Chapter Seventeen

Charles Martin walked to his Mercedes on route to his interview at the television station. He watched the hazmat team at work. Men in protective suits were everywhere. Machines of all shapes and sizes worked carefully extracting earth and barrels. Each barrel was carefully inspected before being loaded onto a flatbed truck. He waved to one of the men before climbing into his car. Charles had prepared well for the interview and his heart was racing in anticipation.

Sarah was waiting for him at the television station. “Are you ready, Mr. Martin?” He patted the bulge made by the rehearsed speech in his breast pocket and smiled.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head Sarah; I have this covered.” She held her breath as she watched the interview from the production room. This was a nightmare as far as she was concerned. Possibly jeopardizing all of her hard work to make Martin and Schultz a “green” company, they needed this interview to go well.

She was surprised when Charles referred to one of ‘ their own’ being affected by the Virus X and how he wanted to know if there was any link between it and the chemical dump as everyone else did. He went on to say how she, Sarah, had spent time in hospital, but was recovering now. He embellished her hospital stay giving the impression it was more serious than it had been. He said that he was very worried about her and understood how the television viewers felt, having had this problem hit so close to home. He finished up with “We are all in this together.” He laid it on a little thick in her opinion, but the interviewer seemed to be eating it up. She had to give him credit; he knew how to ‘schmooze’ the press.

Sarah was worried about Jack’s involvement with Mr. Martin, not convinced that he was a willing ally in the cleanup operation as Charles Martin had just told the surprised interviewer. She knew Jack better than that. I bet you’re loving this Jack, you can’t wait to destroy me, make a mockery of my campaign and all I’ve worked for. The raised voice of the interviewer caught her attention.

“You mean Jack Giovanni, the protestor that was arrested years ago in front of Martin and Schultz? He is working with you on this cleanup?” The interviewer gazed at the camera in disbelief.

“Most definitely, Mr. Giovanni came to me when he discovered the problem and he and I agreed wholeheartedly that the safety of the townspeople was more important than any past grievances we might have. He is completely on board with our plans to detoxify the dump site.” Sarah was thinking that she had better tell Mr. Martin not to trust Jack, when she realized how far she had come since her relationship with him ended. Once upon a time I would have done anything for Jack Giovanni. She pulled her focus back to the television studio. The interview continued with Martin reiterating that he was completely unaware of the existence of the site and shocked and dismayed at its discovery. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief when it was over. Charles Martin handled the entire interview very well.

In his apartment, Jack stared open mouthed at the television. Martin had just made him look like the biggest hypocrite in the world. He picked up the phone to call Bernie, but it started to ring in his hand. “Hello?”

“Is this Jack Giovanni?”

“Yes, this is Jack. Who is this?”

“Mr. Giovanni, this is Miss Jackson from the local television station. We would like to schedule an interview with you on Friday morning. Are you available?” Jack assured her that he was and hung up the phone. Well, well, there really is a God. He would have a chance to tell his side of the story and much more if he could get all of the test results before Friday. They couldn’t stop him from blowing the whole thing wide open on real time, live television. He remembered that he was scheduled for x-rays on Thursday and would have to have everything ready before Friday. He started to assemble his notes. Finally he would get his chance to expose all the lies and cover ups. This was going to be his finest hour.

Needing to do some research, Jack headed for the library at the university. He was there for hours. By the time he was heading home, he was feeling very weak. “I just need something to eat,” he told himself. He drove through the drive through at the fast food restaurant and ordered two burgers and a coffee.

The phone was ringing when he arrived home. He dropped the brown bag containing his food on the table. “Hello?”

“Jack? It’s Susan. Listen I have some information for you.”

“Hey Susan, it’s nice to hear your voice. What kind of information?” He lifted one of the burgers from the bag, unwrapped it and took a bite.

“Have you ever heard of ‘fracking,’ Jack?”

“Fracking? I think so, but I don’t know much about it.” Jack took another bite of his burger and washed it down with coffee.

“Fracking is the process to obtain natural gas and it can contaminate drinking water and cause serious problems, like explosions and radioactive wastewater.”

“You think this might be our problem?” Now she had his attention. He put the burger down.

“I’m not sure, but hydraulic fracturing, or fracking, injects millions of gallons of fracking fluids into a gas well to create pressure. This cracks open the underground, releasing the natural gas. Are there any wells being drilled in your area, Jack?”

“Not that I know of, but I will check on that first thing in the morning. So the drilling can cause toxic, waste water runoff?”

“Exactly, and they use a mixture of more than 600 chemicals, water and sand to do the fracking. Naturally there is a very dangerous loophole that currently exempts energy companies from complying with the Safe Drinking Water Act and disclosing the names of the chemicals they are pumping into the ground. Lawmakers need to support the new legislature to close this loophole.”

“Are there actual cases of contamination?”

“Pro Publica, who I have worked with, reported events resulting in the contamination of one thousand groundwater wells in shale, in places such as Wyoming, Pennsylvania, Texas and Colorado.”

“And you don’t know what it is that they are using?” Jack was pacing the room.

“Fracking chemicals can be highly toxic and they include chemicals such as petroleum byproducts, potassium-based chemicals, silicas and alcohols, just to mention a few. But no one really knows exactly what the chemicals are. It was discovered in the shale from New York to Tennessee that there is as much as three million gallons of contaminated water in the ground for every well drilled.”

“Thanks Susan. I am going to look into this in the morning. Right now everything is pointing to the chemical company, but you may have hit on something. I have to get ready for my interview and I still have more evidence to compile. This is it Susan, my chance to expose the cover up.”

“How are you feeling? What did the doctor say?” Susan was concerned when she heard that Jack had been to the doctor.

“Just a little high blood pressure; it’s nothing to worry about.” He decided not to tell her about the ultrasound or the Stenosis of the Renal Artery. “You are wonderful, talk to you tomorrow.”

“You take care of yourself, Jack. I love you and good luck with the interview.”

“I love you and thanks again.” Jack hung up feeling like he finally had a soul mate in his life, a person that thought and felt as strongly as he did about the environment and life in general. He went to his computer and tried to discover if there were any natural gas wells being drilled near Bridgetown. In his heart he wanted it to be the Martin and Schultz dump site, but as a scientist, he had to look at all of the possibilities. Susan may have introduced another potential source of the pollution and he wanted to be sure before he did his interview.

Bernie, Christine and Jack all met in the coffee shop the next morning to discuss Jack’s interview. “This is going to be your chance, Jack. I just hope the interviewer gives you a chance to talk and doesn’t try to hush up any of the details,” Christine commented as she took notes for an article she intended to publish after Jack’s television appearance. This was the break they had all been waiting for.

“Charles Martin’s interview was so phony. It just reeked of political ambition,” Bernie added as he chomped on his chocolate donut. The others agreed. “I wonder how Sarah feels about all of this?”

“I haven’t seen Sarah in days. I am sure she is very busy trying to make sure this doesn’t derail her entire campaign.” Christine waited for Jack to gloat, but was surprised when he didn’t.

“I tried to warn her. I am sure she will handle it professionally.” Jack changed the subject. “I have to have all the facts. Susan brought up a good point and I’m waiting for a call back from my source at Natural Gas. If there is a gas well operation in the area, we need to know about it.” Jack sipped at his coffee and shifted his weight in the chair. His back was hurting again and he could not help but wince with the pain.

“What’s wrong with your back? You have been squirming all afternoon.” Christine had not missed the fact that Jack seemed uncomfortable.

“It’s nothing, now where were we?” Jack didn’t want anyone to know about the tests the next day. Christine and Bernie exchanged a knowing look. There was more to this than Jack was saying.

“So when are we going to meet this mysterious Susan?” Christine had been curious about Susan ever since Jack told them about her. It was obvious that something was going on between them.

“When this mess is finished, you will be the first to meet her and I know you will love her Christine, you two have a lot in common.” Jack’s face took on a faraway longing when he spoke of Susan. Christine was even more anxious to meet her now.

Later that afternoon, Sarah and Charles met to go over their next move. The interview seemed to be well received and the cleanup was going quicker than they expected. So far no broken barrels had been discovered. This was a huge relief to them both. “Mr. Martin, I want you to be careful with Jack Giovanni. He isn’t exactly one of your biggest fans.” Sarah felt almost as if she was betraying Jack, but her loyalty had to be to Martin and Schultz now.

“I can handle Mr. Giovanni, Sarah. By the way, how are you and my nephew getting along?” Mrs. Martin had asked Charles to inquire about Will and Sarah and he too was curious.

“Will and I are getting along very nicely, although it is only by phone and email. We are both looking forward to his coming home.” Sarah was tempted to tell Charles about the job offer in Toronto, but didn’t want to hex her chances. She still did not know if the job was hers, besides Mr. Martin’s sister may have already told him about her interview.

“Good, he is a nice young man and the two of you seem well suited. You could do very well for yourself in Will’s circles, Sarah.” They finished their meeting, both satisfied that everything was going according to plan, when his secretary knocked on the door.

“Excuse me Mr. Martin, but one of the men from the hazmat team wants to see you.” Both Sarah and Charles looked at each other with concern.

“Tell him to come in, Miss Taylor.” Sarah rose to leave, and Charles walked her to the door. “Thank you again Sarah, for the excellent manner in which you have handled this.” She exited past his secretary and into the long hallway. The foreman, dressed in coveralls and holding a clipboard, rose from his seat in the reception and approached Charles. He entered the room wearing a serious frown and Charles found his presence unnerving. He turned to his secretary, “You may go home now, Miss Johnson. See you tomorrow.”

As the door closed, the foreman wasted no time. “Mr. Martin, I had just signed off on the site stating our findings as satisfactory.” Charles smiled widely until the man added, “However now, I am afraid we have a problem.”

Charles sat in his huge leather chair, as the foreman’s words fell on his ears, his world starting to revolve in a surreal dance of fate. He was listening to the foreman, but with every word, he saw his career and any political aspirations, tumbling down a deep, dark well. The foreman brought his attention back to the present with his final words, “I am afraid that Martin and Schultz will have to close its doors as of tomorrow morning. This entire property will be cordoned off as unsafe and the dump site fully excavated.”

“Closed! What are you talking about, man? We can’t just close down.” Charles’ face was growing red with rage. This could not be happening to him.

The foreman looked at him as if he were an idiot. He repeated every word again. “As I just told you, Mr. Martin; I had sent the men home and had signed off on the site until I noticed a dark stain at the north corner, in the bottom of the pit. After digging deeper, I discovered another layer of barrels just below where we had taken the last sealed drum. We were under the impression that we had reached the bottom of the dump, but now it is obvious that there is another layer of older drums to the north and beneath where we were digging and the barrel that is visible is definitely rusted through. This is very serious, Mr. Martin.” He paused to make sure Charles was listening. Charles’ eyes were fixed on his, glaring. The foreman continued, “I am the only one here right now. But I must make a phone call immediately to my superior and inform him that the site is a definite hazard, much larger than we originally thought and the entire plant must be closed right away. Tomorrow, we will start excavating another pit directly beside the one that we just cleared.” He looked at Charles, who had begun to shake. “I am sorry Mr. Martin, but there is nothing else I can do. This is definitely going to affect the entire town.” The foreman rose and moved toward the door, his clipboard clutched firmly in his left hand.

“Wait, did you say you are the only one here?” Charles rose from his chair, his mind was spinning uncontrollably. His eyes fixated on the clipboard. The foreman turned towards him.

“Yes Mr. Martin. I must go and make my call now, I’m sorry.” Head down, the foreman turned toward the door. Charles advanced in one swift movement. His hand tightened on the large bronze statue on his desk and before he knew what had happened, the foreman lay at his feet, blood oozing from his head. He stood over the body, silent, a glazed look in his eyes. The statue fell from Charles’ shaking hand, his vision was blurred and his entire body shook. He fell back into the chair recently vacated by the foreman. Dear God in Heaven, what have I done?

After what seemed like hours, he shook his head to try to clear his mind. The words kept repeating over and over in his head. What have I done? Dear God in Heaven, what have I done? He had to think. Think Charles, think. Call the police? Hide the body? Think damn it. His hands grasped his head. I will be ruined.

In the next minute, he knew what he had to do and he sprang into action. First he opened the door to the reception area, checking to make sure no one was there. He called out, but silence was the only answer. Convinced he was alone, his body was beginning to calm. Gulping air into his lungs, the shaking was reduced to a minimum. His mind switched into survival mode and he moved quickly. He closed the door, went to his personal bathroom and took several towels from the rack. He removed his shirt and jacket. Carefully, he wrapped the foreman’s head in a towel to contain the blood and quickly cleaned the floor with more towels. He wiped the statue thoroughly and returned it to his desk. Putting his shirt back on, he left his office and locked the door.

Moving quickly to the service elevator, Charles travelled down to the basement. His body moved robotically and his mind was focused. Soon he discovered what he was looking for. He found a cart and more clean towels and returned to his office.

Using more towels, Charles lifted the body into the cart. He threw all the soiled towels into a green garbage bag and deposited it on top of the body. Then he went to his bathroom where he washed himself and replaced all of the missing towels with clean ones. He redressed himself, and checked the office once more. His eyes came to rest on the clipboard. He picked it up.

His hands flipped through the pages on the clipboard until he found what he wanted, the signed release that declared the site safe and ready to restore. This paper when faxed to the Ontario Health Advisory and the Ministry of the Environment, would release him from all and any future problems. At least something had gone right for him. He tossed the clipboard into the cart.

Calmly, he walked to the fax machine in the outer office and laid the paper on the screen. He dialed the number and sent the fax, removed the release, made a copy for his secretary and then tucked it safely in his jacket pocket. Remembering that the small lunch room created static in cell phones, he moved into the small space. Part of a sandwich lay uneaten on one of the tables. Coffee cups were stacked by the sink. Using the foreman’s cell and pretending to be the foreman, he called the supervisor and left a message that the release was signed and part of the dump site had been filled in. Encouraged by the static that buzzed from the phone that disguised his voice, he stated that he had been called away on a family emergency and would not be back to work until the following week. Next he used his own cell and phoned his wife. “Honey, I am going to be a little late. Go to the country club now and if anyone asks for me, tell them I am in the other room with some friends. Don’t let on that I am not there yet. Why? Never mind why, just do it! There will be some important politicians there tonight and the last thing I want is to be late. Understand? I will be there before the meal is served. Just make sure everyone thinks we came together.” He knew the mention of politicians would ensure her absolute co-operation and he now had an alibi.

With a smug grin on his face, he checked his office for any blood and satisfied that it was clear; he pushed the cart into reception and locked the door. Charles moved to the service elevator, unloaded the cart through the service entrance and rolled it out to the deserted dump site. The sun was beginning to set casting an eerie glow on the parking lot, the shadow of the building, ominously encompassing Charles, the cart and the gaping hole. The sky was filled with dark storm clouds and the entire scene was surreal. As he stood looking into the hole, a shovel rested in the north corner where the foreman had unearthed the second layer of drums, the soil was black and stained. Charles looked around the lot and when he was sure it was all clear he began. First he moved to his car, where he deposited his coat and tie as well as the bag of bloody towels. Returning, he tipped the cart and the body rolled into the hole. He immediately moved towards the bulldozer at the end of the lot. His mind buzzed. Thank heavens his father had insisted he take that job with the highway department back in college. He found the keys in the ignition and the huge machine roared to life. Charles was careful to fill only enough dirt to cover the body and the stain.

When the crew returned the next morning, they were told the foreman had family matters to attend to and would be gone for a week. Charles’ secretary, as she had been instructed, gave the acting foreman a copy of the signed release for the Ontario Health Advisory, and the remaining hole was filled in. The paving crew would restore the parking lot and grass would be replanted over the next few days.