12
Before leaving the Weston mall, Justin went into a Barnes & Noble, strode over to the magazine rack, and stared at the rows of new magazines. By his count, eight of them had a picture of Maura Greer on the cover. Maura Greer, the onetime East End Harbor townie turned Washington intern who’d been missing for over three months. The girl whose body, according to Justin’s frantic boss, had just been found floating in East End Bay.
Justin flipped through several of the magazines, read a page of Dominick Dunne’s theorizing in Vanity Fair, checked out what Mark Singer had to say in The New Yorker. He bought them both, along with a copy of Jump magazine. He drove back to the ferry and, as it cruised across the sound back to Long Island, he read the piece in Jump. Then he read it again. And then a third time.
And he began to wonder if East End Harbor would ever again be the quiet little town it had been just forty-eight hours before.
HEALTH, WEALTH, AND … DEATH?
by
Leslee Carter Reese
On the day her daughter Maura disappeared, Rachel Greer had a psychic experience.
It had never happened to her before, not like this. Before this particular Thursday it was just the usual I-knew-who-was-on-the-phone-the-moment-it-rang or I-was-just-thinking-about-you-exactly-when-you-called kind of thing. But on February 23, at four-fifteen in the afternoon, she felt a chill sweep through her entire body. The feeling was both disturbing and enthralling. It was as if a ghost had plunged inside her, filling her with the frigid sensation of death and the glowing power that she is now convinced came with her brief foray from this world to the next and back again.
There is little question in her mind that a ghost did, in fact, plunge inside her.
There is also little question in her mind that the ghost was her twenty-four-year-old daughter, Maura Devon Greer.
Maura, who has been living in Washington, D.C., for the past eighteen months, interning at the Food and Drug Administration, has been missing for three months. She has, in essence, disappeared off the face of the earth, and her disappearance has not only caused scandal, it has disrupted the political landscape in a way not seen since the emergence of Monica Lewinsky or Chandra Levy. It has stirred widespread national debate from both the left and right about the nature of the media. In our post–September 11 world we were all going to be focused on the serious and pressing issues that swirl around us. The emphasis on celebrityhood was over, as was our obsession with scandal, sex, and frivolity. Yet, since this young Jewish girl disappeared, newspapers, magazines, television, and radio call-in shows seem to have done little but speculate about the sordid details of Maura Greer’s life and presumed death.
It is essential to the well-being of the United States and our efforts to cope with the potential threat of biological warfare that the secretary of Health and Human Services, Frank Manwaring, function without distraction. Instead, the search for Maura Greer has damaged Secretary Manwaring’s credibility, possibly beyond repair, and put a stranglehold on his effectiveness.
But most of all, Maura’s disappearance has caused heartache for her family. In the midst of our global obsession with terrorism, it is easy to forget that there are other, smaller tragedies in life. Unless, of course, you happen to be living in the middle of such a tragedy.
Maura Greer left her one-bedroom apartment in Washington, D.C., at approximately four o’clock in the afternoon on Thursday, February 23. It is presumed that she went to pick up her car, a three-year-old silver Honda Accord, in the underground garage beneath her apartment building. Although she was not spotted there, the garage was vandalized and the attendant, Hector Diaz, has also been missing since that day. (For a time, Mr. Diaz was a suspect in the disappearance, but police have since ruled out that possibility.) According to a neighbor who saw her in the hallway on her way out, there was nothing about Maura’s demeanor that struck him as strange. He did say that she was dressed rather provocatively, but Maura usually dressed provocatively. She had never been a shy girl, and that aggressiveness carried over to her sexuality. She was never afraid to voice her opinions or take over a room with her personality or use her body to give her an advantage. There was only one area of her life about which Maura seemed to turn inward, reticent to reveal details even to her closest friends: her relationship with the current man in her life.
“For the longest time, she would talk about it only in vague generalities,” said her best friend since childhood, Gay Chilcott. “I’d ask her who she was seeing and she’d get this beatific smile on her face and say things like, ‘You’ll meet him soon,’ or ‘It’s going really well but I can’t talk about it yet.’ It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was going out with a married man. From a few hints that she dropped, it was pretty obvious it was also an older married man. Then, about two weeks before she died …I mean, disappeared … she became a little more open. Started revealing a few details. She told me that he was fifty. And that he was a great lover. She also told me he was very important and she made it pretty clear he was with the government. One of the last times I talked to her on the phone she said that there was a decent chance she’d get to go to the White House and meet the president soon.”
According to friends and family, Maura’s affair had been going on for at least six months, probably closer to eight. Those who knew about the affair also knew that she expected her lover to leave his wife—and marry Maura.
“She was certain that she was going to be the winner in this relationship tug-of-war,” Chilcott says. “I told her that men do sometimes leave their wives—but I sure as hell wouldn’t count on it. But people believe what they want to believe in situations like that. And Maura believed that everything would end up happily ever after.”
So far, things have ended up anything but happily. Whether that unhappiness is forever depends on two things. Will Maura Greer turn up alive? And what will happen to her married lover—our current secretary of Health and Human Services, Frank Manwaring?
Manwaring has denied any role in Maura’s disappearance. For weeks he also denied that he and the young intern had been having an affair, but recently, as incontrovertible evidence of the affair was publicly released by the Greer family, the secretary made a televised confession and apology. Maura’s parents do not believe the confession went far enough. And they most certainly do not accept the apology.
“He denied his relationship with Maura until we forced him to admit it,” says Maura’s father, Marcus. While Rachel is strong and definite in her belief that their daughter is the victim of foul play, Marcus can’t speak about Maura without weeping, and he says he prays every day for her safe return. “Everything Frank Manwaring says has been a lie—until someone forces him to tell the truth.”
Having an affair, of course, is a far cry from committing murder. And while it’s not been proven that everything Secretary Manwaring has said about his relationship with Maura Greer has been false, many of his statements have been reticent and incomplete. Police feel he has been less than forthcoming. Maura’s parents believe he has not only hindered the investigation, they are convinced that he should be at the center of it.
On Friday, February 24, Maura was supposed to visit her parents in East End Harbor, a small town on the outskirts of Long Island’s chic Hamptons. It was Marcus’s birthday on Saturday, and Maura was going to spend the weekend celebrating. Marcus had reserved an hour of tennis at a local indoor court on both Saturday and Sunday because Maura loved to play tennis and they had a friendly competition going back to Maura’s teens. Rachel made a salon appointment for both mother and daughter on that Saturday afternoon. They were going to get facials, manicures, and pedicures. “She loved being pampered,” Rachel says. “And I loved being able to pamper my daughter.”
Marcus went to the train station to pick up Rachel. She was supposed to arrive on the 4 p.m. train. But when the train pulled away and the platform was cleared of people, there was no Maura. “At first I wasn’t too concerned,” Marcus says. “Maura was not always the most responsible person in the world, at least when it came to her parents. But when I called Rachel to see if Maura had called, she started talking about how she’d had a premonition. Rachel said that something bad had happened, that she’d felt it the day before but didn’t say anything.” So when he got home, Marcus called the Washington, D.C., police and said that Maura was missing. The D.C. police asked a few questions and, according to the Greers, basically dismissed their concern. “She hadn’t been missing long enough to be ‘missing,’” Rachel says, her voice tinged with anger. “We couldn’t get them to do anything for forty-eight hours.”
When the police finally did decide to act, they went to Maura’s apartment. What they found was a spotless home with alphabetized CDs, a closet full of designer clothes, and nothing but two cans of Diet Coke and two cartons of unflavored yogurt in the fridge. Oh yes. They also found Maura’s purse. In it were her driver’s license and all of her credit cards.
“Why would she leave her purse?” Rachel asks. “We think it’s because she was told to leave it behind. We believe that Secretary Man-waring didn’t want her to meet him if she was carrying any identification. From the things that Maura said about the relationship, the man she was seeing was obsessed with secrecy. He had all sorts of rules for her to follow when she met him. We believe that this was one of those rules. It’s why we believe she was on her way to meet him when she disappeared.”
Manwaring did indeed try to keep the affair secret. Not only is he married with two college-age children, he is in a highly visible and sensitive cabinet position, appointed by a president whose popularity is partly based on his constant reaffirmation of his belief in and the country’s need for faith and traditional family values. He is the tough, honest, anti-scandal leader. That is the image he ran on, it is the image that has kept his poll numbers higher than those of any president in recent memory, and it is the image he insists on maintaining for himself and his advisers. Manwaring’s affair does not conform to that image. It is not just damaging to the president on a political level. According to several advisers, it offends the president’s personal sensibility.
Although Manwaring at first denied that he was meeting Maura the day she disappeared, the Greers also forced him to admit the truth about that. Maura had a reservation at a local Marriott Hotel and was due to check in the afternoon of February 23. Manwaring admitted, nearly a month after Maura went missing, that he was supposed to meet her there and spend the afternoon and evening with her in the suite they regularly frequented.
Two weeks after Maura’s disappearance, the D.C. police had uncovered no clues and had no leads in the case. They had not made a connection to Manwaring at this point. That came after the Greers got their phone bill. While scrutinizing it, Marcus Greer noticed that there were several long-distance calls made that month to a Washington number he was unfamiliar with. He realized that the dates of the calls coincided with the last weekend Maura had visited East End Harbor. He mentioned this to Rachel, who immediately went to the phone and dialed the number. It was a pager. Fifteen minutes later, the Greers’ phone rang. The call to the pager was being returned. The person who returned it was Secretary Frank Manwaring.
The Greers asked Manwaring if he knew their daughter. He was nonplussed, they say, and evasive. He refused to speak to them. They immediately took their information to the Washington police. It took the police another four days before they contacted Manwaring. They went to his D.C. apartment, interviewed him for half an hour, then released a statement that the secretary knew Maura Greer, they were friends and nothing more, and that he had absolutely nothing to do with her disappearance. The police announced that he was not a suspect.
The media immediately jumped on the story. Two days after it was made public, a woman named Eva Grey called a press conference. Ms. Grey is a lap dancer at a Washington club called Privates. At the conference, she revealed that several years earlier she had had a four-month-long affair with Secretary Manwaring. The affair ended, she said, when she confronted him about his promise to leave his wife. According to Ms. Grey, the secretary got violent during the conversation. She alleges that he choked her until she almost passed out and told her that if she ever brought up the subject of his divorce again, he would make sure she disappeared. Secretary Manwaring immediately called a press conference to say that not only was Ms. Grey’s story untrue, he had never met her or heard of her.
In the weeks that followed, two other women came forward with similar stories. One woman, Esther Forrester, is a secretary at a Washington insurance company; the other, Felicity Black, is an out-of-work advertising executive. Both said that when their affairs with Secretary Manwaring became serious they talked to him about his promise to leave his wife and he became enraged and violent and ended the relationship.
At this moment, the various mysteries remain as such. What will happen to Frank Manwaring? He denies ever having met Ms. Grey or either of the two other women. He did—nearly a month after Maura’s disappearance—admit to the affair with her but denies knowing anything about what has happened to her. There has been a tremendous public outcry for Secretary Manwaring to step down from his cabinet position, something he has thus far refused to do. There is also great political pressure being put on him to resign. The head of the Food and Drug Administration, where Maura Greer was interning and where she met Mr. Manwaring, is Chase Welles. Mr. Welles is the man most often rumored to be Mr. Manwaring’s replacement. Welles has a close relationship with the president, and his positions are often much more in line with the president’s. Manwaring and the president have differed publicly on the question of stem-cell research. The president has signed a bill restricting such research and is on record as opposing it on religious and moral grounds. Mr. Manwaring is a vocal proponent of the need for such research. Mr. Welles has stated that he believes the president is on the side of the angels when it comes to this issue.
Welles and Manwaring have clashed repeatedly and angrily over the past several months, particularly over the potential ban of Rectose 4, a new drug that passes fat through the body without being absorbed. Since Rectose 4 appeared on the market just over twelve months ago, there are reports that sixteen people who have taken it have died. Secretary Manwaring infuriated lobbyists and drug companies, particularly the KranMar Corporation—which has donated large sums of money to the president in the past and which holds the patent on Rectose 4—by demanding that the product be taken off the market. Mr. Welles has opposed Secretary Manwaring’s demands, saying that the drug is safe and has been properly tested and approved. He has implied that he believes Manwaring’s decisions are suspect and steeped in corruption. He has not accused Mr. Manwaring of taking bribes from KranMar’s competition, but it has not been difficult to read between the lines of Mr. Welles’s criticisms.
Secretary Manwaring did not return phone calls asking for a comment for this article, but a close friend has said that “he feels that his mistakes have been of a personal and private nature. He has committed no crime and has told no lies. In this time of perpetual national crisis, he feels he is the best man to hold his position and he intends to hold it until he is asked to step aside by the president of the United States.”
At the heart of it all is, of course, the question of what has happened to Maura Greer. Is she dead, as her mother believes? Or will she suddenly return home, safe and sound, as her father so desperately hopes?
Right now, there are no answers. There is only the missing twenty-four-year-old woman whose disappearance reminds us that tragedies do not only happen on grand and global scales.
They happen to everyday people in everyday life.
When the ferry docked, Justin Westwood drove straight to the East End Harbor police station. During the fifteen-minute drive, he tried to figure out how Maura Greer’s body had wound up back in her hometown. Had she come into town to see someone without telling her parents? A lover? That didn’t make sense, not if the stories about her relationship with Frank Manwaring were to be believed. So why would she come back without telling anyone? And if she hadn’t come back, how did she wind up in the water there?
When he arrived at the station, Justin quickly learned that several of the mysteries he’d just read about surrounding Maura Greer and Secretary Frank Manwaring had now been solved.
He learned that at four-thirty that morning Hank Lobel, a local resident who made his living installing sprinkler systems, had taken two buddies out on his twenty-six-foot Hunter 260 for a day of sailing, beer drinking, and fishing in the waters of East End Bay. A fishing line had snagged on something in the water. Under the influence of many cans of Budweiser, the men refused to cut the line, determined to haul in whatever was causing the problem. After a lengthy struggle, they dragged in the decayed and gnawed-upon body of Maura Greer. By the time Justin returned from Connecticut, the coroner had determined that Maura had not drowned but rather had been killed, her neck broken, before being put in the bay. The lengthy investigation into her disappearance was now a murder investigation.
As soon as the news had leaked out about the discovery of Maura’s corpse and the ensuing coroner’s report, a CNN report revealed that Frank Manwaring had been in East Hampton, just several miles from where Maura’s body had been found. He had been there two and a half months earlier, which was the approximate length of time the coroner estimated the body had been in the water. Minutes after that report aired, the secretary of Health and Human Services was asked by the president of the United States to resign. Chase Welles, head of the FDA, was immediately named as Manwaring’s replacement and there was expected to be no trouble with his confirmation. The president called a press conference and read a prepared statement that said: “I wholeheartedly believe in Secretary Manwaring’s innocence. I believe his statements that he had nothing to do with the tragic death of Maura Greer, and I accept at face value his rejection of all the other charges and accusations that have been leveled at him. However, in these very dangerous times, the fact that the secretary is now involved in a murder investigation, however peripheral his involvement, will be such a major distraction that I no longer feel he can fulfill his duties in a timely and competent manner. I am confident that Chase Welles will be a superb secretary, more than capable of handling this crucial cabinet position.”
At his own press conference, Frank Manwaring declared his innocence in Maura Greer’s murder. He also reiterated that all the other women who had revealed their relationships with him were lying. “For what reason, I don’t know,” he said. “I assume that greed enters into it and it is a sad day when greed overcomes any and all sense of morality.” He refused to comment on his replacement other than to warn against changes in current policy. Secretary Manwaring also said that he would no longer comment publicly on the Maura Greer situation. He had been told to keep silent from this point forward. When asked who had told him to keep silent, the secretary declined to comment.
Rachel and Marcus Greer held a press conference too. They tearfully expressed gratitude that they at last had some closure but said that, of course, their gratitude was tainted by their sorrow. They stated that they did not believe Secretary Manwaring’s declarations of innocence and ignorance, and they demanded that he take a lie-detector test. When that demand was relayed to Frank Manwaring, he nodded and said that he would be happy to take such a test, but before he could finish making a commitment, he was hustled away by two aides.
Justin learned all this from Special Agent Len Rollins of the FBI. He learned from his boss, Jimmy Leggett, that the Maura Greer murder now took precedence over the investigation into Susanna Morgan’s death.
“Since when is one murder more important than the next?” Justin asked.
“I thought you said he wouldn’t be any trouble,” Agent Rollins said to Leggett, not even bothering to look at Justin.
Leggett, slowly shaking his head, said, “The media’s going to be all over this, Jay.” Leggett sounded rattled. Scared. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that we’re not exactly the New York City Police Department and that this is not our area of expertise. I’m not telling you to forget about Susanna Morgan, I’m telling you there are priorities.”
“What are the priorities?” Justin said, looking straight at Rollins. “You guys covering your ass because you didn’t do shit for three months and now you’ve got a body so you’re looking kind of stupid?”
Rollins smiled and nodded. It was not a friendly smile. It was the smile of someone who was acknowledging that he’d do whatever it took to fight back and win. Rollins looked as if he knew a lot about winning, too. He was six-one, maybe six-two, a muscular two hundred pounds. Justin guessed that he’d played college football. Or had spent a few years in the marines. He had the aura of someone who didn’t shy away from physical contact. He was in his mid-forties with dark hair that didn’t show any signs of thinning. Justin decided that this guy was a player. His instinct was immediately proven correct.
“I know all about you, Westwood,” Agent Rollins said. “We checked you out. You may have been a hot-shit guy at one time in your life, but that doesn’t mean f*ck-all right now. I’m not looking to be a hard-ass, but it won’t bother me, either. There’s shit going on that you don’t know anything about and my guess is you never will. But Maura Greer is my priority. It’s the government’s priority. You don’t want to go along with that, fine. You want me to get you put on permanent leave, no problem—that can be arranged in about a minute. You want to stay on the job and collect your paycheck and do what you’ve been doing for the last six years, which is getting drunk and handing out parking tickets and feeling sorry for yourself, what you do is say ‘Yes sir’ to me whenever I tell you to do something and otherwise you stay the f*ck out of my way. Is that understood?” When Justin didn’t say anything, Rollins took the hard-ass edge out of his voice and said, as if they were best friends talking about nothing more important than borrowing a lawn mower for the day’s chores, “I can use you, Jay—you mind if I call you Jay? I know you know what you’re doing, you’ve got more experience than anyone else. I value that. I can use you here. But if you don’t want to be used, say so now, because I promise you, if you f*ck around with me I’ll step on you like the frightened little bug that you are.” The smile came back on the FBI agent’s face and so did the edge in his voice. “Now is that understood?”
Justin narrowed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath. He felt his lungs contract, realized his breathing would come only in short, quick gasps. He exhaled twice, ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the two idiot cops, Gary and Brian, looking in at him from the other room, waiting to hear his response. Brian’s mouth seemed to be stitched together. Two teeth were missing and the lower half of his face was as swollen as a balloon. Despite that, Justin could see the smirk there. He could see the pleasure Brian was getting from eavesdropping.
Justin thought of many things he wanted to say to Special Agent Len Rollins. He ran through all of them in his mind, which was why it took him so long to respond. But when he finally did speak, what he said was, “Yes sir, it’s understood.”
“Good,” Agent Rollins said. “Now here’s your first assignment. Try not to get too drunk tonight. Take tomorrow off. Don’t do a thing. Relax and get used to the fact that we’re in charge now. I want you to forget about this Susanna Morgan thing for the moment. Whatever you think is going on there, it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it. I’ve talked to the Middleview police and the East Hampton force and they’re on top of it. It’s their case now. I’ve made Officer Meves their contact in this office.”
“Officer Meves …?” He suddenly realized that Rollins meant Brian. Brian was in charge of the Susanna Morgan investigation? “For chrissake—”
“For chrissake what, Detective Westwood?”
“The girl was murdered,” Justin said. “That’s got to mean something.”
“It does. It means that it’s being handled in exactly the manner I’ve just described to you. We have other priorities. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes sir.”
Agent Rollins let his face relax. His eyes revealed no emotion other than pleasure in the fact that he’d just won. “Day after tomorrow, I want you here at eight a.m. sharp. We’ll have your assignment for the Maura Greer case.” Justin didn’t respond, just stood silently until Agent Rollins said, “You’re dismissed.”
Justin nodded, turned on his heel, strode past Brian and Gary without looking at either of them, marched out the front door of the station, went straight to Duffy’s, told Donnie the bartender to bring him a double scotch. He proceeded to stay there for four hours. He didn’t leave until he was positive he was drunk enough that for the rest of the night, until whenever he woke up the next day, he couldn’t possibly speak or think or feel or, most important of all, dream.