Oath of Office

CHAPTER 38

“Martin absolutely deplores Russell Evans for humiliating him at a time when the polls have him at an all-time low. Russ’s father was a farmer like my dad, but Russ got a master’s degree and ended up going into academics. I always felt close to him. He and I are mutually interested in kids’ nutrition. Martin has forbidden me even to mention his name.”

“That’s got to be hard,” Lou said.

Walking slowly through the dense night, the two physicians shared information along with bits about each other’s lives. Their conversation was easy and animated except for Lou’s account of the almost-certain death of Anthony Brite, which was obviously painful for her to hear. After a while, it was as if he and Darlene Mallory had been longtime friends. Still, the tension that had brought them together was never far from the surface.

Lou sensed another feeling building inside him as well-the excitement of merely being close to her.

“Assuming those killers are connected with Russ Evans and Double M,” she said, “Anthony’s death only underscores the importance of our figuring out what’s going on.”

According to Double M, she went on, Gretchen Rose, whose name the president had submitted to Congress as Evans’s successor, had strong views on states’ rights and limitation of federal involvement in setting agriculture policy. Evans was close to her polar opposite.

“And that horrible tape?” Lou asked.

“Martin is quite the skeptic, and is already extremely prejudiced against Russ. I needed to find the girl on that recording to convince him that someone was manipulating his administration. Sadly, that’s not going to happen now. But Double M has another plan-something that he’s asked me to make happen. That’s where you come in.”

“Tell me.”

Darlene tucked her hands into the pockets of her Windbreaker. “It’s all about corn,” she said.

“That’s about as far as I had gotten in Kings Ridge,” Lou replied, “before the well ran dry. I feel like the six blind men each trying to describe an elephant.”

He described the findings that led him, Cap, and George to refer to William Chester’s crop as Frankencorn.

“Double M has never mentioned anything about this to me until today,” Darlene said, “but he called and said that rather than try to get Russ Evans reinstated when the president won’t even allow his name to be spoken, I should concentrate on stopping a shipment of corn that’s loaded on a cargo train scheduled to head west. I don’t know who supplied this corn, or precisely where it’s going or when, but I’ve been told that this shipment must be stopped.”

“Darlene,” Lou said, “is there any way, any way at all, that you can tell me something about this man that would help to figure out who he is? It may be very important.”

Darlene sighed deeply. “I’ve met him, but it was pretty dark, and he had on glasses with heavy black frames and a baseball cap-a Nationals cap, I think. He spoke to me using an electrolarynx, even though there was nothing that I could see wrong with his neck.”

“Probably just distorting his voice,” Lou said. “Go on, please.”

“Well, he’s a big man-probably taller than you.”

“I’m almost six-one when I don’t slouch.”

“Okay, six-one and a little on the husky side. He had a full beard, but I thought it might be fake. I promised I wouldn’t push him to tell me who he was. He said he would be in great danger if his identity became known.”

“I won’t ask again. He wants the corn shipment stopped by the president? What could be wrong with it?”

“I don’t know,” Darlene said. “According to Double M, you might have the answer to that.”

“Me? I don’t know anything about any shipments.”

“No, but Double M says you know a lot about the residents of Kings Ridge exhibiting very strange behavior. Apparently he believes there’s a connection.”

Lou flipped through the people he had spoken to since Meacham’s killing spree, focusing on those who were above average height and husky-Gilbert Stone, employees at DeLand Regional, members of the police department, farmers he had met at the Grange Hall-where he also posted a notice asking for any information surrounding shootings in the Chester Enterprises fields, or any stories of severe lapses in reason or judgment. Then there were the politicians he had yet to meet, and others who might have feelings pro or con regarding Russell Evans. The list was already daunting. In fact, Lou realized, Double M could easily be an actor hired by Russ Evans, and the tape could be bogus.

Lou stopped as though he had just walked into a wall. “Hey, what if it’s the corn itself?” he asked.

“The corn?”

“The Frankencorn. What if it’s somehow toxic for people?”

“Meaning that this shipment of corn and John Meacham are connected?”

“Well, I didn’t think the killings had anything to do with corn until just now,” Lou said. “But I can see the possibility.” Then he related what he had observed about the corn-the unusual size and growth. “When we spoke with William Chester, he tried to convince us that the corn was just the by-product of a new type of fertilizer Chester Enterprises is patenting.”

“Genetically modified organism,” Darlene whispered. “So, do you think that Double M works for William Chester?”

“I don’t know,” Lou said. “There could be hundreds of corn shipments headed west.”

“Even if we narrow it down to a specific company, Double M is concerned about only one specific cargo train filled with corn.”

“So where does that leave us?” Lou asked. He realized he was intentionally avoiding too much eye contact with the woman, fearing she would feel, correctly, that he was staring.

“My instructions were to get you and Martin together. I guess Double M wants you to tell Martin what you’ve just told me.”

“Why? If Double M’s not going to tell us which train we’ve got to stop, what good will that do?”

“Maybe he’ll give us that information after you talk to Martin,” Darlene offered.

“Maybe. From what you’ve told me about your husband, I don’t think he’s going to do anything without demanding to know who Double M is.”

“If that’s the case, I will tell Martin what I know. I certainly understand there may be lives at stake, but I can’t begin to tell you the measures this man has taken to keep his identity a secret. Martin’s out of town right now. There’s no way I can get you a meeting with him until he gets back. Lou, if it is the corn, how do you think it’s affecting people?”

Lou shook his head. “I just don’t feel like I know enough, unless…”

“Go on, please.”

“From what we could tell, there are hundreds, probably thousands of acres of that GMO corn growing in Kings Ridge.”

“And?”

“And what if the problem is something airborne,” he said.

“Pollen?”

“Sure,” Lou said, “pollen! The tassels on the ears produce pollen that gets dispersed by the wind.”

“Airborne! That’s how people could be getting exposed. They could be inhaling the pollen and be allergic to it.”

“That would certainly explain some things I haven’t been able to understand.”

“Explain what things?” Darlene asked.

“The termites.”

Lou glanced back to ensure that his sudden enthusiasm hadn’t brought Victor any closer.

“Termites?” Darlene echoed. “What on earth do-?”

Lou put one foot up on a bench, leaned on his knee, and recounted the astounding setup at Joey Alderson’s small apartment, and the piranha-like efficiency with which his termites had totally dispatched a mouse.

Darlene listened wide-eyed, occasionally brushing her hands down the length of her arms, as though the termites Lou was describing were crawling there.

As he expected, Darlene gleaned the significance of the tale immediately. “You think this airborne toxin causes mutation in the insects?” Darlene asked.

“I think along with a number of other questions, it’s one worth answering.”

“And how do you propose to go about doing that?”

“Dr. Oliver Humphries,” Lou said.

“Who?”

“One of the world’s leading experts on termites. My smartphone and I are sort of joined at the hip. I found him while I was Googling ‘flesh-eating termites’ after my visit to Joey’s. I certainly hadn’t connected the little beasties to corn, but I was running out of paths to follow in investigating John Meacham’s rampage.”

“So you had already planned to speak with this bug man about these termites?”

“Yes. I have an appointment with him the day after tomorrow. Now I have more questions to ask him, such as whether some sort of airborne mutagen might be at work.”

“And if perhaps the effect on people is different from that on the termites, but caused by the pollen nonetheless,” she said with new excitement. “Where is he based?”

“He teaches entomology at Temple University in Philly.”

Darlene turned and beckoned Victor over. An exchange Lou could not hear followed, with Victor doing a lot of head nodding and Darlene a lot of talking. Victor ended the conversation with another quick nod, then retreated back to where he was. Darlene returned to Lou’s side.

“So,” Lou said, “did you tell him I was delusional and needed to be closely watched?”

Darlene smiled. “No, I don’t think you’re delusional at all. What I told Victor was to make arrangements.”

“Arrangements for what?”

“I’ve decided that we’re going to speak with your Dr. Humphries together.”