“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.
15
HELLER WENT INTO the president’s national security briefing with a confidence he had never before felt. He set his briefcase down beside his chair, sat back, and listened to the presentations of the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the director of Central Intelligence, and the national security advisor.
“Jim?” the president said finally. “You’re awfully quiet this morning. Do you have anything for us?”
“Yes, I do, Mr. President,” Heller replied, setting his briefcase on his lap and opening it. He handed copies of the documents to the president and the others.
“What’s this?” the president asked.
“It’s a website run by the murderer of Senator Wallace and Van Vandervelt. As you can see, he’s marked off those two, but there are a lot of other candidates whose photographs are displayed.”
“Good God,” Will Lee said. “You think he plans to kill everybody whose picture is here?”
“I think that we have to consider that a possibility,” Heller replied.
“Can you trace this website back to its source?”
“I have a tech consultant working on that right now.” Heller replied. He had told his son he could stay home from school that day.
“I’ll get the NSA working on it, too,” Kate said. “They’ve got more computer firepower than any of US.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Kate,” Heller said. “We’ll run this down.”
“I want everybody who can help with this working on it,” the president said, “and the NSA seems like a very good idea.”
Heller flushed a little. The president was obviously covering his ass with his wife. “As you wish, Mr. President.”
“Jim, I’m sure it has occurred to you that the existence of this website could benefit us.”
“How do you mean, Mr. President?”
“Well, first of all, it gives us a possible opportunity to locate the killer. You got that, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Heller said, reddening even more.
“And second, it gives us a list of possible targets, if he should strike again. I mean, the speaker of the House is on this list, for God’s sake!”
“Yes, sir, I understand that.”
“Well, you’re going to have to arrange some protection for these people, aren’t you?”
“Protection?”
“Jim, the killer has given you a list of people he wants to kill. If you fail to protect them and more are killed, well, the public is going to want your head. Not to mention the Congress.”
Heller gulped.
“I’ll speak to the head of the Secret Service about getting you some help. I want the two of you to coordinate personal protection for everyone on this list.”
“Yes, Mr. President. I’ll speak to him this morning.”
“And the next time you have new information about these killings, bring along that fellow you told me about-your deputy- what’s his name?”
Heller had to think for a moment. “Kinney, sir?”
“Yes, Robert Kinney. I want to meet the man.”
“Well, sir, he’s pretty busy right now.”
The president took off his reading glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’ll try not to take up too much of his time, Jim.”
“Yes, sir.”