case.”
That gets De Luca’s attention. “Are you officially telling me that the national security of the United States is threatened by the jury reaching a verdict in this trial?’
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. But I am saying there are serious connections between this case and matters of national security.”
De Luca considers this for a few moments, and then says, “Okay, gentlemen. Here’s where I come out on this. Basically the information before me has not changed. What I am being told is that the FBI thinks Mr. Galloway is innocent.”
Mulcahy nods. “We do, Your Honor.”
“However, the reason this trial ever started, the reason Mr. Galloway was arrested in the first place, was because the FBI conducted an investigation and came to the conclusion he was guilty.”
“The facts have changed,” I point out.
De Luca nods. “Maybe, or maybe just the interpretation of those facts have changed. In any event, even though the FBI originally thought Mr. Galloway was guilty, our system decided in its infinite wisdom not to just accept that and convict him. It decided a jury was better equipped to make that decision.”
This is heading south.
De Luca continues. “I’m going to side with the system, gentlemen, and let the jury make the call, without interruption.”
The FBI lawyer starts packing up his briefcase. He couldn’t have cared less which way De Luca was going to rule; it was simply his job to present the case and get out. Mulcahy looks at me with some sympathy; I think he wanted the right thing to happen here, and he knows it didn’t.
Dylan hasn’t said a word since “good afternoon,” but I think he’s never been more eloquent.
I leave the court, having accomplished absolutely nothing. The only way the visit could have been worse was if I was there to hear the verdict.
When I leave I call Laurie, who sounds like she’s had a worse day than I have.
“We’ve accomplished absolutely nothing,” she says.
“Join the club,” I say, and then update her on the meeting with De Luca.
After that’s over, she says, “There’s a lot of land out here, Andy, especially since we have no real idea where to look, or what we’re looking for.”
“And you’re asking people that you see?”
“When we can find any. But of course they have no idea what we’re talking about, because we have no idea what we’re talking about. And that’s not the worst part.”
She hesitates for a moment, then. “Hike.” Another pause. “He’s driving me crazy.”
I’m glad she can’t see me smiling. Whenever I complain about Hike, she defends him and tells me I’m too hard on him. Now that she’s spent time with him alone, it appears that the depressing tide has turned.
“Really? Hike?” I ask.
“Yes. I’m with Hike, and Marcus is with Sam. Everywhere we go the land is dry and desolate, and Hike says it reminds him of the Dust Bowl during the Great Depression.”
“Interesting historical reference,” I say.
“Andy, Hike thinks of the Great Depression as the good old days. He says we’re heading for much worse, that the way things are going, the United States is soon going to consist of two things, Wall Street and dust.”
I try to stifle a laugh, but can’t quite do so.
“Andy…”
“I’m sorry. Where is he now?”
“In a diner, possibly using the bathroom.”
“Why possibly?”
“It’s our fourth try. The last three weren’t sanitary enough. He said something about dysentery, and lizards, or something. I’m losing track.”
“What are you and Hike doing tomorrow?” I ask.
“We’re going to drive around for a while, and then I’m going to strangle him and bury his body.”
I’ve got nothing to do and nowhere to go.
I’d like to be in Texas with Laurie and the team, but I need to be here in case the jury has a question or, God forbid, a verdict. What I really should have done was keep Hike here, and gone down there in his place. I think Laurie would have been in favor of that.
So I’m tied to the phone, hoping Laurie will call with good news, and hoping the court will not call with bad news. Instead nobody calls, with the exception of Willie Miller, asking me if I’d read his book when it’s finished, which is apparently going to be any day.
“You think I need to read it?” he asks.
“No, you already know the ending.”
“Cool.”
I head down to the jail to see Noah and brief him on what’s going on. I’ve been a little lax in doing so, and he wasn’t even aware that the meeting was taking place between the FBI and Judge De Luca.
Before I even relate the story, I tell him that the outcome was not positive. I don’t want him to get his hopes up, even for a few minutes. He’s the one with his freedom on the line, not me, and he needs to know the straight scoop.
“Becky thinks the jury is going to say I’m not guilty,” he says. “At least that’s what she tells me.”
“Needless to say, I hope she’s right.”
“But you don’t think she is.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t. But I do think it’s a good sign that they haven’t come back yet. Maybe we’ve got some holdouts on our side.”
“Maybe.”
“Noah, if you get convicted, it’s not over. I really mean that; we’ve got a lot going for us. This thing hasn’t played out yet.”
I don’t think he believes me, and I can’t say I blame him. I tell him that I’ll let him know if anything happens, and I leave to go home.
I’ll take Tara and Bailey for a walk, and then I’ll look through the case files again, just in case I’ve missed something the other four hundred times I’ve read them.
But basically I’ll do nothing.
Deep under the ground, the eight men were finished with their work.
The canisters had been taken up the elaborate system of pulleys, and loaded onto a waiting truck. It was the culmination of years of work, done in secret.
The men had been chosen well. They were extraordinary workers, loners without family or close friends. They could be trusted to keep the confidentiality of the mission, and would basically do anything for money. Investigators had been tracking them, without their knowledge, and all were judged to have kept silent.
They were, of course, very well paid, but what really motivated them was the promise of a huge bonus when the work was completed.
They had just gotten an apparently sincere thank-you speech from a man they had never met before, but who seemed as if he was in charge of the entire operation. More importantly, they had just received their bonus checks, and were delighted to see that each was twenty-five percent higher than promised.
The man also thanked them for their having kept the secret for so long, and impressed upon them the importance of continuing to do so. He also made a surprise promise that if, in five years, the operation was still a secret, each man in the group would receive another check.
Were any of them to move, the man gave them a number to contact, to inform him of their new address and contact information. That was to enable him to forward that supplementary bonus, but also to make it possible for them to be reached should another job like this one come up.
And with the kind of money that they’d earned, another job like this one would be very welcome.
The man went around and shook each of their hands, offering personal thanks. He then went up the pulley to the truck, asking them to wait at least a half hour to leave, and then to leave one at a time, so as not to call attention to themselves, should anyone be around.
