(2012) Political Suicide

by Michael Palmer

  “It’s a weak case if you don’t have the murder weapon, though,” Lou said. “Good thing I got you that ballistics report.”

  “Elias came across a battalion supply sergeant who was willing to testify against Brody. He would have provided circumstantial evidence linking Brody and Horgath to armory thefts up and down the East Coast. Still, we needed that weapon. I couldn’t very well have waltzed into a police station and said, ‘Here, I think this is the gun used to kill Elias Colston.’ I needed another way to get the gun into the right person’s hands.”

  “It had to have been terrible for you,” Lou said.

  “Shooting Elias? Killing my best friend? Yeah, Lou, it was worse than terrible. It was the hardest damn thing I’ve ever had to do. I refused again and again, but Elias wouldn’t let up. He was like a terrier on a rat.” Papa Steve looked away and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “Eventually you caved in.”

  “Imagine if Cap asked you to kill him,” Papa Steve said. “And you knew it was the right thing to do. You knew in your gut that it had to go down that way. Brody needed to be stopped.”

  “That’s why you transferred to Mantis,” Lou said.

  “It was before Elias became ill, of course. He had his suspicions about Mantis and Brody. Mark’s uncharacteristically heroic death, Brody’s Ph.D. thesis, the Reddy Creek incident, and the missing reporter’s blog. But he didn’t have solid proof.”

  “You got yourself embedded with Mantis so you could follow Brody. That’s how you found out about the Mantis drug. You knew all along.”

  “Mark and the others had died with incredible valor. Elias and I would never do anything to taint that. We had to eliminate Brody without having anyone learn about the chemicals the men were getting every day.”

  Lou could not stand back any longer. He put his arms around Papa Steve and made no attempt to stem his own tears. The real hero in the piece was the man there with him. “I’m so fucking proud to know you,” Lou said.

  “Once you found that CD, all I wanted was your help getting the gun to the right people. End of story.”

  “In the end, nobody was supposed to learn about Mantis,” Lou said.

  Papa Steve nodded. “That’s what Elias wanted. That’s what he died for.”

  “With Brody gone, Mantis would be gone,” Lou said.

  “And so would its secret. We needed to take down Brody without having to expose the world to the truth, without having to leave a black mark on the graves of those heroic young men. They would forever be associated with one of the most horrific examples of human experimentation since the Nazis. That would have been their legacy. For Mark, for the others, I did what had to be done.”

  “Whatever it takes,” Lou said. “You picked the day because you knew Brody went to see Manolo each and every Wednesday. You knew he wouldn’t have an alibi that would hold up. He’d say he was at the military parade because he couldn’t very well confess to where he really went.”

  “Elias must have said something to Jeannine,” Papa Steve added. “Of course, she wouldn’t have known it was his final good-bye. But I’m sure he spoke from the heart, because even though he didn’t pay as much attention to her as he might have, he loved Jeannine to pieces.”

  “It was a kiss,” Lou said, remembering her description. “A very special kiss.”

  “Well, whatever he said or did, I’m sure it made her realize the mistake she was making with Gary, so she ended the relationship.”

  “And Gary showed up at the Colstons’ place, drunk and despondent. Wrong place, wrong time.”

  “He must have got there just after I left,” Papa Steve said.

  Silence.

  “What happened out there with the men, Lou?” Papa Steve eventually asked. “What are we going to tell the world?”

  “Wyatt Brody and Spencer Hogarth were involved in a massive weapons-theft scheme as a way to circumvent congressional budget cuts and keep Mantis fully operational,” Lou said. “Mantis was Hogarth’s baby, Brody’s, too. It made sense they’d do anything to protect it. Elias found out about Reddy Creek, and for that Wyatt Brody killed him on a Wednesday morning. There’s video evidence showing Brody leaving a military parade on the day Colston was murdered.

  “As for the murder weapon, I showed you the ballistics report at your request. You know a lot about guns. You suggested to me that the weapon used to kill Elias might be an antique Colt military pistol from Brody’s substantial gun collection. A pistol that just so happens to leave a six left rifling mark. You got the gun—how, I don’t know—and gave it to me. We got it tested and it came back a match. Brody was going to go public because he knew the walls were closing in. Hogarth wouldn’t stand for it, so he killed Brody in front of dozens of witnesses. Once Hogarth realized he had no way out, he decided to take his own life. End of story. That’s what happened here. And everybody from Mantis, Coon included, agrees.”

  “Anybody ever tell you that you’re a piece of work?” Papa Steve asked.

  CHAPTER 52

  The third-floor courtroom, nestled within the labyrinth that was the circuit court for Baltimore County, would have been standing room only had the press known of Sarah’s emergency motion for dismissal of the charges against Dr. Gary McHugh. Though the trial date had yet to be set, the state’s case against him, thanks in part to the high-powered players, the sordid love triangle, and a Dateline special, was still very fresh in the minds of the public. It remained hungry for any new developments, and Sarah Cooper was just moments away from dropping a bombshell.

  Lou and Cap were among the dozen or so observers seated in the gallery. On the bench in front of them, Judge Sandra Griffey, a stern-looking black woman with a reputation for fairness and an unparalleled legal mind, looked over the motion Sarah had filed just days before. The court clerk and court reporter were seated at their respective desks, awaiting the outcome of what Lou expected would be a stunning turn of events. The lawyers for the plaintiff, in this case the State of Maryland, were grim faced and sullen. In stark contrast to them, Sarah and Grayson Devlin, flanking a stoic-looking Gary McHugh, exuded confidence.

  Lou had thought Gary would be dressed in street clothes instead of the orange prison jumpsuit he wore. Before Judge Griffey entered the courtroom, Sarah had explained there was not enough time between her filing the motion and the hearing date to make the necessary arrangements. Gary was still a prisoner of the state and would remain so unless Sarah could change that outcome. To Lou’s eyes, Gary looked gaunt, his skin stretched tight to the bone. Thank goodness Cap put Tiny on protective services duty, or Gary might have shown up to this hearing in far worse physical and emotional shape. Despite the quiet confidence of his attorneys, Gary wore the grave expression of a man still facing a potential death penalty.

  Judge Griffey slammed her gavel with authority and brought the hearing to order. “It is my understanding that the attorneys for the defendant have filed a motion for dismissal. Are the attorneys for the prosecution aware of this motion?”

  The lead prosecutor—a scarecrow of a man with a shaved head and graying goatee, sporting a crisply knotted bow tie—rose from his seat. “The prosecution is aware, Your Honor.”

  “The defense may present the motion,” Judge Griffey instructed.

  Sarah stood, smoothing out the fabric of her pleated wool skirt, and cleared her throat. Lou focused intently on everything she did. He tugged on the bottom of his crewneck sweater—a subconscious reaction that mimicked her movements. His finger got snagged on a small hole in the waistband, which he had failed to notice while getting dressed. Diversity’s handiwork had followed him into court.

  Nice kitty.

  In the week since Hogarth took his life after ending Brody’s, Sarah had vanished into what she warned Lou would be an all-consuming effort to get Gary out of jail. The motion to dismiss, she had explained, was an unusual legal step, but a necessary one to expedite the process. Now everything hinged on the prosecution’s agr
eement that their case against McHugh was unwinnable.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Sarah said. “New and important developments have emerged since my client’s arrest that I have outlined in the motion. Forensic tests, corroborated by the prosecution’s own ballistics expert, have confirmed that the weapon used to murder Elias Colston, an antique Colt pistol, was registered to the late Colonel Wyatt Brody and was part of his extensive gun collection. It is impossible for my client to have procured this weapon from the highly secured military base where Colonel Brody kept his collection under alarmed lock and key. Also, there is no evidence that my client knew of or had ever come in contact with Colonel Brody. Therefore, it is reasonable to conclude that Gary McHugh could not have fired the weapon that killed Elias Colston.”

  Lou was enraptured by Sarah’s commanding performance. Clearly, this was her game, her arena, and he could not have been more impressed with her poise and self-assurance. They’d been out for dinner once, in one of the rare moments when Sarah emerged from the confines of her office to take a breath of fresh air. Both she and Lou were acting cautiously. At some point, he thought, he might arrange a dinner with her and Emily—but not yet.

  Sarah went on to detail other highlights from her motion, including the motive Wyatt Brody had for committing murder as well as the opportunity. Her presentation was flawless and her conclusions impossible to refute. When she was through, the prosecutors looked like a Little League team facing off against the pros.

  “Does the prosecution have any objection to the motion to dismiss?” Judge Griffey asked.

  “No, Your Honor. We accept the motion in full as presented.”

  “Very well,” Judge Griffey said. “Dr. McHugh, please accept the court’s sincere apology for the pain and suffering you’ve endured. We wish you only the very best. This case is now dismissed, and you are free to go.”

  Gary beamed as he hugged Sarah and then Grayson.

  Then it was Lou’s turn to give Gary a big embrace as soon as he entered the gallery. “We did it, buddy,” Lou said. “We did it!”

  “Thank you, Lou,” Gary said, his eyes misting. “I still can’t believe it’s over.”

  “In some ways, it’s just beginning. But for now, believe it. You’re a free man. You heard the judge.”

  “Guess I better find some clothes to wear,” Gary said, patting the pockets of his prison garb.

  “Orange was never really your color.”

  “And I guess I’m going to need to find a place to live, too. Got any good hotel referrals for me?”

  Lou grimaced at the implications. He had heard from Gary that Missy planned to file for divorce. Evidently, that plan had been set in motion. It certainly explained her absence from today’s proceedings.

  “I’ve actually given that some thought,” Lou said.

  “Yeah? What are you thinking? Four Seasons? Ritz?”

  “More like the Hope House.”

  “Sounds a bit low rent for my tastes. I may not have a wife, but I’ve still got some money.”

  “Actually,” Lou said, “it’s a halfway house. That’s where I lived after I got out of treatment. In fact, I sort of made a call and told them you might be coming later today to stay for a while. They’re saving you a room. I can even provide you with a tried-and-true AA sponsor if you want.” Lou thumbed behind him toward Cap. “But I’ve got to warn you—you’re really going to have to toe the line with him. He’s strict as he is bald.”

  “That’s pretty strict.”

  “This will be good for you, Gary.”

  “Okay. If it’s what I need to do. I’ll try my best.”

  “Your medical license has been suspended, not permanently revoked. It’s not all that matters. You’re ready to return to being a doctor as soon as you don’t have to.”

  “I understand. I really do. Thanks, Lou. For everything.”

  “Whatever it takes,” Lou said.

  Gary eyed Lou with amused curiosity. “What does that mean?”

  “It means from now on, it’s got to be a day at a time for you.”

  Sarah called out Gary’s name. “There’s paperwork to sign,” she said. “Let’s get this done.”

  “I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you on the outside, buddy,” Gary said.

  Sarah waved at Lou in a way that said she would catch up with him later. Lou gave Sarah a thumbs-up and she returned one of her own.

  Lou and Cap headed out of the courtroom together.

  “Helluva show she put on in there,” Cap said. “Helluva show.”

  “If you’re ever in trouble, I know a great lawyer.”

  “So far, I’ve been able to settle all my disputes in the ring. I’m going to look after your buddy Gary, just like I looked after you.”

  “Then I know he’s going to be all right,” Lou said.

  Stepping outside, Lou shielded his eyes from the glare of the midday sun. It took him a moment to make out the West Virginia highway patrol car parked out front. Judy Lemon leaned up against her car, arms folded, resplendent in her uniform. Her smile brightened the day. Papa Steve stood beside her, wearing jeans, a parka, and a broad-rimmed black leather cowboy hat.

  “How’d it go in there?” Papa Steve asked.

  “He’s a free man,” Lou said. “Case closed. It’s great to see you both.”

  Hugs were exchanged. The four shared a unique bond—a closeness they would forever be reminded of anytime the “1812 Overture” happened to play.

  “Great to see you, too,” Papa Steve said. “Thanks for letting me know about the hearing. I’m sorry I couldn’t have gotten here sooner, but I’m glad for your friend Gary. He’d still be in jail if it wasn’t for you and Cap.”

  “And you and Officer Judy,” Cap added.

  “I thought you’d like to know that they’ve got confessions from the two Palace Guards who killed Hector,” Papa Steve said. “He’s going to be buried in Arlington Cemetery, and his family will receive the full military death benefit. It’s the only positive outcome from a truly tragic event.”

  “That is great news,” Lou said. “I’ve had a heavy heart about Hector. I’m glad to know Gary isn’t the only one for whom justice was served.”

  “I also came here to say good-bye,” Papa Steve said, “at least for now. I’ve put in my papers and I’m officially retiring from the Corps. I figured I’d do a little bit of traveling before my bones get too creaky for the road.”

  Lou shot Papa Steve and Judy a questioning glance. “So are you two—?”

  “Happy, healthy, and headed out West,” Judy said, preempting the need to supply any more details.

  “What’s with the hat?” Cap asked Papa Steve.

  “We’ve got a reservation at a dude ranch in Arizona,” Papa Steve said. “Saddle sores and hot tubs. I figured a fine Stetson hat will help me get into character.”

  “And don’t tell me,” Lou said. “You happen to have a friend who owns a fine hat store.”

  Papa Steve took Lou’s right hand in both of his. “How’d you guess?” he said.

  EPILOGUE

  The Caribou Laundromat seldom needed air-conditioning, which was a good thing most warm days, because it had none. Summer days, like this eighty-degree beauty in late June, the breeze off Belmore Bay entered from the water through the rear door, swept through the place, and exited onto Maine Street, ending against the plate glass front of the Belmore Current newspaper. The Laundromat was empty this noon hour, except for Edith Harmon and a handsome young man in his early twenties, who was helping her fold.

  “You know, Ma,” Ian Harmon said, “I’ll be happy to do this. Aunt Alice and Uncle Bill made me do all my own laundry, and I grew to sort of like it.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that I might like doing it, too?”

  Ian, over six feet and rail thin, bent down and kissed his mother on the forehead. “It’s good to be home,” he said, “even though I’d never been here before Christmas.”

  “It’s good to have you home
, sweetie,” Edith said. “I’ll take the real you over the Skype you any day. You’ve been a heck of an addition to the newspaper, too. I’m not sure I want to ship you off to U of Maine for your last year, even though it is in journalism.”

  “I’ve already learned more from a few months working with you than I did during three years of college in South Dakota. Maybe I shouldn’t bother with the transfer just for my last year.”

  “Talk like that will get you smack-dab on my wild side, a place you don’t ever want to be, even though I don’t carry my derringer anymore.” Edith cocked her head to one side. “Ian, is there someone outside?”

  “How did you—? Sorry, by now I should know better than to ask. Across the street, a man and a woman just got off bicycles and are peering into the office.”

  “Describe them.”

  “She’s got brown hair pulled back, and a pretty good body. No, make that a very good body, especially in spandex.”

  “Ian, you’re a journalist. Is that the best you can do? She’s got a very good body?”

  “He’s sort of tall, broad shoulders, dark hair flattened because he was wearing a helmet. Looks to be in shape. Great guns, actually. Maybe a weight lifter. No tattoos that I can see. They’re coming over here. Did I say that she has a terrific body?”

  Edith was already dashing toward the front door as if she could see perfectly, using her darting hands as antennas.

  “Sarah! Lou!” she cried out the open door. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”

  “Turns out we’re in better shape than we thought we’d be in,” Sarah said, hurrying over to embrace her friend. “Sleeping in campgrounds, we’re up at dawn, and five days on these hills has added like five miles an hour to our speed.

  “You’re not supposed to speed through Maine.”

  A hug for Lou and introductions to Ian, and the four of them left the laundry behind and crossed the street to the Belmore Current office. Edith and Sarah had stayed in touch, so it was no real surprise to learn that Sarah had made partner, and had decided to take down a wall or two with Lou. This no-particular-place-to-go trip to Maine was a big deal, but Edith could tell after just a short while that it was so far, so good.