ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 2

There were two successful bank robberies in the Metro-Chicago area last year. There were also twelve foiled bank robberies that same year. Of those twelve, Hobson was directly involved in stopping eight of them; however, of the other four, three were warned by an anonymous tip moments before the robbers got there, and at the last one, a blind lady warned the bank, her name was Marissa Clark. So, why did Hobson stop twelve robberies but not all fourteen? What was it about those two that caused him to not be involved? The obvious answer is that he had something to gain from it. Somehow those two robberies benefited him in some way. I also find it significant that no money from either of those robberies has ever turned up in circulation; nor have the robbers been caught. I know Hobson was behind them both, and I'm gonna find out how.

McGinty's was about as middle class as you can get. No commodity brokers; no bikers, just an average base of patrons, and a pretty good menu. George and Tony ran the kitchen like a Swiss watch. They had free reign to try new things, without going overboard. Abby, Tony's wife, helped Marissa with the books when she wasn't at the Library, and Robin, who was now assistant manager, took care of the floor. Then, of course, there was Crumb behind the bar, dispensing both drinks and wisdom, and keeping the rowdier elements in line. This support group, overseen by Marissa, allowed Gary all the time and resources he needed to handle the paper's demands. It was a pretty good night for a Wednesday. The Bulls were on the big screen; unfortunately they were in the process of getting hammered by the Pistons. Gary grimaced, he could live with the Bulls or the Cubs or the Sox or the Bears or the Black Hawks losing, as long as it wasn't to some damned team from Detroit. Ah well, he had more important business tonight. He maneuvered Brigatti over to his table, and motioned for Robin to bring over a menu. He waited while Brigatti sat down and then sat himself. He looked over at her, but she was watching the game.

"You follow the Bulls?"

"Hell no, I'm originally from Pontiac, I love the Pistons." She gave a 'whoop' as Ben Wallace blocked yet another shot. This earned her several dirty looks, especially from the man sitting across from her.

"Um, you might want to keep that down here, we are in Chicago after all."

She ordered the 'Chef's Salad', and a bowl of soup, he got a grinder. "Lighten up Hobson; it's been forever since I've even caught part of a game. So, you, the paper and everything."

"What do you want to know?"

"Just begin at the beginning, and we'll go from there."

"OK, about six years ago, my wife decided she wanted a divorce, so I moved into this hotel called 'The Blackstone' . . . ."

About six hours later, and surviving surprised looks from most of the staff, the two were shooting pool. Brigatti was giving Gary quite a run for his money. The staff had gone home, as well as the patrons, so they had the bar to themselves.

"So, she told her whole family that you two were getting married and the lot of them came over from Ireland for the wedding."

"Yeah, it turns out she married the INS agent who was looking for her; unfortunately he had been knocked out by her brothers and put in a dumpster. We all had to steal a bus to go rescue him, before he became part of a landfill."

"I gotta tell you Hobson, you never do anything halfway."

"Thanks, I think."

"So, why are you letting me in on a secret this huge now, after all the time we've known each other?"

Gary blushed a bit, "I figured that if there was a future possibility of us, I had to be honest with you. I couldn't stand lying to someone I really care about."

"Care about, what are you babbling about Hobson?"

He put down his cue and walked towards her; suddenly she felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move. "I-I-I really care about you Brigatti, and I believe that it might be l-l-love; I don't want to loose that because you find out something that I've been hiding. If there is gonna be a relationship, I want you to know the truth."

He had stopped right in front of her, gazing down into her luminous brown eyes. Her face was slowly getting red, the blush climbing her cheeks.

"You think you love me?" The hope and fear flared in her eyes.

"I think so, yeah; so I'd really like to get to know you better. You're a fascinating, beautiful, brilliant woman; and I'd be an idiot to let you go if there's a possibility that you're the one."

She gazed at him silently for a moment or two, his words sinking in; "you think I'm beautiful" she murmured as they leaned in for a long, satisfying kiss.

"Yeah Toni, I think you're beautiful."

They were enjoying another kiss when suddenly she went stiff.

"What's the matter Brigatti?"

"I'm supposed to be dead, aren't I? I mean you've helped me out of at least two jams, I was supposed to die those times, wasn't I?"

"Actually, it's been four times, and yeah, you were supposed to die; but I stopped it, like I did with the lady today."

Her eyes were wide, and she looked a bit afraid of the handsome man in front of her; "that's why you called that time and told me to wear my vest and carry a spare gun, you knew it was gonna go bad."

"You were just gonna get shot, but Armstrong was supposed to die that day; like I said, that's the kind of stuff I stop."

"Why?"

"Howzat?"

"Why do you stop fate, I mean if someone is supposed to die, shouldn't they die; what about God's plan in all of this?"

"I just can't sit back and let someone be killed or hurt if I can prevent it. When I first started getting this thing, I ignored a story and a friend of mine was put in the hospital; I just am unable to sit back and let people be hurt, I just can't. As to God's plan and all, I'd like to think we have a bit of say in that plan, and maybe what I'm doing is preserving the balance, or keeping fate from running amok, or something like that."

The fear had left her face, but another thought hit her; "you could be a multi-millionaire, couldn't you. Place the right bet, pick the right stock; you could use that thing to buy and sell Bill Gates, couldn't you?"

"Yeah, that's occurred to me once or twice; it occurred to Chuck all the time, but I guess it just feels wrong to use it that way. Don't get me wrong, money is great stuff to have, but I couldn't stand using something this momentous just to make myself rich; it's just too big for that."

"So instead you 'Clark Kent' your way through life as Gary Hobson, bar owner; without anyone really knowing how this whole city depends on you. Has anyone ever gotten close to the truth, I mean someone that you didn't tell?"

"Scanlon was on the trail, but he just couldn't wrap his mind around the whole 'altruistic psychic' bit, and he was digging pretty hard. What?"

At the mention of the reporter's name, Brigatti had gotten a pained expression on her face. She gazed up at Gary with real hurt in her eyes. "I wanted to tell you for the longest time, I'm sorry I didn't help you when you asked me. I knew you were innocent, in my gut I knew; but I couldn't bring myself to admit it. It's haunted me sometimes how close I came to shooting you, sometimes in my nightmares, I do." She had dropped her gaze to the floor, and her voice had thickened with emotion. "I'm just so sorry Gary."

"It's OK, and hey; you helped out plenty later on, risking your life and all for me and Armstrong. You were doing your job, something you're good at, never apologize for that." He put two fingers under her chin and raised her eyes to his. His words had been sincere, he hadn't blamed her for her actions, and he truly had been thankful for everything that she had done to help clear him.

"You're a good guy Gary; I guess that somehow I've always known that." She moved towards him and found comfort in the circle of his arms. They just stood there, neither of them wanting to break the moment. Unfortunately the church clock down the street did that for them, chiming three A.M.

"Oh my God, I've got to get home; I've got to be at work in the morning."

"You can stay here if you want; I've slept on the couch before."

"You sure? After all, I'm shorter than you."

"Yeah, I'm sure; they'd revoke my 'Chivalry License' if I let a lovely lady sleep on the couch while I took the bed."

She fluttered her eyes at him and with a breathless, teasing tone said "thank you kind sir for saving this damsel in distress."

Gary laughed, and as they were headed up the stairs he said "you're no damsel Brigatti, and I've never seen you in distress."

Toni laughed back, "and don't you forget it Hobson."

Meredith Carson was asleep in her car at a rest area just east of South Bend, Indiana. She had run west from DC; in Dayton she had ditched her car in a mall parking lot, after changing the plates. She had taken this particular plate off of a junked care that was the same make and model as hers. With any luck it would never be traced to her, even if it was found. She had picked up a beater there, and had gotten this far. She would be in Chicago tomorrow. She hoped that that would be the end of her running; she hoped she'd be safe there; and she hoped Gary's eyes weren't as gorgeous as she remembered.