“Some people are wired to immediately find a cause greater than themselves. Others take a little more time. You always believed in Grandfather’s stories. You subscribe to the rules of the Force. My mind keeps railing against them. I kept wanting to find some loophole.”
Jonathan broke off, and Benny wondered for the first time how two people so close could be so, so different. “I need you to come with us tomorrow and make sure none of the three bombs that David planted will actually go off.” He took a small map he had drawn and passed it over.
Benny wanted to sustain the moment and let the world slip by. Talk to Jonathan, lighten the mood, slip into the past. Save him! Yes, he wanted to save him. Take him out of this guilt and misdirection and make him see that it would all be set to right again. Then he could slip back into the way things were.
“It will all turn right, tomorrow,” Benny decided with cautious optimism. “I can prove now that you weren’t the mastermind behind these slaughters, and we can work out some kind of reduced sentence.” He thought for a moment. “You came and found me. You turned yourself in. You helped stop a massive explosion. That has to hold some weight in court.”
Jonathan held up his hand. “I can’t get out of this one. I’ve dug myself in too deep. They’ll cart me off to the gallows the minute you point in my direction.”
Benny shook his head violently. “I won’t let them. Then we’ll run for it. We’ll go to Europe.”
Jonathan chuckled. “Are you listening to yourself? Royal Northwest Mounted Police fugitive of the law? You always get your man, Ben. You’ve got him.”
“I wanted to find you. Not arrest you. Now I wish I had never found you.”
“I know.”
“I would do anything if it meant giving you a chance, Jonathan.”
“I’m the albatross around your neck, Ben.” Jonathan chewed his lip. “But it has to be you,” he muttered after a painful silence. “At the end. Turn me in. Just you. Tomorrow, after we foil Ross’s plan.”
“I want you to have the chance of a life, Jonathan. You’ll serve your time and lay low for a while. Don’t you want to make your way back to the old homestead? Get out your compass? Track a few lynx? You’d love the Yukon. My cabin there is small but cozy, and you see all the seasons! Winter there is crisper and whiter than anywhere else. Pure, somehow.”
“Pure?”
“Without any kind of stain or footprint. Just a blank, wonderful canvas with all measure of possibility for adventure.”
“You go dream about that adventure, Ben.” Jonathan rose and took the two strides to the door.
“What are you going to do?”
“See the streets of Chicago one last time.”
“Jonathan, surely you can’t think that… ”
“It’s not quite our northern wilderness,” Jonathan said with a gruff chuckle. “But it will have to do.”
* * *
*Merinda would never admit to the slight pang in her chest at the realization that Benny would miss her golden moment.
?Benny could rant and rail about his reputation as a member of the Force, but in this instance, Merinda would compel him to rely on something more concrete than his reputation and good name.
?This was one word he had not yet used to express his disdain at Merinda’s plan. He had exhausted every other adjective he could think of.
CHAPTER TWENTY
In legends of great hunters throughout history, cursorial hunting refers to the painstaking process of outpacing one’s prey. Though the hunter may be slower than their prey over short distances, a careful combination of running, walking, and tracking can exhaust the prey.
Benfield Citrone and Jonathan Arnasson, Guide to the Canadian Wilderness
Benny and Merinda took the South Loop at a quick pace in the rising humidity. They strode Wabash in the direction of 15th Street. Merinda looked about her at the policemen guiding traffic in white gloves and hats, the automobiles skidding to a halt, at children weaving out of traffic with yoyos and toy boats, women pushing prams, and a group of musicians striking up an impromptu ragtime tune.
Finally, as a horse-drawn cart turned off the road, the Coliseum came into view and she saw it clearly in daylight. With turrets and banners on display, it reminded Merinda of a gated, moated castle. It was broad and spacious enough to hold hundreds for political rallies, entertainment events, and even sporting matches. The passersby were as interested in the excitement surrounding the place as the events therein.
Benny and Merinda strolled over echoing stone through a wide corridor to the auditorium.
The speakers droned on for hours, and even though a new progressive party was on the brink and an ideal was rolling out over hundreds and hundreds of eager attendees, it was achieved tediously. Committees! Credentials! Merinda was tempted to set off the bomb herself if required to listen to another report.