“Roger was going to ask us to forgive him? Impossible.” Tonya shook her head and laughed. “Roger never made mistakes. He only capitalized on other people’s failures.”
“Hard to believe, but it’s also true.”
“How do you know that?” Jeffery asked.
“He told me.” He held up the envelope. “I did not see what was inside, and I haven’t looked. I didn’t think it was ethical to do that.” He smiled. “Yes, I have ethics. I didn’t before I became a Christian, but—”
“Do spare us the sermon,” Paulette said.
“Just speak up, and then shut up.”
“I’ll do that,” Simon said and handed me the envelope. I took the envelope and opened it. There was a three-page letter and a manila folder held together by a rubber band. I pulled out the letter and skimmed it.
“And, of course,” Beth said to Simon, “you took out the incriminating evidence about you.”
“Beth. Everyone. Let’s stop. I’ll read the letter or announcement or whatever it is. As you’ll see, this is what Roger planned to read to us last night.” Burton began to read.
I’ve decided to put this in writing because I want to say everything correctly. I don’t want to get sidetracked with questions or comments—I’ll respond to them when I’ve finished.
First, I have been a businessman—a successful businessman—since I was in my early twenties. As a human being, I was a failure. I failed as a husband and certainly failed as a father to Jason. I have been underhanded and manipulative and interested only in myself.
“I don’t think we need to sit here and listen to Roger’s sad, dull, and soulful experience,” Beth said. “I’ve heard better things at AA meetings.” She smiled and said, “Yes, I am a member of AA and also Narcotics Anonymous. That’s another little story that our dear, departed Roger knew.”
“Read it anyway,” Amanda said. “I want to hear it. I—I need to hear it.”
I read the first page, and it was mostly what I’d call confessional information. He didn’t mention anyone individually but said that he had gained power by finding human weaknesses and wrongdoings and exploiting them.
He also wrote that those invited here were not the only people of whom he had taken advantage.
There are others—hundreds of others. I’ve written to many of them, and I’m in the process of contacting others. I had a luncheon last week with nine other people and went through what I plan to do here tonight.
I wanted to see each of you in person. In many ways, you are the people who should have been closest to me for various reasons. I didn’t allow any of you to get close, to know me well, or to care for me. I pushed you aside. I know that caused you to detest me. You liked what I could do for you, but you didn’t like the price you had to pay.
I’ve already told you about the change in my life. I want to tell you what brought it about. Three months ago my life shattered. One person I had blackmailed took his own life. He sent me a letter that arrived after his death. He said he couldn’t take it any longer. In the letter, he reiterated all the demeaning things I had done to him and the demands I had made of him. He was totally correct. I had thought only of power. It had never occurred to me how deeply oppressed people felt. That was the first time in my life I saw myself as evil.
I stopped reading momentarily. Except for a few of us who knew what had happened to Roger, the rest were in shock at this unexpected turn of events. I had expected Lenny to interrupt with smart comments, but he sat there, his mouth open, and stared.
“I’m so—so happy to know Roger changed,” Amanda said. “For years I tried to talk to him about God, but he refused to listen. However, I never stopped praying—not even after I left him.” Tears burst from her, and she wept with a lack of self-consciousness and control. Instead of decreasing, her crying grew louder.
For several minutes, her sorrow and pain seemed to fill the room. Her wailing gave the rest of us an opportunity realize the impact of Roger’s letter.
“I wish we had known,” Lenny said. “I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve wished he’d get run down by a car or killed by a mugger.”
“It hardly seems like the same Roger Harden I have known for all these years,” Jeffery said. “I did not know he was capable of emotion of any kind.”
I should have stopped Jeffery then, but he began a monotone lecture about how we never know other people and how little we understand their feelings.
“Yes, that’s true,” Julie interrupted him. “But let’s get back to Roger’s letter.”
I smiled my thanks to her. The others must have felt the same way, because I heard affirmations and saw nodding heads.
Until then, I had not thought I’d harmed anyone. I rationalized that I always gave them more than I took. I opened doors, gave them investment opportunities, or hired them. I thought it seemed like a good bargain from their point of view.
I say “rationalized” because that’s what it was. I didn’t care about what others felt. I wanted to have control over them. It was a compulsion that would not let go. It sounds easy enough for me to say it, but I never wanted to do damage to anyone—certainly not enough so that someone would feel the only way to be free of me was to take his own life.
That man’s death rocked me emotionally. Nothing had ever shaken me so badly. Although he did not say it, I knew his death was on my hands. I had murdered that poor, foolish man.
I couldn’t get away from the shame—the overwhelming shame and guilt. I felt as if I were the most miserable and despised person in the world. I didn’t like anything about myself. How could I? I had destroyed many lives.
I realized the reason several of my trusted employees—or those I should have trusted—had stolen from me. That was their way to avenge themselves. My first inclination had been to ruin their lives, but I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I caused another person’s death.
I decided to get help. I met with a therapist, and he suggested I also talk with a minister. He said he felt my problems were also spiritual in nature.
Roger’s letter told us that he had consulted a pastor and met with him regularly. He read several books, and every day he read portions of the Bible. At times he hated what he read in the Bible, but he kept coming back. He said that I had greatly influenced him because of what I had done for Jason. Most of all, Simon was the one who had touched him. He said that both of us had badly flawed pasts and had overcome them. We were an inspiration to him.
Yes, I became a believer. But I wanted to do more than believe.
Because I believed, I wanted my life to change. I had heard of people who had great emotional experiences. That was not mine. I had discovered peace—a deep, deep inner peace. I knew God had forgiven me. The minister urged me to contact everyone I had wronged and ask their forgiveness.
That is why I called you here. I have saved every paper document I have used against you. I wanted you to be here tonight so that I can give them to you and you may destroy them yourselves.
I have chosen to forgive you.
Two of you are here because you have been systematically stealing from me. I will erase that. I can no longer allow you to work for me, but I will do nothing to prosecute you or prevent your getting a new position.
For the others, I will do whatever I can to help you in any way I can. I have only one thing to ask of you: I ask you to forgive me. I have been a tyrant and I have been evil. I know God has erased my sins, and I plead with you to forgive me.
“You knew?” Amanda asked Simon. “You knew he had become a believer and you didn’t tell me?”
Simon nodded. “Blame me that he said nothing. I may have been wrong—and if so, I apologize. I suggested that he tell no one, and he agreed with me.”
“Why? Why wouldn’t you want everyone to know?”
“In time he needed to tell everyone, but first I wanted to see Roger change. I have known many who had what we called jailhouse conversions. They had powerful experiences, but
once they received parole or their parole was refused, they lost their Christianity.”
“That makes sense,” Jason said. “I saw the difference the day he died. It wasn’t just the things he said to me, but I knew—I knew something had changed.” He hugged his mother. “I hope that will give you peace to know that he is in God’s presence right now.”
“You see, Amanda, Roger wanted to reconcile with you,” Simon said. “He wanted to tell you—in the presence of these people.” His hand swept to indicate everyone in the room. “He wanted you to know that you were the most important person in his life. He felt he had hurt you the most by his demanding ways. He wanted you to forgive him.”
“To forgive him?” Amanda broke out in fresh tears. “I prayed, but I never believed—not really—that he would change.”
“He changed. He also wanted you to help him grow. Once he became a believer, he was able to look back at the way you lived. He told me that you were far, far kinder to him than he deserved.”
“She was,” Jason said. “That’s part of the reason I hated him. Mom let him yell at her. Sometimes he acted as if she was an idiot or a first-grader.”
Simon smiled, and his eyes moistened. “In some ways, he was like a boy himself—after his change. He had found something wonderful, better than anything he had experienced before, and he wanted to be the one to share the news. I respected that right.”
“He was going to tell us at dinner,” Jason said. “I knew—sort of—that something had happened. I’m a believer too. That’s part of what helped me forgive Dad.”
“This is quite extraordinary, isn’t it?” Reginald said. “Our two murderers committed unnecessary acts of violence. Of course, murder is always unnecessary, but Roger was going to forgive them. If they had only waited.” He shook his head in wonderment.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” Wayne wailed. “If he’d just hinted—”
“Did you give him a chance?” I asked.
“No, perhaps not.” He hung his head. “Roger said, ‘I know what you’ve done. I know the money you’ve stolen from me. That’s why I’ve called you here to the island.’ He smiled at me and said, ‘I have a major announcement to make.’ It didn’t occur to me that he would forgive me. Certainly not Roger Harden. I expected him to step on me as if I were a mere bug. So I screamed at him that he couldn’t do that. I knew where he kept the gun. I grabbed it, and I shot him.” He stared at the floor. “You know all the rest.”
The ringing of the telephone interrupted the conversation. Jason ran to Roger’s office and picked up the phone. He returned to the room. “The police are on their way. They’ll be here in about ten minutes.”
I read the final portion of the letter, which was a beautiful prayer for all of us to follow God in our lives. I replaced the letter in the envelope.
“Aren’t you going to show us the documentation?” Reginald said. “If Roger was going to forgive us, then why—”
“Isn’t that a matter for the police?” I said.
“But what if they read it? Our lives will be ruined too,” said Lenny.
I gave him my best Simon-imitation shrug.
Twenty-Five
This is Julie picking up again. I didn’t know what Simon and Burton planned, but it worked. I do know what happened after the police came.
Everything considered, that final event was a greater climax to the evening and morning. It took us about half an hour to explain everything to the two police officers. Simon would talk, and I’d interrupt with information he’d forgotten, and then Burton would remind us of something else.
The one in charge was a woman. The other, who was new to the force, stood and observed, but he never said a single word. By the time we finished, the female officer said, “I hope you can remember everything you’ve told me.”
That’s the reason both of us are writing. It’s not to show each other. I’d blush if Burton knew how I felt about him—especially at our first meeting to travel to Palm Island together. No, I’m writing down everything so I can remember if it comes to trial. Wayne Holmestead is such a wimp, and he can’t seem to confess enough. Paulette has denied she did anything wrong. She finally said Wayne had coerced her. She claimed Wayne killed Elaine. I’m not sure it makes much difference who did what. Eventually, she did admit that they were both guilty.
Oh yes, they found Paulette’s fingerprints on the gun, and Wayne’s—oh, but that came out nearly two weeks later.
We had one important moment of excitement, and I have to write it so I remember every detail. After the police officer heard the story, and after both Wayne Holmestead and Paulette White admitted to her and to the rest of us that they had killed Roger, she asked for the envelope.
“I have a question,” Burton said. “We are all witnesses that Wayne and Paulette confessed to two murders. Is that correct?”
Everyone agreed.
“There was no coercion. No force used. Right?” Burton said and grinned.
Simon caught on, and he grinned. “Great idea! Yes!”
I stared at both of them, and then I caught on. I was a little slow on that one. I supposed I grinned in imitation of the two men.
“So you don’t need this envelope.” Burton held it up for the police officer to see.
“Not to convict, but it is evidence, you know.”
“And it could be used to harm all of us, right?” I said. I winked at my two conspirators.
“If you’ve committed crimes, then of course it would be evidence and I would have to use any information against you.”
“Even if we were all blackmailed? Even if we’ve all more than paid for our crimes?”
“That is not for me to decide,” she said. “You hand me the evidence. My job is to take it to my superiors. I bring in the evidence, and they make the decisions.”
“Think about the material in the envelope,” I said. I didn’t look at her, but at the others in the room.
“We all know one part of the contents—our own, uh, failures—but I’m sure there was more. Is that correct?”
Everyone agreed.
“That’s correct,” Simon said. “If the police officer takes the envelope and the contents are revealed, who will it harm?”
“I have a wife and two teenage girls,” Reginald said. “I would hate for them to know.”
“It would kill my mother,” Jeffery said. “She has always been proud of me.” He looked around. “She’s in a nursing facility, you see.”
“Please—please don’t give it to her,” Amanda said. “There are some things in there about me, but that’s not my concern. Look at all the lives this can ruin. It will be exactly the opposite of what Roger wanted.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Burton said. He turned to the police officer. “I am going to burn this. You may accuse me of destroying evidence, but I’m going to burn it anyway.”
He walked across the room, and the officer made no attempt to stop him. If she had, I think she knew the rest of us would have blocked her. Burton opened the envelope, extracted the manila folder, and pulled off the rubber band. He turned the folder inside out, and the contents fell on the grate of the clean fireplace. He took one of the matches in the container on the mantle and set the contents aflame. He lit fires in four or five places.
“You really should not do that,” the police officer said. “I have to tell you that you may be committing a crime.” She made no effort to move as she said those words. “I have to tell you that,” she said. “I have to warn you that you may face criminal charges.”
“It would be a greater crime if anyone read the papers,” I said. “Please, let it go.”
“I can’t stand here and give you permission. That would make me an accessory. If you prevent me from doing my duty—well, there is nothing I could do to stop you, is there?”
“And there is no one to report it either, is there?” I said.
All of us watched the fire consume the pages. I got a little impatient and didn’t want
anyone to filch partial pages from the ashes, so I reached down with a poker and spread the flame so that everything burned to ashes.
“My law-officer conscience sometimes argues with my humanitarian conscience,” the police officer said. “But you prevented me from doing anything, didn’t you?”
“If you have any pangs of conscience,” Simon said, “perhaps you’ll think about it on the way back to the mainland. There were two murders. Both suspects have confessed. Case closed.”
“I never believe in worrying about what might have been.” She nodded to her assistant. “Cuff these two, and let’s go.”
Twenty-Six
Shortly after the police left, Tonya Borders and Dr. Jeffery Dunn insisted they had to leave immediately. Both of them seemed to have emergency meetings. Lenny Goss and Reginald Ford also demanded that they get out first. Tonya had four large suitcases, and Jeffery had three and a briefcase. Beth Wilson had two large suitcases. Jeffery and Reginald each had to hold suitcases on their laps—which was the only way all five of them could get into the Boston Whaler.
Burton and I said we were in no hurry. Both of us wanted to be back to Atlanta that night. As long as we left by five o’clock we could make it back.
Simon took the others ashore.
Amanda and Jason decided to stay on Palm Island. She would make funeral arrangements. “Jason and I need to be alone for a couple of days,” she said. “He and I need to talk and to take all of this in. It’s still—well, a shock.”
Simon planned to leave as soon as he was sure everything was in order, and he would do what he could. Amanda found a manila file folder in Roger’s bedroom. It contained information about Simon’s wife, her whereabouts (she was still single), and his two children. As soon as Simon had taken all of us off the island, he planned to phone her.
While we waited for Simon to return, we walked around the small island. It was the first time I had ever seen the entire island in the daytime. The flora amazed me. Peach trees showed their unripened fruit. Black-trunked elms crowded against the sides of the path on the windward side and swayed gently in the wind from the ocean. The aroma of oregano and lemon balm filled our nostrils until we picked up a whiff of honeysuckle and then reached a small bed of roses. Roger must have had at least thirty varieties, and all of them actually smelled as beautiful as they looked. I lost track of the variety of flowers. It was obvious that someone had taken great pains to make it restful. I understood why Simon enjoyed being out there alone.
Everybody Loved Roger Harden Page 18
