You steal lives for political gain, you fucking monster."
Talbot shook his head like a teacher whose student was too stupid to understand a simple equation. "That's the black-and-white version," Talbot said. "But who's really losing here? These kids lose a couple years of their lives, but when they come back their towns aren't criminal beehives anymore. Their schools aren't run-down. Drugs aren't sold on their blocks. It's a small sacrifice for a lifetime of happiness, for them and their families."
"So one life is worth shattering if it saves another, is that right? The ends justify the means?"
"They always do," Talbot said. "And if I'm reelected because of it, if this leads me to the governor's mansion or, heaven look upon me, the White House, it will be because I take steps weaker men aren't willing to take. If you can sacrifice one life to save others, don't you have to do that? As a human being?"
"I don't buy that," I said. "Reggie Powers contributed thousands and thousands of dollars a year to political campaigns. Want to bet if we looked up his history of donating to your fund, we'd find a little more than 'Good Samaritan' money?"
"Reggie had a good heart," Talbot said, and I detected a hint of real sadness. "He was a true hero. But he was compromised. Just like the Reed family, it was only a matter of time before Reggie's heart got the best of him."
"So you're tying up your loose ends," I said. "Dmitri
Petrovsky. Reggie Powers. Ray Benjamin. Everyone who knew about this is dead. And if we hadn't found them first, the Reeds would be, too. All those lives, you're actually trying to say these people's deaths are worth furthering your demented cause?"
"Without a doubt, absolutely. You cannot put a value on one life, Henry. But I can tell you that a hundred lives, a thousand lives, are worth more than a simple few. The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time, with the blood of patriots and tyrants. Those children, these men, were our patriots. They gave their lives to prevent others from suffering in the future. Men like Raymond Benjamin are our tyrants. He represents everything wrong with our culture. And so while he was a means to an end, so, too, did his blood need to water the ground."
"And Daniel Linwood," I said. "Michelle Oliveira.
Caroline Twomey. Their blood funds your campaign, too."
"If my platform must stand on a column these children have provided, so be it. I can live with that. I am sorry, Henry.
Consider yourself a patriot. Your death will save lives."
"One thing before I, you know, go," I said.
"Yes, Parker?"
"The blood might choke the ground," I said, taking my still-connected cell phone from my coat pocket. "But with my plan I get a signal pretty much anywhere."
Talbot looked at me with horror, and right as he raised the gun to fire, I heard the sound of several sirens approaching. Talbot turned around to see a police cruiser pull into the construction site, followed by half a dozen more along with two ambulances.
A dozen cops leaped from their vehicles, guns raised, pointed at the silver-haired senator.
"Drop your weapon!" a cop yelled. "Drop it now or we will take you down!"
Talbot looked at me, and for a moment I saw a fear and confusion in his eyes that brought terror to my heart. He raised the gun an inch, aiming straight and true at me, and for a moment I believed the senator would end my life along with everything else.
Then he lowered the gun, his eyes dropping to the ground, and the gun clattered on the gravel.
Instantly he was pinned down by three police officers, who handcuffed him and then picked the man up. Standing by one of the cruisers were the two detectives who'd questioned Amanda and me after we'd escaped from Huntley.
Their faces were blank, unbelieving, as they watched
Senator Gray Talbot pushed into the back of a police car, which then pulled away.
I stood there in the waning daylight, looked up at the sky and took a long, sweet breath. There was one more task to be done. One more terrible question that needed to be answered.
44
The money trail was there. A spot-check of Gray Talbot's campaign finance reports showed a yearly influx of
$50,000 dollars from a company called Shepherd Incorporated. Shepherd was owned by Reggie Powers, a shell company set up separately from Powers Construction.
Yearly withdrawals from Shepherd, Inc. were being matched to Gray Talbot. And everyone knew what they would tell us.
Finally the story came together. Several of the players,
I knew, had to believe the bullshit Gray Talbot was spewing. Several of them had to feel that what they were doing was right. That to destroy evil, you had to commit evil. That getting your cause noticed was justification for it all.
It was easy to be cynical. Both Amanda and I came from broken homes, where we could never believe a parent would go to such lengths to allegedly protect us.
Gray Talbot hired Raymond Benjamin to be his eyes, his ears, his gun. All orders went through Benjamin, nothing went to Gray. Benjamin was his wall of protection.
Benjamin, a Hobbs County native, approached Dmitri Petrovsky in order to obtain hospital records of infants born with childhood diabetes. They screened children who would be most susceptible to Korsakoff syndrome.
Once Petrovsky came back with a name, a plan was put in motion.
The child would be kidnapped. Petrovsky would develop a nutritional plan that would keep the child's thiamine levels at a level dangerous enough to cause minor brain damage, enough to bring an onset of Korsakoff, but not so severe that it would endanger the child's life.
When the child was gone, when the police search turned up fruitless, that's when Gray Talbot stepped in. He would trumpet his concern for the welfare of the community. Talk about how crime rates were unacceptable. That children were being snatched from their families.
Millions of dollars would be pumped into the communities through donations, federal and state funding. Police forces would be bolstered. Neighborhood watches on patrol. Broken streetlights fixed. Homes made safe again.
And real estate would slowly creep up.
That's when Talbot would enlist the help of Powers
Construction. Reggie would come in with his trucks and his men, level the homes consumed by crack, rebuild houses that would attract more money than the neighborhood had ever seen.
Talbot would gain a wealthier, more affluent constituency. Powers would make millions from the sweetheart deals. And the communities would be better off.
Everybody won.
Except the children.
Amanda sat in the seat next to me, the radio turned to a soft rock station. The music they played was unthreatening, wouldn't offend any sensibilities, lyrics that couldn't harm a fly. That's all we wanted at that moment. Serenity.
Emotionlessness.
The next few hours would be difficult. We didn't want it to start until it absolutely had to.
After I'd gone on record with the police, handed over my cell phone and explained everything that had happened, I called Amanda immediately. I told her what we had to do. I wasn't sure how the night was going to end, but if we didn't ask that one final question, I didn't know if I'd ever sleep again.
I steered the car, unable to help but think about Danny
Linwood, how in some ways we both had lost years from our childhood. The difference was I had a choice. My memories and experiences helped mold me into what I was now. Danny would need time, years perhaps, to even know who he was.
We arrived at the house shortly past ten o'clock. The porch lights were out. The street was dim save a few lampposts. Turning the engine off, I walked up to one, felt the metal, inspected it. It was well cared for. No graffiti. No damage. It was doing its duty without any interference.