The Heritage Paper

by Derek Ciccone

“I applaud your courage, Mr. Chester, to come out against the powerful Kingston machine,” Baer’s voice roared. “But I’m sure you’re aware that Aligor Sterling will deny that it was him on the tape. He will also attack your credibility—trust me, I know first hand—and he will focus on how your once promising career is now in the toilet, and accuse you of trying to make a big score at any cost. He will also go after the fact that your wife is a crackhead who is doing time in prison.”

  Veronica wanted to jump into the radio and knock Baer in the teeth. That was a total cheap shot!

  But Zach stayed composed. “It was crystal-meth, not crack.”

  “Whatever—you see my point—can you prove that it’s Sterling on that tape?”

  “The tape was provided to me by Ben Youkelstein, his longtime partner.”

  “Who had a falling out with Sterling, so his motivation could be questioned. And like most of your sources, he was born during the Woodrow Wilson administration, so his cognitive abilities might come into question.”

  Whose side was he on?

  “I’m sure you can get a voice expert to test it against Sterling’s voice,” Zach said.

  “Funny you say that, because we had the world’s premiere voice expert do preliminary tests on the tape, and their initial report is that it is a match.”

  “So you are saying it’s a match?” Zach repeated. There was something about his voice—he was up to something.

  “Did I stutter? We will do more extensive tests today, but in the meantime, I’d advise Mr. Sterling and Mr. Kingston to get a good lawyer. Good thing I didn’t throw out my acceptance speech, huh?”

  “Now that you’ve confirmed that it is indeed Aligor Sterling on the tape,” Zach said, “there’s one other part of it that I’d like to play.”

  “The more the merrier.”

  When Baer hit play, Youkelstein asked Sterling, “But for your plan to work, Kingston has to win—what if he loses?”

  “He won’t lose,” Sterling said firmly, “I’m so confident I bet a billion dollars on it.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You know I never leave anything to chance, Ben. That’s why I provided Theodore Baer a billion dollars in a bank account in Zurich. All he had to do to make his money was to make sure he didn’t win the election, even if that self absorbed imbecile couldn’t understand the implications of doing so. But while dumb, he still wasn’t stupid enough to make those anti-Semitic comments the day before an election. And it wasn’t a coincidence that his college term paper suddenly showed up.”

  “So the election is fixed?” Youkelstein asked, sounding surprised.

  “You fix a sink, an election is bought!” Aligor shouted.

  Ding, ding, ding ...

  Baer had always bragged about not working with the standard five-second delay because he, to use his words, “wouldn’t want anyone to wallow in ignorance for five seconds.”

  Guess he could throw out that acceptance speech, Veronica thought. She smiled at the radio, and she could feel Zach smiling back.

  Chapter 84

  As much as the last two days seemed as long as centuries, the day after the election flew by at warp speed. The fallout to Zach’s appearance on the Baer Cave came with an equal swiftness.

  Veronica spent the day at the hospital—it seemed like the safest place to hide out from the feeding frenzy. Youkelstein fell in and out of sleep, while Flavia continued to keep her bedside vigil.

  Maggie and Jamie continued to act like kids. They played with blood pressure cuffs and stethoscopes. They laughed and fought, and then laughed again. It warmed Veronica’s heart.

  The CIA was the first to react to Zach’s appearance on the Baer Cave, denying any involvement regarding Heinrich Müller, and pointing to previous inquiries and release of their documents on the subject. Veronica thought the haste of their response showed that they’d hit a nerve. Which meant she’d probably need to check her phone for bugs for the rest of her life.

  The first arrest was Theodore Baer. And like the bully he was, the minute someone fought back against him he surrendered. He admitted to taking the bribe to lose the election, but denied any involvement in any bigger plot. He claimed to only have discussed the transaction over the phone with a man who called himself Otto. He agreed to testify against Sterling, hoping to save himself from being charged with treason and facing the death penalty. But conspiring to fix a presidential election wouldn’t come without a lot of years behind bars.

  After authorities grilled Youkelstein for hours in his hospital room, a search warrant was served on Kingston’s estate. Eddie’s body was found loaded in a sailboat, prepared for a burial at sea before the authorities could find it. The NYPD credited Eddie with uncovering the diabolical plot as part of his job as the head of Kingston’s security team. The accepted theory was that Eddie was killed for what he’d discovered.

  Sterling predictably denied that it was his voice on the tape, or that he was the mysterious man called Otto who’d paid off Baer. But according to news reports, when the FBI threatened to send him to Israel and let them interrogate him, he suddenly got very chatty and admitted his role in the Apostles and 9/11. He became the villain he always planned to be, just not the way he expected.

  By mid-afternoon, Jim Kingston was missing and presumed on the run, which had to be a first in US election history. At three o’clock, Senator Langor held a press conference in his native Florida, to disassociate himself from any knowledge of Kingston and Sterling’s plot, and took himself out of any consideration of becoming president, effectively resigning.

  But as Maggie pointed out, he really had no position to resign. The US presidential election was not a popular vote, as many believe—it is decided by the vote of the Electoral College, which wouldn’t cast their votes until December.

  An emergency caucus was called. There were discussions of holding a “do-over” election, but nobody was sure if that was even constitutionally possible. It was a mess!

  But there was some good news—while tensions were still high in the Middle East, it looked like war would be averted.

  At four o’clock, Veronica’s stomach began to grumble. The only thing she’d consumed all day had been coffee.

  Flavia joined her in the search for food. But even though the bad guys had been rounded up and hauled away, Veronica was still hesitant to leave Maggie and Jamie behind. They had finally crashed, now sleeping side-by-side on a cot, and she didn’t want to disturb them. Ben agreed to watch them. Veronica agreed, which would have seemed unfathomable just a day ago.

  The two women found a secluded table in the hospital cafeteria and picked at pre-packaged salads in plastic containers and drank diet sodas.

  Flavia eyed her intently. “Are you okay? You seem troubled by something.”

  “I’m just worried about Maggie and Jamie. It’s not every day you learn your children are …”

  “Hitler youth—like me?” Flavia said, matter of fact.

  “I’m sorry, I forgot it also affected you. It must have been hard to learn that?”

  She shrugged. “Not really. It’s not exactly something I’m going to brag about, but it’s not like I was diagnosed with a terminal disease.”

  Veronica looked surprised. “With all due respect, how can it not bother you? When you see the things that man did and then look at the history of violence that followed him from Harry Jr. to Ellen’s other son to …”

  Flavia looked annoyed. “Don’t even say Carsten. That was one fight that got out of hand and you know it. He didn’t invade Poland.”

  Did everyone know about their fight? “But if you would have seen the look in his eyes. Like there was something inside of him, urging him to do it again.”

  “I want to hit you right now, does that make me a bad person?”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “What I’m trying to say is, we all have good inside us. But we’re also human, which means we’re flawed and full of temptation. In the end, we wil
l be judged by our actions and each individual is responsible for their own actions. It doesn’t matter who your parents are, how much money you have, or if you were hugged enough as a child. It doesn’t matter what our beliefs are, or ideals, or genetics, or any of it. I’ve given in to my dark side too many times to discuss, but it had nothing to do with being the daughter of a spy, or the great-granddaughter of a mass murderer. We all do the best we can, but that usually isn’t good enough, so then we must ask for help.”

  “Who do you ask?”

  Flavia pointed to the hospital chapel in the distance. “I ask Her to lead me from temptation and deliver me from evil. Maybe you should try it sometime—but asking for help wouldn’t work with a narcissist like yourself.”

  “A narcissist?” Veronica replied, annoyed.

  “It’s all about you, Veronica. You really believe you are responsible for whether your children turn out good or bad. It might be noble to get them to do their homework and eat their vegetables, but in the end, they’re the only ones who will guide their path.”

  “If trying to protect my children makes me a narcissist, then so be it.”

  “What you’re trying to protect is your God complex, not your children. If it were true that life was predestined for them, then you wouldn’t be the master of their future. But lucky for you, the genetics angle is nothing but nonsense, so you can go on deceiving yourself.”

  They quietly finished their lunch, as Flavia’s stinging words set in. When they returned to the room, Maggie and Jamie were alone.

  “Where is Ben?” Flavia asked.

  Maggie handed them a note. It read: I have so little time left in this world to fight for justice. I won’t waste one more moment in this hospital room. Thank you for all your help—I will never forget it. Ben.

  “He just left?” Veronica asked.

  “Just the way he rolls,” Maggie replied with a shrug.

  Veronica shook her head in disbelief—he had more energy than the rest of them put together. She looked at her watch. “We better be getting home—you two have school tomorrow.”

  Jamie did a dramatic sigh and fell on the bed. “Oh, Mom—you always ruin all the fun!”

  “I don’t know what you are so worried about, Jamie, you’re suspended anyway,” his sister taunted him.

  Veronica had forgotten about that. She wondered if Principal Sweetney would commute his sentence for saving the world.

  Yeah right.

  Jamie buried himself in the blanket. “Not Uncle Phil and Aunt Val!”

  “You’re going to have to scrub the toilets,” Maggie piled on.

  It might be as close to normal as things ever got.

  As they left the room, they were met by a surprise visitor on his way in.

  Veronica gave Zach a big hug. “You did it,” she said.

  “We did—we all did it,” he replied humbly. “But I think you should lay low for a few days. The media will be going full force on this story trying to make connections to Ellen, and there already is a video out there of Maggie running with a gun on Kingston’s estate.”

  “You could stay at the farm,” Flavia offered.

  Veronica looked hesitant. One minute she was calling her names, the next she’s offering shelter.

  Zach agreed. “I think it would be a good idea. I’m staying in the city for a couple days to tie up the loose ends on this story, so why don’t you take my car.” He tossed Veronica the keys.

  “I promise—no more lectures,” Flavia said with a smile. It was the same as Jamie’s—the one that was impossible to turn down.

  Maggie, now in her second childhood, agreed. “C’mon, Mom—it’ll be fun!”

  Veronica wasn’t concerned about fun—safe was what she was going for. “I just need to stop home to pick up some things and feed Picasso. Then we can go.”

  Maggie and Jamie jumped up and down with joy.

  Chapter 85

  Flavia walked past Stuyvesant Park, en route to her Jeep. Her feet were killing her, but she would never admit it was connected to her choice of footwear.

  When she got in the vehicle, she removed her heels and flipped on the radio.

  She still didn’t know what to make of Veronica, but thought it would be nice to have some company at her lonely farmhouse, especially the sounds of children. She was about to put the key in the ignition to start her journey back home, when she felt the sharp pain in her neck. A pointed object penetrated her skin. She immediately grew dizzy and felt sick. The world began spinning.

  She used all her strength to turn to look at the man who had hidden in the backseat. As her breaths became shorter, he explained to her why he was sucking the life out of her.

  Her mind flashed to the first time her mother brought her to the farm in Rhinebeck, when she was just a little girl. It was the first time she had ever seen the fall foliage. She was amazed by the leaves falling from the trees. Their beautiful colors and how they so gracefully cascaded to the ground. She sat behind the barn and watched the leaves for hours.

  And here she was, over forty years later, just as awestruck as the first time she’d watched them. Flavia watched every last beautiful leaf hit the ground, and when the last one floated softly to the ground …

  Everything went dark.

  Chapter 86

  Rush hour was the culprit in what turned out to be a two-hour journey from Manhattan to Pleasantville.

  Veronica phoned in an order from Pleasantville Pizza on the way. Coffee for breakfast, hospital cafeteria for lunch, and a pizza dinner wasn’t exactly the diet of champions, but at least it now looked like they might live long enough to develop diet-related, long-term health issues. And that was good news.

  They ate with Veronica’s mother, who actually agreed that it was a good idea to hide out for a few days at the farm in Rhinebeck. Her prisoner for the day, TJ, also joined them for dinner, as his father would be off breaking the story of the century for the next few days.

  Once the kids were ushered off to pack for the trip, Veronica gave her mother all the details. Except for a small omission concerning the identity of Maggie and Jamie’s great-great-grandfather. She also softened the blow on Eddie—sticking to the ‘dying a hero’ story.

  Veronica couldn’t believe that Eddie was gone. But she couldn’t find tears right now for him. Like with Ellen, Veronica needed to sort out her feelings, but he did keep his promise—he kept her kids safe.

  Veronica traded in her sweater and skirt for NYU sweatshirt and jeans. Jamie changed into a colorful flannel shirt and cargo pants that made him look like he came off the cover of a fall catalog. Maggie was back to her all black ensemble that she wore with her usual ponytail. The images of normalcy.

  Veronica gathered children and toothbrushes, and then they were off, heading upstate in Zach’s Audi. She clicked on 1010 WINS, the all-news station, as they knifed through the darkness of the Taconic Parkway.

  Bad decision.

  There was just no avoiding their current reality. The newscaster grimly reported the death of Jim Kingston. He was found in a Manhattan apartment building owned by Aligor Sterling, dead of an apparent suicide.

  Talk about a reversal of fortune. One minute he was elected leader of the free world, and twenty-four hours later he was in a bunker taking his life, just like his great-grandfather—at least according to the history books. Whatever the details of either death, Veronica couldn’t deny the trail of destruction that was handed down from generation to generation. She did the math. Kingston’s death left three members remaining in the bloodline.

  Veronica switched off the radio, and drove the rest of the way to the soothing sound of silence. They arrived at Flavia’s around ten. Maggie and Jamie had been sleeping since they hit the Taconic, but awoke as soon as they hit the gravel of Flavia’s driveway. Veronica parked the Audi behind Flavia’s Jeep and they moved to the front door, carrying their overnight bags.

  To Veronica’s surprise, the door was open. “Hello,” she shouted upon enterin
g.

  A note was left for them in the kitchen. Flavia had gone into town to check on something at her art gallery and would return shortly. It instructed them to put their items in the guest bedroom and make themselves at home.

  The sleepy children dropped their bags in the kitchen and looked like their last fumes of energy were finally zapped. Pretty understandable—not their usual con jobs to get Mom to do all the heavy lifting for them. Veronica grabbed their bags and carried them into the guest room.

  She heard the door slam behind her.

  She turned and attempted to open it. It was jammed. She jarred it a few more times. It wouldn’t budge. She had underestimated them once again.

  “Maggie! Jamie! This isn’t funny.”

  She heard Maggie scream and her heart jumped. Footsteps headed toward the door. Along with a rhythmic tapping she recognized.

  She pounded on the door, “Let me out of here!”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t do that, Veronica,” a man’s voice said.

  Chapter 87

  “Ben, is that you?” Veronica asked. “What is going on?”

  “Think of me as a gypsy moth, Veronica. I have come to defoliate your family tree of evil.”

  Maggie screamed out, “Mom—help!”

  Her world began to spin out of control. She banged harder on the door.

  “Your children are fine, Veronica. Let me set the scene for you. I’m holding Maggie down with the tip of my umbrella. I’m just going to lightly prick her with it and she will go to sleep. I am holding a gun in my other hand at Jamie’s head, but I don’t want to use it. I’m hoping he will cooperate and I will put him to sleep, also.”

  “No!” Veronica shouted. “I don’t understand—why you are doing this?”

  “Oh, I believe you do. And I think deep down you have the same fears I do about what the future brings for them. You know of their genetic makeup—they are the last leaves on the most evil family tree in history. The world cannot allow this disease to spread any more.”