Burying the Lede

  “Right this way, Mr. Harrington.”

  Tony nearly jumped out of his shoes. He spun around and began to say, “Holy crap, you…” He stopped when he saw a beast of a man standing five feet behind him in the dark. Illuminated only by the glow of a couple of computer screens in nearby offices, Tony could still see the man stood at least six feet, four inches tall. He had a big fleshy face and closely cropped hair. He wore a dark suit with a less dark turtleneck under the coat. Of more interest to Tony was what the man held in his right hand, a large chrome-plated handgun. It looked like a cannon.

  “I…I…can explain,” Tony said, his heart sinking at the thought of being arrested.

  “Don’t bother,” the man said in a deep, booming voice. “Just come with me. And please do something stupid.” Tony wondered if he had heard him right until the man continued, “I would love to blow your damn head off. I hate reporters. So please, give me an excuse.”

  Tony then knew what people meant when they used the expression “his blood ran cold.” Tony felt like his veins had turned to ice.

  He went through the doorway the beast indicated and followed the hallway to the end.

  “Through the door and down the stairs,” the man said.

  As Tony descended a long, dimly lit staircase into the basement, it occurred to him he was in very serious trouble. Option one or two might have been the better choice.

  The basement didn’t look like a 150-year-old basement. At some point in the past, it obviously had been excavated and converted to business uses. It had high ceilings, office cubicles, and even a flat screen TV on one wall. Unlike the first floor and stairway, it was well-lit by florescent ceiling fixtures. At the back of the room was a wall with a wide glass window and a door with an electronic security lock. The man motioned toward a cubicle off to the side. “Sit.”

  Tony sat.

  The man punched in a code, pulled a card from his shirt pocket and slid it through a card reader, and the door swung open. Inside was the security station for the mansion. TV monitors glowed above two desk stations with small computers and some type of second keypad built into each desk. The wall to the right of the desks was filled with electronic gear of some type. Radios? Tony wondered, his mind racing to consider whether he could figure out how to use one to call for help.

  The beast didn’t allow him to loiter and consider the question. He gave Tony a shove toward the back and through one more doorway. There a short hallway provided access to two small rooms with beds. Obviously these were sleeping quarters for guards, and perhaps other staff, who might have reason to need to stay overnight. The first room was empty, but in the second, lying on the bed and handcuffed to the metal headboard, was Nathan Freed.

  Lisa’s dad looked like he was a hundred years old. His hair was in disarray, there was blood on his cheek and on the sheets, and his chin hung down to his chest.

  “Nate?” Tony said, “Are you okay?”

  At the sound of Tony’s voice, Freed looked up, moaned, and then sagged even further. He tried to speak but simply gurgled as blood seeped out from between his lips.

  “Dear God, what have you done?” Tony seethed. “What are you doing?”

  From the corner of the room behind him, a familiar voice spoke.

  “Welcome, Tony. I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re here.”

  Governor Harris Roskins took two steps forward as Tony turned to his voice. The governor was holding a Louisville Slugger baseball bat in his right hand. He smiled his famous wide smile and said, “I believe you know my good friend here, Mr. Nathan Freed. He came here tonight to kill me. He told me so himself. He brought a gun and everything. Show him, Taurus.”

  The beast pulled a second gun from his side suit pocket.

  “Can you believe that? For all these years, I thought Nathan was a friend and a stand-up citizen, and it turns out he’s a violent criminal. Well, you just never know, do you?” The governor laughed long and hard, and then continued.

  “Well, Tony, we’ve been trying to get my good friend here to tell me how he learned all about my excellent, and may I say successful, campaign strategy. He has been reluctant…no, to be fair, I should say, he has been completely unwilling to tell us who told him. I was about to trade my bat for a more gruesome instrument of persuasion when Taurus here noticed you on the monitors.

  “Would I be right in guessing you’re the source of Mr. Freed’s information, Tony?” The governor didn’t wait for an answer. He suddenly swung the bat fiercely into Tony’s mid-section. With a scream of pain, Tony crumpled to the floor.

  Gasping for air and writhing on the floor, Tony heard Lisa’s dad stir. “No, no,” he pleaded. “Please stop.” The words were slurred, but understandable enough.

  Taurus grabbed the front of Tony’s sweater, lifted him up in the air, and tossed him onto the foot of the bed like an oversized Raggedy Andy. Tony’s head hit the wall and once again exploded in pain. He saw stars and began to sink down onto the mattress.

  “No, you don’t,” the governor said, gesturing to Taurus, who grabbed Tony and sat him up straight. “We are running out of time here. It’s nearly 3 a.m. I have very ambitious staff members, some of whom will start showing up for work shortly after six. You are going to tell me everything you know and who knows it. And you’re going to tell me quickly so we can get you out of here.”

  “You mean so you can kill us too,” Tony coughed out. Then, as the governor took a backswing with the bat, Tony said, “Wait, wait. That’s not necessary. I’m happy to tell you what I know. Just put that thing down. Where do you want me to begin?”

  The governor began asking questions, first about how Tony knew so much. Tony explained about Lisa stealing the file from the office, but left Molly out of the story completely. He also went into great detail about how he had detected inconsistencies and why he had suspicions about Wells’ guilt and Peters’ suicide. Tony was, in fact, trying to think of everything he could to keep talking, assuming that once he was done, he would be done forever. And worse, so would Lisa’s dad.

  Finally, the governor cut him off and got to the crux of the matter. “So now, Tony, tell me who you have told. Every name, every person who knows anything about this, and where every copy of that file is. If you hold back one single fact, Taurus is going to put an ice pick in my good friend Nathan’s eye. And then he’s going to start in on you. And trust me, Tony. I know you think Denny Peters was, shall we say, a ruthless murderer. Let me assure you, Denny was a kitten compared to Taurus.”

  The beast spoke, “If you don’t believe the governor, perhaps I should mention I would have killed you already with a bullet through the brain as you sat on that river bridge…if you hadn’t been so damn lucky.”

  Tony’s fear was beginning to overwhelm him. Despite the pain, he was clear-headed enough to know the beast would not have shared this confession if he expected Tony or Nathan to leave Terrace Hill alive. Tony was shaking but tried to muster as much sincerity in his voice as possible as he said, “Governor Roskins, I swear to you. My only regret in all this is I failed to tell someone.”

  Roskins stepped closer, slapping the barrel of the bat into his left hand.

  Tony held up his palms. “Wait, I know it seems unlikely, but let me explain to you how it happened. When I found the file, which Lisa had left on the PC at my house, I copied it onto a flash drive and decided to go see Mr. Freed. I thought he had a right to hear first and directly from me what had happened. I assumed I would go from his home to the newspaper and then to the police, but he knocked me out cold before I could do anything.”

  Freed began weeping openly but Tony continued. “I woke up in the trunk of his car in your parking lot. You can check that by the way. The tape he bound me with is still out there next to the car.”

  “Well, that explains how you got past the gate tonight, I have to admit,” Roskins said. “But if you don’t mind, I think I will check it out.” He nodded at Taurus, who handed the governor the extra gun and he
aded out the door. “Make it quick,” Roskins called after him, and then, to Tony, “So let’s have it, the copy you put on the thumb drive.”

  Tony stretched his legs out enough to get at the pocket of his slacks. He reached deep into the pocket, and it was empty. Oh no, he thought.

  Roskins knew he had come up empty. “Mr. Harrington, please don’t make me do this,” he said, swinging the gun to the right and pointing it at Freed’s forehead.

  “Just wait! I had it. Maybe it fell out in the trunk.”

  Then Lisa’s dad spoke. “Gluff bochs,” he said.

  “What?” Roskins and Tony asked in unison.

  “Gluff bochs,” Freed said.

  “Well, well,” Roskins smiled. “I believe he’s telling us it’s in his glove box. How convenient. Since Taurus already is outside, I think we’ll just all go out and join him, what do you say?” Roskins chuckled, dropped the bat to the floor, shifted the revolver to his other hand, and pulled a key from his right pocket. He tossed the key to Tony, telling him to uncuff his good friend. Once the two prisoners were standing, the governor gestured for them to lead the way out the door.

  Tony’s mind was working overtime, trying to think of a way to escape before they were back in Taurus’ clutches. There was no doubt in Tony’s mind how this all had to end, from the governor’s perspective. Unfortunately, no brilliant James Bondian escape plan came to mind. The governor stayed back far enough that trying to wrestle the gun away from him was not an option. Tony had zero confidence in his ability to do that anyway, especially in his current condition. And while Tony might be able to take off running, Lisa’s dad was in no shape to move beyond a slow shuffle. Tony couldn’t just abandon him. So like sheep to the slaughter, they quietly mounted the stairs and plodded down the hall, through the anteroom, and out the side door.

  Freed was first and as he went through the door, he seemed to stumble and fall, disappearing from sight. Tony rushed forward to see if he was okay. As soon as he cleared the doorway, he was yanked forcefully to the side by a pair of large hands attached to long, burly arms. Roskins’ angry voice called out from behind them, “Stop, wait! What…”

  As the governor bounded through the door, another pair of arms reaching out from the guard booth grabbed him, shoved something black and oblong up against his throat, and shot 20,000 volts of electricity through his body.

  Roskins dropped like a rock, the gun clattering to the brick walkway. A smiling Rich Davis stepped out of the shadows and kicked the gun out of reach.

  “Harris Roskins,” Davis said, “It is my duty to inform you that you are under arrest on charges of conspiring to commit murder, accessory to murder, false imprisonment, and assault. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right…”

  As Davis finished reading the governor his Miranda rights, Tony recovered from his astonishment and realized all of his questions would have to wait. He then made a sweeping scan of the grounds, looking for Lisa’s dad. He spotted him with two EMTs in front of the mansion. An ambulance was parked in the circle drive. Nathan Freed was being helped onto a stretcher near the ambulance doors. Despite his pain, Tony moved fast and was at Freed’s side in an instant. Before he could utter a sound, Freed reached out and grabbed his arm. The grip was firm.

  “I’m fine, Tony. Those SOBs hurt me, but it’s nothing that won’t heal. Really. I’m okay. I tried to make it look worse than it was, thinking they would go a little easier on me if they were worried about me passing out or dying.”

  Tony once again marveled at the man’s intellect.

  Freed continued, “I’ve asked these nice young people to take me to Mercy downtown. I probably don’t need it, but why not get a little tender loving care after a night like this? You can visit me there later.”

  Freed squeezed Tony’s arm even tighter and leaned forward as he said, “I’m so sorry I hit you so hard. And I’m sorry I locked you in the trunk. I’m sorry for all of this. I just couldn’t not do something. This pathetic bastard killed my baby. I was determined to get him and I knew you would try to stop me. Once you were unconscious I realized I had to take you with me or I risked you waking up and getting to the police first” Tears rolled from Freed’s eyes as he once again said he was sorry. “I was selfish. I so desperately wanted Roskins, I just became blind to everything else. I still can’t believe I hurt you like that. I didn’t know I was capable…”

  A part of Tony’s mind wanted to scream at him. You could have killed me! But it was a lesser part, and Tony had no trouble pushing it into the background. Out loud he said, “Stop it, Mr…Nate. Don’t say a word. You didn’t do a thing. Not to me, not to that guard in the shack, and not to the governor. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. You must be delirious from your ordeal.”

  “Fair enough,” Freed smiled, letting his head fall back on the stretcher’s pillow and releasing Tony’s arm. “But let’s be clear about the guard. I actually didn’t do anything to him.”

  Tony’s face showed his real surprise as he leaned closer and whispered, “So just what did happen?”

  “I found him like that when I walked up to the mansion. My best guess is the governor had Taurus put the guard out of commission after learning I was coming up to the house. When I first arrived at the entrance gate on the street, I had no choice but to tell the guard there I was here to see the governor. That guard recognized me from my previous visits, so he called the house and then waved me through. I was hoping the governor would think it a social call or a bit of campaign business, but obviously he quickly realized I was here about Lisa. When I walked through the door with a gun in my hand, it took Taurus all of three seconds to disarm me. Not my finest hour…”

  “I would say you have a lot to be proud of,” Tony said sincerely. “It took a lot of courage to walk into the devil’s lair and confront him. And if you hadn’t, we would still be sitting in a room in Orney trying to figure out how to convince people the governor of Iowa is a murdering bastard.”

  “Perhaps,” Freed said quietly as the EMTs’ pain killers allowed him to slip away into the bliss of grogginess.

  Tony smiled, nodded, and limped back up to the house as fast as his battered frame would take him. In the distance, Roskins was standing next to a state trooper’s cruiser about to be taken away. Taurus was already locked in the car behind it.

  Davis came up beside Tony, nudging him in the side. “Ow!”

  “Here,” Davis said.

  Tony looked down and saw Davis had both hands held out to him. In one was a gun and in the other a smart phone.

  “What’s this?”

  “The gun is Freed’s I think. I’m taking it out of here discreetly. I wanted you to know so you can back me up in whatever you tell these guys. As far as you know, Freed had never a gun and just came here to talk to the governor. I don’t want to lose my job, or worse, because I tried to keep Lisa’s dad from having to face felony charges.”

  “That won’t be a problem, since I really don’t know anything, assuming you exclude the governor’s ranting and the fact you just showed that thing to me.”

  Davis smiled and slipped the revolver into his suit coat pocket. Tony added quietly, “You’re a good man, Agent Davis.”

  “The second,” Davis continued, “is a smart phone…my smart phone. However, at the moment, you may want to think of it as a high definition camera with the ability to email photos to say, um-m-m, a newspaper editor? I assume you and Ben will want pictures of this. I can’t let you use the DCI camera in my trunk, but you’re welcome to use my personal phone until you get yours back.”

  “Thank you, Rich, really. But tell me, how in the hell did you guys end up here?”

  “Later,” Davis said as he handed over the phone and headed back to lead the team of agents and troopers swarming over the mansion’s grounds. Tony smiled broadly, ignoring his pain. He limped back to the center of the action and began snapping pictures.

  Chapter 28

  It was the biggest
story ever to come out of the State of Iowa, and Tony was right in the middle of it. He and Ben divided up the coverage to avoid Tony writing about himself. Later, Ben said, Tony could write a first-person piece about the experience. The Crier carried multiple stories the next day, telling the full story of the crimes with additional articles on Lisa’s death, the details of the events at Terrace Hill, and the potential political ramifications of the entire affair. Tony or Ben or both also authored at least one article every day for weeks afterward as the governor of the state worked his way through the criminal justice system. Seven articles in all, which originated at the Crier, made the national AP wire service.

  In addition to covering the story, Tony was enough a part of it that he almost immediately began getting requests for interviews. To competitors like the Des Moines Register, Tony was polite but brief in his comments. On the other hand, when Rolling Stone Magazine called, Tony agreed to a lengthy interview with the young woman assigned to the story. He didn’t particularly like being the focus of so much attention, but he knew it would help the Crier, and that would help Ben, and so he said yes to as much of it as he could stand.

  When the Today show called, however, Tony begged off, suggesting Rich Davis was the hero of the story and they really should invite him to be a guest.

  ***

  Davis was indeed the hero. When they finally had a chance to talk, Tony was all over him about how he happened to be there, ready to rescue Tony and Freed as they came out of the mansion.

  Davis explained how he had gone looking for Tony and how he had found him. He admitted that without Tony’s “wild-ass idea” firmly in his head, it would never have occurred to him to approach Terrace Hill from the perspective that the governor and others in the mansion might be the criminals rather than the victims. However, because he did, he had immediately called the DCI’s SWAT team after learning Freed’s car was at the governor’s mansion.