Of Dishonor: A Look into the Heart of Man

By Mel Month

From Mel Month, author of Dreams and Shadows and Deterrence, comes Of Dishonor, an epic tale of three families ruled and often ruined by ambition, lust, arrogance, the quest for powerand the inescapable price of hubris.

Justine is an alluring, dark-haired beauty from a powerful family. But after a summer of passion with a battle-scarred soldier, she allows herself to be imprisoned by her love for him.

Scotts charisma, intelligence, and looks have served him well. As a new senator, his moral compass and conscience are quickly and persistently challenged by those who would own him. Unable to escape his own past, he falls prey to a pair of assassins. Spellbound, he submits to their evil bidding.

Laura is a modern-day Southern belle. Stronger than her feminine and deceptively vulnerable beauty might suggest, she has never lacked for male admirers. When Charles, a handsome playboy, struts out of the waves off Miami Beach to claim her, their lives will never be the same again.

Alan, born to privilege, strives to rise above his criminal past. Fueled by both ambition and pride, he risks it all to enter the vicious world of professional politics.

Charles, despite his massive wealth, is alone. Haunted by an ancestral evil, he tries to wipe the slate clean. In a cruel twist of fate, he steps into the shoes of a killer.

Within the hearts of all, a mystery remains.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504908795

Mel Month

Mel Month is a research scientist, management specialist, community organizer, and educator with a PhD in physics and an MBA. In retirement, he realized his lifelong dream to write. He is the author of a technical nonfiction book, and to date, four novels. He resides in Stony Brook, New York.

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Of Dishonor

A Look Into the Heart of Man

A Novel

Mel Month

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AuthorHouse™

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© 2015 Mel Month. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/17/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-0880-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-0881-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-0879-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015906323

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1 Using Science

Chapter 2 Searching For Yourself

Chapter 3 The Gray Zone

Chapter 4 The Reckoning

Chapter 5 Gathering Puzzle Pieces

Chapter 6 The Quality of Mercy is not Strained

Chapter 7 Impact

Chapter 8 A Ghostly Presence

Chapter 9 Ambitions and Vows

Chapter 10 Till Death Us Do Part

Chapter 11 What Evil Lurks in the Hearts of Men

Chapter 12 Always More than Meets the Eye

Chapter 13 As the World Turns

Chapter 14 To Be or Not To Be

Chapter 15 So Suddenly Comes the Moment

Chapter 16 Life Goes On

To my wonderful wife, Christine, for the inspiration she gave me, for her encouragement, for her patience and humor, and for the many little things she taught me about writing.

To my sons

Steve and Hal

Of Dishonor

If a man be free in paradise,

If he want not for material things,

And if he doth love freely,

Shall he not be fulfilled?

Shall he not be a good man?

Shall he not abide and obey God’s commandments?

Nay! Sayeth the Infernal Serpent,

There shall be evil in the heart of man,

And it shall insinuate into his nature,

And it shall spread o’er the land,

And such shall be the lot of men.

And if a sinner doth repent his transgressions,

Shall he not be forgiven?

Shall not Our Lord take him unto His bosom?

Yea! Sayeth the Lord

And He decrees that this shall be so,

For our Lord is good,

And the sinner’s eternal soul shall reside with Him in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Chapter 1

Using Science

Three Generations of Winston Men

Born in 1937, Marcus Winston was a late depression baby. Contrary to the mass of the unfortunate, he fell right into the lap of luxury. His father Joseph was a banker and real estate investor who made out like a bandit in those hard times. Joseph made his fortune in New York City, the center of the financial universe, but when President Roosevelt executed a large-scale shift of power to government, he moved his family to Washington where the action was. With land and property prices low, he obtained a multi-acre estate in Georgetown for a pittance and, after gutting the existing structure while retaining its frame of Republican Architecture, he built a gloriously lavish mansion that virtually exuded taste and wealth. This is the backdrop that Marcus grew up in. Although his father was demanding and rarely complimented him, his mother Elizabeth more than made up for his father’s seemingly cold reserve. She always encouraged her only son and loved him with unusual tenderness, while Marcus saw her as beauty unsurpassable. He got the best education money could buy, private schools, Princeton, where he majored in political science and economics, and then Harvard’s Graduate School of Public Administration, which became the Kennedy School of Government prior to his graduation. In these years of his development, he came to see less and less of his ever traveling father, but he always remained very proud of his old man whom he considered to be a big-league industrial magnate chummy with Senators and Presidents notably Eisenhower and Lyndon Johnson.

Marcus followed in his father’s footsteps. He took over the management of the Georgetown estate and became a financier and power player in the old style. During the brief Kennedy era he met Janis de Montmorency at a debutante ball and almost immediately they became sweethearts. They married in the mid sixties and had a son, Alan, who turned out to be their only child. Unfortunately, as Alan grew, he seemed unable to live up to his father’s hopes for him. Power was just not his game. But, despite his not being a natural political man, he kept up the family tradition of studying at Princeton and receiving a degree in science and economics. Moving on to the State University of New York at Stony Brook, he earned a doctorate in Physics. When he graduated in the nineties, his father recognized that his son presented a problem. Marcus, a deliberate and decisive man, found himself at a loss with regard to his son’s future. He knew that after his death, Alan would inherit a lot of money and he was afraid that his only son could end up a playboy or worse, a ne’er do well. After much consideration, he came to a decision, a rather ingenious one. He would establish a foundation with the purpose of working toward the sustaining of a clean, nonpolluting environment for America. The bulk of his fortune would go into the foundation, with Alan slated to be its Chief Administrator and a wealthy man. In the meantime, Marcus would create a small company for Alan to run. When he told him of his plan, the young man became very excited and with his father’s money set out to build a business. And a thrilling venture this came to be.

As it turned out, his father’s foresight was right on target and Alan thrived in the life Marcus had envisioned for him. And it didn’t stop with the business. Along the way, Marcus, being a mover and shaker, came across many men of the high and mighty class. One was an industrialist, George Connolly, who made it big in defense R&D and production and later became even bigger trading in the currency market. Their association in business ventures grew into a close personal friendship and one evening while indulging their penchant for good scotch arrived at an unlikely deal. They would attempt to kindle a family merger. George had a daughter just a little younger than Alan. Inheriting her mother’s Spanish roots, Tina was a dark beauty, full of passion, and her character was rounded out with wit, confidence and a brightness that glowed. What a great match Alan and Tina would make, they concluded in their alcoholic haze. Never mind the liquor that initiated the notion, here were men who expected to come up with good ideas and to make them happen. So, on that evening, destiny took the wheel. A family dinner was arranged at George’s estate and, as soon as the matchups laid eyes on each other, their love was manifest, bristling in the air between them. They danced the night away as a Nor’easter dumped a foot of snow on Washington in the winter of nineteen ninety. When spring came, the dance continued during an extravagantly wonderful wedding where the families congratulated each other on crafting this union made in heaven. The couple chose to live in Washington’s fashionable Virginia suburbs in an elegant old colonial southwest of Arlington just a quarter of an hour’s drive to Alan’s K Street office along Highway 50. And so, as the 20th century was coming to an end, the Winstons, Alan and Tina, were firmly established as a family to reckon with, she a grand hostess, he a wealthy rational business man, and with the benefit of names that opened doors, they were favored with preferential prospects.

As companies go, the one Alan built was a Limited Liability Company (LLC) that he named Climate Solutions (CS). He started with a dozen scientists, engineers and economists working at the office site on K St just west of 19th St. He developed a suite of offices equipped with the latest information technology where climate data from around the world could be picked up and processed. The collection and compilation of the information allowed CS to portray a picture of local and global climate over time and to extrapolate the results that might be expected in the future. To this end, the company requested and received grants from the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) as well as from corporations involved in the emerging Green technology enterprise. In its consulting capacity, Alan’s company advised its clients on potential energy technology needs and preferred economic policy. As part of the company’s purpose, it also invested in Green technologies and, as the years passed and the 21st century was ushered in, CS came to prosper far beyond what Alan’s father had imagined. It began to appear that Marcus Winston’s investment in his son would become, like all his other investments, extremely lucrative. And so it was that fortune smiled on Alan as one success after another piled up and the money kept rolling in.

Life at home for the young Winstons was also auspicious. Not only was their lovemaking punctuated with zest and ingenuity but they were in love and genuinely liked and cared for each other. About a year after the wedding, Justine arrived and a year and a half later they were favored with a son, Holden, to carry on the Winston name. Gina, as they came to call their daughter, was a perfect baby, good-natured, sleeping peacefully most of the time and when awake always ready with a smile that accentuated her bright green eyes and hinted at the beauty she was to become. Holden, on the other hand, was different, finicky and seemingly unable to be satisfied, always demanding attention and getting it. Nevertheless, nothing the children did or were could stop the up and coming Winstons. While seamlessly furthering their ambitions, they built a family effortlessly. Without skipping a beat, they brought up their children to respect the luxury and position they were born into as well as the learning and power that were placed within their grasp. All in all, Tina and Alan never questioned their right and destiny to rise in the world nor their duty to take their children with them.

A Politico Is Born

There is something romantic about being a southerner and Laura Harkin née Faulkner made the most of it. She had a touch of the Scarlett O’Hara in her and just the sight of her evoked a feeling of yearning in men. But don’t let her frail appearance and silky white skin fool you. She was strong in mind and under that silky skin she had a tight muscular body. Still, her look had that certain air of feminine vulnerability that in men brought out the urge to protect and in women a competitive jealousy. Sure, her husband was aware of this attribute she had but Scott Harkin was a poised, self-assured young man and though proud and possessive of his trophy he trusted her implicitly. From the moment they laid eyes on each other they were in love and married in the summer of 1990 in her father’s southern-style mansion on the outskirts of Atlanta. Her beau, a northerner from the Rockies, was not very appealing to Jasper Faulkner at first but Scott’s intelligence, ambition and personable nature quickly won her old man over. More specifically, the worldly Jasper sensed a politician in the young man and his assessment proved to be quite right, for soon after the marriage, Scott was elected to the US House of Representatives in the midterm election and four years later became the Junior Senator from North Dakota, swept in on the tide of the Newt Gingrich led 1994 great Republican victory. Popsy, as Laura lovingly called her dad, did his part by setting the couple up in a southern style colonial in Arlington just outside Washington. Set on a multi-acre estate, the house, more a mansion, had in excess of two dozen rooms and was surrounded by an extensive wooded area made to order for exploring nature, just right for the grandchildren he was eager for. Laura and Scott were of much the same mind and early in their marriage, Popsy was blessed with two little ones, a boy, Brett, coming first, followed two years later by a girl, Kristin Heather. With wealth and health performing their combined magic, all was right with the Harkin family. While Scott focused on his career, Laura controlled the home front. She was a light-haired beauty with friends galore. Everything seemed to go her way. People flocked to her like bees to the honey queen. She had an adoring and ardently amorous husband and well-adjusted popular children who seemed to grow and learn without any apparent snags. Laura was happy during these early years and her graceful demeanor and joy for living were infectious. She was the guiding light of her thriving family.

Scott, handsome, smart, charismatic and persuasive, rose meteorically and by the end of his first term was an important member of the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee. As a member of the Senate, you’re invited to join the club governed by seniority and rules, the primary rule being you-scratch-my-back-and-I’ll-scratch-yours. True, you bring knowledge and inside information to the table but what you have of utmost importance is your vote. This horse trading of votes is a subtle business. There’s so much to keep in mind – relations with the press, your reputation, your constituents back home and perhaps even your self-respect. Right from the start, this intricate process was an advantage for Scott. With his rare combination of powerful oratory, easy talk, position flexibility and an unparalleled ability to be discreet, he came to be a firebrand at deal-making. And over the years, his influence among his colleagues grew and he amassed an enviable number of earmarks for his state.

It was toward the end of Scott’s first term as Senator that he came to appreciate the potential rewards to be reaped from the growing Green Revolution. He had become friendly with a successful entrepreneur, Harvey Stillman. In the mid nineties, Harvey began building turbines for engines and generators. The man had smarts, a great sense of timing and ingenious ideas for development with the result that sales soared. So, it was no surprise that soon it came time to branch out. One day – Scott always recalled it was a snowy January day in the final year of the 20th century – Harvey telephoned and suggested they have dinner together. Scott was delighted. Harvey chose a little specialty restaurant serving only Peking Duck. It was located on Wisconsin Avenue not far from Georgetown University. There they could enjoy privacy, a tasty dinner and a wonderful time together. They talked nonstop and drank a lot of martinis. Good thing they used taxis. But most memorable of all that evening was the idea Harvey came up with. Without much fanfare he announced that he wanted to establish a consulting company to study new energy directions. He already had a burgeoning manufacturing enterprise and thought the new one would be an excellent complement. I’ll locate the two firms adjacent to each other in Bismarck, he said. How about it, Scott? Can you come up with some startup money to get me going? Scott couldn’t have dreamt up a more perfect setup. He was up for reelection the following year and was looking for goodies he could provide for North Dakota to ignite his campaign. This crass reasoning almost certainly crossed his mind as well as Harvey’s. But what did being a little opportunistic matter? The truth was that the time for development of new energy sources for America was at hand. This was big time stuff and Scott wanted to be part of it. Everything about the project spelled out, yes, go for it, and he did. In the end, both men got what they wanted. Harvey got his new company and Scott was reelected. Actually, this wasn’t the first time Scott stepped in to ensure grants for Harvey. The Stillman conglomerate of companies had a variety of contracts with the federal government, mostly in the defense area and mostly courtesy of Scott’s interventions, but this case was different. It was at the new energy frontier, and this time Scott was deeply involved, not only Scott the Senator but Scott the man, the ambitious man.

Climbing the Green Slopes

It was in the nineteen-nineties that the Green Power game began picking up steam, though early on, only a few were capable of understanding that an expansion was at hand and with it the chance of becoming upwardly mobile. Young extremists were first to appear on the scene. They were going to save the planet from the corruption of the high-living rich. They had little save their fanatic idealism to back them up. But they were young and eager. And they were lucky. No one saw them as a threat. So, they got a pass and it remained that way until a change took place that transformed this band from a ragtag bunch of oddballs into a legitimate movement. What came to validate their cause and force the powerful to sit up and take notice was an alliance with the well established environmental movement.

For decades the environmentalists had addressed the alarming problem of pollution in the cities and waterways of America. Rapid industrialization had come to the country along with the waste products from the burning of fossil fuels, particularly coal. So, along with the expansion of the country, pollution got worse and something had to be done. Clean air and water were required to maintain the quality of life Americans had come to expect but the problem just got bigger and was soon apparent to all. A solution had to be found. And, necessity being the mother of invention, a combination of technological ingenuity and political regulation did the trick. Here’s how. Scientists and politicians became partners in an effort to clean out harmful pollution. The public demanded a solution and the race was on. Nobody doubted the issue. Economic growth with its attendant pollution was necessary but equal was the need for reduced pollutants so that the nation’s air and water could sustain health. No expert opinion was required. It was plain for all to see. So, the evidence of pollution was measured and action taken. Success! And all seemed good in the land of the free.

However, the environmentalists, who fought for the pollution solution, soon realized that this was not in their interest. That’s how it is. Success always tends to put your power in jeopardy. But, for the Greens, this was the chance they had been waiting for. They had been the weak sister of their alliance with the environmentalists for long enough. Now was the time to show their hand. Doomsday is on the way had been their mantra and now was the time to play that fear card they’d been keeping up their sleeve. During the seventies it was a slow cooling of the globe. That didn’t work too well. By the nineties, the Green party line became Global Warming. That worked much better. Measurements around the world were made and lo it was true, the globe was indeed slowly warming. So, the threat was discovered and soon the culprit was found, Carbon Dioxide. Keep in mind that the science wasn’t really so clear-cut but that’s the way it goes when politics imposes its black and white nature on highly uncertain science. Anyway, to clean the air of the usual pollutant suspects became insufficient. From then on, the class of dangerous pollutants had to include Carbon Dioxide, and with this redefinition, the Greens became equal partners in the Green-Environmental coalition.

On the surface it seemed that Alan and Scott met by pure accident, though considering the alignment of circumstances, perhaps it was destiny that took a hand. Both men had become avid Global Warming believers and naturally both attended the climate conference in San Francisco held at the posh Westin St. Francis hotel overlooking Union Square. In a small lecture room on the 28th floor, a meteorological expert was explaining the global temperature measurement techniques. On one transparency, the dots showed clearly that though the average surface temperature was wildly fluctuating, there was an unmistakable tendency for the ups-and-downs to rise during the course of the twentieth century. There were about two dozen warming enthusiasts packing the room. Alan and Scott were seated toward the rear and there was an instant when they made eye contact. Both were in agreement with the speaker’s remarks and they nodded to each other. Yes, that man is right on target. During the morning coffee break, Scott approached Alan, though in their memories it might well have happened the other way. From the first, they were attracted to each other. Why not? They were young and eager, knowledgeable and articulate, and both were driven by a determination to do what was right for the nation and the world. And so it was, whether by chance or fate’s will, that the businessman and the Senator became good friends.

The two men always found time for each other. They had lunch together at least once a week and there were regular dinners at both homes. They loved to talk and took every opportunity to find some secluded spot to engage in vigorous discussion. They spoke of politics, business and everything else under the sun. So it was no surprise that the furthering of their common cause arose and soon after, the related question of how they could enrich themselves in the bargain. And so, they reached the bottom line, making greenbacks out of Green fields.

As the years flew by, both Alan and Scott became more and more powerful. Alan’s business dealings were very lucrative and he spread his wings by buying out Stillman’s turbine business for more than a generous sum and expanding it to over a dozen cities around the country. At the same time, he purchased Stillman’s consulting companies and combined them with his own. Then, in his golden hands, the new Winston Corporation, manufacturing turbines and consulting, took over a healthy fraction of the Green market. Still it was mostly Alan’s Green investments and currency trading that brought him the bulk of his unimagined wealth. Scott too acquired wealth beyond his expectations, though, because of federal disclosure rules, he had to hide much of his capital in Zurich banks and offshore accounts. This offered the unforeseen dividend of vacations, with and without family, to Switzerland ski resorts and Caribbean playgrounds. Skillfully both men used their fabulous fortunes to enlist prospective candidates at both state and federal levels and go on to build the political careers of these men. Using these politicos, now beholden to them, they began to shape the course of legislation and history and fatten their pots even more. These were exciting times for our two rising stars as they strode the land at the forefront of the Green revolution amassing riches and power.

A Fix for a Fix

Mitchell Reese is a young man with the prospect of having a first-rate career. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be a brilliant scientist. But for now he’s a tireless academic who at 28 has found his way into the business world where he seeks to quicken the pace of his rise. He works in a group of three in the Washington consulting branch of the Winston Corporation. He and his colleagues, Vanessa and Tyrone, have become good friends and are in constant interaction – perfect for the work they do, picking up data and analyses from around the world, assessing it all and ever on the lookout for breakthroughs. They don’t really ask for much, just one piece of unassailable evidence that would unambiguously demonstrate the slow relentless global temperature rise. That, after all, is their raison d’être. Oh yes, they believe in warming all right, but, as scientists, their creed requires that it be clearly revealed in numbers. That’s not asking for the world but the truth is that the expectation of such manifest proof, little as it is, is very low, very low indeed. All in all though, their situation is not so bad. They have good jobs that they love. They write papers, publish some in scholarly journals and give lectures at the ever increasing number of conferences, some affording them the opportunity of traveling to exotic locales. Yes, life is good. They wake each day with energy to spare, arrive at work with optimism and derive a lot of satisfaction from what they do. Moreover, they really like being with each other and, young though they are, they’re the experts and are given a lot of autonomy. Look at them, energetic, excited and free. Can things be much better?

There is, however, one gray spot in this otherwise brightly colored picture. Vanessa and Tyrone have become a loving twosome, leaving Mitchell as odd man out. That means that there are times when Vanessa and Tyrone go off together, leaving him to fend for himself. And then there are those moments when they steal a caress or a quick kiss in the shadows or exchange a warm knowing smile. Mitchell has become very sensitive to such occurrences. He just can’t seem to fight the jealousy that wells up in him. Oh how he would like to make it a threesome. But c’est la vie. You know, three’s a crowd.

It’s funny how bleak circumstances can work to your advantage by encouraging you to seek new avenues of opportunity. As for suffering Mitchell, nowadays he always seems to be on the make, and naturally where there’s life, there’s hope. Consider this encounter he experiences on a hot summer day. It starts when he goes out to jog around the large company parking lot, something he often does, not only to exercise and to keep his weight in check but also to relieve the tension that has been building up in him of late. While trotting along, he is troubled by a spontaneous recollection. Some of the computer data he has been working with exhibits inconsistencies with his recent hard-copy discovery. Having gone over it all that morning, there was no doubt. It was disappointing and though he tried to shrug it off, those new numbers just kept gnawing at him. What’s worse is that he seemed to have no way to validate them. Still, there had to be an error somewhere. Unnerved by a feeling of helplessness, he thinks how useful it would be if he was privy to all the direct experimental numbers. Although unlikely, it is possible that there are mistakes in the original data. That’s it. He has to get to all the source material. So, cutting his run short, he begins the trek to the administrative offices to inquire of the higher ups. He knows when the measurements were made, so it shouldn’t be too difficult a task, especially if the filing was electronic. Walking along the hallways and proceeding to the office complex where documentation is handled, he suddenly has a flash from the past. As soon as his memory focuses, he becomes distraught. The raw data was routinely destroyed. It was kept for a short period, edited and reformulated to make it clear and then disposed of. It’s odd that at the time he didn’t see the potential problems with this policy. Come to think of it, he never understood why it was done at all but, so be it. Realizing that there’s no value in pursuing the matter, he turns around and starts back. Why bother anyone when he already knows the answer? It would only irritate them. He continues on his way, preoccupied, and doesn’t look where he’s going. All of a sudden, he’s confronted by an absolutely gorgeous girl and he virtually bumps into her. She’s some years younger than he, but what a girl, tall, black haired and with a face and figure to die for. Sorry, he blurts out and, becoming bewitched as he looks her over, finds himself unable to stop staring. Do you work here? she asks with composed indifference. The question is rhetorical and she casually continues. My father owns all this. I’m Justine. After a slight hesitation, she adds coyly, You’re cute. Overwhelmed, Mitchell remains speechless. My friends call me Gina and you can too if you want, she goes on. I’m Mitchell…uh… Mitch, the young man ekes out, and then pauses. Look, I have to go, he says in a shaky voice. Damn it, he so wants to look urbane and polished and here he is, appearing inexperienced and totally lacking in sophistication. He’s just too nervous to pull off the debonair bit and, in short order, there he is running away. He does however turn back and manages to glimpse the smiling face of this alluring princess. And so, he forgets his questioning of the questionable practice of data disposal, his mind overtaken by the image of a pretty twentyish black beauty.

About a week later, Mitchell is in his office preparing for an ad hoc conference on global warming and its consequences, to be held at Frenchman’s Reef Resort, a beachfront hotel in St. Thomas. He is giving a talk there and wonders whether to include some of the doubts that have crept into his mind since his recent discoveries of warming-data discrepancies. To tell all or not, that is the question. He doesn’t like thinking about his findings but dutifully starts weighing the pros and cons of letting the sun shine in. As the hours pass, he finds himself becoming repetitive and soon after comes to realize that a clear-cut conclusion is beyond his grasp now. That’s when the phone rings. What a relief. Now he can set aside this troublesome issue for the time being. On answering, he hears a soft sexy voice. Mitch? He knows immediately who it is and a thrill runs through him. Though terribly excited, he is somehow still able to display the poise he lacked when he first came face to face with Justine a week earlier. Gina! How wonderful of you to call. I’ve been thinking about you. Can we get together sometime? Soon I hope…. There I go, on and on. I’m sorry. Is there something in particular you would like? After a slight hesitation, Justine whispers, I’m planning to surprise my mother in Miami Beach the weekend after next. Would you come with me? Pretty please? Mitchell’s mind goes into high gear. How great that she went to the trouble of finding out his phone number. She must care something for him. Actually, I have to be in St. Thomas next week for a conference. Look, maybe you could meet me there late next week. We could spend some time at Morning Star Beach, experience the grand life for a while and then fly together to Miami. What luck! Our stars are perfectly aligned. But even if they weren’t I’d find a way to accompany you. Justine is duly impressed with Mitchell’s apparent sophistication. Wow, she coos, you’re some cool guy. After making an appointment for Saturday to finalize the details for the following weekend, their talk comes to a slow end. Mitchell is on cloud nine. A few days later when they meet, they talk just like old friends and Mitchell is captivated by this charmer he can’t take his eyes off. The plan they come up with is for him to take care of things for the St. Thomas leg, for her the Miami one. And all the while, the words fly. How excited he’s become by the upcoming adventure. So downhearted before she crossed his path, now here he is on fire. Could this be love? There’s simply no other explanation. So, he lets the moral issue of data disposal sink deeper into a recess of his mind, where it rests. Now Justine fills his thoughts. He imagines her warm supple body and sensual lips close to his and the two of them doing undreamt of things.

High in the Cold Clean Sky

With the data problem hanging over him, Mitchell has a predicament but he knows where he stands in the scheme of things. Sure, he knows the difference between right and wrong but he also knows what he can and can’t do and how far he can go. Fleetingly it passes through his mind to wipe the slate clean, though deep inside he knows that’s plain fantasy. There’s no escaping living the lie, not for him. Maybe if he were a more courageous type. Sad to say, he’s not. Poor Mitchell, no particularly high cards in the self-esteem hand he was dealt. How silly of him to broadcast his lack of self-assurance with that unfortunate tendency he has to belittle himself. Still, you’ve got to give him credit for recognizing it. He sees that it’s not the kind of characteristic that will help him be a persuasive scientist or the guy who gets the girl. So, being of a rational nature, he sets out to correct his flaw. Remake yourself, Mitch. Get a new look. Develop your body. Build your muscles. Pump iron and sweat on a stair climber, that’s the ticket. Success! He gets rid of his flabby spare tire and his face and body become slimmer and more pleasing to look at. You might even say he’s handsome. Now, whenever he gazes in the mirror, he feels proud. He even concludes that confidence has been pumped into him. But it’s only his imagination speaking. For when he finds himself in intellectual combat, he’s still the one who gives in. It doesn’t matter whether he’s right or wrong. He just doesn’t have the staying power, the pluck to stick it out to the end. So, here he is, our clever young man, 35,000 feet above the earth and Saint Thomas bound. Try, my boy, try to fight it out with the Establishment. You may believe you lack the spirit and that may actually be true to a degree, but just don’t dwell on it, it’s only a little trick of fate. Just banish the notion from your consciousness and try to see yourself at the podium boldly spouting a mea culpa. Don’t be afraid. Let the truth fly free. What a joke. That’s not who Mitchell is. He can only be himself and he knows it. He’s an accomplice and that’s that. It’s only a little lie anyway, he rationalizes. So, why should he put himself on display only to be castigated and made a pariah? For what? The truth? Although rarely, he has seen others try. They didn’t get very far, did they? How quickly they were ostracized or worse! And, in the end, they caved. No, it’s better to stick with the crowd. Just do your job and don’t look for trouble. Do what’s expected of you. That way, maybe you’ll get promoted or even get rich. So it’s decided. He’ll give his lecture just as he did a couple of weeks earlier in a run through in front of the whole department. He’ll simply ignore what really happened, his finding some old raw data, his reanalysis and discovery. Funny how all that played out, isn’t it? He was under the impression that the direct experimental data was destroyed. Not for any devious reason. It’s merely a matter of filing priorities, the higher-ups said. You can’t clog the system with a mass of irrelevant stuff. Why take up all the company’s valuable hard-drive space? So, separate out the gold and get rid of the unneeded raw data. Compress and adjust the data, the big guys said. But then his chance discovery occurred. He was rummaging through his office closet and there in the back was a box filled with sheets of experimental output data. Though his own computer’s hard-drive was also wiped clean of all the original stuff, for some inexplicable reason, he had kept a hard copy of a little of it. Studying the stained output sheets, he found out that all this adjustment crap was a bunch of lies and this warming business all a crock. What a fool he had been to believe that the decision makers were lily white pure and wouldn’t deign to fudge.

As Mitchell sits thinking in his economy class seat of an American Airlines Boeing 727, he remembers finding that pile of paper in his closet. It was like chancing upon something long forgotten. The urge to peek into the past was just too strong. How could he have resisted? So, once again, for the umpteenth time, the story of his struggle with truth and how he became a collaborator fills his mind. It’s as if by rethinking it enough times, the ending will change and fulfill his ideal of himself.

The details fly by: A measured temperature doesn’t fit the global temperature rising hypothesis. An adjustment is made until it fits the curve. There’s no valid justification for adjusting the raw data. His shock intensifies when the troublesome temperatures keep popping up and are adjusted too. For the first time, he becomes fed up and calls adjustment what it really is. Falsification! He has a desire to shout it out but he’s afraid because, in the little world he inhabits, there are nasty consequences to finding and divulging inconvenient truths.

Alas, the words don’t assuage his guilt. He’s not ready to accuse his colleagues of mischief, nor the higher-ups of a deliberate conspiracy. His vow as a scientist to speak the truth still has to play second fiddle to survival, and the truth has to be suppressed for him to maintain the life he’s become accustomed to. This is his reality. He has no choice but to bury the evidence he has uncovered and stick to the party line. Mitchell recalls that first day when he was on the side of truth and might well have become a whistle blower. How he regrets not having been a hero. It would have made him so proud. But that doesn’t matter a whit now because his urge to be truthful has been ebbing until now, when way up in the wild blue yonder, he has no doubts and feels as pure as can be. How easy it was to sell his soul to the devil. And he was right to do so. Just look how good it is. Here he is, in the clean sky far above the clouds, ready to take on the few remaining skeptics who oppose warming. Securing a safe clean planet demands it. Good health for all demands it. Future generations demand it. And smart politics demands it.

Chapter 2

Searching For Yourself

Just a Squeeze of a Hand

Once the door is open you can’t know what will enter and once words are spoken you can’t know how things will play out. When Laura arrived at Tina’s place three years back, she didn’t know whether Tina would be at home. Had she not been, maybe the fork in the road would have led Laura somewhere altogether different. Well, it’s all moot, for there she was. Laura had been to the Winston home many times before for family gatherings. However, that warm August day she was coming solo in the late morning. Both their husbands were out of town, perhaps at a golf outing in Aruba or maybe somewhere in the Virgin Islands. Furthermore, one of the two Winston kids and both of hers were councilors at a popular summer camp in Virginia’s Black Mountains. As for Justine, she was a free spirit and not apt to be at home. Since all four teenagers were independent beyond their years, the two women could already sense the coming sad impact of their children leaving the nest. For Laura, her loneliness would be worsened because of Scott’s increasing absences in the past few years due to his growing Senate responsibilities and escalating travel. Surely, these were the reasons that prompted her unlikely visit, though the odd thing was that, despite being alone a lot, she had no complaints. She was rich and had the time to do as she pleased. Frankly, the freedom she acquired was positively exhilarating and, from time to time, she would even go on a wild and whimsical spending spree. Still, what can you do when you’re alone so much of the time? So there she was walking up the long driveway of the Winston colonial, set away from the main road on a perfectly landscaped 4-acre parcel of land. She really should have called first, but to be blunt, she had no reason to give for her visit. The inclination to see her friend had been simmering in her for quite a while, and yet when action came, it was purely impulsive. From the instant she awoke that morning, all she knew was that she had to do it. She had to get out and see Tina. Tina would understand. She was sure of that. Still, for a moment, standing on the landing, she hesitated, hoping that Tina would be out. But the thought passed swiftly and she stepped up and pressed the front doorbell. She felt her heart begin to race as she waited. It wasn’t more than a few seconds till the door swung open and Maria stood facing her a touch surprised. Is Mrs. Winston in? she asked and was quickly ushered into a spacious room furnished much like an old English library. It’s so nice to see you, Mrs. Harkin. I will tell Madam that you’re here. What was she doing here? What would her first words be? She had the jitters as she went over to the liquor cabinet and poured herself some scotch meant to give her a jolt. It did the trick so that when Tina entered the library looking concerned and inquiring if something was wrong, Laura simply smiled. Nothing, nothing at all, she said. I just had this urge to see you. Please don’t worry, I have no serious business. In fact, I have no business at all. I just wanted to be near you. Let’s go into the kitchen, have some coffee and trade gossip, like good friends are meant to do. Tina liked what she heard and looked perfectly radiant as she led the way. And the two gorgeous ladies of leisure – one dark complexioned and the other light – were soon in a most elaborate kitchen where they sat at a cozy round table. After Tina poured, they gazed intently at each other and erupted in laughter, hearty, happy laughter. Tina then took hold of Laura’s soft white hands and squeezed them lovingly.

Miami Bound

Laura’s steps have a bounce to them as she moves excitedly toward the rendezvous point. When she gets to the circular information booth in the rotunda of Washington’s Union Station, she sees that Tina hasn’t yet arrived. This is no surprise. Tina has a habit of being late. She likes to make a splashy entrance with that devil-may-care way of hers, reveling in the looks of envy on the faces of those waiting for her. But Laura doesn’t mind this facet of Tina’s character. On the contrary, she rather enjoys seeing her paramour so secure in what she does and so confident in her capacity to please. Looking at the schedule board on a far wall, she confirms that the Miami bound train will be departing on time at 6:30 PM. There’s no hurry, still an hour to go. Besides, boarding hasn’t yet begun. She strolls for a while thinking of their three previous January jaunts south. What adventures they were: shopping sprees, extravagant suites in ritzy hotels and elegant expensive restaurants. Well, why not? They were together and happy, and as far from the routine of their everyday lives as can be imagined. It was heaven. So, why shouldn’t it happen again?

Laura, my sweet, why is there such a faraway gaze in those lovely blue eyes of yours? Come. Let’s get a strong espresso at Starbuck’s before boarding. Laura’s face lights up as the two women hug. But there’ll be time enough for that later. With Tina leading the way, it’s off to the train after filling up on caffeine. Down the platform they glide as the cars of the Amtrak slip by. Having checked their luggage with porters when they arrived separately by cab, they move effortlessly, looking forward with their backs held straight. How buoyantly they float along and how unapproachable they seem to be, as you might expect of classy ladies on a trip to some exotic location. Upon reaching car 2100, they’re helped up the high steps by a polite attendant and proceed to number 2106. Just the sight of the compact bedroom suite they enter triggers promising images of what’s to come. Facing them behind two fixed swivel sofa chairs is a long window with blinds drawn. To the right are the still concealed bunk-style beds and to the left is the bathroom adjacent to a dresser set in the wall. Their luggage is laid on a pullout shelf below the dresser. The room is carpeted and large as train-rooms go. Shall I pull down the beds? inquires the attendant. Not right now, Tina answers. We’ll relax a bit and after we’re underway we’ll be going to the dining car lounge for a drink before dinner. You can prepare the beds then, say in an hour? Once the porter is gone, the two women of mystery remove their fitted cashmere coats and hang them in the narrow closet in the corner behind the front door, then stand in the center of the room and stare at each other. Soon their smiles turn to laughter and they hold each other tightly but tenderly. Well, we’re here again, Laura sings with glee. You know, for the last month I’ve been counting the hours. Tina holds Laura at arm’s length and looks her over from head to toe. You are lovely. After standing quietly cheek to cheek, they’re jolted by the train pulling out. Unpacking their toiletries and the few things they’ll need for the night, they freshen up a bit and make their way to the lounge a couple of cars to the rear.

The special cab they enter is really made up of two, connected at the back by a passageway to the kitchen. The lounge is in the first third of the front section, the dining area in the back two thirds. Once in, facing them is the bar on the left wall and scattered in the remaining free space are tiny tables with swivel chairs, fixed to the floor. When greeted by the Captain, Tina makes a reservation for dinner, orders two vodka martinis and chooses the table in the far corner, which happens to be available. Please have the bartender make our drinks the James Bond way, Tina calls out to the Captain. Turning back he smiles knowingly. Of course, Madam. After getting their drinks, the two lookers, their sexy legs crossed, put on a fine show, toasting each other and the good fortune that makes them so utterly suited. It is then that two men approach them from the bar. Maybe I’m being a bit presumptuous, the handsome one starts, but I wonder, that is, George and I wonder whether you would care to have company for dinner. While slowly giving him the once over, Tina brazenly asks, And who might you be? The man becomes somewhat flustered but manages to get out, Oh, sorry, I’m Pete. At that, Tina takes hold of his extended limp hand and squeezes it. She does have a shameless tendency to flirt with those she has no interest in. Okay Pete, why don’t you arrange to get us a table for four? The men, ever so pleased, find the Captain and Tina smiles mischievously on noticing Pete furtively hand over some bills. Quickly the men return, unable to hide their air of school boys on the make. It’s all set, girls, Pete informs them. And soon the four are seated at a table near the back of the dining area perusing menus.

Laura senses that Tina is up to some sort of prank. Maybe it’s not so nice to do such things but it amuses her to see weak naïve men squirm. Making eye contact with Tina, Laura smiles a private smile, indicating that she understands and perhaps even approves. Meanwhile the meal goes on. Tina chooses Maryland crab cakes and Laura poached salmon while the men go for steak. What a bright and breezy bunch. Inside, though, the men are oh so eager and expectant, busily thinking about what lies ahead. Listening to the humdrum patter, Laura is bored except when she’s watching Tina expertly employ her come-on. During coffee, she abruptly announces that she’s tired and wishes to take a nap. Tina tries to keep the party going. That’s my sister for you. Sure dear, go rest a bit. I’ll hold the fort.

The men are taken aback at this turn. What to make of it? But now, with Laura out of the way, Tina is ready to play her little game. She rises from her chair, walks across to Pete and whispers in his ear. Come Pete, lead me to your bedchamber and, in the wink of an eye, he’s up and happily doing as instructed. In the meantime, George is dumbfounded. He’s left holding the bag, which in this instance is the check.

Pete’s anticipation is high. Who could blame him? While moving along the corridor, Tina slithers up to him and teasingly touches him in places she shouldn’t but the comedy of the scene escapes Pete. When she sees him fumbling with the key to his and George’s bedroom, she gets a buzz. But the show is just starting. Once inside, she seats herself in a chair across the made beds. She kicks off her pumps and sits provocatively with her legs spread apart. Well Pete, any suggestions? She half expects him to grab her and have his way. Not that she’d mind having a virile young man, but he’s such a softie, belying that thing trying to protrude from his pants. No, this is not a man but merely a boy. So, she takes control. Inviting him to stand in front of her, she unzips his trousers and digs in for it. You have a nice big one, she remarks as she puts it in her mouth and slides it in and out. Abruptly, she stands up, pushes him onto the lower bed and kneels on the floor without releasing his member from her grasp. Bending over him, using her hands and mouth, she goes through her routine slowly. Once he climaxes, she tries to squeeze more of the fluid out, and when he has no more to give, she gets up, goes to the sink and washes her hands and face thoroughly. Without a word, she puts on her shoes and is out the door, leaving that sticky goo all over his clothes.

When Tina arrives at the suite, she taps lightly. Laura unlocks the door and leaves it ajar. Tina pushes it open. The room is dimly lit, only the reading lamp in back open. Peering straight ahead, she sees Laura standing in the center wearing nothing but a negligee made of a delicately colored sheer fabric. With an enigmatic Mona-Lisa-smile she is a picture of self-assured womanhood and yet appears terribly vulnerable. Tina is so moved by the image, she feels a tear flowing down her cheek and has a burning desire to embrace the woman she has come to cherish. She takes a couple of hesitant steps forward but is halted by Laura’s extended arms. May I? the exquisite figure asks. Tina, arms spread and a look of anticipation on her face, whispers, I’m yours, my sweet, all yours. Dropping her garment, Laura gets down on her knees. She takes off Tina’s pumps and removes her pantyhose, kissing her bare feet slowly and affectionately. Standing, she unzips her royal blue sheath dress and helps it fall to the floor. When equally naked, their bodies brush against each other, their lips touch and they linger in a soft embrace. Tina then draws Laura toward the bed. While lying together, she nestles her head in soft breasts as Laura runs her fingers through Tina’s black silky hair. It’s a surreal moment of supreme peace when all earthly burdens and desires are set aside. And so they remain until a blissful slumber overtakes them. Later they will remember this episode and wonder what really took place that night. They will imagine they experienced a divine occurrence but they will never be able to recapture that heavenly moment in paradise.

Fate Takes a Hand

After their pleasant train ride, the two ladies of leisure arrive at the Miami Amtrak Station at dusk on Friday. Everything is running according to plan. A porter takes their luggage to a line of waiting taxis, places them in the trunk of one and they’re on their way. The cabbie maneuvers to I95 south, transfers to I195 east and crosses Biscayne Bay on the Venetian Causeway. He then travels along Dade Boulevard to the east coast of Miami Beach. Heading to South Beach, they pass along a strip of restaurants and bars. The lights are beginning to glitter in the approaching darkness and the nightlife is starting to stir. Soon the place will be alive with thrill seekers and adventurers roaming the streets with fun and games on their minds. Coming to Collins Avenue, they see the tropical gardens, glistening pools and gleaming bright lights of the Setai. From up close the structure appears to rise higher and higher, piercing the sky. As they approach the front entrance on a long driveway, they catch glimpses of the inviting sandy beach and the pounding waves of the encroaching Atlantic at high tide.

We’re so happy to see you once again, Mrs. Winston. We have your suite ready for you. It’s Anton, greeting them in his eager-to-please manner. Soon the two belles find themselves in a luxurious suite on an upper floor. Once alone, both slip off their shoes and fall onto the inviting king-size bed. Snuggling up to Laura, Tina offers an affectionate embrace. How are you, sweet Laura? Tina whispers, idly stroking her cheeks. Laura sighs with satisfaction. However you are that’s how I am, my love. How could it be otherwise? You make my life worthwhile. You’re my everything. The two lie together without uttering a word. When the spell ends, they walk arm in arm onto the balcony where they gaze serenely at the mysterious ocean.

Time to eat, Tina announces. You lead and I’ll follow comes Laura’s answer. Okay, my dear, are you ready for Peking duck, warm wine and purple passion fruit? The two beauties freshen up, dress and make their way to the main restaurant on the lobby floor. During dinner, they talk and giggle, oblivious to everything but each other. Tina relates all the gory details of her experience with Pete the previous evening, necessitating some tête-à-tête whispering. Laura, getting into the gossipy mood, reminds Tina of the expressions on the two men’s faces in the dining car the morning after as Tina sashayed past them while flashing a gotcha grin right at Pete’s disconcerted frown. The men appeared utterly beaten while the women wondered if Pete had actually had the balls to tell his friend the true story. After putting away the delicious duck feast, they head for the lobby and as they walk, their hands brush, eliciting tender glances. Outside, a full moon brightens the star studded sky and the wet beach sand gives way under their weight, wrapping itself around their bare feet. How wonderful it is being together, just the two of them, arm in arm, on a summerlike stroll along the water’s edge. Here, life’s tensions seem to vanish in the warm tropical air. And, all the while, the waves encroach on the sand and edge closer.

After a night of romance and restful slumber, Laura wakes before seven, gathers up her beachwear and quietly slips out, but not before planting a loving kiss on Tina’s unknowing lips. Finding a lounging chair close to the surf, she removes her terrycloth robe and slip-ons, and stretches out in her sea-blue bikini and shades. She’s carrying a book with her, the English Patient, but lays it aside and through her dark lenses watches the sun appearing, a ball of fire rising out of the distant water. Thoughts of Scott crowd her mind as she wonders why she felt the need to seek out Tina. When he was around, he treated her like a queen and made love to her with craving desire. The parties she planned and carried out were big hits and Scott’s pride in his exquisite hostess was palpable. The truth is that everybody knew that here was a perfect couple. They were made for each other. And, up to a point, Laura thought so too. Yet, ideal as things were, she did seek out Tina. Why? Soon, deep in contemplation, she falls asleep.

When William Castle steps out of the sea onto the white sand and first sees her, he’s a smitten man. She’s lying with one knee slightly bent, her head turned a little and her hands resting at her sides. The sun is already hot and rising in the eastern sky. He stares at her white skin exposed to the heat and radiation and becomes concerned. She’s so vulnerable. He must do something. He lifts the folded pale green robe from where she placed it, shakes out the sand and lays it over her from neck to knees. As he sets it down, the backs of his hands brush against her creamy skin. To cover her shins and her superbly sculpted feet, he applies his own beach towel. While standing over her, he notices in her face some quivering of her cheeks. What could she be dreaming? he wonders. He can’t decide whether to leave or stay and watch over her. Perhaps staying would appear unseemly. However, it doesn’t take him long to choose to remain at his post, so to say. Sitting in the sand beside her with his hands clasped around his bent knees, he gazes at this unknown woman whom he is unable to resist. Could he actually fall in love with someone without seeing her in motion, without hearing how she sounds or the ideas she expresses and without experiencing her passions and desires? Stranger things have happened, he thinks as an ironic smile spreads over his rugged, handsome tanned face. He’ll have to wake her soon. The sun can be devastating to the fair-skinned. He knows that. But not just yet, so contented is he just being close to her. Then the moment comes when he must explain why he’s there. It happens suddenly. She awakes and turns her head to face him. Lifting the dark glasses onto her head, she stares questioningly into his eyes. He doesn’t say a word. And yet, she knows exactly what happened. Silently, they gaze at each other. Oddly, she feels utterly safe in the presence of this