Nightrise (14 page)

Alicia glanced at Jamie. He nodded back. The senator and his former assistant walked off together.

There was a sitting room next to the conference center. Jamie watched the two of them go in. They shut the door behind them. None of the campaign workers left the table. They just went on working as they had before. The Irish man came over. "Can I get you a drink, young man?" he asked.

"Do you have a Coke?"

"Sure. Why don't you sit down on the couch and make yourself at home."

Jamie did as he was told, glad to be out of the way. There was a plasma TV turned on in the corner but it had the sound turned down, and anyway it was tuned in to a news station. Patrick returned with a Coke and Jamie drank it slowly, wondering how long Alicia would be. John Trelawny had said ten minutes but it seemed to him that much time had already passed.

At last the door opened and Trelawny appeared again. "Michael," he said, addressing one of the men in the room, "can you get me the file on Nightrise?" He turned to Jamie. "I'd like to have a word."

Jamie got up and went in. He was aware of the campaign workers glancing at him with curiosity. They were working on a major speech. Why was this teenager taking up so much of their boss's time? The man named Michael had snatched up a thick folder and handed it to Trelawny, who nodded his thanks.

Jamie followed Trelawny into the second room, closing the door behind him.

Alicia was sitting on a sofa but Jamie was directed to an empty chair as if the senator wanted to keep them both apart. Trelawny stood by the door, gathering his thoughts, then he put down the folder and moved into the room.

"Alicia has just told me the strangest story I've ever heard in my life," he began. "If I didn't know her well, I'd have already told her to leave. In fact, even now I have to ask myself if she isn't in some way disturbed. I don't mean that cruelly. After everything that's happened to her, the loss of her son, I'd understand. But she tells me that you have also lost someone — a brother. Scott. That he was taken from a theatre in Reno…is that right?"

Jamie nodded. He knew what was coming.

"According to Alicia, the people who took Scott may be the same people who took Daniel. And the reason they're interested in you, she says, is because you have an extraordinary ability. You can read people's thoughts. My thoughts, for example."

"I'm sorry, Jamie," Alicia muttered.

"That's okay." Jamie had guessed what he was going to have to do, but this time he wasn't worried.

Everything about Senator Trelawny, even the way he spoke, made him feel comfortable. He wouldn't be the same as Colton Banes. He didn't live in the same world.

"I try to keep an open mind," Trelawny went on. "And I'd be the first to admit that there are plenty of things in this world that can't be explained. But this…" He shook his head, doubtfully. "Anyway, this should be fairly simple. Alicia suggested to me that I put you to the test. Do you mind?"

"No, sir." Jamie was ready.

"Very well." Trelawny gestured at a low table in front of the sofa. There was a plain, wooden box, about the size of a cigarette packet, placed in the middle. "My wife gave me that," he said. "I carry it with me wherever I go. Alicia doesn't know what's in it. I haven't ever told her. But she says you can tell me."

Jamie concentrated for a moment. Then he looked Trelawny straight in the eyes. "There's nothing inside the box," he said. "It's empty."

Trelawny didn't give anything away. But Alicia could feel a sudden tension in the room.

'Your wife made it," Jamie went on. "She likes working with wood. Her name is Grace. You keep things in it when you go to bed. Cufflinks and stuff like that. Right now it's difficult to tell you more because all you're thinking about is the election. It's weird…"

"Go on."

"Well, I was going to say, you're really scared of losing. But what's strange is, you're even more scared of winning."

There was a silence. Trelawny stood where he was, so still that he was barely breathing. At last he let out a long breath. 'You have an extraordinary talent," he said. "I won't call it a gift — because perhaps it isn't. I can't imagine what it must be like for you…to have this ability."

"I don't use it," Jamie said. "I don't want it."

"Nobody but me has ever looked inside this box," Trelawny said. "It travels with me when I'm on the road. I've never told anyone who made it." He went over to the table and picked it up, opened it, and showed it to Alicia. There was nothing inside.

"Alicia has suggested that I should launch a full-scale investigation into the Nightrise Corporation," he said. "But as it happens, I've already started." He went over to the folder and opened it. "This is just the tip of the iceberg. Let me tell you a little bit about them. And then I'll tell you why, right now, there's nothing I can do."

He sat down.

"I don't believe all big business is bad," he began. "But Nightrise is very big and they seem to take pride in being as bad as they can get away with. The trouble with this country is that we're all too ready to turn a blind eye to crimes committed in the name of business. A factory burns down and twenty workers are killed. A tank leaks and a whole river system gets polluted. A weapons systems is sold abroad and ends up being used against American soldiers. Nobody notices — and you know why? Because profit is all that matters. Profit is king. These companies are making huge profits and employing tens of thousands of people. So we let them get away with murder.

"I first heard about Nightrise about six months ago." He produced a clipping, cut out of a newspaper.

"This was sent to me by a friend. He thought I might be interested in the story of a twelve-year-old child working in a toy factory in Indonesia who got burned by one of the machines and died. The kid had been working ten hours a day for twenty cents an hour and he was exhausted. I call that murder. He was making parts for a shooting game and the company that employed him just happened to be fully owned by Nightrise. But did they pay any compensation? Did they care? Of course not. And you could buy that toy in any mall in America…"

'You said there's nothing you can do," Jamie cut in.

"Here's why." Trelawny frowned. "The current vice president and the chief of staff both used to work for Nightrise before they went into politics. When they leave the White House, whoever wins the next election, they'll go back on the board. Nightrise has about three hundred companies all around the world and many of them do work for the U.S. government. There's one that manufactures bombs. The bombs are dropped. Then there's another one that's hired to rebuild the cities that the bombs destroyed. You see what I mean? Business and politics go hand in hand.

"And just to make matters worse, Nightrise is supporting Charles Baker in the presidential election. In fact, they're one of his main sponsors. They've channeled millions of dollars in his direction. They have to be clever about how they do it. There are laws about donating money to political causes. But there are dozens of independent organizations and little groups fighting against me, and although they don't seem to be connected, we're pretty sure that Nightrise is bankrolling the whole lot of them. But I've got no proof, Jamie. They've been too careful. And if I start making accusations, it'll just make me look like a sore loser…at least, I'll look like I'm afraid of losing, and that won't help anyone."

"So what can you do?"

"I have to wait and hope I win. If I become president of this country — and I believe that there's a very good chance of that happening — I want to make it my first priority to fight corruption in business, and I mean to make a start with Nightrise."

"We can't wait," Jamie said. "They're hurting Scott."

"How do you know?"

"I just know."

"Hold on," Alicia said. She reached into her handbag and took out a sheet of paper. "Thanks to Jamie, we managed to find out that Scott may be being held in a place called Silent Creek. I checked it out on the Internet. Silent Creek is a prison, a youth correctional facility, out in the Mojave Desert. It's the only privately run prison in Nevada. And it's owned by Nightrise."

"Scott's there," Jamie said.

"We think Scott is there. And we think Daniel could be there too." Alicia sighed. "It makes sense. If you wanted to hold a bunch of kids somewhere nobody could find them, somewhere out of the way, a prison in the desert would be perfect. Can you go in there, Senator? Could you get the police to raid it?"

"I could try." Trelawny thought for a moment, then shook his head. "But it wouldn't be easy. First of all, I've got no real proof that there's anything wrong going on there. I haven't even heard of Silent Creek —

and if it's in Nevada, it isn't even in my jurisdiction. And finally, if I did make enough noise to get an investigation started, the prison supervisor would hear about it before we got anywhere near. If those two boys were there, there'd be all the time in the world to move them someplace else. Or worse."

Alicia nodded. She had been expecting this. 'You may be right," she said. "But we have another thought."

"I could go in there," Jamie said.

"Go in there…how?"

'You must know people," Alicia said. "Suppose Jamie were to become one of the inmates. With a false name. A judge could send him there with another bunch of juveniles. Once he was inside Silent Creek, he could find out if Scott and Daniel are there and get a message to me. Maybe he could even help to get them out."

"How would he do that?"

"There are things I can do," Jamie explained. "Things you don't know about."

"I know you want to take these people on in your own time, Senator," Alicia said. "But we don't have any time. We have to do something now."

There was a knock at the door, and without waiting for an answer, Warren Cornfield burst in. Trelawny's security chief was looking furious. He stood framed in the doorway, which was almost his own size.

"Excuse me, sir," he said. "I'm sorry to break in…"

"What is it, Warren?" Trelawny asked. He didn't seem concerned.

"Sir, that woman has lied to me." His finger jabbed in Alicia's direction. "That boy she's brought to see you, I think you should know that his name is not David. I thought I recognized him and now I know who he is. His name is Jamie Tyler and he is a wanted felon."

"Alicia has already told me who he is," Trelawny replied.

"She has?" Cornfield was taken aback. "Sir, the Nevada police are actively looking for this child. He's wanted for first-degree murder. If you let him leave here, if anyone finds out that he's even been in the same room as you, he could destroy your entire campaign."

"Come in, Warren. And shut the door behind you."

The security man did as he was told. Trelawny waited until he had calmed down.

"Have you called the police?" Trelawny asked.

"No, sir. Not yet."

"That's good. Let's leave it that way." Trelawny turned to Alicia. "You'd better leave," he said. "But give me your cell number and I'll get in touch. It should be possible to arrange what you've asked. I have friends…" He went over to Jamie and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I won't forget meeting you," he said.

"And what you said, about winning the election, you're absolutely right." He smiled. "I hope you find your brother."

"Sir…" Warren Cornfield couldn't believe what he was seeing. "These two people should be in jail."

"It's okay, Warren. I think I know what I'm doing. I want you to show my guests out. Don't arrest them.

Don't call the police. Make sure nobody gets in their way."

"Whatever you say, sir."

Cornfield was still scowling as he showed them to the door. At the last moment, Jamie turned around and took one last look at the man who might become president. He had picked up the little box and was holding it with a sort of wonderment, as if he too could somehow look through the wooden surface and uncover the secrets locked inside. Then the door closed. Jamie didn't think he would see him again.

***

Scott Tyler didn't know how long he had been here. Nor did he know where "here" was or how he had gotten there.

He was lying on a bed. To begin with, there had been handcuffs around his wrists and shackles On his ankles, but now they had no further need of them. He was too weak to move. If he had been able to examine himself, he would have seen he was still in the same clothes that he had been wearing at the theatre, although the shirt had been ripped open and the pants were crumpled and torn. Not that he remembered the theatre anymore or anything that happened on the night he was seized. A very large part of his memory had been taken away from him. The drugs dripping into his right arm had done that. The doses had been carefully monitored, the injections exactly timed. They didn't want to kill him or to drive him mad. Their aim was more complicated than that. They wanted to tear him away from the life he had been living and leave him floating helplessly until he was ready to be made theirs.

He hadn't eaten for three days and they had barely brought him enough water to keep him alive. Nor had he slept. Every time his eyes closed, they would bombard the room with a barrage of sound, drumbeats, music, machine-gun fire. The lights were kept on all the time. Right now it could have been the middle of the day or the night. It made no difference. Scott was barely conscious. And he was ready for the next stage.

The door opened. Scott didn't even try to look up to see who had come in. He was afraid to do anything without being told. There was a rustle of fabric as someone sat down. He smelled a scent, some sort of flower. Trembling, he turned his head and saw that a woman had come in and sat down in the chair next to him. She was looking at him as if unsure what to make of him. Or maybe she was deciding what to do next.

She lifted a hand. Scott saw that she wore several rings. For a moment, two of her fingers rested on his arm. "What have they done to you?" She spoke for the first time. Her voice was soft and almost musical.

'You poor boy," she went on. "I'd have come sooner if only I'd known but, you see, it is so difficult for me. I want to be your friend. But I have to know that you trust me. You have to be on my side."