Capital Crimes

14

JAMES HELLER, bone-tired, dragged himself out of his car and into the kitchen through the door from the garage. His internal security people insisted that he never get into or out of a car at his home, except in the garage.

His wife was not in the kitchen, and her car was not in the garage, so he assumed she was out. He hoped to God she would bring something home for dinner, because he loathed her cooking, not that she cooked very often. He walked into the central hall of the house and stopped, listening. The only sound in the house was the clicking of a keyboard, and it came from the little room under the stairs, where his fifteen-year-old son James Jr. had made himself a computer room. He walked down the hall, stopped at the open door and looked inside. For the life of him, he could not understand why a teenager would need three computers, two printers, a scanner, and God knew what else, all crammed into the tiny space. It was much neater than the boy’s room. “Hi, Jimmy,” he said.

“Hey, Dad,” the boy mumbled, not looking up from the monitor.

“What’s up?”

“Not much.” He began typing very fast.

So much for the father-son relationship, Heller thought. He walked back down the hall and into his mahogany-paneled study, opened a cabinet door designed to look like a bookcase, filled a glass with ice, then filled it with twelve-year-old Scotch. He sank into a leather armchair, propped his feet up on the ottoman, found the remote control, and switched on the TV.

“FBI sources tell us that the Bureau believes that the murders of Senator Frederick Wallace and talk-show host Van Vandervelt may have been committed by the same man. Asked what the connections between the two killings were, a spokesman declined comment. The investigation is being run by the Bureau’s top investigator, Deputy Director for Criminal Investigations Robert Kinney, who has assembled a small group of senior agents who will work only on the two murders.”

“Jesus,” Heller muttered. “I didn’t know that, but CNN has it?” He switched off the set in disgust and pulled on the Scotch, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the rear cushion. He had just dozed off when he jerked awake. “What?” he said.

“You gotta see this, Dad,” Jimmy was saying.

Heller leaned his head back again. “Not now, Jimmy, I’m really beat.”

“Daaad,” the boy whined. “This is important. It’s Bureau stuff.”

Heller didn’t understand. “On the computer?”

“On the Internet. Come on, you gotta look at this.”

“Jimmy, can you give me just fifteen minutes to get my strength back?”

“Is that what whiskey does? Gives you your strength back? Forget it.” The boy left the room in disgust.

Heller tried to go back to sleep and failed. The tone of his son’s voice had cut him like a knife. “Oh, all right,” he said, struggling out of the chair and bringing along his Scotch. He walked down the hall to Jimmy’s computer room. “What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t want to bother you,” Jimmy replied. “Maybe tomorrow you’ll feel up to it.”

“Come on, Jimmy, I got up and came down here. What’s going on?”

“Just something I came across on the Internet.”

“And what would that be?” He pulled at the Scotch.

“Just something about those murders you guys are trying to solve.”

“Murders? You mean Senator Wallace and… that other guy?”

“Van Vandervelt. He was cool. I listened to his show all the time.”

It irked Heller that his son thought a jerk like Vandervelt was “cool,” but he tried not to show it. “Doesn’t his show come on when you’re in school?”

“Yeah, but I record it every day. I’ll miss the guy.”

“Well, I’m sure that by tomorrow they’ll have another jerk to replace Vandervelt.”

“He’s not a jerk. He’s right.”

“Right-wing, maybe. He’s wrong about everything else.”

“Then I guess you wouldn’t be interested in seeing his picture on this website with a big X drawn through it.”

“What website is that, Jimmy?” Heller just barely knew what a website was. His secretary had to print out his email for him.

“It’s called ACT NOW,” Jimmy said. “Just a minute: I’ll bring it up for you.” He tapped the keys madly. “There you go.”

Heller walked over and stood behind his son. There, on the monitor before him, were photographs of Senator Wallace and Van Vandervelt, both with big Xs drawn through them. “Just a sec, I’ll zoom out for you. There you go.” Now Heller could see the whole page. There were at least twenty photographs, many of faces Heller knew or recognized from the news.

ACT NOW!!!

These men and women are all part of the vast right-wing conspiracy that is eating away at the heart of our democracy, with their constant attacks on civil liberties and any federal spending programs that help people instead of the rich. It’s time right-thinking people stood up to them and held them accountable for the destruction they have and are causing. Each of them is now a legitimate target for the wrath of any American with the guts to do the right thing. ACT NOW!!!

“Holy shit!” the director of the FBI said.

“You told me not to use that word,” Jimmy said.