support you and Chad. And now baby Nicholas Allen. That's what we named him, right?" He smelled of alcohol and his excitement seemed greater than just that. Earlier he had shot up with heroin!
"Nicholas is a fine name," Frances agreed. Frances had just gone through many hours of labor and given birth to an eight-pound boy who was now named Nicholas Allen Packard. A choice they had tentatively agreed upon months ago. Their older boy was named Shadrach after Johnny's great uncle. Chad, as he was nicknamed, was now a playful and happy two-year-old. Chad seemed very crafty at his young age, while Nick was showing extreme alertness upon birth and had a special quality. Both Frances and Johnny thought that Nick might be destined for something big!
John W. Packard, born the son of a war hero, followed a lifelong course of crime that began in childhood. As a small schoolboy he was running numbers as a delivery boy for "Lord" Barrington, a local bookie and criminal with a lucrative business. His Anglo-Saxon community had that typical English penchant for gambling.
Johnny was a quick mover and could run as fast as a jackrabbit, which saved him from trouble on many occasions. He had a knack for conning just about anyone. One time, in 1937, young Johnny convinced Guiseppi from the North End of Boston to purchase twenty-four cases of hijacked second-rate scotch, which he and his youthful clan had stolen from a truck after Johnny had held a gun to the driver's head. He charged Guiseppi a cut rate for this "high-quality" scotch and the North End crew sold it for many times its real value. This was successful because Johnny's clan had neatly changed the labels and resealed the cartons.
Guiseppi sold the scotch for a huge profit. It must have been halfway decent because no one knew the difference and no complaints were ever made! Johnny had turned a handsome profit for his clan and an even better one for the Mob. He now had an Italian paisano with whom he'd arrange other lucrative deals in the future. It was unusual talent for a thirteen-year-old. By age twenty-two Johnny Packard had attained an important position in the hierarchy of crime in America. The young Englishman had established a high level of respect from his clan and from the Italians in the North End. He holstered a .45 automatic at all times which he seldom used. It was more for effect. But if he did, his opponents suffered drastically.
The activities of his clan came to cross all lines, including hijacking, loan sharking, prostitution, and other robberies. He never worked a day in his life for anyone else, much less took orders. What stood out about Johnny, however, was the love and respect he had for his family and the pride taken in them.
Johnny hardly reflected his ancestral patterns and habits. His known ancestry had been traced forward from Thomas Packard I, who was born shortly after Columbus discovered America. Thomas was a Knight of the First Order in His Majesty's Court, and an extremely honorable man and great family protector. Thomas's son, Nicholas J. Packard, was a magistrate of the High Court in London. He lived on an estate in Sible Hedgingham, Essex, England, and lived a serene and long life to the ripe old age of ninety-two.
The first of the English Packards to sail to America was Samuel, who sailed on the Griffin in 1633. He landed and settled in Boston, but was banished from the colony to Portsmouth, Rhode Island, for being a follower of Ann Hutchinson, the religious zealot who was excommunicated from the Church of Boston by the Puritans and moved to Acquidineck Island, which Samuel had purchased from the Narragansett Indians. This island would one day include the famous Newport, Rhode Island—the area where the summer homes of the super wealthy such as the Astors and Vanderbilts were built.
Samuel became one of the richest men in America and opened the first ironworks there. He would have been listed in the Fortune 500 had it been in publication back then! The Packards made great inroads in America into politics and industrial development.
Johnny's father was named George Packard, and was a highly decorated World War I hero who had been awarded many medals, including a Purple Heart and a Congressional Medal of Honor. He lived with his wife and two children and worked in his later years as a recruiter, up until his untimely death at age forty-four, when an artillery shell inadvertently exploded at his Long Island base and instantly snuffed out his life.
In 1943, Johnny Packard tied the knot with his high school sweetheart, Frances O'Malley, an attractive Irish brunette, who was his only love ever. He had the ability to separate business and family. He never uttered a word to Frances about his business activities. Now he had two fine sons whom he vowed to steer away from crime.
In late November, after the birth of Nicholas, Johnny and his top two lieutenants went to a meeting in New York City with a crew there to divide the spoils of a major hijacking. They had done all the dirty work and were owed a major stake. When Johnny never returned Frances got paranoid, and rightfully so. They had all been taken out, and their bodies would allegedly show up years later in shallow graves located by the FBI!
Chapter Two
Summer 1957
The double doors below the EMERGENCY sign at Browning Memorial swung open. There first appeared a police officer, followed by a gurney being maneuvered by two EMTs. The boy on the stretcher lay motionless, his eyes staring in a deathlike gaze. The only sign of life he showed was a choking attempt to vomit. A nurse held the boy's head and shoulders up to prevent his choking. The scene was frantic as nurses and technicians rushed toward the gurney. A resident doctor took his vital signs. The boy was clinging to life.
His brother, Chad, followed the procession and seemed to be in a state of shock. His blond hair was matted against his forehead from a drenching sweat caused by the extreme humidity of the dog days of early August. His face was pale, and although Chad had celebrated his thirteenth birthday just last week, his drawn look made him appear to be well beyond his years.
An admitting secretary called to Chad, saying, "Son, please come here. We need the patient's information." Chad continued to stare off into the distance and didn't respond. He seemed almost catatonic, lost in space and time.
A third boy, Danny Levin, who was part of the group of kids bicycling back from the lake that afternoon and had been trailing Chad, stepped forward and sat in a metal chair beside the admitting desk. The secretary, a burly, middle-aged, and proper bitch with shiny brown hair pinned up in a bun, spoke in a harsh, seemingly indifferent tone.
"What's your name, young man?"
"Uh, Danny, ma'am. Levin. Danny Levin."
"Who's your friend?"
"Who? Chad or Nick?"
"The patient, son! The patient!"
"Oh, Nick. Packard. Nicholas."
"Is that Nicholas Packard, son?"
"Yes!"...
