“I think we’re getting off track.”
“Are we? Because, quite honestly, I think we’re right on track. The fact is, it’s my duty not only as an elected congresswoman but as a woman—as an American citizen—to do whatever it takes to protect this country. So that’s why I agreed to meet with you, Ben. I may not like it, I may think this is a terrible idea and that it will get us all killed, but I can’t rightly sit back and do nothing. I’ve already done nothing for long enough. Now, ask your questions.”
“Okay,” I said. “Who’s Caesar?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you’ve been in the Inner Circle for years.”
“Nearly twenty.”
“Nearly twenty,” I said. “And in all that time, you’ve never once talked to him.”
“Nobody talks to Caesar.”
“Then how do you know he even exists?” Before she could respond, I said, “You know what, forget I asked. Let’s focus on something else.”
“Such as?”
“Your rape and subsequent abortion.”
The silence that hung in the limo then was as thick and heavy as the granite that built the Fillmore.
Stark murmured, “Jesus Christ.”
How many seconds passed, I wasn’t sure, because I kept my full attention on the congresswoman. And she on me.
“Ben,” Stark said, shifting in his seat, “what the hell are you doing?”
“Currently having a staring contest with Congresswoman Houser. You want dibs on the winner?”
“He’s trying to rile me up,” the congresswoman said, not breaking my stare. “He doesn’t trust me, just as I’m sure he doesn’t trust you, Edward. Isn’t that right, Ben?”
“One day I woke up in a motel without my family and learned I couldn’t trust anybody.”
“What about your friend Carver? Do you trust him?”
“He has his moments.”
Silence again ... and then the congresswoman blinked with a sigh.
“Very well,” she said. “What do you want me to tell you? It happened in college. I was nineteen. The man who raped me raped several other girls. He didn’t use protection, and I became pregnant, and so I had an abortion. The whole traumatic episode was made public years ago when I decided to run for office, which I’m guessing you already know.”
It was true—I knew all about it, or at least as much as was documented. She had tried keeping it quiet at first, but when she ran for Congress her opposition dug deep into her past, as the political opposition is wont to do, and unburied the remains of her unborn and unwanted child. To the congresswoman’s credit, she didn’t back down. In fact, she had used it to strengthen her campaign, running on the issue of a woman’s right to choose. The fact she had been raped only led to more public sympathy.
But that wasn’t the reason I asked. The reason I asked was I wanted to see her eyes when she spoke. It would help me with my next question.
“How did you become a member of the Inner Circle?”
She smiled. “Finally, after much trotting, we get to the point.”
“I try not to disappoint the ladies.”
“We could have done this over the phone.”
“You’re right, we could have,” I said, and waited.
She sighed again. “It was my husband who became a member. He took many trips to Manhattan on business. One of the men he drank with—a close business associate, I guess you could say—eventually keyed him into it.”
“Was there an application process?”
She gave me a bored look. “I haven’t the slightest idea. But he did keep it a secret from me. At least at first he did. I don’t think then he understood exactly what it was he had gotten himself into. In fact, I know he didn’t understand what he had gotten himself into. The reason I found out about it was because of the money he was donating.”
“Donating?”
“Well, that was what he told me, and what he told our accountant so that he could write it off as a tax deduction. Apparently that’s what everyone else in the Inner Circle does.”
“Did he watch the games?”
“At first, yes. But then he quickly stopped. They disturbed him greatly. My husband was always an easygoing man. I sensed almost immediately a shift in his mood.”
“How did you find out about it?”
“He confessed it to me one night. He told me everything. He said at first he was intrigued, because this was a group that wanted to change the world for the better. Everything was falling apart, but they wanted to make things right. So why wouldn’t he want to join them? But then ... then he was introduced to the games. He didn’t think they were real at first, but very soon he realized that wasn’t the case. They were very real. And he was scared. Not so much by the games, he told me, but by the people who were in charge of the games. But he knew he couldn’t stop being a member. He had heard rumors from his friend that there had been others who had been disturbed and who wanted to leave but who’d had ... accidents.”
I thought of Claire Abele who’d had one such accident after she had given me her blessing to marry her daughter. I only found out later that it had been her husband who had made sure she died for her sins against him.
“So then what happened?”
“We kept it a secret. We knew by that point there was nothing that could be done. And the Inner Circle ... despite the money we gave them, they were generous to us. When I started getting into politics and ran for city council, I received a large anonymous donation. It practically helped cover all my costs. The same thing happened when I ran for Congress. In many ways, the Inner Circle helped put me where I am today.”
“Despite the fact they were also killing innocent people.”
“What would you have had me do? At that point we were helpless. We merely did what we could to survive. Besides, they never asked anything from us. It wasn’t like they were lobbyists.”
“That’s a nice way to rationalize it.”
“I seriously thought I could make a difference. Like many politicians just starting out, I was naïve. I thought, despite everything my husband had gotten into with the Inner Circle, I could make things better for our country. But the truth is, our country is broken.”
“What happened to your husband?”
“He had a heart attack.”
“I know that. But why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
I just stared back at her.
Understanding crossed her face, and she slowly shook her head. “If you’re thinking they killed him, they didn’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. At least, I’m as positive as I can be. But I did suspect it at first. I was—and am still—very paranoid.”
“So how does our FBI friend enter the story?”
“Edward didn’t tell you?”
“I was waiting to ask until we were all together.”
“I see.” She allowed a small smile. “Maybe you are more paranoid than me after all.”
I said nothing.
“Well, I never really watched the games, but I would let them play every so often. I knew my continuing participation was required, even though my husband was gone. Because the Inner Circle had already given me so much money for my campaigns, I was notified that I was now a member and expected to make regular donations. As you can imagine, I knew better than to protest.”
“I think we’re getting off track again.”
Her lips tightened, and she sighed. “It was your game.”
“My game?”
“Yes. That’s what eventually led me to contact Edward.”
For the first time since entering the limo I frowned. First at Ronny, then at Stark, then back at the congresswoman. “Would you care to elaborate?”
“As you already know, your game made a lot of waves. Until then, I hadn’t been aware of Carver Ellison. Again, I never watched many of the games, and those that I did watch I had on in the background until they were done a
nd I could turn them off. So it ... shocked me at first, to know that there were people like Carver not only aware of the games, but doing what they could to stop them. It made me feel ... almost hopeful for the first time in a long while.”
She tilted her head down, smoothed her pants with her hands.
“From everything that happened in that game, I wondered how they were going to be able to keep it all quiet. There wasn’t anyone I could tell, or talk to about it, so I had this idea. I created Google Alerts for you, and for Carver, and your game names, and even the name of that retirement home that was bombed. I knew it was a risk, that they monitor everything, but I also knew it was a risk worth taking. Then, weeks later, I received an email that directed me to your story.”
It was then, she admitted, she realized she had crossed a line and there was no going back. Creating those Google Alerts had been a risk, yes—a very huge risk, in fact—but even if something had come up, she could have ignored it. But now here was something that threatened to destroy the Inner Circle, and she readily devoured it. She read it through once, twice, three times. Each time she cried. And each time she wondered if there was anything she could do to somehow change things.
“So then what happened?”
“I decided to contact Carver’s supervisor at the FBI. Only I didn’t know who his supervisor was—you hadn’t given a name in your story. But I knew what section he worked in, at least from what you had written, so I began to quietly make inquiries. I claimed I was looking into ways to make sure my constituency would be safe against child pornographers and even online terrorism. I asked around, and was eventually put in contact with Edward. I began to suspect he was indeed Carver’s supervisor, but I couldn’t quite tell whether or not he had purposefully set Carver up. Then I realized there was no need for subterfuge—I was a member of the Inner Circle, after all. One day while we were alone I simply asked him about Carver.”
Here Stark cleared his throat and leaned forward, taking over the story.
“Truthfully, she scared the shit out of me. As I told you, by then I had begun to suspect something had happened to Carver, and here now I became even more paranoid. I denied it at first, because quite honestly, I didn’t know much about it. I asked how she even knew about Carver—by that point it seemed nobody even remembered him, even though he had been gone for only a year. The congresswoman looked me straight in the eye and said—” He looked at her. “Do you remember what you said?”
She nodded. “I asked, ‘Are you a member of the Inner Circle too?’ I knew it was a risk, but I knew that if he was a member, everything would be fine. We could, I don’t know, laugh about it and be on our way. But if he wasn’t a member, then that would be okay, too. And I watched his eyes, just like you’ve been watching my eyes, Ben, to see if he was lying. Tell me, do you believe me so far?”
“I’m not sure yet. I guess that depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Are you going to help us?”
“That’s a good question,” she said. “I’m still asking myself the same thing.”
55
The limo let us out down near the Financial District, a few blocks away from the World Trade Center Memorial. I lit up a smoke almost immediately.
Ronny said, “Maybe you should cut back on the smoking.”
“Maybe you should cut back on the gum chewing.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I. That can’t be at all good for your jaw.” I tilted my head down the street. “Come on.”
We started walking down the block. Nearby was a subway station.
“So what do you think?” Ronny asked.
“I’m not sure yet. You?”
“She put on a good face, but she seemed scared.”
“That she did.”
We came to the Rector Street subway entrance. I pulled out my phone and dialed the Kid’s number as I took one last drag of my cigarette.
“We’re headed back.”
“How long?”
“Probably an hour.”
“How did it go?”
“Pretty much as expected.”
“Is she going to help?”
“She says she still needs to think about it.”
“What the fuck,” the Kid said. “She does realize the fucking thing is happening tonight, doesn’t she?”
“Stark said he’ll call later, either way.”
“I’m glad we could wait until the very last minute. Bet you wish you’d taken along my program, huh?”
He meant the program used both times we’d spoken to Edward Stark, first over the phone and then face-to-face. The problem was the Kid, despite his assurances to the contrary, could not place the program on one of the iPhones fast enough. Besides, we’d agreed to only use burners while in the city, to ensure nobody could listen in on our calls or somehow manage to track us. Also, I wasn’t sure what level of nervousness the congresswoman would have shown when I whipped out my phone and told her to keep talking, that this would alert me every time she lied.
“I’ll see you when I see you.” I slipped the phone back into my pocket, caught Ronny giving me a look. “What?”
He opened his mouth but hesitated. Shook his head.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Now it was my turn to give him a look. “Don’t you think it’s time for a new piece of gum?”
He shook his head, and we started down the steps into the subway station.
• • •
WE TOOK THE N train up to Union Square, transferred to the 4, and rode that up to Lexington Avenue. Then we waited for the N, which took us back downtown, where we ended back at Times Square. There we waited for the 2, which then took us uptown.
Were we being too overly cautious? Perhaps. But if I’d learned anything in the past two years, being overly cautious was better than being dead. Carver had trained us to keep an eye out for possible tails, but in a city of over eight million people, a dog would have a hard time keeping track of its own tail, let alone someone meaning to track and kill you.
Eventually we came to our stop. We scanned the terminal, made sure we were clear, and headed up to the street.
“Let me guess,” Ronny said as we climbed the stairs, “you’re going to light up the moment we hit the sidewalk.”
My hand was already in my pocket, reaching for my smokes. I glowered at him. “Not anymore I’m not.”
He offered me a yellow stick of Juicy Fruit. “How about an alternative?”
“Why, Ronny, I thought you would never ask.”
We waited on the sidewalk for another minute, both of us chewing our gum, waiting to see if anyone else might linger. When it was clear we definitely didn’t have a tail, I pulled out my phone and dialed the Kid. I told him we would be there in ten, and then I disconnected the call and walked over to the nearest overflowing trashcan and added my gum to the detritus.
I shrugged at Ronny. “That doesn’t keep its flavor long at all, does it?”
We started up the block. When we turned at the corner and headed east, I asked, “So what’s on your mind?”
“I told you it was nothing.”
“No, it’s definitely something. What is it?”
“It’s just ...”
“Yeah?”
“What the congresswoman asked you about—you being suicidal.”
“What about it?”
“Are you?”
We came to an intersection and waited for the light. I pulled out a cigarette and took my time lighting it.
Ronny waited.
The light changed and neither of us moved. Those few around us did, heading in different directions. It wasn’t that busy where we were, but there were people around, and for some reason I didn’t feel like talking.
“Do you remember what you said to me back in Miami?” Ronny asked. “After we thought Carver was dead and left the Beachside?”
I took a long drag, let the smoke drift out through
my nose. “Enlighten me.”
“You said all of us are already dead. We just don’t know it yet.”
“Really? That’s kind of badass.”
“Ben.”
“What?”
“You’re slipping.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“I think you think you know what you’re doing, but I’m talking about spiritually.”
I rolled my eyes, surveyed the street, started across to the other side.
Ronny kept pace beside me. “This isn’t a God or Jesus thing, either. It’s just ... you know what you’re doing—I have no doubt in my mind about that—and I know you have all the right intentions. But I think deep down, you want to die.”
I took another long drag of the cigarette and flicked it into the gutter. “Are we done?”
“I know you think you have nothing left to live for, but that’s not true. There’s never any good reason to want to die, Ben. None. God put us here to live—”
“I thought you said this wasn’t a God or Jesus thing.”
“Listen to me,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a halt. “I don’t want to die. Drew doesn’t want to die. The Kid doesn’t want to die. Maya doesn’t want to die. Are you seeing a pattern?”
“Let go of my arm.”
He sighed and released his grip. “It’s crazy what we’re planning to do tonight—everybody thinks so—but we’re doing it with a purpose. Our purpose is to save Carver and stop Caesar if possible. We all know the risks. We all know that it’s possible some of us may die. But the difference, Ben? None of us wants to die.”
“They’re dead.”
“What?”
“Jen and Casey. They’re dead.”
Judging by his expression this wasn’t at all what he had expected to hear. “What are you talking about?”
“I watched them die.”
“Ben, you’re not making any sense.”
“Do you remember a month after my game, after I had written about what happened and the Kid posted it everywhere online?”
The Inner Circle (Man of Wax Trilogy) Page 27
