There was no way to know what might go next. Watch your children, authorities said. Drive with caution. Pay your premiums and make sure all of your affairs are in order. Downtown among the semi-high high-rises, few dawdled or loitered. We walked with lighter steps, slipping into our buildings, fully aware that it might be for the last time. I eyed the long shadow of the new capitol building with appropriate distrust.
In my office, I found two men waiting, neither of whom I knew. The younger of the two was looking at the picture frames lining my wall. They were old photographs I had collected of the capital’s downtown over the decades—horse and buggy streets, unique building architecture and signage, the sparseness of a small town that had since overrun itself. The man was leaning in close, lifting up his thick-framed, heavily tinted lenses.
“These are some crazy pictures,” he said, without looking over as I came in. “I don’t think I’ve seen ones like them.”
“Thanks,” I said, walking over to my desk. Another man, gray fraying about his temple, sat in front of my desk in the leather chair, wordlessly tapping a pencil on the leather molding.
“Old pictures like this,” said the man by the frames, “I’m always curious to see what I can recognize. It’s not discovering what’s missing that is so fascinating, but seeing that something has endured after all these years.”
“The more things change, as they say,” I mumbled, not sure what else to say. I shuffled uneasily, waiting for either of my visitors to get to the point, any point at all having to do with me. “Can I help you gentlemen with something?”
“Bill Stanton,” the younger man said, stepping away from the pictures and toward the desk; but rather than hold out his hand, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a card. “Special prosecutor’s office.”
The older man was still quiet, still tapping his pencil on the armrest without looking up, and it seemed clear to me now that they’d made an agreement about who was to do the talking. He was obviously displeased with the arrangement. I imagined the politics between them, of the young up-and-comer pushing aside the aged veteran.
I gestured Stanton toward the other chair by my desk and set down my briefcase. “Should I be worried?” I attempted a carefree laugh.
“We just want to have a conversation,” Stanton said, trying to make it sound lighthearted, but still something made him seem grim. There was a graininess to him, like a figure in one of those old photographs, just out of focus. But you could tell in an instant—here was a man who took the measure of things. A man of sums, someone for whom everything would eventually add up.
“You are currently associate director of the Department of Corrections?”
“If I’m not, I’m in the wrong office,” I joked.
Stanton smiled lightly, and his partner just rolled his eyes.
“Now, you used to work at the Bureau of Environmental Study.”
“Over a year ago,” I said. “I was the director for about three years. Is that what this is about? The investigation at Environmental?”
The older man looked over at his colleague, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “We’re not at liberty to say.”
“I just want to know if I’m being investigated, too, for some reason.”
The two men sat quietly for another moment, neither taking eyes off of me.
“We aren’t at liberty to say.”
“What are you at liberty to say?”
“We were hoping you might be able to help us with any information from your time working at the Bureau of Environmental Study.”
“What sort of information?”
“Anything at all that might be of interest.”
“I don’t know about anything illegal, if that’s what you’re talking about.”
“Did you ever come across anything unusual in your time working there? Did anyone ever ask you to do anything that you considered ethically… questionable?”
“Not that I recall.”
Stanton and his partner exchanged a quick look, but didn’t say anything.
“I guess that sounds incriminating,” I added quickly. “I’m not good at this kind of thing.”
“That’s fine.”
“I mean, I don’t think so. I just don’t feel comfortable speaking in absolutes.”
“That’s fine,” Stanton said again.
“I mean, my job was pretty benign. No one really ever asked me to do anything. It was a lot of paperwork. A lot of signatures. Boring stuff. Looking over recommendations and reports from the actual scientists. I wasn’t really qualified to pass judgments or anything. Basically, I just followed the recommendations that came across my desk. Pretty simple, really. I think I’d remember if someone made a special request. But I can’t be sure.”
Never having been interrogated before, and feeling the absurdity of trying to defend myself for having to defend myself, fear wasn’t really at the heart of my experience. I stood outside of myself, looking in on these men who seemed so clearly to want me to tell them something, yet unable to realize that I had nothing to tell them.
“What about your replacement. Mr. Morr?”
“What about him?
The older man sat up. “When he was your assistant, did you ever ask him to bend the rules?”
“Guess that depends upon what you mean by ‘bend.’ ” I smiled, but neither man smiled back. “I mean, no.” Slowly, it was dawning on me that my innocence wasn’t any kind of protection, and I sunk back into myself. “I’m suddenly feeling a little anxious here,” I said.
“We’re just having a conversation.”
“I wasn’t some guy with an agenda. I had no reason to bend the rules. I don’t even know what rules we’re talking about. Much less why I’d want to bend them.” I didn’t mention that I’d have had very little idea how to do so anyway.
Both men said nothing. The younger man, Stanton, seemed on the cusp of speaking, but then tapped his colleague’s sleeve.
“Well, we’ve taken up enough of your time, Mr. Brown. We do appreciate your cooperation. If we have further questions, we hope you’ll be available.” They shook my hand, Stanton’s handshake less firm, but congenial.
As they left my office, they passed by Hal, who was hovering by the door.
“I’m an idiot,” I said, watching Stanton and his colleague follow the cubicle maze out.
“No argument here. What’d they want?”
“They’re not at liberty to say.”
“They asking about Corrections?”
“No.
