Worst Case (Michael Bennett 3)

I whipped out my cell and speed-dialed Seamus. Sometimes having a priest in the family came in handy.

“Listen up. I need your help here, Seamus,” I said. “No monkeying around. Today’s Gospel. Read me today’s Gospel.”

“Don’t tell me you weren’t listening? Remind me to box your ears next time we meet, ye heathen. Okay, I have it right here. Let’s see. Matthew six, one to four: ‘Beware of your practicing your piety before men in order to be seen by them. For then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven. Thus, when you give alms, do not sound the trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and the streets that they may be praised by men. Truly, I say unto you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be in secret, and your Father who sees what is in secret will reward you.’”

“Wait a second. Read that back about the alms.”

“‘That your alms may be in secret,’” Seamus said.

That was it!

I grabbed Emily as I slapped the phone closed.

“I got it! Mooney’s giving alms in secret!”

“Giving what?” Emily said, confused.

“Alms. Charity. Don’t you see? In every case, the family had a philanthropic bent. And in every case, the child was the sole beneficiary of mega wealth. When Mooney learned he was going to die, he concocted this whole thing as a way to cut out the child and donate as much money as he could directly to charity!”

Emily stood there with her mouth open.

“That clever little weasel. That explains the deal with the tests he gave the kids. He was trying to see if they were socially conscious enough to be allowed to inherit their parents’ wealth. That explains why he let the Haas girl live. But how does that help us now?”

“I’ll tell you how,” I said. “Mooney doesn’t want to exchange the fathers for the kids. He’s not going to exchange anything. Mason and Parrish are both single. Once Mooney sees the fathers, he’s going to kill all of them. The fathers, the sons, and himself. The money won’t even have to wait for the fathers’ natural lifetimes to expire in order for it to go to charity. It’ll happen right now.”

Carol Fleming came over.

“What’s the story, guys? Are we sending the fathers in or not?”

“No way, boss,” I said. “But I think I have a plan.”

Chapter 92

“LET’S TALK ABOUT the horrors of the modern world that the greed in this room has helped to create,” Mooney said into the balcony microphone.

“Let’s go over the crimes that all of you here have helped to perpetrate. The environmental travesties, the worker exploitation and deaths, the public corruption and tax evasion. Do you care about the black lung and asbestosis that your corporate masters inflict on their workers? The pollution that your holy shareholders and investors condone?”

Mooney looked down at their blank faces.

“I was like you. I slaved for the corporate machine, protecting it from the law in ways regular people will never be privy to. Protected illegal price fixes and unethical policies against millions of regular working-class people. I saw crimes of unthinkable magnitude. I saw pristine waterways irrevocably befouled with pollution. No one was held responsible. No one went to jail. Why is that? Can anyone tell me?

“By the

way, I can see that many of you here are grossly overweight. But what percentage of the world’s population is starving as we have our little talk here? Anyone have the answer? Don’t be shy.”

Chapter 93

IT TOOK US five minutes to confer with my boss and the Hostage Rescue Team chief Tom Chow. Chow made the final arrangements over his tactical mic as Emily and I pulled on ceramic bomb vests.

“What’s the story now, Detective?” Howard Parrish said as we emerged from the bus. “We’re not going in now? What about my boy?”

“Something new has come to light. It’s our best chance to resolve this thing without any more innocent people getting hurt. We’re going to do the best we can, sir,” Emily said.

“That’s not good enough. Fuck that! I want my son alive. If you can’t guarantee that, then I want to go instead of him. I demand to!”

I stopped and held the executive by his elbow.

“Listen to me, Mr. Parrish,” I said. “I guarantee you that I will bring your son back to you alive.”