pulling guard duty at the stockade. Probably why nobody remembered me.”
Jordan Knight flinched. “Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?”
“I let you in to see Rufus because I was a greenhorn scared private and I had a captain ordering me to. And then Rufus came busting out of his cell, knocked me down and changed everybody’s life forever. For twenty-five damn years I’ve wondered what really happened in there. I kept quiet about all of you because I was scared. Rayfield was the most senior. He probably would’ve remembered me. Guess no one mentioned my name to him. Lucky. Rayfield fixed it up so I wouldn’t get in trouble, but he made it clear I had better keep my mouth shut about all of you being in there. And I never knew what had happened anyway. And by the time I got the courage to say something, it was all over, and Rufus was in prison. I’ve lived with that guilt all these years. But I got off easy.” McKenna looked over at Rufus. “I’m sorry, Rufus. I was weak, a coward. It probably doesn’t make any difference to you, but there hasn’t been a day gone by that I didn’t hate myself for it.”
Jordan cleared his throat. “Very touching, Agent McKenna. However, if you think you saw me in the stockade that night, you’re mistaken.”
“CIA records will show that you were at Fort Plessy conducting PCP tests on soldiers stationed there,” McKenna pointed out.
“If you can get those records, get them. Even if I was there, so what? I was in the intelligence service back then. That’s no secret. The public is aware of that.”
“I wonder if your constituents would be bothered by the fact that you were administering PCP to soldiers,” Chandler said heatedly.
“Even if I did — and I’m not admitting anything — the program was perfectly aboveboard and legal, as my wife could certainly tell you.”
“U.S. v. Stanley?” Sara said bitterly.
Jordan’s gaze did not leave McKenna. “Quite a coincidence that you claim to have been in the stockade and now you’re involved in this matter,” he said.
“It was no coincidence, it was intentional,” was McKenna’s surprising reply. “After I left the Army I finished college, and then went to the FBI academy. But I kept tabs on you and the others. Guilt is very strong motivation. Rayfield and Tremaine moved around with Rufus. That I found suspicious, but not conclusive. Perkins and Dellasandro moved around with you. They had positions in your various businesses. I got myself transferred to the Richmond Field Office so I could be close to you. When you jumped into politics they again went with you. When you went to D.C., you got Dellasandro and Perkins jobs at the Senate. So I got transferred to D.C. When you were given a seat on the Senate Judiciary Committee a few years ago, you got them their positions at the Court. Real nice of you. It must be part of the payback, the agreement all of you made. Rayfield and Tremaine baby-sat Rufus. You took care of Perkins and Leo. I bet if we checked their accounts, we’d find some nice little retirement funds somewhere.
“When I got wind of Michael Fiske’s murder, I jumped on it only because it was at the Court. When I discovered Rufus was connected somehow, I prayed all those years of following you were going to pay off. Now the truth has finally come out.”
“Absurd speculation, you mean,” Jordan Knight countered. “From your own words, it’s obvious you have some deranged vendetta against me. I find it outrageous that you’ve come into my home making all these accusations, particularly after I’ve had a man try to murder me, forcing me to kill him. And other than Detective Chandler, who has to investigate this act of obvious self-defense, I want the rest of you to get the hell out of my home.”
McKenna pulled a cell phone from his pocket, spoke into it and listened to the response. “I’m placing you under arrest, Senator Jordan. I’m sure Detective Chandler will do the same.”
“Get the hell out of here. Now!”
“I’m going to read you your rights now.”
“I’ll have you in the FBI equivalent of Siberia by dawn. You have no proof of anything.”
“Actually, I’m basing my arrest on your own words.” While everyone watched, McKenna knelt under the desk kneehole, probed for a moment and pulled out a listening device. “Your statements came through loud and clear in the surveillance van parked outside.” He looked at Fiske. “Knight was the one who told Rayfield to kill your brother.”
Jordan was furious. “That is completely illegal. There’s not a judge in this city who would have given you a warrant for that. I’m not going to prison, you are.”
“We didn’t need a warrant. We had consent.”
“Bullshit!” Jordan roared. He looked like he was about to attack the agent. “I demand you give me those tapes immediately. You’re an imbecile if you think anyone will believe that I gave such consent.”
“You didn’t, Jordan. I did.”
The blood drained from Jordan’s face as his wife stepped into the room. She didn’t even look at Perkins’s body. Her gaze remained fixed on her husband.
“You?”
“I live here too, Jordan. I gave that consent.”
“In God’s name, why?”
Elizabeth held his gaze for a moment, then touched the sleeve of Rufus Harms. “This man is why, Jordan. This man is the only reason strong enough to make me do what I did.”
“For him? He’s a child killer.”
“It’s no good, Jordan. I know the truth. And damn you for what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done? All I’ve ever done is serve my country.” He stabbed a finger at Rufus. “This man never did shit for anything or anybody. The bastard deserved to die.”
Moving faster than his bulk would seem to have allowed, Rufus reached Jordan, his big hands encircling the senator’s neck as he slammed him up against the wall.
“Damn you!” Rufus screamed. His grip tightened and Jordan started turning red.
McKenna and Chandler trained their guns, but couldn’t bring themselves to shoot. They looked helpless. They grabbed Rufus, but it was like pulling on a mountain.
“Jordan,” Elizabeth screamed.
“Rufus, stop,” Sara yelled.
Jordan was nearly unconscious.
Fiske stepped forward. “Rufus, Rufus?” Fiske took a quick breath and then just said it. “Josh didn’t make it.” Rufus instantly loosened his grip on Jordan’s throat and stared at Fiske. “He’s dead, Rufus. We both lost our brothers.” Fiske was visibly trembling and Sara put a hand on his shoulder. “If you kill him, you’ll go back to prison and Josh will have died for nothing.” Rufus relaxed his grip even more as tears wound down his face. “You can’t do it, Rufus.” Fiske took another unsteady step forward. “You just can’t.”
As the two bereaved men looked at one another, Rufus simply let go, and a gasping Jordan Knight slumped to the carpet.
* * *
Jordan did not look at his wife as he was led away in handcuffs by McKenna. An hour later the forensics team had completed its work and Perkins’s body was removed. Chandler, Rufus, Sara and Fiske remained behind. Elizabeth Knight was in her bedroom.
“So how much did you know about the truth, Buford?” Fiske asked.
“Some of it. McKenna and I had talks. At first I think he really believed you were involved, or at least he genuinely did-n’t like you.” Chandler smiled. “But after he learned Rufus was somehow connected, his opinion changed. I didn’t like the idea of him setting you up for the fall, though. And he pushed the buttons on Sara getting fired.”
“Why?” Sara asked.
“You two were getting close to the truth. That meant you both were in danger. McKenna knew the people involved were capable of a lot. But he didn’t have any proof. He had to make them think you two were the primary suspects. And every time we were around Perkins and Dellasandro, McKenna made it clear he thought Rufus’s appeal was bogus and John was the killer. He took your gun and made sure Perkins and Dellasandro knew it was missing. He hoped that meant they would feel safe and might slip up. Also it was meant to keep you two safe.”
“I don’t think it accomplished the last part,” Sara said with a shiver.
“Well, he didn’t count on you losing his surveillance team either. Once McKenna got Justice Knight to agree to the bug, he just had to spring the trap. McKenna had already told Justice Knight that he knew her husband from Fort Plessy, so when the senator told her he had to call to get that information, she knew he was lying.”
“So Justice Knight’s quick thinking probably saved my life,” Sara commented.
Chandler nodded in agreement. “When everything went down, McKenna knew Perkins would make a run for it and would need Jordan’s help. It worked out okay. Jordan killing Perkins was not in the game plan. But I’m not going to lose any sleep over that.” Chandler looked at Rufus Harms. “I need to take you into custody, but it won’t be for long.”
“I want to see my brother.”
Chandler nodded. “I can arrange that.”
“I’ll go with you, Rufus,” Fiske said.
As they walked to the door, Elizabeth Knight met them in the hallway.
“Justice Knight, you did a very brave thing tonight. I know how painful it was for you,” Chandler said.
Elizabeth reached out her hand to Rufus Harms. “It can’t possibly be worth anything to you after all you have suffered, Mr. Harms, but I am so sorry for everything. So very, very sorry.”
He took her hand gently. “It’s worth a lot, ma’am. To me and my brother.”
As they headed out the door, Elizabeth Knight looked at them all and said with finality, “Good-bye.”
The group headed to the elevator. When the three men stepped on the elevator car, Sara hesitated. “I’ll catch up with you later,” she said. As the elevator doors closed, she raced back to the apartment. Mary opened the door.
“Where’s Justice Knight?”
“She went into the bedroom. Why — ”
Sara flew past her and burst into the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, Elizabeth Knight looked up at her former clerk. The justice’s hand was clenched in a fist; a prescription bottle lay empty next to her.
Sara walked slowly over to her, sat down and took her hand. She opened it and the pills spilled out. “Elizabeth, that’s not the way to deal with this.”
“Deal with it?” Elizabeth said hysterically. “My life just walked out that door in handcuffs.”
“Jordan Knight just walked out that door. Justice Elizabeth Knight is sitting right here next to me. The same Justice Knight who will be leading the Supreme Court into the next century.”
“Sara …” The tears spilled down her face.
“It’s a lifetime appointment. And you have a lot of life left.” Sara squeezed her hand. “I’d like to help you with your work, your very important work. If you’ll have me back.”
Sara put her arms around the woman’s trembling shoulders.
“I don’t know if I can do this … survive this.”
“I’m certain that you can. And you won’t be doing it alone. I promise.”
Elizabeth clutched at the young woman’s shoulder. “Will you stay with me tonight, Sara?”
“I’ll stay as long as you want.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
On the strength of his being the possessor of the Silver Star, Purple Heart and Distinguished Service Medal, Josh Harms was entitled to burial with modified honors — the highest an enlisted man could attain — at Arlington National Cemetery. However, the Army representative who had come to speak to Rufus about the arrangement seemed bent on talking him out of it.
“He got shot up, saved a bunch of the men in his company, won himself a box full of medals,” Rufus said, eyeing the man’s uniform, the single row of colored metal on it. “A lot mor’n you got.”
The man twisted his lips. “His record was not the cleanest in the world either. He had a real problem with authority. From what I could gather, he didn’t like or respect one thing about the institution he was representing.”
“So you think burying him up there with all them generals and such would be disrespectful?”
“The cemetery is running out of space. I think it would be a nice gesture to reserve those spaces for soldiers who actually were proud to wear the uniform, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Even though he earned it?” Rufus said.
“I’m not disputing that. But I can’t believe your brother would want to be buried there either.”
“I guess he’d spend all of eternity telling those dead brass exactly what he thinks of them.”
“Something like that,” the man said dryly. “So then we’re in agreement? You’ll arrange burial for him elsewhere?”
Rufus eyed the man. “I made up my mind.”
Thus, on a cool, clear day in October, former Sergeant Joshua Harms, USA, was laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery. From an angle, the ground was so covered with white crosses that it looked like an early snow had fallen. As the honor guard fired off its salute and the bugler launched into taps, the simple coffin was lowered into the ground. Rufus and one of Josh’s sons received the flag, folded tricornered, from a somber and respectful Army officer, while Fiske, Sara, McKenna and Chandler looked on.
Later, as Rufus prayed over his brother’s grave, he thought about all of the bodies buried here, most in the name of war. There were both men and women who had this as their final resting place, although, historically, it was the men who were the instigators and chief wagers of armed conflict. For those who traced their history though the Book of Genesis and beyond, as did Rufus, the bodies buried here could blame the existence of wars on the man called Cain and the mortal blow he struck his brother Abel.
As Rufus finished his prayer, his talk with his Lord and his brother, he rose and put an arm around the nephew he had never seen until today. His heart was sad, but his spirits were lifted. He knew that his brother had passed on to a better place. And for as long as Rufus lived, Josh Harms would never be forgotten. And when Rufus went to join his Lord he would also, once again, embrace his brother.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Two days later, Michael Fiske was buried at a private cemetery on the outskirts of Richmond. The well-attended funeral service included each justice of the United States Supreme Court. Ed Fiske, dressed in an old suit, his hair neatly combed, awkwardly stood next to his surviving son and received condolences from each of the jurists, together with many of Virginia’s political and social elite.
Harold Ramsey spent an extra minute giving comfort to the father and then turned to the son.
“I appreciate all that you did, John. And the sacrifice that your brother made.”
“The ultimate one,” Fiske said in an unfriendly tone.
Ramsey nodded. “I also respect your views. I hope that you can respect my views as well.”
Fiske shook the man’s hand. “I guess that’s what makes the world go round.”
Looking at Ramsey made Fiske think of what lay ahead for Rufus. Fiske had encouraged him to sue everybody he could think of, including the Army and Jordan Knight. There was no statute of limitations on murder, and the ensuing cover-up orchestrated by Jordan and the others had broken numerous other laws.
Rufus had refused Fiske’s advice, however. “All of ’em except for Knight are in a far worse place than any judge on this earth could send ’em to,” he had said. “That’s their true punishment. And Knight’s got to live with what he done. That’s enough for me. I got no reason to get mixed up with courts and judges no more. I just want to live as a free man, spend a lot of time with Josh’s children. Go see my momma’s grave. That’s all.”
Fiske had tried to get him to change his mind, until he realized that the man was right. Besides, Fiske thought, according to the precedents established by the Supreme Court, Rufus couldn’t sue the Army anyway. Not unless Elizabeth Knight could use the Barbara Chance case to give military personnel the same basic rights as the rest of the country’s citizens. To do that, she had to get past Ramsey. As he thought about it, though, Fiske concluded that if anyone could do it, Elizabeth Knight could. He’d like to be a fly on the wall of the Supreme Court in the coming years.
But there were two things Fiske — with the assistance of JAG attorney Phil Jansen — was going to accomplish for Rufus: an honorable discharge, and a full military pension and benefits. Rufus Harms wasn’t going to scrape for an existence, not after all he had been through.
As Fiske finished this thought, Sara walked up with Elizabeth Knight. Sara had returned to the Court as Knight’s clerk. The place was slowly returning to normal. Or as normal as it was going to get with Knight and Ramsey in the same building.
“I feel deeply responsible for all of this,” Knight said.