Chapter12
TWELVE
Washington D.C. -- FBI
WE GOT ANOTHER
one. This time from Western Union.” Newman waved the thin pages through Vanderwaal’s door.
Dear Mr. President,
By now, I’m sure your minions are starting to put things together. They’ve, no doubt, figured out that Hawaii, Denver, and San Francisco are all connected. (They
did figure that out, didn’t they?)
Your black ops team has probably told you about eight-cycle sound, especially the part about it being virtually unstoppable. I imagine they may even be asking you to wear an extra pair of long johns with a nifty pullover hood. (Made out of paper straws, so don’t go shooting hoops in it. It tears easily!)
If you
really
want a sleepless night, ask them about seven-cycle sound. They should know all about it. They’re the ones who developed it (circa 1960, if you’re Googling).
Lest my correspondence be construed as a threat, let me assure you, Mr. President, I mean you no harm. You are, in fact, my hero (or soon will be). You’re the one who is going to set me free! I simply needed something that would get your attention.
And lest you think I’m somehow trying to blackmail you, I am not. You should only pardon me if you determine I have been falsely accused to begin with.
Absent all the lies, innuendos, stretching the truth, spinning the story, and the deft use of misdirection on the part of the prosecution at my trial, the truth is: I did
not
lie to anyone to get them to loan me money.
You, Mr. President, have unlimited resources to check me out. I encourage you to do just that.
If, after due diligence, you find that I am
not
a liar, then do the right thing and pardon me and my associates -- both in the spirit of righting those wrongs and in the spirit of forgiving those wrongs that were, of necessity, required to get your attention (and to pay my lenders what you guys stopped me from paying).
Sorry to take up so much of your time. Although when you consider the fifteen years you guys have already, and still want to, take up of mine, it may not be such an imposition after all!
Sincerely,
Dave Ruskjer
“I want a dossier on this guy from his first breath to his last dump!” Vanderwaal’s voice had an edge to it. “And I want it yesterday! Got it?”
“I’m on it,” Newman said as he headed out the door.