Redemption

by Sally Fernandez

  •Transportation Security Administration spends $3.5 million annually to lease/manage a warehouse in Dallas, Texas to store $184 million worth of unused security equipment. An additional $23 million in depreciation costs were lost because 472 carry-on baggage-screening machines had been housed there for nine months or more.

  “If that doesn’t get your head spinning, check these out.” Hank replaced the graphic with another equally incredulous one on the monitor. He rattled off the bullet points:

  AND THE WASTE WASTES ON

  •The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency held a $6 million convention on the science of storytelling.

  •Social Security Administration overpaid benefits by $2.11 billion and $850 million in cash benefits by double dipping into disability insurance and federal unemployment insurance.

  •The Conservation Reserve Program pays farmers $2.1 billion annually not to farm their land for a period of at least ten years.

  •The Department of Agriculture endorsed the “Meatless Monday” initiative and then a few weeks later announced plans to purchase $170 million worth of meat from drought-stricken livestock producers.

  “These are only a few choice examples but the list is endless,” he fumed.

  “I appreciate your frustration, Hank, but you were there when all this was going on,” Chase remarked.

  “Enough of your reproof! Haven’t you heard of changing your stripes? With the exception of Noble, we all had a part in what’s playing out today. Even you Chase. You may have been in the background crunching numbers and filing campaign forms—but you were on the team.”

  “I’m humbled,” Chase avowed, trying to sound convivial. “What’s done is done. Now it’s our opportunity to erase the record.”

  “May we continue?” Noble asked, trying to curb another distraction.

  Paolo did not hesitate and jumped in. “Let’s not forget the annual September Spending Spree, called the ‘use it or lose it’ season,” he joked.

  He was referring to the federal government’s fiscal year that ended on September 30, whereby all government departments were obligated to forfeit unused appropriated funds to the Treasury by October 1.

  “According to an article in RealClearMarkets by Furchtgott-Roth,” Paolo continued, “for the departments to justify their current spending level and avoid future spending cuts—they simply race to spend every last dollar, without regard to the merits of any expenditures. We all remember the four-point-one million-dollar conference the IRS treated themselves to in 2010. Well, Furchtgott-Roth reported that in 2014 they also spent $2,410,000 on toner products in a single purchase. Other examples cited included the Department of Veterans Affairs spending over $1.8 on artwork, the State Department spending $24,868 for a 50 inch LED HD TV for the embassy in Kabul, Afghanistan, and $20,362 for alcohol in New Delhi, India. The year before the State Department spent $5 million on crystal glassware for several embassies.”

  It was apparent to everyone in the room that before they had conducted their infinitesimal research on spending, they had no idea the extent of either the direct or the indirect abuse that was eating up the taxpayer dollars. While sharing looks of despair, Chase had one last point to make on the spending abuse.

  “Santayana might be proven right again,” he said. “A similar fiasco to the financial crisis of 2008 appears to be brewing on the horizon. The student-loan debt now exceeds a trillion dollars and outstrips credit-card debt and auto loans combined, as pointed out by Rana Foroohar of Time Magazine.”

  “You’re absolutely correct,” Hank granted, although it was evident he was, in part, still trying to make amends. He continued. “When Baari extended the pay-as-you-earn program, creating a student-loan forgiveness system, he created another bubble that is destined to burst. Qualifying college graduates only have to pay ten percent of their annual income for up to twenty years; then the balance of the loan is forgiven. Whoosh! The debt vanishes, but reappears in our tax burden. However, Baari threw in a nice inducement. If a college grad works for the government, the loan will be written off after ten years. A classic example of double-dipping.”

  “Worse yet,” Chase added, “he then had the audacity to offer two years of free community college to those who have completed the first two years and had maintained a grade point average of two-point-five or above. A nice gift from the taxpayers, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Baari should have taken remedial courses in constitutional law,” Seymour challenged. “I’m not so sure it would pass muster if it had ever made its way to the top of the heap of constitutional challenges.”

  “Rightly so,” Chase stated. “But herein lies the problem. There are many variables, such as the graduate’s annual income, where they work, and even which school they attended; all determine the cost of their loan. It’s like trying to understand your telephone bill. But once again, the American taxpayers would be the ones to absorb a high percent of the loan, and by many taxpayers who were never privileged to attend college.”

  “Certainly, one for the list,” Hank volunteered.

  “It’s evident that the massive tax-and-spend policies have paralyzed businesses from risking their capital to expand in the U.S. and to create more job opportunities.” Noble summed up further. “Available capital is put on hold, rather than being injected into the economy. Excessive tax burdens, increased healthcare, and energy costs continue to starve the economy of needed seed money. Families are caught in the crosshairs.”

  Seymour lamented, “At one time, America was the greatest, debt-free nation spurred on by self-determining—self-sufficient people. Today, one-third of our population receives a government paycheck and fifty percent of the population receives some form of government subsidy.”

  “What is it?” Noble questioned, noting Seymour’s sober expression.

  “We’re trying to solve a problem in a vacuum. Again, maybe there is no silver bullet. Perhaps the quick fix we’ve been looking for is a simple promise to the American people—one the government must keep.”

  “That’s a tall order considering the malaise in the country. The wounds the prior administration inflicted are still raw and the Congress is considered the culprit,” Paolo postured.

  “Remember, I know how to get things done. I’m the King Macher. I’m ashamed that I once used my abilities to convince millions of voters to follow blindly, a misbegotten leader. But I still have the old stuff to influence. This time around—we’ll give the people the straight skinny. No more smoke and mirrors.”

  “Seymour, it was your message that drove America into this mess,” Paolo chided, and then he retreated. “Sorry pal, that was unfair. Maybe you’re right. Perhaps an honest straight-to-the-point message could be the tipping point. The country’s mental state is such that they may be receptive to ideas formerly considered extreme.”

  From Chase’s expression, he was already on board. “It might be our viable option to calm the waters after they’ve been roiled and allow for real positive reform to take place. In the end, sadly, it was the government that perpetrated the crisis—but it’s also the government that must lead the rebound.”

  “We must jumpstart the process by enlisting the public’s trust,” Paolo opined. Then, sounding slightly more skeptical, he added, “Seymour, my friend, we can supply the ammunition, but you’re going to need a larger hat and more bunnies. Maybe they’ll solve the problem, while they’re in the hat together.”

  “Leave it up to me, the Bunnymeister!” he pronounced with great self-confidence.

  “I thought you were the King Macher?” Hank ribbed.

  “I wear many hats,” Seymour replied with pizzazz.

  It took a few moments, but then Noble came through. “I’m sold. Let’s get together first thing tomorrow. The moment of truth has arrived. It’s time to lay out a cohesive plan and communications blitz for the president.”

  38

  THE AUTOPSY

  “Max, I hear you’re sitting in on this one?”

>   “Yes, Doc. I’m a glutton for punishment. What have you found so far?”

  “Well, based on the height, bone structure, and natural hair color, along with the clothing and the bullet hole, described in the crime scene report—I’d say it’s your guy—I’d say it’s Simon Hall.”

  “C’mon Doc,” she said suspiciously. “You’d never settle for such skimpy evidence.”

  “You’ve been hanging out with the stiffs and me too long, Max,” he teased. “As you can see, there’s been a lot of decomp, especially in the facial region. A few animals certainly left with their bellies full.”

  “But why the face? What animal is smart enough to only attack that part of the body?”

  “Glad you asked. I was curious as well and scaled off whatever skin sample I could locate. It showed high traces of rabbit urine.”

  “Rabbit urine?”

  “Yes, it’s the major attraction for coyotes and is often used to bait them.”

  “Coyotes? The corpse was found in the lake region.”

  “You and I seem to be on the same wavelength. I checked it out. Evidently, in southern Ontario, they’re having a huge problem with coyotes coming out of the forest and into the towns looking for food. Coyotes normally have a keen sense of smell and the faint human scent doesn’t alarm them. They tend not to engage.”

  “Except for this poor guy. So you’re telling me he died somehow. Then a rabbit pissed on him, and then a coyote ate him. What a way to go.”

  “Max, I would say, based on the urine content of my samples, some human sprayed this guy deliberately.”

  “You think to destroy his identity?”

  “You got it. The fact that there is no water or other fluids present in the lungs also proves he didn’t drown. Most likely he was killed and left where he was found.”

  “So if this is Simon’s corpse, it happened weeks ago. Therefore, he would have been exposed to the external elements for a period of time.”

  “And being dehydrated it also made the dactyloscopy difficult.”

  “The what?” Max winced.

  “Fingerprint analysis, my dear.”

  “Okay, but not impossible.” She didn’t like the expression on his face, with or without his use of a fancy word. And without the corpse’s face, she needed a fingerprint.

  “I was able to rehydrate the right thumb and retrieve a fairly usable print, but it’s useless.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Our corpse had a severe case of pitted keratolysis. It’s a bacterial virus that attacks various extremities, but primarily affects the feet. However, in extreme cases, it can affect the fingertips, rendering them useless for identification.”

  “I’m still confused. There would be some pattern to go by.”

  “They’re useless because the pitting of the skin changes the circular and longitudinal patterns on the fingertips over time. Therefore, there is no consistent pattern. I’d say this guy worked in a profession that required rubber gloves. They’re usually responsible for providing a breeding ground as the hands sweat. Not exactly Simon’s sort of profession.”

  Her heart sank as she let out a huge breath and asked, “Doc, are you sure? What about dental records?”

  “You’re grasping, Max—look for yourself; they’re all destroyed. The only hope we have is to run a DNA test. But we’ll need a sample of Simon’s DNA for comparison. Can you get me the DNA samples they took from him when he was processed at the Draper Prison?”

  Max was becoming more distressed by the moment. “Forget it…”

  The coroner cut in. “What’s the problem?”

  “The warden was ordered to place Simon in maximum security immediately upon arrival and to bypass the indoctrination process, until Noble had an opportunity to interrogate him. That would have included fingerprint and DNA evidence, except he escaped the next day.”

  “Oops,” the coroner replied. “In that case, Max—there’s even more troubling news.”

  “Don’t do this to me.”

  “It’s the gunshot wound that doesn’t make sense. Look here.” The coroner pointed to the bullet hole a few inches above the left kneecap.

  “That’s where Simon was shot.”

  “I know—according to the crime scene report. Noble stated that he saw Simon limp on his left leg as he headed to the side of the bridge, leaving a blood trail along the way.”

  “Exactly, right after he was shot.”

  “If he was shot by the agent as described in the report, the trajectory of the bullet would have entered in this direction.” The coroner held up his pen horizontally.

  Max was confused as to where he was heading, but she listened with great interest.

  “The bullet in this corpse entered in this direction, upward.” He once again held up his pen, but that time vertically and at a ten-degree angle. “The bullet that entered this guy pierced his femoral artery. He bled out instantly. There’s no way he could have limped anywhere.”

  “So you are saying you’re a hundred percent sure this is not Simon?”

  “I’m not saying Simon is not dead; I’m just saying this is not your guy.”

  Max looked over toward the grotesque remains of what once was a man. His distorted body stretched out immodestly on the metal table pushed her mind into overdrive. “Hey Doc, isn’t it possible that the bullet didn’t hit the artery at first, but the impact of hitting the water caused the bullet to dislodge and that’s when it severed the artery?”

  “Highly improbable.”

  “But possible! Come on; after a hundred-foot drop?”

  “It’s possible,” he allowed, “but I have grave doubts.” He smiled, knowing she would catch the double entendre.

  “Cute, Doc, but we have the bullet and the one you pulled out of Abner Baari’s skull. See if they match.”

  Only a select group of people had knowledge of how the former president Abner Baari died, including Max and the coroner. Even President Post was not informed, in order to protect him should the truth ever leak. The public was told that Baari had died of a heart attack shortly after returning to the States to visit his wife and daughter. The former First Lady and senator, Maryann Townsend, knowing the full story, agreed to the deception. She had no choice, as it was tacked onto her own immunity agreement. Fortunately, La Fratellanza had not suspected that the senator had aided and abetted Simon and Baari in their escape. One fact that the insiders did know was that it was Simon who shot Baari in the car before he fled and jumped. There was no doubt that the sound of a gunshot had prompted the agent on the bridge to shoot Simon. It was a reaction to the sound.

  “This is not your day, kiddo. The bullet shattered the bone, which is why I suspect it deflected and then hit the artery instantly—not after a fall. Sorry, I recovered only bullet fragments, not enough for testing.”

  Max was disappointed, but not yet willing to give up. “If this isn’t Simon, could Simon have survived the fall?”

  “After he jumped, he would have had to place himself perfectly in a seated chair position. The slightest change in position would smash his spine and damage internal organs. Most likely, he’d ruptured his spleen. With a gunshot wound in the upper leg—it’s improbable he could maintain that position in the fall.”

  “Okay, so if it’s not Simon, then who the hell is he?” she huffed in frustration.

  “That, my dear—will be your job to find out. And with no clear means of identification, I’ll have to list him as ‘John Doe.’ Time to sew him up and ship him out.”

  “Doc, don’t close this case yet. Keep the body in the drawer. I’m not convinced. But if isn’t Simon, perhaps there’s a family out there looking for this guy.”

  “Will do. But find them soon; he is taking up valuable space.” The coroner patted her on the back. “Go get ‘em, Max.”

  She had hoped beyond hope for a different outcome. But what if the Doc is correct, and it’s not Simon? she pondered.

  As Max headed back to the White Ho
use, she reviewed in her mind the events of an autopsy she had supervised in another case. At the time, she was shocked to learn that Noble had considered cremation to let the whole sordid affair disappear. She was thankful that the intelligent side of his brain had prevailed. After all, Baari was a U.S. president and, even if he was disgraced, the American people still had the right to mourn. The true cause of death, however, would never be revealed. The chosen course of action was to maintain a slight distortion of the facts. Having to explain why a U.S. president and a terrorist were taking a road trip together certainly would have created a very messy scandal in a time of an extreme national crisis.

  39

  WHO IS JOHN DOE?

  Max arrived back at her office flustered and frustrated. She was not ready to accept the possibility that Simon had not committed the crimes against the members of La Fratellanza, even if the facts suggested otherwise. One thing for sure was that she was positive the corpse had something to do with Simon. She had to identify the body. In her usual style, she zoomed past Doris and called out, “Get the Buffalo police chief back on the line.”

  The intercom light flashed and she went straight to line one. “Chief, can you check to see if a white male was reported missing or found dead, during the week of April third?”

  “Hold on Max; let me pull it up on the screen.” He retrieved the names straightaway. “Yes, there are three, all reported suicides. Typical around this time of the year. The Falls are a lure for the desperate and despondent. We call it the Spring Cleaning season,” he chuckled.

  “I fail to see the humor.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. But after doing this job as long as I have—you become a little cynical.”

  “Chief, male or female, please!”

  “Right. All males.”

  “Email me their descriptions.”

  “Who are you looking for?”

  She didn’t think it wise to announce the autopsy results quite yet. “Thank you Chief; just playing out a hunch. Enjoy your day.”