Джозеф Хеллер - Maximum Impact

“Included in further services to be rendered by Messrs. Bonaro and Stock was the ongoing security of the aforesaid operation. We have reason to believe that among the security services rendered was the murder of Mark Antravanian, another member of the National Transportation Safety Board investigative team. This occurred after Mr. Parkhall learned that Mr. Antravanian arrived at the crash site a number of hours earlier than expected and had witnessed the distribution of the bird remains in the Converse engine. Since murder is not a federal crime, this evidence has been turned over to the proper authorities in the Commonwealth of Virginia. We further believe that Messrs. Bonaro and Stock were responsible for the subsequent deaths of Captain Michael McGill, also a member of the NTSB team, after learning Captain McGill had been contacted by Mr. Antravanian and told of the conspiracy to divert the federal investigation, and of Justin Smith, a reporter in the Washington bureau of The New York Times. And finally, we believe they were the individuals who severely beat Steven Pace, a reporter for the Washington Chronicle, in an incident intended to result in his death. The evidence in those three cases has been turned over to the proper authorities in the District of Columbia.”

It felt strange to Pace to hear his name in that context. Giavanova continued.

“Cullen Ferguson has been named an unindicted coconspirator because he had good and sufficient cause to believe, but did not report to authorities, that the Converse Corporation in general and Mr. Greenwood in particular were attempting to circumvent the mandate of the National Transportation Safety Board and were prepared to manufacture evidence and testimony if it became necessary to protect the financial interests of the company. Mr. Ferguson, however, cooperated with our investigation of this matter and we, in turn, agreed not to seek a conspiracy indictment against him. That about covers the facts of this case—”

Fully sixteen reporters jumped to their feet, shouting questions.

“—and I will attempt to answer questions, but I will not tolerate being shouted at. Remain in your seats, raise your hands, and I will recognize you as equitably as possible.”

Like chastised schoolchildren, the reporters sat down again, and two dozen hands went up.

Giavanova, like most public figures, felt most comfortable dealing with reporters she knew, so she recognized the Youngstown Vindicator representative first.

“Yes, Bill.”

“How did Mr. Greenwood happen to have a personnel file on Elliott Parkhall, and what was its purpose?”

“We have examined a number of Mr. Greenwood’s personal computer files and have determined that he kept very detailed personnel records on scores of aviation experts, including members and staff of the National Transportation Safety Board,” Giavanova said. “The files dwell on what could be considered points of vulnerability among the subjects, matters by which they might be blackmailed or manipulated. The files are very much on the order of those kept on political figures by J. Edgar Hoover when he directed the FBI, and we have reason to believe that’s where Mr. Greenwood came up with the idea for building his own library. How Mr. Greenwood came into possession of such information and whether or how it has been used before are unknown at this time.”

“A follow-up?” the Vindicator reporter asked.

Giavanova nodded.

“Where are those files now?”

“In the possession of the Justice Department.”

“One more follow-up?”

Again Giavanova nodded.

“Was Mr. Parkhall being blackmailed?”

“I think manipulated is the better word, but I’m not prepared to go any further into that at the moment.” She looked to the other side of the room and recognized a local television reporter.

“What was Harold Marshall’s role in all of this?” the reporter asked.

“The fact that the senator has passed away makes moot any prosecution,” Giavanova replied. “We can’t prosecute a dead man. However, I will say that during the course of the investigation, insofar as we have examined Senator Marshall’s role in this matter, we found possible instances of improper behavior but nothing of a federal criminal nature.”

“Can you be specific about the nature of this, uh, improper behavior?”

Giavanova sighed and appeared ambivalent. “That’s not proper subject matter for this forum,” she said hesitantly, “but I will tell you Senator Marshall appears to have had few scruples about how he used his Senate aides.”

“Meaning?” the reporter pressed.

“Well, it appears to be true that he used both Mr. Davis and another aide to pressure a leader of the NTSB investigative team to help Converse. There was nothing illegal about it. No threats were made. No money or favors passed hands. It’s not a matter for criminal investigation so much as a matter for review by the Senate Ethics Committee which, of course, has ended its investigation. It also appears Senator Marshall occasionally gave Mr. Greenwood the use of Mr. Davis for whatever purposes suited the Converse CEO. It certainly would be a violation of Senate rules of conduct for an aide on the Senate payroll to be working concurrently for a private company, but again, that’s out of our jurisdiction.”

“Why did Chapman Davis permit that? What sorts of things did he do for Converse?”

“Again, that’s not my jurisdiction, but from what I understand, there are some criminal matters in Mr. Davis’s background that were being held over his head.”

“Held by whom?”

“By both Senator Marshall and Mr. Greenwood.”

“What types of criminal matters?”

“That’s not relevant, and I don’t want to go into it.” Giavanova started to recognize someone else, but the television reporter got in one last series of questions.

“So Greenwood and Marshall were blackmailing Davis into running this cover-up?”

“We’re charging that Mr. Greenwood did, yes.”

“Not Senator Marshall?”

“We don’t know what the senator’s role was.”

“Did he have any role in the cover-up?” the reporter asked. “What about his money?”

“I have no answer for you on that, Bob,” Giavanova said, frustrated and eager to go on to another line of questioning. “We were pursuing that as the last phase of this grand-jury proceeding, but when the senator died, further investigation on our part was deemed unwarranted, and we went with what we had to that point.” She looked to her left, toward another section of television reporters. “Yes, Ginny.”

A pleasant-looking blond woman in her late twenties rose to her feet. “Are you saying that Senator Marshall has been cleared of wrongdoing or that you stopped looking before you found anything?”

Giavanova shook her head once and smiled. “That’s a loaded question,” she said. “A grand jury does not clear or convict. A grand jury looks for evidence of criminal behavior. To the extent that we looked at Senator Marshall’s behavior, we found nothing criminal.”

Ginny pressed on. “Are you saying that if you’d continued to look, you might have found something?”

“You’re asking me to speculate on what might have been.”

“No, I’m not,” Ginny insisted. “I guess what I’m asking is, is it true that you didn’t go as far with your investigation of Senator Marshall as you would have if he hadn’t died?”

“I would say yes, that’s true.”

Now three reporters shouted for recognition, forgetting the ground rules in their eagerness to be heard. Giavanova raised a forefinger to her lips and then recognized one.

“I don’t understand why you stopped investigating Senator Marshall’s activities because he died,” the reporter said. “If you’d gone ahead, isn’t it possible you would have found evidence that some of those named in the indictment—or even others not named—were guilty of additional crimes?”