A Spider Sat Beside Her

by K E Lanning

He rose to greet her, dressed in an impeccable but severe suit—he was a man who exuded confidence, but it was edged in arrogance. “Good morning, Ms. Walker. Welcome to D.C.” With a smile on his face but not in his eyes, he shook her hand. “I trust you had a pleasant flight?”

  Nodding, Lowry gazed around the spacious office. It was beautiful, adorned with huge windows that lit the mahogany paneling with bountiful sunlight. His desk looked to be an antique and was probably worth a fortune.

  He observed her gazing at the desk. “I see you’ve noticed the desk; it was brought from the old offices and is over two hundred years old. It’s irreplaceable. But, please, have a seat.” He waved Lowry toward a chair, and she sank into the leather armchair—facing one of the most powerful men in the world.

  They studied each other. Halder was a handsome man in his late forties with intense dark eyes under tightly curled salt-and-pepper hair, which was clipped close to his head. His face was finely chiseled, but with a terminal backward tilt and a slight projection to his chin, his eyes persistently looked down—the hallmark of someone who talks at the person they’re addressing rather than to them.

  His eyes remained locked on hers, like a boxer sizing up an opponent. He pursed his lips, and his mouth twitched into a smile. “Ms. Walker, you appear to be an intelligent woman.”

  “And you appear to be a perceptive man,” she parried.

  He laughed lightly, but his smile faded quickly. “All right, let’s get to why we called you in today, Ms. Walker.”

  “Please, call me Lowry.”

  “Okay.” He folded his hands on the desk and then leaned forward. “Oh, before we get started, you should know that I have spoken with your father.”

  She tilted her head, but swallowed hard. “So I’ve heard.”

  “Your father also seems to have intelligence, as well as a political career ahead of him. Perhaps we can help him to succeed in that career. Amerada does a lot of investing around the world, and Antarctica is one of our lands of interest.”

  Lowry kept her eyes calm as her stomach churned at the taint of depravity. Convenient that Dad didn’t mention a possible quid pro quo dangling out there.

  Inwardly shuddering, she pushed herself deeper into the chair to be as far from him as she could. As if facing a poisonous snake, she had to keep her wits about her.

  She had researched a bit on Mr. Halder’s background—he was intelligent, but with a weakness for power. He appeared to be a person who was born a cold seed and then had become a cold, manipulative man. His modus operandi was a quiet thrust of a political dagger into his enemy’s gut with an equally silent disposal—no muss, no fuss.

  The silence was developing a life of its own when Halder said in a clipped voice, “You seem to be someone who keeps their cards close to the vest.”

  “I find it’s healthier.”

  His lips were tight as he drummed his fingers on the beautiful desk. “Let’s go over your deposition with the other attorney on the case.”

  Halder stood up, and she rose to follow him. He opened a door near a large picture window and smiled as he motioned her to continue into the next room. She passed the window, hesitating as her eyes followed a flock of birds soaring across the blue sky. If only I was that third bird on the left.

  She turned from the window and entered the small conference room, gasping at the sight of Gerwin sitting at the table with his signature smirk pasted on his face. Woodenly, she sat at the table across from Gerwin, and then Halder sat next to her. She shifted in the hard wooden chair as they leaned in toward her.

  Halder cleared his throat. “Lowry, I’ve gone over your deposition that you gave to Mr. Gerwin on the space station right after the event. The reason we wanted to meet with you today is so that you can understand our position and how your impending testimony might impact our case.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Ever since the melting and the subsequent combining of America and Canada into Amerada, the Eskimo tribes have felt threatened, since the treaties they had with Canada are in the process of being rewritten by our legislature. A particular leader of an Inuit group, Mr. Jean-Luc Kimalu, has been threatening the US with action for years, and we think this attack on the space station is their first calling card.”

  Lowry looked uneasily from one man to the other. “I’ve told you all I know already, so what is it you are wanting from me?”

  Gerwin broke in, staring at her as he spoke. “Ms. Walker, the case against Mr. Jean-Luc Kimalu could hinge on your testimony. We must be certain before you go on that stand precisely what is going to be coming out of your mouth.” Like an irate dog, his lip twitched, and his eyes bored into hers. “Do you understand me?”

  Lowry felt her blood pressure rise. Picking someone she hated to persuade her wasn’t the best tactic. Her eyes matched Gerwin’s in a duel to the death.

  “It sounds to me that you want me to say exactly what you want and not deviate from the party line.”

  Halder tapped his finger on the table. Then he sat back with an ominous smile and spoke with a cogent tone. “Lowry, we finally have a case against a terrorist Eskimo group that has been giving the United States of Amerada fits for years. They have been throwing up roadblocks for our people to have a home, people who lost everything when the ice melted.”

  Lowry grimaced. Maybe these two are among the most powerful men in the world, but they aren’t reading me very well. She snapped, “When I was five, my mother and I had to leave our home due to the rising water, but we didn’t have to steal someone else’s land to survive.”

  She looked at Gerwin and then back to Halder. Here goes nothing.

  With a smooth voice, she said, “You are aware that my uncle found evidence, when he searched the site of the OPALS transmission, that the space station may have been attacked by a South American tribe protesting a power plant being built in their tribal lands, and not the Inuits. What about pursuing those leads?”

  Halder cocked his head back further, and the angle of his eyes stabbing arrogantly down at her became deadly. “Your uncle did tell us that story, and if they were viable leads, we would chase them down.”

  With a slight shake of her head, Lowry asked, “Why do you say they are not viable?”

  Gerwin slammed his fist onto the table, shouting, “We’re not the ones being interrogated here!”

  Lowry turned to Gerwin and dismissed him with a long blink of her eyes. She shifted her eyes back to Halder.

  Halder’s eyes glistened as he met her gaze. He raised his hand to stop Gerwin from continuing. “Now, Mr. Gerwin, Lowry is a thinking human, so we just have to explain the facts to her.”

  A fleeting smile crossed Halder’s mouth before he continued smoothly. “We have a solid motive for the Inuit tribes to involve themselves with the shutdown of the space station.” His face became rigid, and with the end of his index finger striking the table, he said harshly, “The US cannot tolerate terrorism in the homeland, whether they strike on the land or on the space station, and mark my words, Lowry, we will bring them to justice with your help or without. And if it is without your help, you may find your future just a little more difficult, my young friend. Do you understand the penalty for aiding and abetting a crime?”

  He stood up and walked over to the large window in the conference room. He gazed out over the city, his handsome profile highlighted against the bright sky.

  “And your uncle, of course, is under the same scrutiny.”

  Lowry retorted, “My uncle had nothing to do with this, and there’s no way to prove he did.”

  Halder pivoted toward her. He stood motionless, staring at her with callous eyes, like someone accelerating toward a squirrel in the road. Then, with his lips clamped into a fixed smile, he approached her chair with deliberate steps and leaned over her shoulder, placing his hand on the table. He began to speak, and Lowry flinched against his breath caressing her cheek. “You see, Lowry, life just isn’t fair. The settlers are moving into the land to the north,
just like the European settlers did when this continent was first colonized.”

  His voice dropped to a whisper, and the hair rose on the back of Lowry’s neck. “It’s as simple as this: the people of Amerada want that land, and the people will get it.” He smiled down at her with teeth perfect and white. “And there’s not a rat’s-ass thing you or I can do about it. It’s the human way.”

  Halder stood up, tapping his chin as if analyzing a problem. “And what about you, Lowry? Isn’t it odd that you received this supposed ‘transmission’ that shut the power off to the space station?” He turned and walked to the end of the table, continuing in his velvet voice, “You’ve recently been divorced. In many of these difficult situations, people harbor ideas of suicide, and unfortunately, some poor souls might wish to create a spectacle of it.” He gazed at her, lifting his hand into the air. “What higher drama would there be than to bring down a hundred people on the space station with you?”

  Abruptly, he bent toward her with his mouth taut. “Perhaps we might contact your ex-husband and get a statement from him. Frank, I believe, is his name?”

  Lowry pinched her lips together; obviously, her father had filled them in very well. But she had faced demons in her life with courage—she could never bow to this vile man and allow him to manipulate her with his devious tactics. The hardships she had endured had unbound her from the fear of loss, and with that freedom, power was springing forth.

  She bit the inside of her lip, meeting his stare with one of her own. She coolly replied, “I’ve done some studying of your methods in dealing with the Eskimo tribes in the Arctic regions. You’ve managed an incredible campaign of tying up treaty renewals so that illegal homesteading can flourish without consequence. You point the finger at Congress and shrug that there is nothing legally you can do to stop the stealing of Eskimo lands.” Squinting at him, her nose twitched. “The smell of corruption oozes out of you.”

  Halder’s mouth bent into the shape of a smile. “Politics is a dance of subtle corruptions hidden behind a veil of humility. A palm greased here, a good deed done there—all in balance.”

  She gazed at him. “Mr. Halder, perhaps you have Borgian ancestry?”

  “Ah, you’re a student of history.”

  She replied lightly, “I find it helpful to survive.”

  Halder’s lips were as thin as a razor. “Yes, to survive.”

  No one spoke for several minutes; the tension palpable as no one yielded their position.

  Then Lowry spoke softly to Mr. Halder. “Do you ride horses, sir?”

  His eyebrows furrowed, and then he blinked. “What?”

  “Do you know anything about horses?”

  “Not a thing.”

  Lowry gazed from Halder to Gerwin as they stared back, momentarily frozen into their respective roles—the intimidating confidence of Halder and the self-important pig eyes of Gerwin. But despite their arrogance and power, these were little men—on top for an instant in time, with the next kingmaker waiting in the wings. History would be the judge of them.

  Her face was placid as she spoke. “The survival instinct of each horse within the herd requires it to discern the hierarchy of the group. The first time you ride a horse, they will determine who is going to dominate whom, and the rider prevails with a combination of intelligence and tenacity. If you win their trust and respect, you can have a great partnership. But if not . . . you find yourself eating dirt.”

  Lowry got up and shot them each a look. “Enjoy the dirt, gentlemen.” She walked around the table toward the door and said, “I’ll see you in the courtroom.”

  CHAPTER 20

  The attorney for the defense had a small office several blocks away from the courthouse—nothing like the Department of Justice’s stunning edifice. Lowry walked up the stairway, found the offices, and opened the door to a small reception area. No one was there to greet her, but she heard a phone ringing and a woman’s voice answering the phone from a back office area.

  After a minute, a female voice called out from the other room. “Hello?”

  In a loud voice, Lowry replied, “Yes, I’m Lowry Walker, here to meet with Ms. Chavez on the case against the Inuit?”

  A woman walked into the reception area, smiled, and shook Lowry’s hand. “That would be me, Anita Chavez. Thanks for coming, Ms. Walker.”

  “Please, call me Lowry.”

  Chavez cocked her head. “I’ll apologize in advance for a bit of chaos around the office. Our secretary is out today; her kids are sick. So, of course, the phones won’t stop ringing.” She waved Lowry to follow her back to her office. “Lowry, would you like some coffee or something to drink? I can grab something for you—”

  “No, I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Okay, let’s go back to my office,” said Chavez. Lowry followed her into a small office with a window overlooking an alleyway.

  “Please be seated.”

  Lowry gazed at the indigenous artwork gracing the walls and shelves.

  Chavez waved to the artifacts. “We work for pennies here, but the gifts we receive outweigh any compensation.” She folded her hands. “Lowry, I’m a public defender who specializes as an advocate for indigenous people in the States. As mentioned, the pay sucks, but I sleep well at night.” Chavez’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at the caller ID. “Sorry—let me catch this call, and then I’ll turn it off.”

  Ms. Chavez was obviously bright and dedicated to her causes, but it also appeared that she was extremely overworked. Lowry wondered about her capabilities of sparring with someone as razor-sharp and unscrupulous as Halder. But honestly, she was probably all that the defendant had money to pay for.

  Chavez pulled up the file for the defendant, Mr. Kimalu, and then opened Lowry’s deposition.

  Lowry raised her finger and said, “Ms. Chavez, before we get started—I know you’re the one who called me to testify at the trial—but I want you to know that the Attorney General asked to review the deposition with me as well. I met with them yesterday.”

  Chavez sat back in her chair, blinking as she scrutinized Lowry’s face. “How did that go?”

  “Honestly, if you want to know the truth, I believe that the government just wants to prosecute your client in order to shut up the Inuit tribe so they’ll stop making trouble for the settlers who want to take their land.”

  Chavez looked at her quizzically and then said with a smile, “Well, I think you’ve summed that up pretty nicely.” But then her face turned serious, and she drummed her fingers on the desk. “Unfortunately, there is a good chance that they will succeed in their plans.”

  Lowry spoke in a hushed tone. “There is another possible set of suspects that I’m assuming you haven’t heard about, since the government doesn’t want any hint of another group being responsible for the station shutdown.”

  Chavez held up her hand for Lowry to stop. She turned to her computer and started some music playing in the background to cover their conversation. Turning back to Lowry, she nodded. “Just in case of prying ears. Go on.”

  “The only thing we really know is that the message came from Antarctica, which you are aware of, but after investigating the area where the signal was transmitted, my uncle Nick discovered some evidence that a Colombian tribe may have sent the signal as a part of a protest over a power plant that is planned to be built within their tribal lands.”

  Chavez pursed her lips. “Well, I haven’t heard that story or any other possible suspects who may be involved, but can you tell me what the evidence is?”

  “My uncle found a blow dart near the transmission location. He knew of a Colombian miner at the mining station, and went to ask about the dart, but he had moved out. In the miner’s room, Nick discovered a 1998 newspaper clipping of a threatened mass suicide of the tribe if their land was desecrated. This year marks the hundred-year anniversary of the protest.”

  With a grimace, Chavez replied, “Hmm, that’s the only evidence? Sounds pretty circumstantial.”

&nbs
p; Lowry sighed, nodding her head. “I’m afraid so.”

  Chavez knitted her brow, with a finger on her lips. “But still, worth throwing doubt of my client’s guilt if there is even a hint of other possible perpetrators, so I appreciate you telling me this.” Her eyes searched Lowry’s face. “What is the prosecution’s attitude toward you testifying? If you are hostile to their case, it sounds like they would just as soon you weren’t on the witness stand.”

  Lowry shrugged. “Only a few threats of ‘aiding and abetting’ and how our futures may be ‘troubled’ if I testify to the possibility of other suspects.”

  Chavez paused, and then she spoke softly. “You know, Lowry, it’s quite true that they could make things difficult for you, so if you don’t feel comfortable with me asking the question as to whether you believe there may be other suspects, I need to know that now.”

  “I can’t deny that I’m worried.” Lowry exhaled. “But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t testify that there may be other suspects and let your client go to jail for something that I don’t know that he did.” She looked at Chavez. “If you ask me the question, I’ll answer it truthfully. What can they really do to me that’s worse than living with a lie?”

  Chavez sighed deeply. “The Attorney General has an agenda, and anyone who gets in his way is apt to get run over, and I’ll warn you, that may not just be a figure of speech. He’ll want to mitigate every risk that might upset his agenda, and he isn’t above buying a federal judge here, stacking a jury there, to make sure of an outcome.” Chavez narrowed her eyes at Lowry. “At the moment, you’re a risk to him winning the case.”

  Chavez leaned back, her face drawn and weary. “It seems that we are living through the same thing that happened with the opening of the Old West in America, but now it’s the opening of the North. What I’m afraid of is that the Eskimo tribes are just going to be collateral damage, and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it.”

  “Oddly, Mr. Halder said the same thing.”

  Chavez blinked. “Frightening.” She stood up. “Thank you for coming in today, Lowry, and telling me what your uncle found, but I’ll have to think about what is best for Jean-Luc and our case.” Then she looked intently at Lowry. “But remember, Halder isn’t someone to cross. You’d better watch your back, my friend.”