The Fallen
- Автор: Паркер Т. Джефферсон
- Год: 2006
- Язык: английский
- Год: William Morrow
- ISBN: 978-0-06-056238-0
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Fallen». Краткое содержание книги:
“I know Garrett disliked my policies,” he said suddenly. “We didn’t agree on how certain things should be done. He wanted more money for Ethics, but we gave them all that we could, under the circumstances.”
“He wrote about those disagreements in his investigation notes,” I said.
Sarvonola nodded and stared at each of us in turn. He had the patience of a man used to being listened to.
“And I know about all that sex stuff he recorded — Fellowes, Mincher, Rood, and that prick Stiles — all of it. Even our little bond-rating friend from New York. Yeah, Garrett sat right there where you are and showed me some highlights. Made me wish I was young again. He asked me what I thought he should do with it. I appreciated that about Garrett. You could talk to him. He cared what you thought.”
It was interesting that Sarvonola told us about the sex videos before we’d even mentioned them. How did he know we’d seen them?
“What was your advice?” I asked.
“I said first get the whoremongers together and show them the video. Tell them we can’t have that kind of thing going on. Tell them if they do it again, they’re fired — end of discussion. And if they squawk, threaten to tell the Union-Tribune why they got canned. That’ll shut them up, believe me. Then break up that disc and flush it down the nearest toilet, which is out the door and down the hallway ten steps.”
“Garrett wouldn’t do that,” said McKenzie. “He’d want to do more than just slap their wrists.”
“True,” said Sarvonola. “We had two very different opinions on what this city needs. Which is what you’d expect from an ethics investigator like Garrett and a policy maker like myself. Garrett wanted a legal solution — grand jury indictments, criminal charges, rolling heads. I can understand that. It has logic and the flair of retribution. But it would have dragged our city through the sewer. It would cost us hundreds of thousands of dollars to prosecute those men, it would dirty the face we show to the world, and it would slow the flow of dollars that keeps us all alive and healthy and happy. It would open the door to state or federal regulation, which is clearly unnecessary. For example, because of its scandals of years ago, the Los Angeles Police Department is now overseen by federal monitors. Ours is not. We will not let it be. We’ll monitor ourselves. We’ll take care of our own problems. In our city you good police are free to enforce the laws. We’re America’s Finest City, not America’s Horniest City. In spite of what Mr. Asplundh’s videos depict.”
I thought about Abel’s approach, and I pulled out a page I’d printed from Garrett’s notes.
“What’s that?” asked Sarvonola.
“Garrett wrote this,” I said. “‘Think about it for one second, Stella. Sarvonola says no more money for Ethics. Just like there was no more money for fire protection while half the county burned and the firefighters didn’t have enough batteries for their walkie-talkies. And don’t forget we’ve got good honest city workers with a failing pension after some of them paid into it for thirty years. These are just more examples of the collapse that’s coming, Stella. The crash that nobody will talk about.’”
“He was a Boy Scout, an altar boy, and an alarmist,” said Sarvonola. “San Diego won’t crash.”
“Why not?” asked McKenzie. “If we’re spending more than we’re taking in, then do the math.”
“I have, and we’ll just do what we’ve always done,” said Sarvonola. “Raise taxes, cut services, sell off prime real estate holdings to developers for pennies on the dollar and float billions in bonds. Then we can afford to buy batteries and fill up the pension buckets that we’ve been emptying for years to balance the budget. It’s boom and bust. Simple.”
“That just makes the next generation pay for the mess,” said McKenzie.
“So?” asked Sarvonola. “What are kids for?”
He smiled his large, yellow smile again.
“I should know — I’ve got eight children, twenty-four or — five grandkids, and six great-grandchildren. And do they care about San Diego’s debt? Hell no. I’ll tell you what they care about — it isn’t debt, and it isn’t batteries for walkie-talkies, and it’s not some library full of outdated books when they can get everything they need online anyway, no — it’s new stadiums and teams and really good parks and recreation programs. It’s clean air and water and perfect beaches and high property values. It’s plenty of good stores and discount warehouses. It’s zoning out the useless and the unsuccessful and working with business that will bring in dollars. Bring in dollars. It’s development, then redevelopment, then replanning, then rezoning, then more development all over again. That’s prosperity. Prosperity. That’s what I work for. That’s what I represent — the policy of prosperity.”
Sarvonola, as chairman of the Budget Oversight Committee, was afforded a rather nice office in City Hall. I looked through his window at the clear, sunny day. We were seven stories up. I could see some of the bay, and Point Loma beyond it, then the unhurried Pacific all the way to the horizon.
“What Garrett represented was the policy of honest government and honest business,” I said. “Without that, everyone defaults to the lowest common denominator — they start thinking like you.”
Sarvonola’s dark eyes shone with apparent mirth. He smiled again. “Exactly, exactly, Detective. That’s why we hired him and that’s why it’s such a tragedy he’s gone. So let’s just pick up the pieces and try to go on with the business of living our lives. That’s what Mr. Asplundh would have wanted us to do.”
“We pesky cops are paid to find out who killed him,” said McKenzie.
Sarvonola sat back and stared at McKenzie, then at me. “Look, I’m sorry he got killed. I always liked him. We’d talked just a few days before. And I’m sorry his daughter drowned. So little and innocent — that’s a tragedy. And I’m sorry for the wife he left behind, though I imagine she’ll find a way to be well taken care of. In fact, she’ll get some of his city pension someday, if she qualifies.”
“If there’s any money left in the pension,” I said.
“We’ll fill that pension fund back up,” said Sarvonola. “You watch.”
“Did you discuss those sex videos with anyone?” I asked. “Did you tell anyone about them?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You gotta be kidding. Garrett came to me for advice. I gave it. I knew he wouldn’t take it. He knew he wouldn’t take it.”
No red squares.
“Why did he talk to you about what he’d found?” asked McKenzie.
“Didn’t you notice? Because I’m the only heavy hitter who doesn’t have at least one associate on Garrett’s videos. The mayor? He’s got Rood and Stiles. The chief of police? Fellowes and Mincher. Fire department, City Hall — all present and accounted for. But the Budget Oversight Committee? We’re clean.”
Sarvonola smiled as if for a camera.
“Did Garrett tell you exactly what he planned to do with the videos?” I asked.
“Naw,” said Sarvonola. “He kept his cards close. He lobbied me for more money for the Ethics Authority next year. Said they needed phone-intercept hardware, more cars, a better phone system in the Enforcement building. Then we talked Chargers for a while, then baseball. You know, for having his knickers in a knot about what the city spent for the new ballpark, Garrett really liked the Padres.”
“But you understood that Garrett was going to have to deal with those people in the video?” asked McKenzie.
“Of course I did. It was in his nature to deal with such people. I told him good luck if he wanted to bust them all, but it was the worst thing he could do for this city. And you know what? That got his attention. It bothered Garrett Asplundh because he was a good man and he loved this place and he understood that the damage done by a few fools doesn’t stop when you toss them in jail.”