eyes. “You were behind the kidnappings. Hobbs County and
Meriden were your pet projects so you could look good
come voting season. That way you could come off looking
like some great savior, when in reality you were feeding
people the same poison you claimed to be eradicating. You
and Raymond Benjamin found children who were born
with diabetes, whom you could subject to these sick experiments to rob them of years of their lives.You take them away,
then use their disappearances as leverage to get good press,
gentrify the towns. The crime rate plummets. Property
values go up. In come landowners who are more willing to
vote for you.You bring in Reggie Powers to rebuild the town.
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.”
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“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.”
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“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.
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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
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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 ste
pped 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
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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.
Illuminating a world that was, for better or worse, now a
safer place.
“You think they’re asleep?” Amanda asked.
“No way. At that age I fought tooth and nail for every
extra minute. I’d sneak an AM/FM radio into bed so I
could listen to ball games, maybe a book and a flashlight.
I hope kids haven’t outgrown that.”
“Not outgrown it,” she said. “They just have more
options now. Portable video games, iPods, televisions the
size of a quarter. It’s a miracle they don’t spend half their
time choosing which one to watch.”
We stepped up to the porch. I saw the wind chimes
again. In a moment they’d be ringing their tune.
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I pressed the doorbell, heard a chime go off inside the
house. There were footsteps, a woman’s voice shouting
something. Then the screen door opened, and Shelly
Linwood was standing right in front of us.
She was wearing a terry-cloth bathrobe, her hair done
up in rollers. I saw a child run past behind her. Tasha, if I
remembered correctly.
“Henry? Henry Parker?” she said, unsure of what to
make of this late-night visit.
“Mrs. Linwood,” I said. “I need a minute of your time.”
“I was just doing my hair,” she said. She looked eager to
get back to that, but the look on my face told her we weren’t
leaving anytime soon. Resignedly, she said, “Come on in.”
She held the door open for us, and we walked inside.
“Mrs. Linwood, this is Amanda Davies. She works for
the New York Legal Aid Society. She’s a good friend of
mine, and I just thought it would be good for her to meet
Danny. Danny might have some questions she can answer.
And if not, he’ll make a new friend.”
I saw a mop of hair peek from behind a doorway.
Shelley turned around, said, “Danny, come in here. You
remember Henry, right?”
Daniel Linwood tentatively stepped into the room. He’d
gained a few pounds since I last saw him, his hair a little
longer. His eyes seemed more frightened, his gait more
awkward.
“Danny,” I said. “This is Amanda.”
She stepped forward, knelt down slightly so she was
at his level.
“Hey there,” she said. “I’m Amanda. Mind if we chat
for a bit? I’d love to see your room.”
“Show her your Xbox,” Shelly said. Danny nodded reluctantly, led Amanda past us and up the stairs.
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“Can we sit?” I said. Shelly nodded.
We went into the living room, sat on the same couch
where I’d interviewed Danny not too long ago.
“How is he?” I asked.
Shelly sighed, scratched her neck.
“I get a call from his school almost every day. Kids
picking on him. Giving him wedgies. Stealing his lunch
money. It wasn’t like this before.”
“He’s a different person now,” I said. “It’s going to take
a long time for him to find himself.”
“I know,” she said. “God, I know.”
“Mrs. Linwood,” I said. “I want you to hear this from
me. And only from me. I want you to know what I know.”
She looked up, her eyes big and brown and watery. “Yes?”
“You knew about Daniel’s kidnapping. You knew it
was going to happen. You knew he would be taken. And
you probably told them when they could do it. Know that
I know. Because you’ll have to live with that. Live with
everyone knowing what you did.”
Her mouth fell open. She stared at me, shaking her
head, openmouthed.
“No,” she said. “My Danny, I didn’t—”
“Shelly,” I said. “You’ve been lying too long. I know
why you did it. I know you met Raymond Benjamin.”
Shelly just sat there, her lower lip trembling.
“When I spoke to Danny, you even brought him a tray
of food. Vegetables that would help replenish the thiamine
levels that were so low in his brain. Food high in vitamin
B1. Did Petrovsky tell you to do that?”
Shelly sat there, stone silent.
“Did he come to your house? Raymond Benjamin.”
She continued to stare, then a tear streaked down her
cheek as she nodded.
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“Yes,” she said.
“What did he say?”
“He told me,” Shelly said, sucking in air and wiping her
face, “that this town was tearing itself apart. That he’d
grown up here, and there were only two options for boys
Danny and James’s age. Prison or the grave. Raymond said
he’d been to prison, but that’s only because he got caught.”
“And he offered you a deal,” I said. “Right? He would
take Danny away for a few years. He would be gone, but he
would be safe. And
by doing that you would give your
children a chance to grow up in a neighborhood where
they’d be safe. Where they could make something of themselves.”
Shelly nodded. Then she stood up. Went over to the
mantel, and took down a framed photograph. She handed it
to me.
It was an odd picture. I’d noticed it during my interview
with Daniel. And now I thought about the photo I found
in Robert Reed’s wallet and it all made sense.
The photo was of Shelly’s younger son, James. The shot
had been taken from about five feet behind him. He was
wearing a knapsack, baggy jeans. He was unaware of the
photographer.
I turned the frame over and removed the knobs that held
it in place. When the backing came off, the back of the
photo was visible. One word was printed on it.
Remember.
“Raymond Benjamin gave that photo to me,” she said.
“He told me he’d taken it himself. He said if he could get
that close to James, others could, too. People who meant
him more harm than he did. He said it was a fair trade. A
few years of Daniel’s life would guarantee the safety of my
whole family forever. Daniel would, in a way, be a hero. I
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never understood how my son could be a hero giving his
life for a cause he didn’t understand or even know about. I
just wanted to believe in some way he was doing it for the
future of James and Tasha. And he said that anytime I began
to doubt myself or what I’d done, to look at that photo and
remember what could happen to the rest of my family.”
“What did you do, Shelly?” I asked.
Shelly began to weep. She held her head in her hands.
I felt a modicum of remorse for this woman, but it soon
went away.
“I told Benjamin the route Danny took to get home
from practice,” she said. “Six-thirty every night. I made
him promise not to hurt my baby. He told me he wouldn’t.”
“What else did Benjamin say?”
“He promised me a family would take care of him.
They knew about his diabetes and they would care for
him,” Shelly said through bloodshot eyes. “And I believed
him. At least I wanted to. I needed to know my babies
could grow up and lead full lives. I’ve seen what this town
can do to people. I wanted my sons to have something
better.”
“Is that what Danny has now?” I asked. “Something
better?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But if he can get out of here
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