Monica Johnston called Dominic Burke's cell phone number in the best of moods. It was a good feeling, almost a joy, to contribute to resolving this terrible injustice. After all, Granther and his warped worldview had gone unchallenged for far too long. Even the Catholics had begun to clean up their ranks, to admit child abuse in the church and its institutions, and to take responsibility for it, so it was the least that an enlightened and progressive metropolis like Boston did not lag behind on the issue.
Indeed, Monica Johnston had managed to find the file references of all the cases involved in this terrible experiment, as the alleged scientist himself had called it—at least those that had been the responsibility of her youth welfare office at the time. It was to be feared that there would be more cases in other youth welfare offices in Boston and throughout the state. But that was something for the next step. First, she had to clean up her own backyard.
"Burke," the employee of Ashlyn O'Laighin answered.
"Johnston here; hello, Mr. Burke. I have good news. It seems that we still have numerous files in our archive. But that's not all. I matched the last names of the children involved to the file numbers. Even though that wasn't that easy. Because all the records should have been destroyed long ago. It's probably only thanks to Boston's sloppiness that a large proportion of the archived files were all still exactly where they had been dumped many years ago. And not, as required by law, long since destroyed."
"Great," she heard Dominic say at the other end of the line. 'And how on earth did you figure out, I mean, that the files are all still there?'
"Simple. Our janitor told me. Nobody knows the building like he does, and the files are usually just dumped and forgotten."
"Perfect," Dominic replied. "And what does that mean for me now?"
"It's simple. The files are being pulled from the archive and should be ready for you next Wednesday."
xxx
Five minutes after the appointed time, Ashlyn hurried into the courthouse, where Micaela's office was, in the endless corridors. She had yet to find a parking space, a circumstance becoming increasingly problematic in Boston.
Two minutes later, she knocked on Micaela's door. Since she had yet to reach the ADA by phone in advance, she had no idea what Micaela's decision was. Anything was possible, from a mere dismissal of the case to further investigation and prosecution of Cantus.
Ashlyn opened the door, and to her surprise, Micaela greeted the blonde with a smile. Ashlyn hadn't expected that after their last meeting, which had ended somewhat controversially.
"Hey, Ash, I'm glad you're here. Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, please. And I'm sorry I'm late."
Micaela looked at the wall clock and then back at Ashlyn. "No problem, I didn't even notice. I was so absorbed in a file." Micaela got up and went to the sideboard, where a capsule machine stood. "Espresso or coffee?"
"Espresso. Double, please."
"All right," the brunette replied, placing a cup under the machine and pressing a button. A short time later, the dark liquid steamed into the cup. A wonderful smell filled the small office. After Micaela had made herself an espresso, they sat at the small meeting table.
"I'm sorry," Ashlyn began, 'for ambushing you with the documents like that last time.'
"Nonsense, what else could you have done?" Micaela replied, shaking her head. "I wasn't in an excellent mood. It's a bit busy at the moment. Both privately and professionally, I mean. And the thought of actually indicting the leading candidate, who is also the head of the police force, not for a long-past involvement in a possible abuse scandal, but for murder, was the last straw at that moment."
"More like a whole bucket of water than just a drop," Ashlyn smiled.
"Right. But anyway. I discussed the matter with Saunters, and we gave our cybercrime professionals at the BPD the information you provided."
Ashlyn pricked up her ears. She was curious to see where this was going. 'So, what did you find out?'
"Well, at first, our guys didn't get anywhere, but then Nicole, our new recruit, could understand everything."
"So you confirmed that the Cantus computer was in contact with professional killers on the Darknet?"
"Well, we were able to confirm that there was contact from a computer to a site that claims to offer such, let's say, services. Whether it's really killers or scammers or weirdos behind it, we can't say yet."
"And now?" Ashlyn asked, frowning.
"Now we will follow up on the whole thing and see if it is Cantus Computer. Since he is not just anybody and an indictment without question will destroy his career forever, we have to be absolutely sure. We have already applied for a warrant to monitor his cell phone and computers. I expect to get the order today or tomorrow. And then we will collect data and assemble the puzzle pieces."
As happy as Ashlyn was that the DA's office was not only taking the matter seriously but also putting the investigative apparatus into high gear, it was also clear to her that the whole thing would not lead to an indictment overnight. The mills of justice ground thoroughly and slowly so they would have no choice but to continue their investigation in parallel.
But what the heck, Ashlyn thought. Besides Mom and Dom, we have two more members on Team Garner. Micaela. And the Boston DA's Office.
xxx
"Good morning, Tim. How are you?" Ashlyn asked, who had been calling her client regularly every other day since she had placed him with Holland.
"Better, thanks," Garner replied at the other end of the line.
Ashlyn had the impression that he actually sounded happier and less drained and empty. "Excellent. Listen," she continued because she had a specific thing in mind. "I'd like to ask you a few more questions. About the time you had with Child Protective Services back then. I mean, when you came to your foster father. Would that be okay?"
Ashlyn heard Garner breathe on the other end of the line. There was silence for about ten seconds, then her client replied, "Yes. Okay. We can do that. What exactly is it about?"
"We have some information that Marcus Cantu, our interior senator, was also involved. Before he went into politics and climbed the career ladder, we know that he worked for the Department of Children and Family Services. In a recent interview, he said he was involved in the Granther experiment. I'd like to know if you can remember anything about that."
Garner didn't answer at first, so Ashlyn wondered for the second time in a short period of time whether the line had been interrupted. Then Garner replied, "Somehow, yes. But I can't put my finger on it."
"And what exactly can't you put your finger on?"
"His voice sounds familiar. The way he speaks. The other day, I also saw him on TV with that pretty dark-haired presenter. He said something like that then, too. Something very typical."
"Do you remember what it was?" Ashlyn asked.
"Let me think. Yes ... I think I remember. He said something like it's important to make difficult decisions sometimes or something like that. And that, in the end, it would be for the best."
xxx
Marcus Cantu spread cream cheese on a breakfast bagel. He took a bite and chewed the morsel slowly before returning to the article in the Boston Observer. The second in the series was about the Granther experiment. After the extensive and undoubtedly very emotional interview with Tim Garner the previous week, this newspaper article by Tracy Payne initially focused on Granther's background. Granther had a managerial role at the Boston Pedagogical Center, a Senate Education Administration subordinate agency. He later taught as a professor of social pedagogy at the University of Connecticut. In addition, he regularly appeared as an expert and was highly regarded in professional circles.
Yes, he did, Cantu thought. That's why Granther's activities were despicable and probably plunged more people into the abyss than most other initiatives in the country.
Cantu took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm, which he managed exceptionally well. After another bite and a large gulp of coffee, he continued reading.
In the following paragraphs, Payne first explained in general terms how the Boston-area child protective services had been sending children and teenagers into the hands of pedophile men for decades based on Granther's recommendations and then traced the specific fates of Tim Garner and Justin Booker. The article ended when Garner and Booker unsuccessfully turned to child protective services and later to the DA's office, failing with their plan to obtain clarification and justice. In addition, there was a note about the continuation next week, in which Payne wanted to deal in detail with the work-up within the child protective services and the support of the victims.
Cantu took the last bite of his bagel and swallowed it with a gulp of coffee. Then he folded up the newspaper and pushed it away.
The responsible and acting persons, then. Cantu had laid the groundwork in recent weeks through his offensive appearance on television to ensure that his involvement was not seen in a bad light. However, there was still a lot that could prove his actual responsibility. Numerous file notes, orders, and notes that he was able to withhold again and again in the proceedings at the time or only provided in part could still be in the archives. Cantu knew from an earlier case when he needed a file that the timely destruction of paper files in Boston only worked in exceptional cases. And that could pose a problem for him. The files would show that he had supported Granther's actions and, in many cases, even paved the way for them. Under no circumstances could these files fall into the hands of Tracy Payne. Cantu had already found out on Friday where these files were archived. In this context, he had also learned that there had already been a request to view these files.
Cantu thought the request might exist, and a smile appeared on his face. However, it remains to be seen whether it will also yield the desired result.
He reached for his cell phone and dialed the number of a colleague who still owed him a favor.
"Mr. Cantu, to what do I owe the honor of your call?" Robert Pollard answered.
"Quite simply, Robert. I want to ask you to do a little reforestation in our archives. I mean, a few files are still no longer needed."
Pollard laughed loudly. "Reforestation. That's what they call it today."
Cantu joined in the laughter, although it was actually distasteful to him. But he didn't feel like dealing with Pollard for long. The man should do what was asked of him. "Yes, that's what it's called," he replied, seemingly cheerful. "And because I know you'd like to help me, I'll send you the list of processes I had in mind. If I'm not mistaken, they should have been destroyed long ago. So we're logging here legally."
"Aye, aye, captain," Pollard replied jokingly and laughed out loud. After he said goodbye, Cantu looked at his phone in disgust. Now, he owed Pollard a favor.