Decency (13 page)
“Honestly, there is no way I can begin to answer that question. To put it bluntly, for all I know you could be recruiting me for a cult. I just have to know why you are approaching a total stranger with questions about trusting the government.”
Something touched the right chord. She visibly relaxed.
“Ms. Hawkins, that’s what I wanted to hear. If you’d said either ‘yes,’ or ‘no,’ I would’ve taken you for a firebrand or a true believer and wouldn’t trouble you any further.”
She was totally sincere and apparently did not realize that curiosity about her purpose would not survive irksomeness at her presumption.
“Thanks for the compliment…I guess. You have not been any trouble at all. If you’d give me my receipt so I can be…”
She raised her palm. She was used to getting her way and wore a sense of command with some ease.
“Please, Ms. Hawkins, I think what I have to say will be worth your time… Do you have children, Ms. Hawkins?”
“No…”
She took a photograph from her apron pocket and laid it on the table top, directly in front. A confident, beautiful young woman engagingly looked directly into the camera lens. Her copper hair and blue eyes would have passported her as a native in Edinburgh, Scotland.
“This is my daughter. She worked for the government. I think they might have killed her.” Sorrow and anger competed in the pitch of her voice.
…this is getting too involved. For all of her self-assurance, this proud woman is really beaten down. She suspects everything and can’t accept the simplest explanation, however likely to be true. Nonetheless, she is touchingly sincere.
“Your daughter is lovely and I am truly sorry for your loss.”
“Ms. Hawkins, you probably think there is something wrong with me… that I can’t see facts for what they are…because I’ve lost a child. I’d think that way too…of someone else if I didn’t know what I know.”
Every nerve end was screaming,
If you don’t leave now you will never be finished with this.
Against every instinct the conversation went on.
“Kathy, I must be honest. I’m shot from…constant work for several years. I’ve needed to get away for a long time. Part of me will begrudge anyone or anything that gets in the way of this trip. That may sound terribly crass or selfish to you but…”
Kathy raised her palm once again. With barely concealed anger and tears welling in her eyes she whispered.
“Why do lawyers always have something more important than my daughter?”
…she is obviously right…can’t tell her it’s money…they don’t want to be stuck with a loser after investing their time…but a few minutes will not make that much of a difference…
“Please, Kathy, don’t misunderstand. I only mean that you know nothing about me and there is no real reason for you to seek my help in the first place.”
“We both may be able to decide that better if you know the story.”
“Of course.”
“Ms. Hawkins, do you know what the NSA is?”
“Yes, I know they do worldwide electronic surveillance, but not the cloak and dagger stuff like the CIA. And that makes it hard to think that they might be involved with, as you say, ‘killing’ anyone.”
With a bitterness that made it unforgettable, she almost hissed, deliberately emphasizing each word.
“
That…is…exactly…right.
”
All of the men, except the old man, had drifted away, gone to the private hell of contemplating bankruptcy, or worse, more debt.
The woman signaled the old man. He came to the booth and sat down with her.
“Ms. Hawkins, this is my husband, Harlan Pierce.”
Pierce offered his hand. Shaking it was like grasping a small tree. His palm bore the rough surface of years of heavy work and, underneath, there was no give.
“Harlan, Ms. Hawkins is a lawyer. She’s handled employment cases against the government. I think she’s a good person. And I think she might be able to help us.”
The old man’s eyes burned fierce blue, bracketed by crow’s feet etched into the walnut patina on his cheekbones. This was a man who has seen much, probably too much, but would not shirk from looking where he must. The eyes searched the guest’s face, as his wife’s had before.
“Ms. Hawkins, my wife’s instincts about people never miss. We know you might not be able to do anything. But if she says so, then that’s it. It’s worth the try.”
“Mr. Pierce, I’m terribly sorry for your loss. But I have to tell you, as I’m sitting here, I doubt there is anything that I can do. But I don’t know that for sure. I would need to know what happened.”
The couple looked at each other a moment, then the woman began.
“Our daughter, Samantha Pierce, was an only child. We had another daughter, Anne. She died of leukemia before Samantha was born.
“When your child dies you cherish the next one. You know it is a great gift and you shower love and time on her. She flourished beyond any hope. She was bright. Very bright. She could read by age four. She quickly learned anything that caught her attention. We encouraged her to try many things.
“She learned to love the piano. She won calf breeding championships in the 4-H Club and led her high school basketball team to the state tournament finals.
“She went to Duke on scholarships and majored in computer science. After graduation she worked in the DoD and ended up in NSA. She was a star there, too.
Kathy gave Kelly the entire sequence of events surrounding Samantha’s disillusionment, referral to psychological evaluation, decision to leave, visit home, and sudden death.
“Three months after she went back, she was dead. She was found in her bed. The death certificate said she had died of ‘natural causes’ ‘possibly occasioned by allergic reaction to prescribed medication.’ Something is wrong in all of this. And the only place anything was wrong at all was at NSA. It had to be someone there.
“We have talked to three lawyers, one in Lincoln, one in Omaha, and even one in Washington. They all said we have no case. They said even if we find the evidence proving she was railroaded, the government isn’t liable for security clearance decisions and that would be so much a part of the case it’s not worth pursuing. But they did not even talk to witnesses.
“Now we are about out of time because the statute of limitations runs out in about two weeks. We desperately need help soon.”
…I wish I could tell you I know how you feel from personal experience…
“Kathy, it’s doubtful I could do better than the lawyers you talked to before.”
“
They didn’t even talk to any witnesses.
It seems like all the lawyers we talk to just don’t want to try or don’t think our sweet girl is even worth trying for. Let me tell you,
Samantha is worth trying for!
”
“Yes, but a lawyer…”
“All we want is the truth. We really don’t care if it goes to court. The other lawyers wrote up complete legal memos that will help you start immediately. I have them right here with the letters she wrote…we thought it was so sweet when she didn’t email and wrote real…”
Her voice broke. Tears ran down the cheeks of both Harlan and Kathy Pierce.
…oh, God, the look in their eyes…I know what that feeling is…
“A lawyer only has so many ways to work…”
…this isn’t getting anywhere…
“…and they all require some evidence…”
…why…why…why…
Kelly sat and watched them both for a long while before she knew she could not just tell them no.
“All right…tell you what, I’ll talk to the witnesses.”
“Ms. Hawkins, that is all we can expect.”
Harlan Pierce seemed resigned to the inevitable.
“I understand Ms. Hawkins. We’ll appreciate whatever you feel you can do. But we have to find out the truth.”
Back in the car, which way to turn was uncertain, west again, to continue and have someone back in the office check out the witnesses, or east, to go home.
…the woman was so…compelling…
The story was both incredible and impossible not to believe. If it was true, as she understood it, the anger it was already sparking would probably never quite let go and could affect any lawyer involved in such a case for life.
Tom, I don’t know what to do.
A loud shout reverberated in the car.
“Damn! Damn! Damn!”
The car turned east, back toward the Omaha airport.
This is crazy. The Pierce family’s terrible loss is one thing. Doing anything about it is…probably next to impossible.
If there was one thing that was true about fighting this kind of case, it was that a lawyer cannot make it right. A lawyer could spend a life trying to make this kind of case and end up doing nothing but spinning wheels.
A whistleblower case was the most that was here, it was not even clear yet the daughter blew the whistle on anyone, and whistleblowers never get justice. For all of the media hype about such cases, and the occasional successful outcome of one of them, the brutal reality was they took too much time, effort, and money to get them off the ground.
Worse, in this case, an intelligence agency was involved. Suits against them went nowhere for their own sets of reasons. So, here, there was even less likelihood of getting near a court with it. Beyond that, the likelihood of NSA - any government agency being implicated here - paled in comparison to that of a jilted boyfriend, a jealous co-worker, or any number of other garden variety evils. Even suicide was more likely.
… might not have been a crime scene investigation…even if there was, a ‘natural causes’ finding meant there probably wasn’t much physical evidence…at best, you’re going to be stuck with witnesses…people, frail humans, whose fears and ambitions will warp their testimony…and that assumes they will even be willing to get involved at all.
This is crazy…this is crazy…this is crazy.
So, why are you heading to Omaha for a plane home?
The only intelligent thing to do would be to pick up the cell phone, call the Pierces and bow out as gracefully as possible. They are salt-of-the-earth people but you aren’t going to stop the tide running against them even if you get lucky enough to find out something about their daughter’s death. Instead, here you are dialing your office, knowing the call forwarding will…
