Michael Harvey - We All Fall Down

“Why?”

“The gun.”

I slid my piece across the floor. Doll put it in his pocket along with Molly’s.

“You ever heard of something called the Dweller, Kelly?”

“Does it have anything to do with Robert Crane?”

Doll pointed to a chair. “Sit.”

I did. Doll took a chair across from me.

“I didn’t understand why they sent Crane after you either. Then they told me about the Dweller.” Doll nodded toward the cot. “You want to explain the rest?”

Molly took her time getting up. I could hear the wheeze in her breathing as she walked over to a workstation and typed in a command. One of the monitors came to life with an annotated map of northern California. A second filled up with colored strings of DNA code. The word DWELLER was displayed at the top of the screen.

“Jon and I realized our company might need additional protection someday. Maybe not this soon, but someday. So four months ago, we infected almost a quarter million people in the Bay Area with a biological weapon. We call it the Dweller.”

I glanced at Doll, whose gun stared a hole right through me. Molly’s voice staggered on.

“It’s a stealth virus. No one gets sick unless and until it’s activated. Then the host dies within two days.”

“I don’t believe it,” I said.

“We’ve given Washington a piece of the Dweller’s genetic code. They’ve examined it, and they believe. They can’t afford not to.”

I turned to Doll. “So she’s blackmailing you?”

“Stoddard approached my boss when you started getting close. Told him CDA was responsible for the Chicago outbreak and why. Then he told my boss about the Dweller. And insisted you be taken care of.”

Molly hit a few more keys, and the two screens went blank. “I love my country, Michael.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I could sell my toys to the highest bidder. And there’d be plenty. But I don’t.”

“You’re a real patriot.” I took a step.

“That’s enough.” Doll moved to the middle of the room, where he could cover both of us with his gun.“We need to get you out of here, Ms. Carrolton.” He began to herd Molly toward the door.

“You won’t get her back,” I said.

Molly stopped. “Won’t get who back?”

“Ellen’s gonna know the truth about her sister.”

Molly’s features froze. For a moment, I thought they might crack and crumble right off her face. Then she turned to Doll. “What happens to him?”

“That’s not your concern, ma’am.” Doll nodded toward the door. “We need to get you out of here. Now.”

Molly looked like she might fight it. Then she erupted in a fit of coughing. Doll led her out, the door locking behind them. Five minutes later, the man from Homeland returned. He still had his gun out.

“Now what the fuck am I going to do with you?”

I stood at the back of Holy Name Cathedral and watched the great people sort themselves out for the morning service. Pecking order was everything. No one knew that better than Mayor John Julius Wilson. If the president had shown up, Wilson would have given up pole position in the first pew. As it was, Wilson parked himself on the aisle, the vice president directly to his left. Cameras were lined up just to the right of the altar. Far enough back so they didn’t ruin the networks’ wide shot but close enough to catch the mayor beating his breast, fingering his rosary, and squeezing out another tear.

I pulled the Trib from under my arm. If sorrow was its morning coat, the city’s feet remained firmly planted in the muck and mire of rumor and suspicion. Some recent headlines:

ANOTHER ATTACK IMMINENT: MUTANT FORM OF PATHOGEN SEEN IN CITY’S HOSPITALS COOK COUNTY PUTS IN EMERGENCY ORDER FOR 100,000 NBC SUITS REPUBLICANS BEHIND RELEASE; SEEK TO ELECT A NEW PRESIDENT

And then there was today’s missive-a page one article on stealth viruses. How they worked. What they could do. Why we should be concerned. I didn’t know how many people knew about Molly Carrolton. Or her threats. But it only took one to light the fuse.

“How many lives you think you got?”

I turned. Vince Rodriguez stood just inside Holy Name’s main doors, fresh sunlight spilling around his shoulders.

“Me? Enemies?”

Rodriguez pulled close and tapped me on the chest. “I told you not to trust that prick.”

The detective was right. James Doll had been adamant that I needed to join Jon Stoddard, stretched and cold on the floor of CDA Labs. Then I showed him the cell phone pictures I’d taken inside the quarantine zone. Red paint, nailed-up windows, and dead bodies. Doll wasn’t impressed, so I took out the flash drive Ellen Brazile had given me. The one with a covert recording of the meeting where Doll and his pals in Washington had laid out various alternatives for controlling an infected population-including four different ways to burn down K Town. Doll might have been able to explain away my pictures, but there was no escaping his own words, played back in stereo. A few phone calls later, I was deemed an “acceptable risk.” At least for now.

“How did it go with Theresa’s family?” I said.

Theresa Jackson’s remains had been cremated along with the rest.

“All she had was a sister,” Rodriguez said. “Didn’t seem much interested.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll keep her ashes.”

My friend’s eyes smoldered for a moment, then dulled. Above us, an organ swelled with music and a choir began to sing. When they were finished, the cardinal took the pulpit and started blessing things. Rodriguez nudged me. We walked through the massive bronze doors and into a blast of morning sunshine.

“Where’s Rita?” I said.

“Where’s Rita? Pissed off is where Rita is. She knows everything and can report none of it.”

“At least she’s alive.”

“I’ll make sure to pass that along.” Rodriguez slipped on a pair of shades and took a seat on the cathedral steps. I joined him.

“I’ll make it up to her,” I said.

“How you gonna make it up to me?”

There had never been any ballistics match from Rodriguez. Rita Alvarez had never uncovered a “money angle” worth pursuing. I’d put them through their paces in my office to make Molly Carrolton feel like she was on the inside-part of the investigation. Once she offered up a DNA match to Gilmore, there’d been only one lead to follow. Everything and everyone else became a smoke screen. A means to an end.

“You don’t like being a decoy?” I said.

“How about I don’t like supplying bangers with product?”

“Fours got a new king.”

“Marcus Robinson? He won’t last the summer.”

I shrugged. “Either way, maybe I can help.”

Rodriguez grunted and stared down the block. Police had cordoned off State and Superior with blue police barriers. Beyond that, a crowd had formed, waiting for a glimpse of someone halfway famous. A woman took our picture and waved. I waved back.

“Who was that?” Rodriguez said.

“Nobody. She just waved.”

“Fucking celebrities now.”

Holy Name’s front doors swung open and the church began to empty. Rodriguez and I moved to one side. I was half watching the faces, wondering why I’d come to this at all, when I got a nudge in the ribs. I looked at Rodriguez, then followed his eyes. Molly Carrolton floated past, hidden by a large black hat and buried in a cluster of suits. I felt for the gun that wasn’t on my hip. She turned, her eyes taking me in without absorbing a bit of it. Then she threw me back onto the cathedral’s steps and stepped right over me. Into a limo and was gone.

“Guess there’s not gonna be much of a trial,” Rodriguez said.