A Slow Walk to Hell (30 page)

It wasn’t right. Sam had served his country honorably. He didn’t deserve this.

But the ugly lesson we’d both learned was that life wasn’t fair.

“Clayter Lake?” he said quietly.

“Just say when.”

When Enrique entered the room, Simon immediately started the tape. “Whenever you’re ready, General…”

S
am spoke in slow, measured words, aware of the significance of what he was saying.

“Teresa Harris was into sex. Any kind of sex. It was a sickness with her. Men, women, it didn’t matter. Boys too. Franklin was eleven when she first molested him. It freaked him out. His parents were barely in the ground and here was his aunt doing these things to him. Franklin begged her to stop, but she wouldn’t. He didn’t know what to do, who to turn to. She said no one would listen to him if he told, and he believed her. She was this important woman and he was only a kid. So he kept his mouth shut and took the abuse for almost a year. Until he was twelve.

“That’s when he ran away the first time. It wasn’t only the sex he was running away from, it was also the control she had over him. By then, Teresa had gotten into his head. She could make him do almost anything. Sick stuff. He considered suicide. Thought about it all the time. Twelve years old and he was going to kill himself. Jesus, I thought I had it tough, being different. But when I think about what Franklin went through…what it must of been like…”

Sam blinked hard, trailing off. He turned away until he regained his composure. “Anyway, he stayed gone for almost a month. Then he got busted for shoplifting and was sent home; Teresa punished him. He never told me what she did, but it was bad. Franklin shook like a leaf when he mentioned this part. After a couple months, he took off again. This time when he was returned, his uncle shipped him off to military school. He’d had it with Franklin and wanted to get rid of him. Little did Congressman Harris know, he was saving Franklin’s life. Teresa couldn’t get to him when he was at school. A Catholic priest there also helped. Franklin was suicidal when he arrived and the priest spent months counseling him. The priest tried to convince him to report his aunt, but Franklin never would. Like I said, Teresa had this control over him. Even when he got older, he could never say no to her. I couldn’t understand it, but…hell, you saw the tape. She still had this power over him. Sick fucking bitch.”

He shook his head angrily. We waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, Amanda said, “Maybe I missed something, General, but Major Talbot
was
gay, right?”

A nod. “It was something he discovered in school. Part of it, most it, must have been reaction to the abuse. A kind of defense mechanism. For a while, he hated women.”

Now came the dicey part. I had to bring it up because of what I’d seen on the tape. I said, “He seemed to perform with her physically. Mrs. Harris.”

“And only her,” Sam said. “She was the one woman who could arouse him. Go figure.”

I couldn’t. I doubted anyone could.

Simon asked, “Was Father Carlacci the school priest?”

Sam nodded, his voice thick. “He was a good man. A saint. And that crazy bitch killed him.”

At this remark, Simon’s face hardened. A reflection of his own hate simmering below the surface. “You’re certain Mrs. Harris was responsible?”

“I know she killed Talbot. She and that black woman. Her assistant.”

“How do you know, General?”

Sam measured Simon with a long look. “Easy. I saw them.”

Amanda and I stared at him, but Simon showed no reaction. He calmly leaned forward and slid the tape recorder closer to Sam.

“Go on, General.”

Sam had been on his way to the Pentagon athletic club when Talbot called him on his cell phone. It was around 4
P.M
. Talbot told Sam that a car was slowly driving by his house. Talbot was convinced it was Slater’s people. He was frightened. Could Sam please come?

Sam rushed right over without notifying his office. When he arrived, he noticed a car rolling up the front drive. Initially, he was also convinced it had to be Slater’s people. Then he saw two women get out.

Teresa Harris and Abigail Gillette.

Sam said, “I asked Franklin over the intercom to let me in. He said it would be better if he talked to his aunt alone. He said it would be okay. She would never hurt him. I blame myself. I knew what she was like. I knew what she was capable of. But I let him talk me into leaving. Walking away. I should have insisted he let me in. If I had, Franklin would still be…but I left. I
left
and…and they killed him. Butchered him like an animal.”

He stared at his big hands, his face etched with guilt.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I was there, Marty.
I was there.”

Sam was determined to bear responsibility for Talbot’s death. Because of my own demons, I knew that nothing I could say could remove that burden. Sam would have to do that on his own…if he could.

He sagged back heavily in his chair, saying over and over, “I was there…I was there…” We let him talk, get it out. At some point, he closed his eyes, as if overcome by the burden pressing down upon him. I was worried for him. He was on edge, close to coming apart. Ideally, it would be better if we left, questioned him at a later date. But that wasn’t an option. Five people were dead and we had to know the truth.

Simon asked Sam about the motive, the reason behind the killings. Sam didn’t answer. He lay there with his eyes closed. He could have been asleep, but we knew he wasn’t.

Simon prompted, “General?”

Sam’s eyes fluttered open. “I told you. Franklin was going to expose the blackmail operation.”

“We need to know the details. How it all began.”

He reluctantly sat up, looking at Simon. “It began with a phone call…”

As Sam laid everything out, the remaining pieces of the puzzle came together. Not every space was filled, but what we didn’t know, we could guess at.

Last year, Slater made a call to Teresa Harris. He informed her he had a videotape of her and Talbot—the one we’d viewed—and threatened to release it unless Teresa convinced her husband to hire him as campaign manager. Teresa resisted. She asked Talbot to negotiate with Slater, see if he would take money instead.

Slater wouldn’t. He wanted to manage the Harris campaign and would accept nothing less. In the end, Teresa Harris surrendered to Slater’s demands and convinced her husband to hire him.

Initially, she despised Slater, for the hold he had on her. But because of the campaign’s spectacular success, her attitude soon changed. She came to realize that Slater
was
a brilliant political strategist. Moreover, she began to accept the fact that she
needed
him to achieve her dream of becoming first lady. An alliance was formed, a pact between two ruthlessly ambitious people who would do almost anything to succeed. With every primary win, they became increasingly convinced they would succeed. They believed nothing could stop them.

They forgot about Talbot.

He was the one person who knew of the alliance between Teresa and Slater. Once Congressman Harris became president, Talbot realized Slater would try and control him, through his influence over Teresa. That was the reason for the two-for-one candidacy. Slater wanted Teresa to have political clout in her own right, because she was the source of his power.

Years of military schooling coupled with his deepening Catholic faith had changed Talbot. Once a troubled youth, he’d evolved into a young man with an uncompromising ethical and moral center. To him, it was unconscionable that a blackmailer might actually control the next president of the United States. He told his aunt he couldn’t agree to this. He begged her to reconsider.

She promised she would.

The next day Talbot received his own call from Slater, telling him to keep his mouth shut. That same afternoon, a tape arrived. Several days later, another video was delivered. Slater wasn’t screwing around; he was going to make sure Talbot behaved. For a while, his tactics worked and Talbot, stung by his aunt’s betrayal, was cowed into silence.

As time passed, Talbot’s resolve gradually stiffened. Despite his fears, he knew he was the only one who could stop Slater. But he also agonized how to accomplish this without destroying his aunt.

It came down to control. The control she held over him. While he hated her, he also loved her at some level.

For months, his feelings for his aunt kept him from revealing what he knew. He held out hope that perhaps Harris wouldn’t win his party’s nomination. As the primary victories piled up, that hope dimmed and Talbot realized he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to act.

So he did by confiding in Sam, Major Coller, and Father Carlacci, informing them of his intentions and enlisting their help.

“What he wanted from Major Coller and me,” Sam explained, “was help in doing what I did today. Destroying the tapes and membership lists. Also, he wanted us to support his assertions that Slater was a blackmailer. We were the obvious choices; we were his partners on the two tapes Slater had sent. Father Carlacci provided moral support. He was Franklin’s conscience. Whenever Franklin wavered, the father reminded him—Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

Simon edged forward as if to ask a question. When he voiced it, Amanda and I winced. This was something we’d wondered about, but hadn’t had the nerve to ask.

“General,” Simon said, “did it bother you that Major Talbot had other partners?”

Sam sighed. “Sure it did. But that was the reality of our lives. Because of our professions, we could never have an exclusive relationship. It was too dangerous for our careers. We rarely got together more than once or twice a month.” He shrugged. “He was a young man; he had needs.”

“But he tried not to…stray?”

Sam seemed to smile. “He tried hard. Hated himself when he did. You saw his bedroom…” He waited for Simon’s nod. “He understood homosexuality was a mortal sin. He knew he was going to Hell, for what he was.” Sam paused, his voice turning quiet. “I hope that’s not true.”

Simon was silent. He was too much of a Catholic to voice reassurance if he believed it was false.

Changing the subject, I asked Sam to expand on something he’d alluded to earlier.

“By coming forward,” I said, “Major Talbot realized he was going to destroy his military career. Everyone would know he was gay…”

“Right. Sure.”

“What about Major Coller? He would also be exposed—”

“Coller never agreed,” Sam said. “He had a lot to lose because he was separating from the Air Force to work for Teresa Harris. Once the scandal broke, he knew the Harrises would be dead politically and he’d be out of a job.” His eyes held mine, knowing where I was going with this. When he spoke, I heard his sadness. “The answer to your next question is no, Marty. I also told Franklin no. I couldn’t come forward. I asked him to destroy the tape of us.”

It was a stunningly candid admission and explained Sam’s overwhelming sense of guilt.

I said, “And the reason you’re allowing us to keep that tape…”

“There has to be a tape of someone who can testify to being blackmailed. Teresa Harris certainly won’t admit it and everyone else is dead.” He shrugged. “Besides, it doesn’t really matter anyway. It’s all going to come out in the end. And you know what, Marty? I don’t give a damn. I’m tired of living a lie. I’m tired of being scared and hiding in the shadows. I don’t care what people think any more. I really don’t.”

Sam sounded as if he genuinely believed what he was saying. Was he rationalizing to make the inevitable more palatable? Only he knew for sure, but the conviction in his voice told me he wasn’t.

“I’m glad for you, Sam.”

“Don’t be. I should have done this years earlier. If I had…”

He didn’t complete the thought.

I asked my remaining question now: Did Sam know the extent of Congressman Harris’s role in the murders?

“I might be wrong,” he replied, “but I suspect he was in the dark. It was something we discussed earlier. According to Franklin, his uncle was a straight arrow—”

“We?” I said.

“Oh, the lieutenant and me.” He glanced at Simon. “Over the phone, we discussed the congressman. I told him Franklin never implicated him. That’s damned suggestive, since there was certainly no love lost between him and his uncle. If Congressman Harris was involved, Franklin would have said something.”

Simon was nodding. I said to him, “Come off it. Harris had to know. Maybe not about the murder, but about the blackmail.”

“How?” he said.

“What do mean how?”

“How? If Mrs. Harris didn’t tell him, how would he know?”

“Talbot,” I said. “What if Talbot told him?”

“He didn’t.”

The conviction in his voice irritated me. I said sarcastically, “And you know this because…”

“Would Congressman Harris have continued to give Talbot a million dollars a year, if he knew his nephew had slept with his wife? Would you?”

“I…well…” As I hunted for a response, Amanda and Enrique shook their heads. They knew this was an argument I was going to lose.

“Fine,” I said, surrendering. “So maybe it wasn’t Talbot.”

Simon tried not to smile…and failed.

“Anyway,” Sam said. “The lieutenant said he’d check.”

I was curious how Simon intended to pull this off. But I was still annoyed with him and didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of me having to ask.