Rules of the Road

by Lucian K. Truscott

  “So what did you find out?”

  Mrs. Butterfield studied the page of official notices she held in her hand.

  “There’s a very interesting notice right here,” she said, tapping the page. “They’re getting ready to build some kind of huge facility down there in Rock County, right near where you say the state just purchased that land for the park. I know the Shawnee Forest is one of the prettiest, most unspoiled, places in the state. But right next to the National Forest are thousands of acres of reclaimed strip mines.”

  “That’s right!” said Betsy. “That’s part of the deal. We’re getting half forested land and half land that has been strip mined and reclaimed. It’s part of the governor’s environmental package. You know, they passed the mining reclamation act years ago, and now the governor’s trying to show that it really hasn’t cost the state a cent, if land that was once strip mined can be turned into a state park.”

  “It looks like they’ve got more in mind for some of that land than recreation,” said Sam. “On one of the other tapes we saw, Harlan Greene, that man Pugh, and a bunch of other men were standing in a big field down in Rock County. It was lined-out with surveyor’s stakes and tape, and they were consulting some kind of blueprints. If they’re going to build something there, it’s going to be huge.”

  “And our man Harlan was right there in the middle of things, was he?” asked Betsy.

  “I’ll say he was.”

  “You said ‘they’ are gettin’ ready to build this thing down in Rock County,” said Johnny Gee. “Who’s they?”

  Mrs. Butterfield consulted the clip from the paper.

  “A company called American Evacusystems.”

  “Evacusystems!” said Betsy with a start. “They’re a big waste disposal company from Cleveland! Of course. It all makes sense now. They opened a plant on the lake north of Chicago about ten years ago, and the local people have been fighting them ever since. There have been all kinds of charges that they’re polluting the lake and the groundwater and everything else. But so far, they’ve been able to hold off the critics with lawsuits and other delaying tactics.”

  “Lawsuits?” asked Sam. “The company is suing people?”

  “And the other way around. Evacusystems is famous for suing people for libel when they go public to oppose them. They tie up their critics in a suit, then settle out of court with the provision that the person will never speak publicly about Evacusystems again.”

  “And that’s legal?”

  “Completely, so long as the defendant signs the settlement.”

  “Jeez. A real friendly outfit.”

  “Lovely people,” said Betsy. “The governor has kept his distance from them, but it’s difficult. They are big contributors to the party, and they’re very close to Kennedy …”

  “The attorney general?” asked Sam.

  “In the flesh. The governor expects Kennedy will run against him in the primary, although Kennedy hasn’t said anything publicly.”

  “There is very little love lost between those two,” said Sam’s mother.

  “So what do you think Harlan is doing for this company, Evacusystems?” asked Sam.

  Betsy started to pace again.

  “If I ask you for one of those cigarettes, Johnny, don’t give it to me, you hear? I quit two years ago, and this kind of thing is just what it would take to get me started again.”

  Johnny Gee laughed. “I’ll guard ’em with my life.”

  “All kinds of legislation has to be passed in order for a company to do anything in the waste disposal field. There’s a ton of regulatory requirements, a hundred different variances, probably a bunch of tax credits, too. The lure of a waste disposal facility, as in any other kind of industry, is jobs. Hundreds of jobs at the waste facility, thousands when you begin counting employment by trucking companies, truck drivers, subcontractors, maintenance and repair people, not to mention ancillary employment at credit unions, new bank branches, fast food outlets, gas stations, shopping centers—a big plant like that is a job magnet. I’d say that part of the state is looking at five to six thousand new jobs in, near, or related to that plant. Rock County is dead center of the very poorest part of the state. Five thousand, six thousand jobs in that market is like putting honey under a bear’s nose. You can write your own ticket when you come in with those kinds of political sweets.”

  “What’s Harlan’s take?” Sam leaned forward on his chair, entranced.

  “Probably stock in the company. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t realize more than a million in stock for his efforts. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least. People have made more for doing less in Illinois. Much more for far less.” Betsy stopped pacing and sat down next to Mrs. Butterfield.

  “And the videotapes?” asked Sam. “What do you figure is the reason for all the surveillance?”

  “There has to be more than one waste management company that would be interested in opening such a facility,” said Betsy. “Look at the location alone. They can pull business in there from three other states: Kentucky, Indiana, Missouri. That’s a four-state draw, including Illinois, and Illinois has got enough industrial waste by itself. I’m sure if you looked into it deeply enough, which would probably be impossible to do, I think you’d find plans already made for expansion two years, four years, six years down the road. Probably find the enabling legislation sitting there, already written, ready to be introduced when the time comes. This is a very, very big deal, Sam. And somebody wants Harlan’s hide real bad on this one. What the surveillance tapes amount to is political blackmail. Those tapes are worth millions if they’re put into the right hands. Tens of millions. Maybe hundreds.”

  “That’s why they killed Spicer. They figured if he’d seen the videotapes, he was as dangerous as if he still had them.” “You think he sent them on to the attorney general, then, Sam?” asked Mrs. Butterfield.

  “There’s no doubt in my mind. If Spicer said he was going to do something, he did it. And this guy Kennedy, if he’s as close to Harlan as Betsy says, he just put them on a shelf.”

  “And went looking for the one that was missin’,” said Johnny Gee.

  Sam turned to the skinny man.

  “They knew there were five. Spicer sent them four. They had to figure either you or I had the last one.”

  “So what do we do now that we got all this stuff figured out?” asked Johnny Gee.

  “I think you ought to let me take the videotape to my friend in the IBI, and see what he’s got to say,” said Betsy.

  “You can do that right away?” asked Sam.

  “He works out of their downstate office in Carbondale. I can show it to him first thing in the morning.”

  “You ain’t gonna tell him where you got it, now, are you?” Johnny Gee looked nervously at Betsy.

  “I can protect you, Johnny, don’t worry. Besides, he’s a good friend. He won’t do anything with the tape without my approval.”

  “Anything like taking it to his superiors, you mean,” said Sam. “There’s no telling what might happen to that tape if it disappears into the upper reaches of that particular law enforcement bureaucracy.”

  “He won’t do anything with it before I check with you, Sam. I promise. I’ll sit there while he watches it. I’ll take it with me when I leave. And I’ll call you as soon as we’ve discussed it.”

  “That’s good enough for me, Betsy,” Sam said. He stood up and removed the videotape from the VCR, handing it to Betsy.

  “And now I’ve got to get out of here and drive myself home before I drop off to sleep right here,” Betsy said.

  Out on the porch they paused to look at the softly rolling farmland before them in the moonlight.

  “I want you to know how much I appreciate your coming tonight, and everything else you’re doing for us. Are you sure there’s no chance you’ll get in any kind of trouble, taking this thing to the IBI guy?”

  “Not a chance. When you’ve been through a campaign with somebody, a bo
nd forms that’s rather difficult to break.”

  “You’re, ah, seeing this guy, as well?”

  “Don’t be silly. We’re just close friends. Why?”

  Sam looked down at his feet, then across the barnyard. His eyes wandered back to hers.

  “I don’t know … it’s just that seeing you again after all these years … I didn’t expect …”

  She touched his lips with a forefinger.

  “Shh,” she whispered. She removed the finger and kissed him gently on the lips and skipped down the porch steps.

  “I know what you mean, Sam,” she called over her shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll call you before noon.”

  The Volkswagen Rabbit backed around and disappeared down the drive and over the hill. Sam turned around to find Johnny Gee watching through the front door.

  “She got her stuff definitely well put together,” said Johnny Gee. “You could do worse… .”

  “Let’s get a beer,” said Sam.

  ***

  The phone rang at ten-thirty. Sam picked up on the first ring.

  “Sam, it’s Betsy.”

  “What happened? What have you got?”

  “Not much, I’m afraid,” she began, hesitating.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I showed the tape to my friend Charlie at the IBI. He agrees that the mere existence of such a tape is very damaging to Harlan Greene, and everyone else present in that hotel room at the Sheraton. But he says nothing on the tape is sufficient to tie Harlan Greene to any kind of illegal activity.”

  “He’s got to be kidding. They’re sitting right there talking about buying votes, fixing legislative committees—”

  “You know that, and I know that, and Charlie knows that, but in strictly legal terms, no one ever mentions a payoff, or buying a vote … it’s all very circumspect. They’re very careful with what they say, and all Harlan himself says, besides asking for a Coke, is ‘That’s right,’ ‘That’s right,’ over and over again and no money changes hands on this tape.”

  “That’s because his boy Pugh was doing all the talking for him.”

  “I know, Sam. I pointed that out to Charlie. Still, he said there’s not enough on this one videotape to bring any charges against Harlan or anyone else.”

  “Did he ask you where you got the tape?”

  “No. I told him I was not making a formal report of the commission of a crime, that I just wanted his opinion. He understood. And nothing he saw will go any place outside the walls of his office. I told him how sensitive the thing was, and he understood completely.”

  “Jesus. I guess I was expecting you to come up with some kind of answer to this whole thing. I guess I was expecting too much.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam, but you can see what he means. The surveillance tape is damaging, but damaging in a political way, not a criminal way. It could be used against Harlan effectively in a political campaign, but …”

  “We can’t wait around until Harlan has to run for county leader again,” said Sam.

  “I know. I know. But there’s one other thing Charlie said.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He said it was obvious that Harlan had a pretty strong reason to gain possession of such a tape, to insure that it not fall into the wrong hands. And then he kind of opened the door.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He said that this tape, in conjunction with something proving that Harlan Greene was making an attempt to buy or otherwise secure possession of it, would present potential criminal liabilities for Harlan. Those were his words. Potential criminal liabilities. And he said anything Harlan might say concerning the events on the surveillance tape would be very, very damaging to his interests.”

  “So he’s telling us that if Harlan Greene were to further incriminate himself … if for example, he were to get more specific than he is on the tape, then something could be pinned on him?”

  “Essentially, yes.”

  “Let me think this thing over and get back to you, Betsy. Okay?”

  “What do you want me to do with the videotape?”

  “I’ll drive over and get it from you later this afternoon.”

  “You know where my office is? It’s right outside Carbondale on the road down to De Soto. We’re in an old one-room schoolhouse, about five miles outside town on the right. You can’t miss us.”

  “I’ll be there in an hour,” said Sam. “And, Betsy, thanks a lot. I know you did everything you could. I’ll figure out something, believe me.”

  “I’ll see you soon,” she said.

  Sam turned around and grabbed Johnny Gee by the arm.

  “Come here,” he commanded. “I want you to call your friend Sheila. She knows Harlan Greene? Well, I want her to set up a meeting with our boy Harlan.”

  “For when?”

  “For tomorrow night.”

  “Where?”

  Sam thought for a moment. “Tell her I’ve got a place, but we’re not going to tell them where until tomorrow. And tell her if Harlan has any questions, just ask him if he remembers the Sheraton Hotel. That ought to pique his interest.”

  “What if she says no?”

  “You know her better than I do. Figure out a way to get her to say yes.”

  “What are you gonna do, man?”

  “I’m going over to Carbondale to pick up the tape. Then I’m driving back down to Fort Campbell. I should be back tonight or early tomorrow morning. Ma?”

  Mrs. Butterfield was outside. He walked across the barnyard to the chicken coop and found her gathering eggs. Through the slats of the coop, he could see the black modified in the shed next door, dusty again, low and menacing in the half-light.

  He told his mother where he was going and when he’d be back. Then he climbed in the Porsche and sped down the drive, headed south.

  It was three-forty-five when Sam pulled up to the Fort Campbell post headquarters building. He parked in a visitor’s slot and hurried inside. On the second floor, near the end of the corridor on the left, was Hillary’s public information office.

  A female Spec-4 mumbled, “Hello, Major,” as he walked by. He found Hillary behind her desk.

  “Sam!” she said, startled. “What are you doing—”

  He didn’t let her finish the sentence.

  “I know you don’t agree with what I’ve decided to do about that situation back home in Illinois, Hillary. But we’ve known each other for a long time now. You know me well enough. I’m here to ask you for a favor, Hillary. It’s not exactly SOP, but if you help me out, I can maybe get things resolved back in Illinois and be back here for work on Monday.”

  “What—what are you asking, Sam?” She stood up and walked around the desk.

  “I know you use videotape cameras and all kinds of video equipment here to film parades and maneuvers and awards ceremonies … well, I want you to loan me one of your professional cameras and recorders.”

  “What—”

  “And I need one of those special low-light image-enhancing lenses, you know what I mean, like a Starlight Scope lens. I’ve seen your crews use them at night in the field. I really need this stuff, Hillary. I can promise you I’ll have it back for you first thing Monday morning.”

  “Sam, that lens is classified. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t—”

  “Look, Hillary. I know I’m asking you to do something that’s not on the books. I’m asking you to take a chance on me. I promise you I won’t let you down.”

  “Sam, you don’t understand. I made major on the five percent list. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. If I do what you ask and there’s some kind of political scandal up there … I could lose it all, Sam. Twelve years down the drain. I really don’t know how you can walk in here and—”

  “That’s all I needed to know, Hillary. Thanks anyway.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Sam, wait.” She caught him at the door, and he turned. “I’m not sure you completely understand where I’m coming
from on this.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me. You don’t owe me this favor. If anything, I owe you the favor of yanking me out of the funk I’ve been in since my divorce. I know what I’ve asked you for isn’t regulation, and if you look at it hard, it doesn’t make a dime’s worth of sense.”

  “But, Sam, I want to explain myself.” She led him to a green leather sofa against the wall. “If we loved each other, Sam … if we were together going to invest the rest of our lives in each other, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d sink or swim with you. But we both know we’re not right for one another. Not now, anyway. We’re both too raw. Our careers are really all we’ve got. I’ve got to protect mine, and you’ve got to protect yours, too, Sam.”

  “I know, Hillary. The only thing is, I’ve made a decision to suspend the defensive perimeter I threw up around myself after my divorce. But I understand if you can’t go along with me. I was asking you something I probably shouldn’t have.”

  “Sam … I … I wish you the best. I really do.”

  He stood up.

  “I know, Hils. And thanks.”

  He walked out of the office, down the stairs, and climbed into the Porsche.

  Twenty minutes later, he was at his battalion headquarters. When he walked into the colonel’s office, he saluted despite the fact that he was wearing jeans, boots, and a blue poplin jacket.

  He explained the situation, and his need for the video camera and Starlight Scope lens to Colonel Duchamp.

  The colonel heard him out, then he withdrew a cigar from a brass box on his desk. He took his time lighting it.

  “You sound like a fuckin’ sergeant, Sam.”

  “What do you mean, sir?”

  “I mean, you sound like one of those scam artists I’ve installed up there in the motor pool. If Uncle Sam had his proper way with them, they’d be in Leavenworth by the end of the week. But what are they doing? They’re keeping every damn vehicle I’ve got in top running order, as ordered. Do I want to know what they’ve got to go through to accomplish this? No, I do not.”