Six Years
Page 56
I remembered now—that car coming up the driveway as the cops found my buried phone.
“Are you going to shoot me?” I asked.
“You should have listened to Cookie.”
“I couldn’t. You of all people should understand that.”
“Me?” There was something akin to fury in his voice now. “Are you out of your mind? You said it before. I did all this to keep the woman I loved safe. But you? You’re trying to get her killed.”
“Are you going to shoot me, yes or no?”
“I need you to understand.”
“I think I do,” I said. “Like we said before, you worked as a prosecutor. You put some really bad people in jail. They tried to seek vengeance on you.”
“They did more than try,” he said softly, gazing again at Marie-Anne’s photograph. “They took her. They even . . . they even hurt her.”
“Oh no,” I said.
His eyes filled with tears. “It was a warning. I managed to get her back. But that was when I knew for certain that the two of us had to leave.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“They’d find us. The Ghana cartel smuggles for the Latin Americans. Their tentacles can reach anyplace. Wherever we’d go, they’d track us down. I thought about faking both of our deaths, but . . .”
“But what?”
“But Malcolm said they’d never buy it.”
I swallowed. “Malcolm Hume?”
He nodded. “See, Fresh Start had people in the area. They heard about my situation. Professor Hume was put in charge of me. He went off protocol though. Sent me here because I thought I could be of value as both a teacher and, if they needed me, someone to help others.”
“You mean, someone like Natalie?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“It is very compartmentalized. Different people deal with different aspects and different members. I only worked with Malcolm. I spent some time in that training facility in Vermont, but until a few days ago I never knew about Todd Sanderson, for example.”
“So our friendship,” I said. “Was that part of your work? Were you supposed to keep an eye on me?”
“No. Why would we need to keep an eye on you?”
“Because of Natalie.”
“I told you. I never met her. I don’t know anything about her case.”
“But she does have a case, doesn’t she?”
“You don’t get it. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “No one has ever said anything to me about your Natalie.”
“But it makes sense, right? You’ll grant me that?”
He didn’t respond.
“You didn’t call it a retreat,” I said. “You called it a training center. How brilliant, really. Disguising it as some kind of artist retreat in such a remote area. Who’d suspect, right?”
“I’ve said too much already,” Benedict said. “It isn’t important.”
“Like hell it isn’t. Fresh Start. I should have guessed by the name. That’s what they do. They give people who need it a fresh start. A drug cartel wanted you dead. So they saved you. Gave you a fresh start. I don’t know what that entails—fake IDs, I guess. A plausible reason for a person to vanish. A dead body in your case. Or maybe you paid off a coroner or a cop, I don’t know. Maybe some kind of training on how to behave, learn a language or a new accent, maybe wear a disguise like yours. By the way, can you take those stupid glasses off now?”
He almost smiled. “Can’t. I used to wear contact lenses.”
I shook my head. “So six years ago, Natalie is up at this training center. I don’t know why yet. I assume that it has something to do with that surveillance photograph the NYPD showed us. Maybe she committed a crime, but my guess is, she witnessed something. Something big.”
I stopped. Something here wasn’t adding up, but I pushed on.
“We met,” I said. “We fell in love. That was probably frowned upon or maybe, I don’t know, she was up there for another reason when we started our relationship. I don’t really get what happened exactly, but all of a sudden Natalie had to vanish. She had to vanish fast. If she wanted to take me too, how would your organization have reacted?”
“Not positively.”
“Right. Like with you and Marie-Anne.” I barely stopped to think about it now, the pieces just falling into place. “But Natalie also knew me. She knew how I felt about her. She knew that if she just broke up with me, I’d never buy it. She knew if she suddenly disappeared, vanished, I’d follow her to the ends of the earth. That I’d never give up on her.”
Benedict just stared at me, not saying a word.
“So what happened next?” I went on. “I guess that your organization could have faked her death, like with you, but nobody would buy it in her case. If guys like Danny Zuker and the NYPD were looking for her, they’d need some pretty solid proof that she was dead. They’d need to see her body and with DNA, well, I don’t know. It wouldn’t work. So she staged that fake wedding. In many ways it was perfect. It would convince me and, at the same time, it would convince her sister and close friends. Several birds, one stone. She told me that Todd was an old boyfriend that she had recently decided was her true love. That was a lot more plausible than a guy she’d just met. But when I asked Julie about him, she said she had never met Todd. She just thought it was a whirlwind romance. Either way, even if we all felt it was odd, what could we do about it? Natalie was married and gone.”
I looked up at him.
“Am I right, Benedict? Or Jamal? Or whatever the hell your name is? Am I at least close?”
“I don’t know. I’m not lying. I know nothing about Natalie.”
“Are you going to shoot me?”
He still had the gun in hand. “No, Jake, I don’t think so.”
“Why not? What about your precious oath?”
“The oath is for real. You have no idea how real.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. My grandmother used to keep her pills in one just like it. “We all carry one of these.”
“What’s in it?” I asked.
He opened it. There was only one black-and-yellow capsule inside. “Cyanide,” he said simply, the word chilling the room. “Whoever grabbed Todd Sanderson, well, he must have caught Todd off guard, before he had a chance to jam it in his mouth.” He took a step toward me. “You see now, don’t you? You see why Natalie made you promise?”
“Are you going to shoot me?” I asked.
“You should have listened to Cookie.”
“I couldn’t. You of all people should understand that.”
“Me?” There was something akin to fury in his voice now. “Are you out of your mind? You said it before. I did all this to keep the woman I loved safe. But you? You’re trying to get her killed.”
“Are you going to shoot me, yes or no?”
“I need you to understand.”
“I think I do,” I said. “Like we said before, you worked as a prosecutor. You put some really bad people in jail. They tried to seek vengeance on you.”
“They did more than try,” he said softly, gazing again at Marie-Anne’s photograph. “They took her. They even . . . they even hurt her.”
“Oh no,” I said.
His eyes filled with tears. “It was a warning. I managed to get her back. But that was when I knew for certain that the two of us had to leave.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“They’d find us. The Ghana cartel smuggles for the Latin Americans. Their tentacles can reach anyplace. Wherever we’d go, they’d track us down. I thought about faking both of our deaths, but . . .”
“But what?”
“But Malcolm said they’d never buy it.”
I swallowed. “Malcolm Hume?”
He nodded. “See, Fresh Start had people in the area. They heard about my situation. Professor Hume was put in charge of me. He went off protocol though. Sent me here because I thought I could be of value as both a teacher and, if they needed me, someone to help others.”
“You mean, someone like Natalie?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“It is very compartmentalized. Different people deal with different aspects and different members. I only worked with Malcolm. I spent some time in that training facility in Vermont, but until a few days ago I never knew about Todd Sanderson, for example.”
“So our friendship,” I said. “Was that part of your work? Were you supposed to keep an eye on me?”
“No. Why would we need to keep an eye on you?”
“Because of Natalie.”
“I told you. I never met her. I don’t know anything about her case.”
“But she does have a case, doesn’t she?”
“You don’t get it. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “No one has ever said anything to me about your Natalie.”
“But it makes sense, right? You’ll grant me that?”
He didn’t respond.
“You didn’t call it a retreat,” I said. “You called it a training center. How brilliant, really. Disguising it as some kind of artist retreat in such a remote area. Who’d suspect, right?”
“I’ve said too much already,” Benedict said. “It isn’t important.”
“Like hell it isn’t. Fresh Start. I should have guessed by the name. That’s what they do. They give people who need it a fresh start. A drug cartel wanted you dead. So they saved you. Gave you a fresh start. I don’t know what that entails—fake IDs, I guess. A plausible reason for a person to vanish. A dead body in your case. Or maybe you paid off a coroner or a cop, I don’t know. Maybe some kind of training on how to behave, learn a language or a new accent, maybe wear a disguise like yours. By the way, can you take those stupid glasses off now?”
He almost smiled. “Can’t. I used to wear contact lenses.”
I shook my head. “So six years ago, Natalie is up at this training center. I don’t know why yet. I assume that it has something to do with that surveillance photograph the NYPD showed us. Maybe she committed a crime, but my guess is, she witnessed something. Something big.”
I stopped. Something here wasn’t adding up, but I pushed on.
“We met,” I said. “We fell in love. That was probably frowned upon or maybe, I don’t know, she was up there for another reason when we started our relationship. I don’t really get what happened exactly, but all of a sudden Natalie had to vanish. She had to vanish fast. If she wanted to take me too, how would your organization have reacted?”
“Not positively.”
“Right. Like with you and Marie-Anne.” I barely stopped to think about it now, the pieces just falling into place. “But Natalie also knew me. She knew how I felt about her. She knew that if she just broke up with me, I’d never buy it. She knew if she suddenly disappeared, vanished, I’d follow her to the ends of the earth. That I’d never give up on her.”
Benedict just stared at me, not saying a word.
“So what happened next?” I went on. “I guess that your organization could have faked her death, like with you, but nobody would buy it in her case. If guys like Danny Zuker and the NYPD were looking for her, they’d need some pretty solid proof that she was dead. They’d need to see her body and with DNA, well, I don’t know. It wouldn’t work. So she staged that fake wedding. In many ways it was perfect. It would convince me and, at the same time, it would convince her sister and close friends. Several birds, one stone. She told me that Todd was an old boyfriend that she had recently decided was her true love. That was a lot more plausible than a guy she’d just met. But when I asked Julie about him, she said she had never met Todd. She just thought it was a whirlwind romance. Either way, even if we all felt it was odd, what could we do about it? Natalie was married and gone.”
I looked up at him.
“Am I right, Benedict? Or Jamal? Or whatever the hell your name is? Am I at least close?”
“I don’t know. I’m not lying. I know nothing about Natalie.”
“Are you going to shoot me?”
He still had the gun in hand. “No, Jake, I don’t think so.”
“Why not? What about your precious oath?”
“The oath is for real. You have no idea how real.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. My grandmother used to keep her pills in one just like it. “We all carry one of these.”
“What’s in it?” I asked.
He opened it. There was only one black-and-yellow capsule inside. “Cyanide,” he said simply, the word chilling the room. “Whoever grabbed Todd Sanderson, well, he must have caught Todd off guard, before he had a chance to jam it in his mouth.” He took a step toward me. “You see now, don’t you? You see why Natalie made you promise?”
