True Blue (8 page)

“You’ll have to get one if you want to ride with me, then,” she’d told him.

“I’ll think about that,” he’d said back.

“The helmet?”

“No, whether I want to ride with you again.”

They drove up the winding paved road. The property was set high up on what folks in the D.C. area would call a ridge, although people from places with real mountains would simply call it a slightly elevated mound of dirt.

Mace looked out the window. “I didn’t know anyone in northern Virginia had this much land.”

“Looks like a compound of sorts,” said Roy. He pointed to a large structure whose roof must’ve been thirty feet high. “I wonder what’s in there?”

As they rounded a bend the mansion came into view.

“Damn!” they both said together.

“It looks like one of the buildings on the Georgetown campus,” said Roy.

“Only bigger,” added Mace.

They pulled to a stop next to a full-size Bentley. Beside that was a two-door dusty and dented Honda, which created the impression of a dinghy next to a yacht. They got out and walked up to two massive wooden doors that would not have looked out of place at Buckingham Palace. Before Roy could ring the bell, one of the doors opened.

“Come in, come in,” said the man.

Abraham Altman was of medium height, a few inches taller than Mace, with white hair to his shoulders and a clean-shaven face. He had on faded jeans and an untucked long-sleeved shirt open at the neck that revealed a few curls of gray chest hair. Open-toed sandals covered his long feet. His eyes were blue and active. He was in his seventies but seemed to have the energy of a far younger man.

Altman shook Mace’s hand vigorously and then abandoned formality and gave her a hug, actually lifting her up on her tiptoes in his exuberance.

In a rush of words he said, “It’s so wonderful to see you again, Mace. Your sister told me what happened. Of course I’d read about it in the papers. I was unfortunately in Asia during the whole debacle or rest assured I would have been a character witness for you. What an injustice. Thank God you came out unharmed.”

He abruptly turned and held out his hand to Roy. “I’m Abraham Altman. Please call me Abe.”

“Roy Kingman. I know your son Bill.”

“Wonderful. That’s his Bentley out there.”

“He’s here?” said Roy.

“No, he’s out of the country with his family. He’s leaving it here until he gets back.”

“Who does the Honda belong to?” asked Mace.

“That’s mine.”

“So old Bill has a Bentley?” Roy said inquiringly. “Does he still work at the public defender’s office?”

“No, he left there last year. He’s doing other things now.” Altman didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. “Come into the library. Would you care for something to drink?”

Roy and Mace exchanged glances. Roy said, “Beer?”

“I was actually thinking of tea. It’s late for afternoon tea, of course, but we’ll call it evening tea. I admire many things of our English friends, and afternoon tea is one of them.”

“Tea’s good,” said Roy, exchanging an amused glance with Mace as they headed into Abe Altman’s humble thirty-thousand-square-foot abode.

Mace said, “We should all have a Herbert in our lives.”

Altman poured the tea and handed out the food.

“Quite a place you have here,” said Roy as he balanced a teacup and saucer on one thigh while biting into a blueberry scone.

“It’s far too large of course for me now, but I have lots of grandchildren and I like for them to have a place to come. And I do like my privacy.”

“Beth said you had a job offer for me?”

Altman solemnly gazed at her. “Yes. And I have to say that I can never repay you for what you did for me. Never.”

Mace looked down, embarrassed by his obvious adoration. “Okay.”

Altman glanced at Roy. “This woman saved my life. Did you know that?”

“No, but I can certainly believe it.”

“The HF-12 gang,” Altman added. “Nasty buggers.”

“HF-12?” said Roy.

“Heroin Forever, and there were a dozen in the crew,” said Mace. “They were bad guys but not that creative with names. Half of them are locked up.”

“The other six?” asked Roy.

“Dead.”

“I came to see you several times,” said Altman. “But they wouldn’t let me in the prison.”

“Why?”

“My reputation precedes me. That correctional facility in West Virginia has been the object of my wrath on several occasions.”

“You should’ve talked to Beth. She could’ve gotten you in.”

“I did not want to further add to the distress of your sister’s situation.” He glanced at Roy. “There’s a U.S. attorney who has it in for Mace and her celebrated sister.”

“Mona Danforth,” said Roy.

“Precisely.” Altman turned back to Mace. “There was even talk a year ago of Beth being replaced.”

Mace put down her cup. “I didn’t know that. She never said.”

“Your sister internalizes things, sometimes too much.” He gazed keenly at Mace. “And I believe you share that attribute. Fortunately the mayor wisely put a stop to all talk of firing Beth.”

“So what is it exactly that you do, Professor?” asked Roy.

“Making the world, or at least the nation’s capital, a safer place by attacking problems before the fact and not after.”

Roy nodded. “Education, preventative, that sort of thing?”

“I mean giving people a
real
choice between good and evil, right and criminal. It’s been my experience that when a real choice is offered, invariably almost everyone chooses the law-abiding path.”

Mace said, “Which brings us to why I’m here.”

“Yes. The project I’m conducting is based on a research grant I was awarded.”

“Beth said it involved going into some of the worse-off areas in D.C.”

“Yes. Areas you used to work in when you were with the police force.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Hope.”

“That’s tough to find in those places.”

“Which is precisely why I picked them.”

“So what would my duties involve?”

“I want you to go and meet with certain people in those areas. I’ve worked with Social Services to identify ten of them. I want you to talk to them and explain my proposal. If they accept then we’ll go from there.”

“So Mace would make the initial contacts?” asked Roy.

“That’s right.” He glanced at Mace. “Is he your representative?”

“Something like that. So what’s your proposal?” asked Mace.

“An internship, I like to call it. We will take the people out of their current environment, place them in a totally different environment, and immerse them in a rigorous education and social refocusing program. We will gauge their interests and ambitions and help them to fulfill those goals. We will expose them to opportunities they would otherwise never have.”

“Sounds sort of like
My Fair Lady
,” said Roy.

“With a critical difference,” answered Abe. “The connection to their present world will not be severed. They will have full contact and indeed we will encourage that contact with their present life. The goal of the program is to foster and then spread hope. These folks will serve as ambassadors of hope, if you will.”

“But no one can afford to do internships like that for everybody living in poverty,” said Mace. “Not even you. So aren’t you spreading
false
hope?”

Altman smiled. “What you say is true. No one person can afford to lift all the folks that need help and place them in a different world. But if for every person we help it inspires just one other person to break out of the cycle of disempowerment they’re currently in, the benefits can be immeasurably positive. Then we have ten people outside the program who in turn can inspire others. What that also does is gain the attention of government. And government does have the financial wherewithal to help large numbers of people.”

“Our government is pretty tapped out right now,” noted Roy.

“But any government’s greatest resource is its citizens. Most studies conclude that less than half the adult population in this country is achieving its potential. If you want to equate that to financial terms, we’re speaking of trillions of lost dollars per year. Now, even the cynical folks in D.C. would sit up and take notice of numbers like that. And beyond the government you have the private sector that is constantly complaining that they can’t get decent help to fill their job requirements. I have to tell you that some of the most creative and quick-thinking people of my acquaintance are sitting in jail right now. For some folks they see justice in that. For me, I see wasted opportunity. I can’t make every criminal into a law-abiding citizen. But if I can make even twenty percent of them choose another path that would enable them to contribute to society instead of detracting from it, it would have an enormously beneficial impact.”

“You’re definitely an optimist, Abe,” said Mace. “I agree that a lot of bandits are smart and savvy and could probably run circles around a lot of business types, but what you’re talking about doing is a tall order.”

“I’ve lived my entire life through rose-colored glasses of sorts. Sometimes I’m right and sometimes I’m wrong, but I keep trying because I believe it’s worth it.”

“But I’ve been out of the loop for a couple of years. I’m not sure how much help I’d be to you.”

“I have no credibility with the people who live in those areas. I realize that. But you do. With you I really believe I can make a difference.” Altman took off his glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief. “So are you amenable to such an arrangement?”

“Well, I don’t have—”

Roy cut in. “So what sort of pay are we talking here? And benefits?”

Altman’s eyes twinkled. “Now I understand why your friend is here.”

“I’m not really good with business stuff,” explained Mace quickly.

“I completely understand. Well, your salary will be three thousand a week, plus full health care, transportation, a reasonable expense account, and room and board. The project will last about a year, I would assume. So that would be about a hundred sixty-five thousand dollars as a base salary. And if the project is successful there will be more work to do at similar compensatory levels.”

Roy looked at Mace and she looked back at him.

“I think the salary is
adequate
,” Roy finally said, while Mace nodded vigorously in agreement.

She said, “I already have transportation, but you said room and board?”

“Hours for this sort of venture will be irregular. Much better if you stayed here at the guesthouse. It’s behind the gymnasium complex.”

“Gymnasium complex?” asked Roy. “The big building on the left coming in?”

“Yes, it has a full-size basketball court, weightlifting and cardio room, sauna, whirlpool, thirty-meter indoor pool, and a full kitchen and relaxation room.”

“A full-size indoor basketball court?” said Roy.

“Yes. I never played the game in school but it has always fascinated me and I love to watch it. Ever since moving to this area decades ago I’ve been a huge Maryland Terrapins fan. I almost never miss a home game, and have attended the last thirty-seven ACC tournaments.” Altman studied Roy. “You look familiar to me now.”

“I played point for UVA about eight years ago.”

Altman clapped his hands together. “Roy Kingman, of course! You were the one who beat us in the ACC finals.”

“Well, I had a lot of help from my teammates.”

“Let me see, thirty-two points, fourteen assists, seven rebounds, and three steals. And with six-tenths of a second left you drove to the basket, made a reverse layup, drew the foul, calmly made the free throw, and we lost by one.”

“Pretty awesome memory, Abe.”

Altman turned to Mace. “So will you do it?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.” He pulled a key from his pocket and tossed it to Mace. “The key to the guesthouse. Taped to it is the gate code. Do you have a cell phone?”

“Uh, no.”

He opened a drawer, pulled out a cell phone, and handed it to her. “Now you do. Would you like to see where you’ll be staying?”

They drove over in a golf cart. The guesthouse was set next to a small spring-fed pond. It was like a miniature of the main house and its level of comfort and the quality of the furnishings and amenities was beyond anything Mace had ever experienced.

Roy looked around at the large, open spaces. “How big is this place?”

“Oh, about six thousand square feet, I suppose. Bill and his family stayed here while their new home was being built.”

Roy said, “My condo is twelve hundred square feet.”

“My cell was eight by eight,” said Mace.

As they rode back to the main house, Altman said, “It’s funny, you know.”

“What’s that?” said Roy, who was sitting in the backseat of the four-person cart.

“Growing up in Omaha with him, I never thought Warren Buffett would ever amount to much.”

“People said the same thing about me,” Mace quipped.