William Bernhardt - Perfect Justice

Ben took the paper and read. His jaw fell. He couldn’t fathom it—

But of course. It was the final piece of the puzzle. Now it all made sense, everything he had seen and heard, everything Vick had told him. Everything.

“Mike,” Ben said. “I think I’m going to have a chat. …”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No. Maybe I can get Colonel Nguyen—” He spotted the Colonel sitting in front of his home, locked in a tight embrace with his wife. “Never mind. You get Christina to a hospital.” After making sure no one was listening, he whispered a few more words in Mike’s ear.

“I’ll take care of Christina,” Mike said. “Are you sure you can do this?”

“I—” His voice cracked. He inhaled deeply; after a few moments, he was able to continue. “I’ll be all right.”

Mike nodded. “Good luck.”

“Too late for that,” Ben said. “Much too late for that now.

68.

“THANKS FOR COMING,” BEN said, when Belinda entered what was left of Coi Than Tien’s barn.

“I came as soon as Mike told me where you were.” She ran up to Ben and clasped his hands. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“I heard you were trapped inside that church. My God—you might have been killed!” She reached up and brushed some of the black soot from his face. “I was so worried.”

“Belinda—” He gently pushed her away.

“What’s wrong? What’s bothering you now?”

“Belinda—” Ben’s eyes began to swell up. He fought it back. “Belinda. I know.”

“Know what? I don’t understand.”

Ben looked down at the dirt. He hurt so much he wasn’t sure he could go on. “I know you killed Tommy Vuong.”

“Me?” A horrified expression crossed her face. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”

“Of course not.”

“What could ever make you think I killed him?”

Ben unfolded the paper in his pocket. “Cindy Jo Simpson. The last name threw me off at first, but then I remembered that you were married previously. Your husband’s name was Hamilton, and you didn’t retake your maiden name when you were divorced. I had Mike check it out. You were born Belinda Todd Simpson.” He crumpled the paper in his hand. “Cindy Jo Simpson was your younger sister.”

Belinda fell back against several bales of hay stacked against the wall.

“I remember Mary Sue described the woman who visited Vick as resembling you, only younger,” Ben said. “And when I first saw her in the smoke of the Truong home, I thought she was you. Small wonder there was a resemblance.”

All at once tears tumbled from Belinda’s eyes. “How much do you know?”

“I think I’ve figured out most of it, but I’d rather hear it from you. Revenge, right?”

Belinda brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I told you my sister was always in trouble. And it was always my job to get her out of it. To set the world right again.”

“I know Vuong was accused of rape about a year ago. Your sister was his victim, wasn’t she?”

Belinda nodded. “It was a date rape. She had been hanging around him and some of the others since she met them in Porto Cŗisto. She followed them up here. I think she had a crush on Tommy, but at first he wouldn’t give her the time of day. Finally he asked her out. She was thrilled. So excited. So … vulnerable. On the way home he threw her down in the forest and started beating her. He was beyond mean—psychotic. She had bruises on her face and breasts that lasted for weeks.” Belinda paused, trying to steady her voice. “And then he raped her.”

“Didn’t she report it to the police?”

“Yes, but she had no proof other than her own testimony. Tommy had a squeaky-clean reputation, and everyone knew she liked him and that she wanted to go out with him. They assumed it was consensual intercourse. He winked and jabbed and told them she liked it rough. And they believed him.”

“Surely you could’ve taken the case to higher authorities.”

“ I probably could’ve, but unfortunately I didn’t know about this at the time, and Cindy Jo didn’t have the slightest idea what to do. It was only several months later that she called me. You see, there was another complication. Cindy was pregnant.”

“By Vuong?”

“Right. She ran away from Coi Than Tien, from everyone she knew. She was so despondent, so ashamed. When the baby was almost due, she called me, desperate. She had no money, she knew nothing about babies, she didn’t know what to do. She was distraught, practically irrational. The last nine months of isolation, guilt, and trauma had destroyed her. She was a different person. Very sick, getting sicker by the day.”

“That was the reason you decided to personally head up the Hatewatch operation in Silver Springs,” Ben said.

“True. But when I got here, I couldn’t find her. Not a trace.” She paused, drew in her breath. “But I sure as hell could find Tommy Vuong.”

“So you decided to kill him.”

“It wasn’t like that. I told you I was in that bar when Vick and Vuong fought. The idea came to me in a flash. I could accomplish two great goods with a single stroke. I could take care of the bastard who raped my sister, and at the same time I could strike a blow against ASP, the men who have brought so much misery to so many people. The men who tied me to their cross and beat me like I was an animal.

“When Vick’s head crashed down on my table, he left a smear of blood and a few hairs behind. I waited until John went to the bathroom, then carefully scraped the hair and blood into one of those plastic bags I always carry in my purse.”

“You stole the crossbow and bolts from the ASP stockpile,” Ben said.

“It was risky, but it was critical if I was going to implicate Vick and the rest of ASP. Frank had been watching the ASP camp for weeks. He knew when I should go and how to get in without being caught. He also told me Vick had picked up those crossbow bolts the day before. So naturally that’s what I used.”

“And then you planted the blood and hair on the crossbow, erected a burning cross—the ASP emblem—and waited for Vuong to fall into your trap.”

“That’s right. You know, even then I wasn’t sure I would be able to do it. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to fire the bow. I had to think about it for a long time. When he first saw me and our eyes met—” Her face was lost in shadow, and she whispered to Ben a few more details about what happened next. “But I did it.”

“After you shot him, you left the crossbow where you knew it would be found.”

“True. And I dumped a pile of ASP hate literature I had in my files near the cross.”

“That was your first mistake,” Ben explained. “The fine print on some of the brochures specified that they had been printed in Birmingham. Why would Dunagan and his gang import literature when they have a printing press at their camp right here? It was possible, but it struck me as unlikely. That’s when I began to wonder if the brochures had been planted. I checked Jones’s research on ASP’s activities in Birmingham. Only three people were there who are also here. Grand Dragon Dunagan. Frank Carroll. And you.”

“How stupid of me. I didn’t even think.”

“What happened to your sister?”

“Even after Vuong was dead, I still couldn’t find Cindy Jo. I don’t know where she had the baby. I know she didn’t know what to do with her. She had no home, no help, no money. In her state of mind, she was utterly unable to deal with a newborn. But I still don’t know why she left her in the Truongs’ home.”

“I think I do,” Ben said. “She had been with the Coi Than Tien people for some time, so she must’ve known a good deal about them. Including the fact that Maria Truong desperately wanted a baby.”