The Mormon Candidate - a Novel (66 page)

“That’s my point!” Morgan smiled with renewed confidence. “You’re not interested in dead souls
.
Most people aren’t interested
in them
either
.
It’s a
unique virtue
of our Mormon faith
. Unfortunately,
because of this misunderstanding and prejudice,
voters will hold it against me
. Is that fair?
”

“
It’s
democracy
. Voters
are entitled to know the truth about every candidate so they can make an informed choice.
And in your case, they have the right to know that you
instructed Zachariah
Hinckley
to
copy
personal data
,
which you then used to
baptize
secretly
in
proxy
some of the bravest
American heroes
in our nation’s history
. Voters deserve an informed choice.
”

“Even if it’s a bad choice for
America
? A
choice that
will
ruin
the
last
chance to save
America
from socialist annihilation
?
To save the very soul of this country from the secular, liberal, European-style collectivism?
”

“And you happen to be the savior?”

“Yes!”

“The prince on the white horse?”

“Clever play of words,” Morgan said. “Don’t you care about the dangerous policies of the current administration? The huge deficits? The apologetic foreign policy? The sapping of entrepreneurial spirit?
The food stamps?
”

Ben shrugged. “
Not really
.
”

“That’s the problem with you
r generation! You’re spoiled and y
ou don’t care about anything
!
This election is about the soul of America!
”

“Spare me the demagoguery. You’re
not
running for
America’s soul. You’re running for
personal gratification.”

“Wrong! You think I need a bigger house?” He waved around him. “Or more money? No! I’m running for president on a
mission
—to
save us from the
ruinous
decline
engineered
by the liberal elite
s
!
America is
on the same downward path
as
ancient
Greece and
the
Rom
an Empire
! Our nation
is inflicted with
the same cancerous menace that brought down
Spain and
England
, which
turned
their backs to
the values that
had
made them great! Don’t you see that there’s much more at stake here than
the religious affiliation of
a few dead heroes?”

“Your actions are the issue here.”

“Why? All I wanted to do was a righteous favor for the dead!”

“Violating their memory by posthumous conversion?”

“You’re contradicting yourself.
” Morgan shook a finger. “What do you care about some dead soldiers?
Or
the
Jews
from the Holocaust
?
They’re dead already!
”

Ben went to the wall and removed the photo of the Marine
c
aptain. He took it to Morgan and
placed it on the coffee table before him
. “Do you remember this man?”

Morgan s
hrugged
. “It’s been many years.”

“He was the last one, the only name that Zachariah Hinckley
kept out of
the list
. This hero was t
he reason you sent
the floppy disk back
to Zachariah
with the incriminating note.” Ben patted his pocket with the thin cardboard case. “
Rings a bell.”

“So what?”

“
This Marine captain received his second Medal of Honor posthumously for driving a burning fuel truck away from a group of Americ
an boys—including Zachariah.” Ben
pushed
the framed photograph closer to Morgan. “
Do you remember
his
name?”

“How can I remember a name after so long?” Morgan hit the armrest with his hand. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

Ben pulled out his wallet and took out a small photo, creased and
chafed
from years of
rubbing
against bills and credit cards, yet still clear enough to show the serious face and dark eyes under the Marine Corps cap.
He placed it on the coffee table next to the framed portrait from the wall.

“What is this?”
Morgan looked closely. “
It’s the same person. Who is he?
”

“Captain Abba
Teller
.
M
y father.”

Morgan sat back and exhaled.

“Do you remember
him
now?”

“
So…you’re not here about…Zachariah
.”

“No.”

“
T
his
obsession…
has been
about your father.”

“He was a proud Jew
ish Marine
who died courageously for his country while saving the lives of Zachariah Hinckley and his fellow Marines. You stole my father’s soul and defiled his memory.”

“But…it was
…so
long ago
.
”

“
It’s not long ago that
Zachariah Hinckley
died at the Camp David
Scenic Overlook
,
destroying the same life that
my father
had
died to save. An irony, isn’t it?”

“Oh, no!” Keera pointed at the rolling lights. “Is this Morgan’s house? Something
bad
happened! We’re too late!”

Fran hit the br
akes, making the tires screech
. “Stay in the car!”

Keera ignored the order, jumped out, and followed Fran.

Two
state
troopers were busy setting up red flares and traffic cones in a wide circle
around the entrance to Morgan’s driveway. A man in khakis and a blue jacket was directing a dark SUV that was reversing away from the mansion until it blocked the driveway
, it
s hazard lights flashing
.

Fran approached the civilian.
“What’s going on?”

“
That was quick
,” he said
, signaling the driver to stop
. “You guys are on the ball today
—for a change
.
Why don’t yo
u take that side.” He pointed to the left. “Make sure they park their vehicles without blocking any—”

“
They?
” Fran looked around.
“Who’s
they?
”

“The media.”

“Hold on!” She raised her hand. “Did you let in a
nother
trooper
—Inspector
Porter?”

“Yeah. Community Relations or something like that.”

“Shit!” She broke into a run, passing by the SUV.

Keera followed her.

Another civilian came out of the driver’s side of the SUV and
grabbed
Keera’s
arm
. “
Secret Service!
Stop!”

“My boyfriend
’
s in there!” She pointed. “That Porter guy’s going to kill him!”

“Keep her here,” the Secret Service agent ordered one of the troopers and
ra
n after Fran. His partner followed, and they caught up with her at a steel gate in front of the main entrance to the mansion.

“Please
,” Morgan said, “you must understand my position. My faith. Y
our father was a c
ourageous man. Honorable. Baptism
was
a way to elevate him. I
meant to show him respect by
serving as a proxy
—”

“Save it for
the cameras.”
Ben pocketed his wallet.
“My job here is not to argue about religion. I don’t believe your bathtub submersion had any effect on my father’s soul, or anyone else’s soul
,
for that matter.”

“The
n
what
else
do you want?”

“
You must c
onfess. That’s what Zachariah wanted
.”

“
And
destroy m
y campaign
? Lose everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve?
”

“
It will be a sacrifice worthy of
my father’s memory and that of his fellow Medal of Honor recipients
. It’s an opportunity for you
to
show similar courage by telling the American people what you’ve done to
our heroes
.
You owe it to Zachariah, considering what you did to him.
”

“
I did nothing
!”

“
White House residency isn’t intended for murderers.”

“How dare you
?
” Morgan stood up. “
Brother Zachariah was a sick man who committed suicide
—the worst sin!
I spent
an
hour yesterday
on the phone
advocating
for him
with
our General Authorities
in Utah
to
convinc
e
them t
hat his mental illness justifies forgiveness
. They
restored h
is status as a
s
aint
!
His widow couldn’t stop thanking me for taking time from my campaign to do this for her and the children’s celestial future
, which is sealed to his
.
”

“
How charitable of you, but Zachariah didn’t commit suicide. He
was pushed off the road by the
same killer who
later
came for me. She’s one of the Danites—I
had
to kill her today at the Mormon
t
emple.”

“M
y dear God!” Morgan stumbled and held on to the back of the chair. “I had no idea this was going on!”

“Aren’t you a bigwig in the Mormon Church? Surely the Danites don’t engage in blood atonement without explicit
orders
.” Ben gestured at the envelope he’d brought with him. “Brother James must be part of the chain of command, no?”

“There are no Danites.” Morgan dropped in the armchair, deflated. “
It’s an urban legend.
They’ve been gone for decades.”

“She fit
s
the bill.”

“No, no, no. Mormon w
omen are wives, homemakers, not
killers.”

“This one’s a Danite killer al
l
right.”

“
It’s a
hoax. A diversion.”

Ben touched the bruise on his for
ehead. “She was real and deadly, came after me again and again.
”

“What did y
ou expect?” Morgan pointed to the
elections button on the lapel of his jacket. “It’s my face on the front, but
behind me stand
very powerful people who have bet
b
illio
ns of dollars on my victory—oil
men, defense contractors, casino moguls
—t
hey have
fortunes
at stake
in the elections
, huge interests
in
government contracts, infrastructure projects
,
energy production
. They’re betting on
enormous
profits
, all riding on my election as president of the United States,
all dependant
on me taking over the administration
and appointing
thousands of sympathetic officials to countless
powerful positions in the federal government
. They’re counting o
n me
as the next
c
ommander in
c
hief
, protecting their
global interests. Do you think
such
men
would sit back and let a patsy like
Zachariah Hinckley derail my candidacy
and ruin their plans
over
some
…
p
osthumous bapti
sms
?”