Final Challenge (9 page)

- So, without further?

- So.

- Do you know
to
Feaks?

- Yes, he takes all his lifetime in the party but always has been a mediocre one. But he wouldn't mind selling his soul to the devil so to gain power.

- I can think of no reason why the Feaks group had be
en able to influence on Harold
to the point of destroy him in this way ...

- I must admit that I have thought one ... but I ended up rejecting the idea.

- What do you mean? ...

- Initially I thought the only possibility would be
they had been subjected him to
such blackmail
that he would have been forced
to resign
for
Feaks.

Carol was cold. In order to blackmail
someone it would be necessary
looking for a solid weak point on the victim and she knew that they were not going to find it in Harold. Or perhaps yes? ... because in a situation
where the person you love and
you believe to know in-depth changes so drastically, everything seems potentially possible. Perhaps a matter of skirts? ...  She could not imagine Harold cheating her, they always have formed a unit, a team, she had full confidence in his love and fidelity.  She kept away ghosts from her head to answer.

- It's
impossible. Blackmail? They wouldn
't find a minimal basis for doing so.

   Thomas stared at her for about a few seconds. Then he nodded.

- So I quickly banished such possibility. It has no solid foundation.

- No, none. When I am
alone with him then I'll know the truth just look into his eyes.

   Thomas sighed and looked down. For a few seconds remained hesitant, then get up and invited her to accompany him with a gesture. Carol soon understood that Thomas had finally decided to say something so transcendent that he had decided to seek a minimum of privacy to do so. She could barely conceal her nervous state. Her legs failed and her lips trembled when smiling to everyone who greeted her to meet them on her way down the long corridor to cross the access door. Thomas pointed to a small office and once inside he insisted that she sit. It took some time for him to begin to talk, until the point that time se
emed eternal to her. When he decided to do it made
it very slowly, trying to measure every word.

- It should be Harold who told this to you. But first you deserve an explanation. Secondly I have the honor to consider me your best friend an
d I can’
t deli
berately
failing to reality.

    Thomas opened slightly the door, beckoned the attention of one of the security guards and said something to him. Carol was so blocked that she could not speak.  She just wanted that Thomas continued, so she simply watched the scene. Then he continued trying to avoid at all costs her look of despair.

- And third, Harold prayed me that was me who
told it to you when this damn
Convention finished
. He said that he wouldn't gather enough strength to do it. It has no sense to hide it to you for more time.

- He ... never has ... acted ... in this way  ... Whatever it was ... He always would have said it... He's not a ... coward ... - Carol replied, stammering in a weak voice -

- This Harold is very different.

  The door opened and
came
in
a waiter carrying a tray with tea, some cookies and some pills that Thomas took before she perceived them. For the first time in her life, Carol shunned a situation. She knew his friend had to tell her something for what could not be ready, so she took half a cup in a sip and then asked a question that didn't fail to surprise to Thomas.

-
Before you go on. You are his lifelong friend, you know him almost as good as me. And you've been with him last month, sharing the campaign ef
fort. When did y
ou perceive some strange in his behavior?

- The change was vivid, almost sudden. One night said me that Feaks and some party members urgently wanted to speak with him and they had invited him to lunch the next day.

- Do not you wonder they wanted?

- Yeah
, of course. But he said he didn't know, they had not wanted to reveal it.

- He could have refused.

- Carol! You know perfectly how he is  ... or ...  he wa
s! ... If someone calls at his
door, always have a minute for him, even if he has to fit his diary. When I saw him the next day, did not seem the same. Hardly spoke, even stuttered. He avoided any conversation.

- So? ...

- He looked very tired. We decided we had to make certain me
dical tests, although he didn’t
want.

   At this point, Carol's eyes were opened for an excessive way, she did not miss even the slightest expression of the face of Thomas, wh
o began to look down as he talked
, more and more nervous.

- Tests were so surprising ... for everyone.

- By God, not take it anymore! Be mercifu
l to me, understand me, I can’
t
endure this
anymore! Tell me, I implore you, whatever it is, tell me it ... at once!

- Carol, the evidence from test suggests that Harold is ... very sick ...

- God! What about it? - Carol was on the verge of hysteria,
s
he rose from her seat, but Thomas managed to retain her, approached her and decided to face her. -

- He has a brain tumor and a rare bone cancer in ... terminal state.

Carol dropped into the seat, covered her face with her handkerchief and began to mourn.

- No way! No way! Tell me ... is not true, tell me ...

- Unfortunately, it is. Metastasis is irreversible.

- But he was so fine
...

- Experts believe that kind of cancer is extremely aggressive although it had not given any notice to date.

- And it's not possible to do .... Tell me ... do not ...

  Thomas made a shake of his head as first tears appeared on his face.

- Nothing, we can't do anything, absolutely anything ... doctors have been clear.

- How long is it ...? ...

Thomas tried to compose himself before answering. He made a supreme effort and from his lips came the words that ended up massacring Carol.

- Three, four months ... maybe ... less ...

  Thomas did not want to reveal her the cruel and fleeting thought that happened at that moment for his head. He recalled the e
mergency meetings in the Party
against the unexpected situation arising, which had little or nothing to do with the most sensitive side of those present but with the most genuine self-interest. The dilemma was to decide between the possibility to move forward with the nomination of Harold or if it was essential to find an alternative, with the risks involved. There were disparate voices in the party, but both were forced to make a decision that they were avoiding at all costs. The initi
al pressures to doctors to get
that Harold goes ahead while he underwent in parallel with aggressive chemotherapy, were overwhelmed by the harsh reality: non
e of the experts consulted gave
him more than three months of life. Put another way: Harold would not reach the November elections. Whether he continued with his candidature could be inhuman in the eyes of citizens, made no sense. Finally won the criterion extended to treat Harold's disease with discretion and find another candidate. A stranger, Feaks, was proposed by a wing of the party and endorsed by Harold with the amazement of Thomas.

   Thomas approached Carol with two of the pills in his hand and urged she take them. Those tranquilizers would help her cope with her immense pain.

XV

With just take a look around, it was easy to draw the conclusion that Sheridan had lived like rats. Or even more, he had coexisted wit
h them. Calling
as lair to his
ramshackle,
lugubrious,
grimy,
dirty and unkempt apartment had been pretty the same that describing as cultured and refined gentleman to the famous pirate Blackbeard.

   That was the impression that Marvin perceived with just entering and it was ratified when thoroughly examined it, looking for any evidence, any clue that would allow him
to e
stablish a relationship between Sheridan and the case and a cause whereby he had been killed. But instead, he found only a few annotations that seemed to be irrelevant and a few dismantled books that did justice to the shelf on which they were located.

   He didn’
t realize that the owner, who had opened the door, stood there, without losing detail, until she felt herself with freedom enough to make an assessment.

- As you can see, he hadn't many possessions.

   Marvin turned to her, but ignored that comment.

- How long ago he lived here? - He asked -

- Almost a year, but I assure you that I hadn't renewed the contract.

  Marvin looked at her, hoping she would give him an explanation.

- I mean ... I'm sorry what
happened, no doubt, but Mr. Sheridan owed
me four months of rent - ended up pointing out -

- Did he have money problems?

- Yeah
!
At first he said that he
had a small capital, but you have
only to look around,
he
lived in poverty.

- Did you notice anything strange about his behavior?

- In the
end
I was sorry.
He was just a
n
old ma
n who had nowhere to drop dead.
No wonder
he were spent what little he had to drink.

-
Has he ever said something that attracted your attention?

- I always thought he was half crazy, spoke little,
but when he did, I had trouble
unde
rstanding him, he said nonsense
.

- Visits?

- Never. It seemed that he was hiding from somebody, he rarely went out.

- Have you ever seen anything special
that attracted your attention?
...

The owner became pensive, as if making a sublime effort to find something interesting to tell the agent. After a few seconds, Marvin could see a twinkle in his eyes, like holding the occurrence which would then tell.

- Well ... once called me his next door neighbor. She said that loud voices could
be
hear
d
from his apartment, as if arguing with someone. But when we approached the door, we realized that was not really arguing with anyone ... well, rather, he was doing it with himself. He said rare phrases, meaningless, as if a nightmare, I remember such things as "You'll not catch me" or "Without me, you will not get it"

Marvin, all delicately as he could
, dismissed the woman and close
d the door in order to continue his research. Sheridan had signed the lease without providing any documentation, apparently the owner had not cared much, and although he looked for it carefully, he couldn't found finally any document that let him to know his real identity.
He o
nly ended up finding something that caught his attention:
pictures of Sheridan,
certainly taken some years ago. He pocketed them and went out fast with intent to obtain more information.

  In the neighborhood knew him hardly anyone except the owner of the bar next door, which broke no new ground, as he did not more than confirm the opinion he had given the owner of the apartment.

  He tried to find his provenance or where he had been prior to landfall in that apartment, but it was impossible. He contrasted the photo with files of people who had disappeared in the last years, without success. Then he did it with the psychiatric clinics, obtaining the same result. It seemed as if that man had appeared from nowhere, as if it hadn't a past.

XVI