The Whisper Box (26 page)

They got in the car and went on their way. Aaron turned on CNN radio for two reasons: the constant news of Grant's death made him laugh and he was curious if there were any news on himself.

Turning on CNN was a mistake. A report came across CNN that there were three brutal murders in a cabin in New Jersey. The murders were all gunshot wounds to the head. There were fingerprints of the same man all over the cabin. His name was McFarland Hart III. Authorities up and down the East Coast were beginning to question if the two men they were searching for were related in any way or if it was just a coincidence.

There was no mention that he was the attorney for Laura Greene. There was no mention that he had had guns held to his head. No mention of the fact that he had always been a good upstanding citizen was made. They made him out to be a disgruntled attorney who must have flipped out under constant pressure from his field. There was manhunt being conducted up and down the East Coast for him that was in full swing. Farnsworth was coming to speak to New Jersey in two days as the next step in his 'Crusade For Peace' Tour.

Mac was fidgeting in the back seat. Aaron tapped Grant’s leg and looked into the back seat, waiting for him to explain, or scream, or at least show some sign of life.

Grant finally broke the silence. “Man oh man, once we get on the air today we have a lot of explaining to do. I guess I will not have to explain much about me, but I have a lot of explaining to do for you guys. Mac, I was telling Aaron before,” Grant was making eye contact with him in the back seat through the rear view mirror. “I want you guys on screen with me. I want you guys to almost handle it like I'm interviewing you so everyone can see that you are both normal people that were getting framed. Ya' know? I want America to hear you guys first because who knows what they are hearing in the police reports.”

“We will not be on the air if the police find us first. My fingerprints were everywhere in that cabin. I was there for two days. My fingerprints are all over all of the dead bodies too. Why is this happening? I'm gonna fry and I'm totally innocent.” Mac was holding his forehead staring at the black nylon that was partly coming detached from the interior roof.

“No one is going to fry. Why were your finger prints all over all the dead people?” Aaron was definitely more curious by the minute.

“I checked two of them for cell phones and guns after they were dead and the other guy was a long story. I held him and talked to him before I killed him. It's a long story.” Mac just continued holding his forehead.

Just then the talk show host on the AM radio show alerted listeners that there had been a late breaking story out of Cleveland, Ohio that was directly related to the previously reported murder. The wife of the man wanted in New Jersey was found dead about an hour ago. She was raped and beaten to death. She was stabbed thirty six times and she was dismembered. Her mother was also killed. The reporter went on to explain that McFarland Hart was the prime suspect in this murder as well and that the police were warning all civilians to stay in doors. The suspect was armed and dangerous.

Mac began to kick the back of the seat in front of him. He was clutching his head and screaming for mercy. Aaron and Grant just stared straight ahead. Once Mac's screams faded to faint cries Grant whispered, “I’m so sorry Mac. This is why we have to take this guy down. He's gonna' fry.”

The conversation ended there and drove for at least an hour. They allowed Mac his time to grieve in the back seat. It was a very awkward hour. Every five minutes Grant would stare at Aaron until he got his attention. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.

“OK guys, we need gas. Since I am bald and Aaron has blonde hair, we are going into the station to pay, buy snacks and newspapers. Mac, you look the same and I'm sure you'd like some time alone so why don't you stay behind?” asked Grant.

“I have to piss. Park the car near the side of the building. I'll walk back behind the building, do my thing and come right back to the car,” said Mac through tears.

“OK, but how about putting this hat on and keeping your head down?”

“Fine, whatever.” Mac would not make contact.

They pulled in to the Sunoco Gas -N-Snack. Grant pulled up to the gas pump and got out to pump the gas while Aaron and Mac waited in the car. Once the tank was full he got back in and drove to the front left of the building.

“OK guys, be quick. Grant get three sodas, chips and crap like that and then come right back to the car. Mac, go piss, then back to the car. Understood?” Aaron was in no mood for compromise. The murder of Mac's wife scared the hell out of him. His tone made it obvious. Both of them agreed simultaneously as they all exited the car.

Grant was the only one to see the cop car pull into the parking lot. It pulled in slowly as if the policemen were being cautious. The police loudspeaker on the roof of the car flared up scaring most people in the Gas -N-Snack. “Aaron Gallo!” Aaron jumped then flashed a helpless look to Grant. “You are under arrest. Raise your hands in the air and exit the store slowly!”

Aaron began to slowly walk out of the store. He made no more eye contact with Grant. He was confident that Grant knew what to do next. The more eye contact he made with him, the more likely it was that Grant would also be found out. Mac came walking around the side of the building zippering up his pants.

One of the two cops screamed at him. “Freeze! Holy shit Lieutenant, that's the other guy who killed the people in the cabin.”

The Lieutenant turned an eye toward the younger police officer and said, “Good job son.” He turned his attention to the two murder suspects now. “As for the both of you, I want your hands behind your head, I want you both to kneel down slowly. Are we understood?”

Aaron just shook his head up and down to assure the officers that he would not be a problem. He was, however, a bit worried about the less stable, McFarland Hart III. Mac began lowering his palms to the back of his head and slowly turn around. He was standing by the corner of the building with his zipper still down. He began to nod in agreement also just as he dashed off behind the Gas -N-Snack.

“I said freeze asshole!” The younger cop took off after Mac around the corner.

The lieutenant's gun never left Aaron, nor did the lieutenant even flinch. Mac went around the back of the building in a full sprint. He leaped over a bush and was right back in the woods again. He was running and crying at the same time. Aaron thought that he must have been begging for someone to kill him. He had finally gone insane. His body and mind could no longer hold up under the pressure. He saw Mac stop at the base of a sturdy oak tree. The young cop was still about fifty feet behind him, also in a sprint. To Aaron’s surprise, Mac began climbing the tree limb by limb. He was about twenty feet up when the young officer reached the base of the tree.

“Sir, I will shoot you out of this tree. Do not test me. Start climbing down the tree immediately!” The young cop pointed his gun at Mac.

“Don't worry. I will not harm you. I just want you to know that the dead people at the cabin were not my fault. Hopefully you'll understand soon. Just tell the media that they were not my fault. Tell them I had nothing to do with my poor, beautiful wife,” he called through tears.

Aaron scrunched up his face as he saw Mac reach for the gun in his jacket, raise it to his head, and pull the trigger.

His body came bouncing down through the branches. It almost looked like a huge rag doll getting smacked around on the way towards the ground. McFarland's body hit the ground with a loud thud. He was face down and bleeding. The young officer held his gun pointed at Mac in his right hand. He straddled his body and turned Mac over with his left hand. He radioed for help with his shoulder mounted transceiver and then called out for help to the Lieutenant handcuffing Aaron in the front of the store.

McFarland Hart's life on the run had come to an end.

The Lieutenant, who had just finished handcuffing Aaron and placing him in the back of the car, went running to see if his young partner was all right. He was screaming for his partner the entire time. Aaron knew what happened. He did not have to see it. He knew Mac was suicidal. He got Grant's attention inside the store by shaking his handcuffed hands wildly. The movement caught the corner of Grant's peripheral vision. When they made eye contact Aaron nodded his head towards their yellow CRX. He was telling Grant to get the hell out of there. Grant took his belongings, laid a fifty-dollar bill on the counter and left. He, too, knew that Mac was dead without having to confirm anything.

The Lieutenant got back in the car and said nothing to Aaron. He got on his transceiver and radioed the dispatcher back at headquarters. “This is Lieutenant Patel, I am at the Snack -N-Gas off of exit 142. We have a suspect down with an officer on the scene. I am on my way back to base with another suspect. Note that they are the two murder suspects, Gallo and Hart. Hart shot himself at the gas station and Gallo is in my custody.”

The dispatcher responded. “We have three cars and an ambulance on the way Lieutenant.”

Aaron spoke when the lieutenant was finished. “Sir, I know that you are doing your job, and I respect that. I will give you no trouble lieutenant, I promise. I also understand that I have the right to remain silent but I feel that I have to tell you some things. Is that OK?”

The Lieutenant stuttered then nodded. “Umm, go ahead. What is it you have to tell me?”

“Sir, I know how this looks but you have to understand that I did not kill that woman in North Carolina, nor was I ever romantically involved with her. It is true that I have broken some laws in the last few days but they were only broken after I was shot at. I broke some laws in desperation. I was trying to stay alive. I swear sir; you will see in the course of the next twenty-four hours that every word of what I am telling you is true. So I just ask that you treat me with respect also until someone can prove my guilt. I will take lie detector tests; anything you request, but understand that I am a good person and not a cold hearted murderer.”

“I treat everyone with respect. I will treat you the same way provided you cause no trouble. I am sorry about your friend back there. He shot himself. He is dead.”

“I figured so much, to add a little more confusion to this. He is not my friend I met him for the first time this morning. I know that sounds like a lie also considering we are both wanted for murder, but I promise it all makes sense. Not that it matters now, but that guy was in the same shoes as me. He killed people that shot at him first, the same people that raped and murdered his wife. He was innocent. I swear to you this will all come out in the wash soon enough.”

“OK, as they say in the movies, tell it to the judge.” Lieutenant Patel was acting cordial, yet cold.

Aaron nodded in agreement. “Is there anyway you can get me a court appointed attorney once you have booked me?”

“Sure. I do have to do fingerprints and photos and some paperwork first, but you have my word, I will get you an attorney after that is over. Understand that I was present when your friend shot himself so I have a lot more paperwork than normal, but you can trust me, I'll get you one.”

When they arrived at the police station Lieutenant Patel exited the vehicle. He walked around the back of the vehicle to Aaron's door. He held his head down so it did not hit he top of the door jam. When Aaron was out he heard a small crowd of people yelling. He looked up and saw a crowd of about fifteen people with microphones and cameras running towards him. He almost threw up as his nerves were sent into frenzy. There was calmness though, amongst all the madness, because he trusted Grant. He asked Lieutenant Patel to protect him from all this. The lieutenant just told him to keep looking at the ground and he would lead the way. Reporters were screaming questions at him as if they were expecting him to stop and hold a press conference.

“Were you sleeping with her?” screamed one reporter.

“Why did you murder her?” screamed another.

“Are you responsible for the men in the cabin in New Jersey?” yelled the next.

This was Aaron's worst nightmare come true. What was to happen if Grant were killed? He would be charged with all of these murders. Mac was already dead and could not testify. He would go to the electric chair. He would die with his wife thinking he was having an affair. He began to wish that he were dead.

Lieutenant Patel guided Aaron through the crowd and into the police station. There was a crowd of about nine police officers waiting to greet him. When he entered the room they began to clap for him. He waved them off and told them to stop. Aaron truly believed that this veteran of the force knew good from bad. He politely guided Aaron through the booking process.

Aaron was then brought to his changing room where he was given an orange jump suit. The Lieutenant brought him to his cell. The cell was a holding cell used for at least twelve men at a time. There were only two men in there at this time. The Lieutenant told Aaron he would be back in about an hour to give him some direction as to who the court would appoint to him as an attorney.

Aaron looked at the cell. It was about twenty feet by twenty feet. The walls were painted green. They had obviously been painted over and over because you could see graffiti scratched into the wall everywhere that had been painted over. The odor was horrendous. Aaron could not tell if the odor was coming from his two new roommates or the cell. There was gum stuck to everything. It was under the bench seating that extended out from the wall. There was gum on the wall, and on the side of the toilet. Both men in the cell were now staring at him.

Aaron sat down on the far side of the cell away from the two men. He was silently hoping they would stay where they were. He was terrified. One leaned over and whispered something to the other. Neither of them ever took their eyes off of Aaron. The bigger of the two started to laugh. The deep cackle was not the sound of friendly laughter. Aaron knew there was going to be trouble soon. He stood up and walked towards the cell's entrance. Out of the corner of his eye he saw an empty hallway.

Both inmates were now standing and walking towards him. “Hey there big fella. You the boy that killed that defenseless girl in North Carolina?”

“Oh shit guys, is that what this is about? No, I swear I did not kill that girl. You'll see by the end of today or tomorrow morning that it was not me.” Aaron knew this approach would not work but those were the words that came out of his mouth under such pressure.

The bigger of the two men started to howl in laughter.

Aaron asked, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Oh yeah man, I believe you.” He looked around to make sure there were still no police around. “As a matter of fact I know it wasn’t you. You know how I know that, dickhead?”

Aaron's eyes were wide open, “No, how?”

“Because I killed her. Ya' see, I could have killed you right then and there on the way to the airport. But we figured why just shoot you? We could frame you. I mean hell your prints were all over her car. They were in her room. Shit man, you even left your wedding band there you dipshit! It was the perfect set up. Then, to really screw yourself to a wall, you hug her good-bye at the airport. Now your prints are on her too.” The big man was shaking his head from side to side. “Why kill you when we can frame you for murder, have you sent to prison for life, and have some of our acquaintances on the inside make you their bitch for life? We've already told Doctor Villamandé that you're coming. We figure that you deserve it after the hell you've put us and our boss through for the last week.”

Aaron was in complete shock. He was just staring at the men. All he could mutter was, “Who's Doctor Villamandé?”

The man turned to his friend and smiled, “Doctor Villamandé was a doctor out West. He was one of them doctors with some bullshit degree, ya' know? He had a coupla' years of schooling; no real med school or anything. Seems that patients of his were complaining for years about back problems after he treated them. Turns out he was putting them under, ya' know, putting them to sleep and raping 'em. They were all men. He was stickin' it to all his male patients. He raped thirty of them in twenty-five years. He owes our boss a favor or two, so you can be his chance to pay us back. He'll love your little ass, he'll tear it up, boy.”

Aaron stared numbly, “You keep saying the words ‘us’ and ‘we’. Let's be honest guys, since I'm assuming you've already decided to kick my ass, who's ‘us’? I still can't believe that Farnsworth is behind....”

Just then the bigger man's knuckles connected with Aaron's jaw. Aaron could actually feel two molars on the right side of his mouth dislodge from the jaw. He could taste the blood running down his throat. Just after the left hook to the jaw came a straight jab to the nose. His nose made a crunching sound that Aaron never cared to hear again. He could taste more blood dripping across his upper lip into his mouth. He felt another left hook and then a crushing blow to his rib cage. He had no idea if one man was doing this to him or both. His eyes were shut as he was falling to the floor. He tried to scream for help but the constant wind being kicked out of his lungs with each boot to the chest prevented it.

Aaron's face was almost numb now so the punches did not hurt as much. The men finished up quickly. The spokesperson knelt down next to Aaron and whispered words Aaron would never forget. “Trust me asshole, you are going to go to prison for that murder. If you ever open your mouth about what has happened and what you know, we will hear. I know too many people on the inside. You keep your mouth shut or I swear I will make sure the biggest, baddest, mother fucker in there loves you every night, if you know what I mean.”

The men called for the Lieutenant Patel. Patel unlocked the door to the cell and let the two men out. They walked away giggling at Aaron. Patel just stood still looking at Aaron. “Sometimes it's better to not get involved in things son. Sometimes we should just keep our mouth shut.” With those words Lieutenant Patel walked away too.

Aaron lied there on the floor spitting out teeth and blood for ten minutes. He coughed up blood and phlegm. His ribs were cracked in three places and his jaw was broken. He could not believe the situation he was in. One part of him wanted to extract such brutal revenge that he swore he could have broken out of prison; the other part of him wanted to break down in tears and cry.

President Farnsworth was sitting in his private office on Air Force One now. He was scared to death. He was a symbol of granite to the American people, but on the inside he felt like a feeble little man who was scared to make a decision on his own in fear that it would ruin him. The phone rang twice before he answered it. The big man from the jail cell told Farnsworth that everything was fine. Farnsworth did not speak on the phone; he just hung up. This was the end of the closest brush with defeat he had ever taken. Grant was dead in the plane crash, Mac shot himself from the pressure and Aaron would be killed in jail. He sat there thinking about his career, his wife and his future. He smiled, lit a cigar and turned in his black leather swivel chair to look out the window onto the runway.

Grant drove up the street and immediately turned back onto the highway. Within the first three miles he saw a 'REST AREA' sign. The next rest area was eight miles ahead. He would go there and figure out what to do next. He could hardly drive as his thoughts were far from operating a vehicle. He checked the back seat about five times to make sure that he saw all of the tapes. They were there along with the cell phone Mac stole from the dead man in the basement. He said a small prayer to himself for McFarland Hart III and kept driving to the rest area.

Grant pulled onto the exit ramp and into the rest area. He was as far away from the crowd as possible. He twisted around towards the back seat and grabbed Mac's bag of tapes and his new cell phone. He sat there reading the labels on each tape. He put the one marked 'Sex and Murder' into his cassette player in his CRX. He could hear nothing but muffled voices until he made out a woman moaning in the background. As the moaning calmed down he could hear Farnsworth tell her to keep her mouth shut and put her clothes back on. He then proceeded to tell the woman that their affair had to be over. She obviously disagreed and began to cry. Then the voices were muffled again. When the clarity of the audio returned Grant could hear Farnsworth telling someone on the phone to get rid of her. He even mentioned her name: Christine Summer.

Grant remembered when Clint Summer's wife was found dead off the side of the road. He remembered it because he was covering the President's trip to the funeral. The connection was made almost immediately. Christine Summer was found off the side of the road, as was Becky Welsh. This serial killer was showing a pattern. This would only help his friend Aaron get off of these ludicrous murder charges.

Grant put more tapes in. He heard Farnsworth telling someone named Rico to get the job done. There was to be a drop off in Miami of four million dollars worth of cocaine. Farnsworth actually told Rico that, “.... it was good for the country. All good countries need some drug addicts to create poverty. Think about it Rico my man, if there was no poverty there would be no crime. If there was no crime there would be no need for most government employees.” Farnsworth told Rico that the police in Miami would 'look the other way' with one phone call. The funds forwarded into Rico's account would be in excess of one hundred thousand dollars. The voices were muffled again.

Grant listened over and over to several tapes. A lot of people were going to take a fall for this. There were requests and orders for sex. There were comments made about hookers. There were the orders to get rid of an old fraternity brother of his or, at the very least, to frame him. He heard orders to 'take care of' a dozen people in total. The tapes were what Grant had been searching for his entire career.