“In 1985 a task force was formed, composed of members of the Oregon State Police and the FBI,” Williams continued. “When a search warrant was executed, a sample of bacteria matching the contaminant that had sickened the town residents was found in a Rajneeshpuram medical laboratory. Two commune officials were indicted. Both served time in a minimum-security federal prison.”
Williams looked pointedly at me. “A third disappeared.”
“Eli Hand,” I guessed.
Williams nodded.
“Hand was a twenty-year-old chemistry major at Oregon State University. In the spring of 1984 he fell under the influence of the bhagwan, dropped out of school, and moved to Rajneeshpuram.”
“Just months before the salad bars were spiked.”
“Hand was suspected of having helped orchestrate the poisonings. Following the bhagwan’s arrest and deportation, Hand left the commune.”
“And came east?”
“Yes. Convinced his spiritual master had been persecuted, Hand grew increasingly disillusioned with the government. He spent time in western Carolina, eventually joined a group of right-wingers called the Freedom Brigade. When that fell apart, he drifted to the Charlotte area, in time hooked up with J. D. Danner.”
“And his Patriot Posse.”
“Yes.”
“So the FBI had Hand under surveillance?” Larabee asked.
“We were tracking a lot of people back then. Intel had it that Hand and his buddies hid Eric Rudolph for a while.”
“Where is he now?” I knew the answer to that.
“Hand slipped off the grid in 2000.”
“You never found him again,” I said.
“No.”
“But now you have.”
Williams gave a tight nod. “An odontologist says it’s a match.”
That surprised me. “You found dental antemorts?”
“Hand’s mother still lives in Portland. Eli had an orthodontic evaluation when he was twelve. She still had the plaster casts and X-rays. The odont said it was enough for a positive.”
“Hand’s prints weren’t in the system?” Larabee asked.
“He’d never been arrested, served in the military, or held a job that required a security clearance.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “The FBI suspected Hand and the Patriot Posse were planning a bioterrorist attack like the one in Oregon, this time with ricin.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you were treading eggshells back in 1998.”
“We couldn’t risk setting them off.”
“But it never happened.”
“No.”
“How would Hand get hold of ricin?” Larabee asked.
“We think he may have been producing the toxin himself.”
“
“Easily.”
We all thought about that.
“So how did Hand end up in a barrel of asphalt?” I voiced the question in everyone’s mind.
“Accidentally poisoned himself? Fell on his head? Got taken out by his pals? We honestly don’t know.”
“What happened to Cale Lovette and Cindi Gamble?” I asked.
“Same answer.”
“Was either of them working inside for the bureau?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Uh-huh.”
I held Williams’s eyes with mine. He didn’t blink.
The small office filled with tense silence. When Williams broke it, his voice was elevated a microdecibel. It was as excited as I’d seen him.
“The long shot paid off, Dr. Brennan.”
