position. But I won't tell you where the women are if I don't get my pardon. And, believe me, every minute counts. Those women are mighty hungry and mighty thirsty by now. I can't guarantee how much longer they'll last without food and water.'
Colby sat on the bed across from Lake. He bent forward, his forearms resting on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him.
'I do consider myself your friend, Pete. I still can't believe what I'm hearing. As a friend, I beg you to save those women. I promise I'll intercede on your behalf with the authorities. Maybe a plea to manslaughter can be worked out.'
Lake shook his head. 'No prison. Not one day. I know what happens in jail to a man who's raped a woman. I wouldn't last a week.'
'You're expecting a miracle, Pete. How can I let you go free?' 'look, Ray, I'll make this simple for you. I walk or the women die. There's no other alternative, and you're using up valuable time jawing with me.'
Colby hunched his shoulders. He stared at the floor.
Lake's smile widened.
'What are your terms?' Colby asked.
'I want a pardon for every crime I committed in New York State and immunity from prosecution for every conceivable crime the authorities can think up in the future. I want the pardon in writing and I want a videotape of you signing it. I want the original of the tape and the pardon given to a lawyer I'll choose.
'I want immunity from prosecution in federal court…'
'I can't guarantee that. I have no authority to 'Call the U.S. attorney or the attorney general. Call the President. This is non-negotiable. I'm not going to get hit with a federal charge for violation of civil rights.'
'I'll see what I can do.'
'That's all I ask. But if you don't do what I want, the women die.
'There's one other thing. I want a guarantee that the State of New York will pay any civil judgments if I get sued by the survivors or Cross's husband. I'm not going to lose any money over this. Attorney fees, too.'
Lake's last remark helped the governor see Lake for what he was. The handsome, urbane young man with whom he had dined and played golf was the disguise worn by a monster. Colby felt rage replacing the numbness he'd experienced since learning Lake's true nature.
Colby stood. 'I have to know how much time those women have, so I can tell the attorney general how quickly we must act.'
'I'm not going to tell you, Ray. You're not getting any information from me until I have what I want. But,' Lake said with a smile, 'I will tell you to hurry.'
The police cars and ambulances bounced along the unpaved back road, their sirens blaring in hopes that the captive women would hear them and take heart. There were three ambulances, each with a team of doctors and Larry Merrill were riding nurses. Governor Colby and with Chief O'Malley and Wayne Turner. Frank Grimsbo was driving another police car Nancy Gordon riding shotgun. In the back of that car was Herb Carstairs, an attorney Lake had retained. A videotape of Governor Colby signing a pardon and a copy of the pardon with an addendum signed by the United States attorney rested in Carstairs's safe. Next to Carstairs, in leg irons and handcuffs, sat Peter Lake, who seemed indifferent to the high speed ride.
The cavalcade rounded a curve in the country road and Nancy saw the farmhouse. it looked deserted. The front yard was overgrown and the paint was peeling. To the right of the house, across a dusty strip of yard, was a dilapidated barn.
Nancy was out and running as soon as the car stopped. She raced up the steps of the house and kicked in the front door. Medics and doctors raced after her.
Lake had said the women were in the basement. Nancy found the basement door and threw it open. A stench of urine, excrement and unwashed bodies hit her and she gagged. Then she took a deep breath and yelled, 'Police.
You're safe,' as she started down the stairs, two at a time, stopping her headlong rush the moment she saw what was in the basement.
Nancy felt like someone had punched a hole through her chest and torn out her heart. Later it occurred to her that her reaction must have been similar to the reactions of the servicemen who liberated the Nazi concentration camps. The basement windows were painted black and the only light came from bare bulbs that hung from the ceiling. A section of the basement was divided by plywood walls into six small stalls. Three of the stalls were empty. All of the stalls were covered with straw and outfitted with dirty mattresses. A videotape camera sat on a tripod outside each of the three occupied stalls. In addition to the mattress, each stall contained a cheap clock, a plastic water bottle with a plastic straw, and a dog food dish. The water bottles looked empty.
Nancy could see the remains of some kind of gruel in the dishes.
Toward the rear of the basement was an open area.
In it was a mattress covered with a sheet and a large table. Nancy could not make out all of the instruments on the table, but one of them was definitely a cattle prod.
Nancy stepped aside as the doctors rushed past her.
She stared at the three survivors. The women were naked. Their feet were chained to the wall at the ankles.
The chain extended just far enough to reach the water bottle and dog food dish. The women in the first two stalls lay on their side on their mattress. Their eyes seemed to be floating in the sockets. Nancy could see their ribs. There were burn marks and bruises everywhere. The woman in the third stall was Samantha Reardon. She huddled against the wall, her face expressionless, staring blankly at her rescuers.
Nancy walked slowly to the bottom of the stairs.
She recognized Ann Hazelton only from her red hair.
Her legs were drawn up to her chest in a fetal position and she was whimpering pitifully. Ann's husband had furnished a photograph of her standing on the eighteenth hole of their country club golf course, a smile on her face and a yellow ribbon holding back her long red hair.
Gloria Escalante was in the second stall. There was no expression on her face, but Nancy saw tears in her eyes as a doctor bent next to her to check her vital signs and a policeman went to work on her shackles.
Nancy began to shake. Wayne Turner walked up behind her and put his hands on her arms.
'Come on,' he said gently, 'we're just in the way.'
Nancy let herself be led up the stairs into the light.
Governor Colby had glanced into the basement for a moment, then backed out of the farmhouse into the fresh air.
His skin was gray and he was sitting on one of the steps that led up to the porch, looking like he did not have the strength to stand.
Nancy looked across the yard. She spotted the car holding Lake. Frank Grimsbo was standing guard outside it. Lake's attorney had wandered off to smoke. Nancy walked past the governor. He asked her if the women were all right, but she did not answer. Wayne Turner walked beside her.' Let it be, Nancy,' he said. Nancy ignored him.
Frank Grimsl)o looked up expectantly. 'They're all alive,' Turner said.
Nancy bent down and looked at Lake.
The back window was open a crack, so the prisoner could breathe in the stifling heat. Lake turned toward Nancy.
He was rested and at peace, knowing he would soon be free.
Lake smirked, goading her with his eyes but saying nothing. If he expected Nancy to rage at him, he was mistaken. Her face was blank, but her eyes bored into Lake. 'It's not over,' she said. Then she stood up and walked toward a stand of trees on the side of the house away from the barn. With her back to the farmhouse, all she could see was beauty.
There was cool shade the greenery. The smell of grass and wildflowers. A bird sang. The horror Nancy felt when she saw the captive women was gone. Her anger was gone. She knew the future and was not afraid of it.
No woman would ever have to fear Peter Lake again, because Peter Lake was a dead man.
Nancy Gordon wore a black jogging outfit, her white Nikes were coated with black shoe polish, and her short hair was held back by a navy blue head band, making her impossible to see in the dim light of the moon that hung
