Jonathan Kellerman - The Web

"And you want us to believe it's the only reason he let you live all these years."

He thumbed his chest and smiled. "I'm here, am I not?"

"I think there's more, Bill. I think Hoffman's always known you wouldn't expose him because he's got something on you. "

The smile evaporated. He took a step up the ramp and ran his hand over the rough stone wall.

"My guess is the two of you are locked together," I went on. "Like rams, with tangled horns. Hoffman can't move in and destroy Aruk overnight because you might expose him. But he's still able to grind the island down gradually because he's younger than you, confident he'll survive you and eventually have his way. And I'll bet controlling Aruk's important to him on two levels: the money from the development project, and he wants to erase what he did thirty years ago from his mind."

"No, no, you're giving him way too much credit. He's got no conscience. He simply wants to exploit for profit." He turned around suddenly. "You have no idea what he has in mind for Aruk."

"A penal colony like Devil's Island?"

His mouth stayed open and he managed to work it into another smile. "Very good. How did you figure it out?"

"He's in with Stasher-Layman, and in addition to instant slums they build prisons. Aruk's location is perfect. The dregs of society shipped and warehoused far, far away, with nowhere to escape."

"Very good," he repeated. "Very, very good. The bastard told me the details that night at dinner. He wants to call it "Paradise Island.' Clever, eh? But there's more: the waters surrounding Aruk will be used to sink other dregs: barrels of radioactive waste. He's confident of receiving environmental clearance because of Aruk's obscurity and because once the economy shuts down completely and the island's depopulated, there'll be no one to protest."

"Nuclear dumpsite," I said. "Perfect complement to the prison: toxic water's another escape deterrent. If Hoffman pulls it off, he manages to fight crime and pollution on the mainland and pocket big cash payoffs from Stasher-Layman. Cute."

"Cute' is not an adjective I'd apply to him."

Different music drifted from the game room. A woman singing, This old man, he plays two…

"When did you first suspect he was involved?"

"When the Navy started treating us differently. Ewing's predecessor was no saint but he was civil. Ewing has the demeanor of an assassin- did you know he was sent here as punishment for lewd behavior? Tied a woman down and took photographs… From the moment I met him, I knew he'd been sent to punish Aruk. And that Hoffman had to be behind it. Who else even knew about the place? I wrote to him, he never answered. Then Ben caught Creedman snooping in my files and I asked Al Landau to do some research. He learned the skunk had worked for Stasher-Layman and what they were all about. But I had no idea it was a dumpsite till Hoffman bragged about it after dinner. Apologizing for not answering, he'd been so busy. Then that same smile. "

"Were your letters threatening?" I said.

"Poo! Give me credit, son. I was discreet. Nuances, not threats."

"Nuances that he ignored."

"He said he hadn't wanted to put anything in writing. That's why he'd come personally."

"Why'd he invite all of us to dinner?"

"For cover. But you notice that he got me alone. That's when he boasted and made his offer."

"To buy you out?"

"At a laughable price. I refused and reminded him of my little diary."

"What did he say?"

"He simply smiled."

"If he's worried about the diary, why can't you get him to stop the project?"

"I- we negotiated. He pointed out that stopping completely would be impractical. Things have gone too far. To reverse what's already been done would call attention to Aruk."

"And you agreed to consider it because of the kids."

"Exactly! Though the bastard thinks it's my own lifestyle I don't want jeopardized." He grimaced. "You're right, he and I are stalemated: he doesn't want publicity and neither do I. My only goal is to let my kids live out their lives in peace- how long do they really have? Five years, maybe six or seven. Hoffman's project will take years to complete even under the best of circumstances- you know the government. So, hopefully, he and I can achieve some sort of compromise. I'll sell off token bits of land to the government, take my time, delay things without seeming unduly obdurate."

"The Trading Post, and your other waterfront holdings."

He nodded. "And the money will be set aside for you two."

"A compromise," I said. "As you both let Aruk die."

He sighed. "Aruk's been good to me, but I'm an old man and I know my limitations. Priorities must be set. What I've demanded from Hoffman was to slow things down. "

"Did he agree?"

"He didn't refuse."

"The man cold-bloodedly murdered six dozen people. Why would he give in to you?"

"Because of my insurance."

"I still don't understand why, if you can ruin him, you don't have more power."

He scratched the tip of his nose. "I've told you everything, son."

He reached out to pat my shoulder and I backed away.

"No, I don't think so," I said. "When you returned from talking to him you looked shell-shocked. Not like someone who'd negotiated a compromise. Hoffman reminded you about something, didn't he?"

No answer.

"What's he holding over you, Bill?"

He stepped further into the ramp.

"First things first," he said. "My offer."

"First answer my question?"

"These things are irrelevant!"

"Honesty's irrelevant? Oh, I forgot, the truth is relative."

"Truth is justice ! Getting into irrelevant areas that bring about injustice is deceitful !"

This old man, he plays ten…

"All right," I said. "You're entitled to your privacy."

I looked at Robin. She cocked her head very slightly, toward the cavern.

"Goodbye, Bill."

He held me back. "Please! Everything in due time! Please be patient!"

His crinkled chin shook so hard his teeth knocked. "I'll tell you everything when the time's right, but first I must have your commitment. I believe I've earned it! What I'm offering you would enrich your lives!"

"We can't give you an answer just like that."

He climbed further up the ramp. "Meaning you think I'm mad and your answer is no."

"Let's get back and clear our heads. You, too. Pam needs to know you're safe."

"No, no, this isn't right, son. Leaving an old man in the lurch after I've… flayed my soul open for you!"

"I'm sorry-"

He clutched my arm. " Why not just agree? You're young, robust, so many years ahead of you! Think of what you can do with all that wealth." His eyes brightened. "Perhaps you could figure out a way to save Aruk! Think of the meaning that would bring to your lives! What else is there to life but finding some kind of meaning?"

I removed his fingers from my arm. The record in the game room had caught. The old man playing ten, over and over…

"I was wrong," he said, behind me. "You're not the compassionate boy I thought you were."

"I'm not a boy," I said. "And I'm not your son."

The retort bursting out of me, the same way it had out of Dennis Laurent.

The look on his face… I felt like a bad son.

A maddening man.

Mad or on the brink of it.

"No, you're not," he whispered. "Indeed, you're not."

Robin took my hand and we both left the ramp. Moreland watched us, not budging.

After we'd gone a few steps, he turned his back on us.

Robin stopped, tears in her eyes.

"Bill," she said, just as sound came from the top of the ramp.

Moreland looked and almost lost his balance.