Inaccuracies and conjecture became the only constants in the case of the Calvary Fellowship robbery. Like a mysterious burning body or a pile of rubble that moments before had been a hospital, the case held the full focus of not only the local news but also the national media. Every manner of talk show host and well-dressed anchor interviewed the principals, several of the Guardians—past and present—and the local chief of police and the detectives in charge and the Texas Rangers and an FBI representative asked to aid in the investigation. Over and over ad nauseam the media replayed the short grainy snippets of video showing a shadow sprinting through the Calvary parking lot, the destruction of the cameras, the unrecognizable figure in the janitorial uniform pushing a dolly across the floor of the garage amidst the throbbing lights of emergency vehicles. Televisions flashed shots of the vandalized hallway and the counting room edited with the blank stare of Woody’s driver’s license photo and the shocked eyes of churchgoers in their Sunday best covering their mouths, chimps huddling on a limb. Journalist after journalist strolled face-to-camera across the green lawn of the Calvary Fellowship Church compound, stopping in pithy conclusion with the great glass dome of the Worship Center in histrionic backdrop.
The words daring, unprecedented, brazen, calculated, and ingenious lost all meaning as the media refused to innovate. Soon other words began creeping into the reports, words like: inept, clumsy, bumbling, and unprofessional, all used to describe the authorities' handling of the case. This hyperactive ventricle of incompetence pumped suspicion among many that a conspiracy of unknown origin was afoot. Some of the many vexing questions: how had the empty smoke grenade canisters gone missing from evidence? Why hadn't the police or the Guardians searched the chute in which the robber hid? With a Dog Boy tag amidst the mayhem, where were the Dog Boys’ interviews? Why weren’t certain Dog Boys prime suspects in the case? Where was their benefactor’s deposition? A few camera crews and journalists had found the Dog Boys and attempted engagement but they never gave any statements. One of the crews almost lost their lives in a fire started by a Roman candle fight in an RV. Protocol in church security came into question after certain revelations: only one guard assigned to the entire building, failure to replace the damaged cameras in the counting room.
As the months dragged on, this bloated corpse of an investigation drew flies in the form of conspiracy theorists appearing on radio and television, peddling outlandish arguments for anarcho-atheist plots by shadowy organizations, radical police involvement and quite a few accusing Brody Lassiter of robbing his own church. These speculations gained so much traction that Brody Lassiter's stiff smirk made frequent appearances on prominent outlets. His once only rumored about temper floated to the surface as he defended himself against accusations such as indebtedness to the mob or that he had run out of money to pay contractors hired to expand his ministry to Latin America and China, that he needed this public victimization to launch his recent war against the rise of neo-atheism. Or maybe he was just a covetous marauder who could never seem to pillage enough money from his gullible parishioners to finance his lavish lifestyle.
I’m a simple preacher, he told them with his famous smile. I’m a man of God and there isn’t one spec of evidence in my long history of being such a man that I have ever strayed from that position. Why the lifestyle, though? why all the cars and the homes? and the planes? and the general grandness of your existence? God has provided for me; my people have seen fit to provide for me; but again, how is my lifestyle, as you call it, any indication, any proof that I have stolen from my church? we have been victimized by thieves, by agents of Satan, plain and simple; do you believe in Satan, sir? There’s the question of mob connection. Outlandish. So you deny any connection with organized crime? Flat-out and any suggestion of such a connection is, in my opinion, grounds for libel. Mr. Lassiter, have you ever dallied in art? Art? Art, like fine art? I’m afraid I don’t follow. Like paintings, sculptures. I own, the church has invested in, art. Have you ever dealt with art of questionable origin? Sir? We have some statements by a few people, people like one Samuel Desky of Portland, Oregon, who is in prison right now by the way, who says that a few years ago, he may have passed a painting by Giotto, a Giotto missing since the late eighties, to someone he believed to be an employee of yours. Preposterous. Really? What, sir, does this have to do with my church being robbed of a half a million dollars? We were hoping you could tell us, Mr. Lassiter.
Brody Lassiter slammed the door of his limo before his Guardian driver could get a hand on it and then pointed a shaking finger at his assistant who appeared a chimeric mixture of mouse and man sitting across from him. Listen, you little whelp, you get me a meeting with Teague; I don’t wanna hear he’s in Bangkok or Siberia; that bullshit won’t wash anymore; we’ve got problems and he had better start showing some interest or he’s gonna regret it. His assistant lifted his tablet and began typing, another Guardian sneaking a look at his efforts. Is that what you want me to tell him, sir? Make it hotly clear that I am in need of conference with him, boy, that’s what I want you to tell him; make it soon, no excuses. Yes, sir. Why isn’t this fucking limo moving?
The words daring, unprecedented, brazen, calculated, and ingenious lost all meaning as the media refused to innovate. Soon other words began creeping into the reports, words like: inept, clumsy, bumbling, and unprofessional, all used to describe the authorities' handling of the case. This hyperactive ventricle of incompetence pumped suspicion among many that a conspiracy of unknown origin was afoot. Some of the many vexing questions: how had the empty smoke grenade canisters gone missing from evidence? Why hadn't the police or the Guardians searched the chute in which the robber hid? With a Dog Boy tag amidst the mayhem, where were the Dog Boys’ interviews? Why weren’t certain Dog Boys prime suspects in the case? Where was their benefactor’s deposition? A few camera crews and journalists had found the Dog Boys and attempted engagement but they never gave any statements. One of the crews almost lost their lives in a fire started by a Roman candle fight in an RV. Protocol in church security came into question after certain revelations: only one guard assigned to the entire building, failure to replace the damaged cameras in the counting room.
As the months dragged on, this bloated corpse of an investigation drew flies in the form of conspiracy theorists appearing on radio and television, peddling outlandish arguments for anarcho-atheist plots by shadowy organizations, radical police involvement and quite a few accusing Brody Lassiter of robbing his own church. These speculations gained so much traction that Brody Lassiter's stiff smirk made frequent appearances on prominent outlets. His once only rumored about temper floated to the surface as he defended himself against accusations such as indebtedness to the mob or that he had run out of money to pay contractors hired to expand his ministry to Latin America and China, that he needed this public victimization to launch his recent war against the rise of neo-atheism. Or maybe he was just a covetous marauder who could never seem to pillage enough money from his gullible parishioners to finance his lavish lifestyle.
I’m a simple preacher, he told them with his famous smile. I’m a man of God and there isn’t one spec of evidence in my long history of being such a man that I have ever strayed from that position. Why the lifestyle, though? why all the cars and the homes? and the planes? and the general grandness of your existence? God has provided for me; my people have seen fit to provide for me; but again, how is my lifestyle, as you call it, any indication, any proof that I have stolen from my church? we have been victimized by thieves, by agents of Satan, plain and simple; do you believe in Satan, sir? There’s the question of mob connection. Outlandish. So you deny any connection with organized crime? Flat-out and any suggestion of such a connection is, in my opinion, grounds for libel. Mr. Lassiter, have you ever dallied in art? Art? Art, like fine art? I’m afraid I don’t follow. Like paintings, sculptures. I own, the church has invested in, art. Have you ever dealt with art of questionable origin? Sir? We have some statements by a few people, people like one Samuel Desky of Portland, Oregon, who is in prison right now by the way, who says that a few years ago, he may have passed a painting by Giotto, a Giotto missing since the late eighties, to someone he believed to be an employee of yours. Preposterous. Really? What, sir, does this have to do with my church being robbed of a half a million dollars? We were hoping you could tell us, Mr. Lassiter.
Brody Lassiter slammed the door of his limo before his Guardian driver could get a hand on it and then pointed a shaking finger at his assistant who appeared a chimeric mixture of mouse and man sitting across from him. Listen, you little whelp, you get me a meeting with Teague; I don’t wanna hear he’s in Bangkok or Siberia; that bullshit won’t wash anymore; we’ve got problems and he had better start showing some interest or he’s gonna regret it. His assistant lifted his tablet and began typing, another Guardian sneaking a look at his efforts. Is that what you want me to tell him, sir? Make it hotly clear that I am in need of conference with him, boy, that’s what I want you to tell him; make it soon, no excuses. Yes, sir. Why isn’t this fucking limo moving?
Edit 12.1.2018