Day 78 - Darwin's Game - Chapter 27 (2398 words)

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DARWIN'S GAME

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 27

“The question to me is about the authenticity of what we think we are seeing. We have said this before and we'll say it again, there is not any proof, no hard evidence that any of these incidents for want of a better word, has actually happened.”

“Are you saying that the Game itself is a fake?”

“I'm not saying that it IS and I am not saying that it ISN'T, I'm saying we don't know. Not for sure anyway. The way we get these videos is so... handled and we are given nothing, nothing to go with it. The whole thing could be manufactured for us to believe that these criminals are now dead.”

“An elaborate way to fake your death, and what's more two of them were already thought dead, or missing, why go to all that trouble to make them die again.”

The man who was being interviewed pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “You are missing the point, it is not about what is really going on, it's about how it COULD be something else entirely. We don't know. We CAN'T know. Not until we have evidence.”

“Habeas Corpus?”

The man heaved a sigh. “If you like.”

Jacob Edgerton switched off the television in his room, he had seen enough since the airing of the latest round of the Game. Blake had sent him a message to watch the new episode, and told him to be extra careful, without saying why. Something had obviously happened, it was not a kidnapping this time, Jacob was sure that it would have been all over the news and that the Dragon Ridge people would have been all over him if it were. He knew, somehow that Darwin had touched Blake in a way similar to the way he had been touched. He felt slightly better because of this, less singled out and more at ease with his future security. Whatever it had been the resulting change in Hilliards demeanour was noticeable, it was the least forceful and the least forthright conversation they had ever had. Blake was not known for his demure approach to any situation. To hear him so muted, so quiet and reserved when speaking was on one hand spooky and on the other reassuring.

Jacob was still in Marquette he had thought that the orderly Eugene was worth following up on, the FBI were still combing the records of the hospital, and several people had lost their jobs or were on report for various violations and infractions of the contraband rules at Russell-Watts, but the upending of the system there produced no real leads for the investigation. Their handler at Dragon Ridge knew people in the Bureau and other agencies and they got a summary of progress at irregular but highly detailed intervals. No progress was being made.

Now the focus was shifting, there was a few field officers left at Russell-Watts to follow up but it was yielding very little and the effort could be better used in the current man-hunt. John Vargas was injured and on the run, he had escaped the Game and was out there now and someone must have seen him. He was already famous but now his picture, his mug shot was on every web site and news bulletin 24 hours a day. The lines at the police, the FBI, 911 and every possible agency that may intersect with Law & Order were over run with false positives for the escaped Vargas.

Two days after episode six had aired and there were more leads than they could possibly filter out and find any real evidence from. There was no indication that this was anything more than all noise and zero signal. Yet hundreds of sightings were being reported and followed up with no head way being made. This seemed like the best possible lead they could have gotten and they were inundated with helpful calls from the public pointing the finger at anyone looking vaguely Hispanic.

That was taking the heat away from Russell-Watts, from Marquette and from all of the other potentially valuable leads from the previously deceased players. It was not that the FBI did not think them worth pursuing, it was that there was a live lead in front of them and they had to follow that through, they had to divert resources to chase them down, thinking that it was likely going nowhere and that it would not lead to conviction.

The prevailing thought was that the Game would continue unabated and that this 'opportunity' was as staged and managed as previous episodes were. There was still a good chance that this whole game had already finished and that the outcome was a forgone conclusion, they just did not know it yet. There had been plenty of suggestions about the timing and the amount of preparation required to pull off a Game like this and no one in their right mind would have tried to air episodes before the conclusion was known. Reality Show producers were brought in as consultants, they were probed for their ideas on who this was being done by and how he would be doing it. The episodes followed a loose idea of a TV series, more than one producer had suggested a mid season break would pique interest in the series and generate more viewers by forcing a delay on them.

After the 2 week break between episodes five and six, those men were brought back in and shown the footage of episode six on the best equipment and with the best forensic tools available. What the producers had was some idea of making good TV and they were in awe of Darwin, not that interested in catching him as much as learning from him, emulating him if possible. A few of them pitched the series as a going concern after the end of series one, if was a serious offer and they could see that ethics, legal matters and personal feelings aside, the public had a taste for the Game. They wanted it, they needed it and it served a valuable societal purpose, the advertising revenues for a sanctioned version of the game would be astronomical.

Of course they said, of course we know it can never happen, never of course... but if one day? They had to put it out there, nor for now of course, of course.

Jacob was watching the various shows and seeing a massive distraction, the audience and the authorities were all hanging on the cliff edge, waiting and searching variously, for episode seven. While this was happening Jacob and Blake both felt that the Game was not what was in the episodes, but what was playing out in the media, in the halls of Government and in the hearts and minds of the general public.

Eugene Manson was going to take a day off, he had more than earned it the people at his work had said. The rough time that they all had with the Wilson affair, the Darwin episode and the huge intrusion of the Bureau into the lives and livelihoods of the people of Marquette was taking a psychological toll on them all. Manson had a baby on the way, the ugly business with his father had been hanging over them for five years had come to a close and the David Wilson debacle was over and the Feds were moving on.

Jacob had people watching his moves, seeing what he would do and where he would go but everything was above board and okay, nothing out of the ordinary. He wanted to get close to him, in a new place away from the familiar and away from prying eyes, he felt there was something there, something that he had seen in his eyes, something that he recognised when he looked at himself in the mirror. Something had happened to Eugene, he just could not pinpoint what that something was.

The opportunity arose when his friendly investigators pulled credit transactions and put him at a concert the night before his day off from work. A single ticket, going on his own to the Wynton Marsalis concert across the border in Canada, the perfect chance to chase him up. He had booked a hotel and a dinner reservation for himself and his expecting wife to attend, then he was off to the concert on his own to enjoy a night of live music.

Jacob crossed the border into America's northern neighbour across the Sault Ste Marie bridge, driving and taking his time in Ontario, taking the long way around to Toronto, not taking the Detroit route but the scenic way to while away a few hours and think about how to approach Manson.

The concert started on time and Edgerton and his bodyguards had seats in the lower balcony, overlooking the area of the stalls where they could see Eugene sitting, checking his glossy programme and reading it all before the performance, indulging in a glass of wine at intermission and staying ready for the second half. He looked happy and less haunted by whatever had happened to him in his space filled with the clarity and precision of the Marsalis perfect performance. Jacob waited and watched, enjoying the music to some extent but feeling edgy and expectant, waiting to confront Manson and see if he could shake anything loose.

The third encore was ending, a soulful and mournful rendition of “Sleepy Time Down South” that cut through the awed silence of the hall until it broke open the rapturous applause, the continued standing ovation bookended by the eventual raising of the lights on the Hall and the audience starting to file out. Jacob waited until Eugene moved from his seat, and he was almost the very last to leave, the lightness and joy that had been visible on him had now left him and he slumped as he had to return to his life.

Jacob was more sure than before that he knew something, that there was some lead or connection to find, and he was determined to get at it. He got out of his seat and made his way to the ground floor, one of his bodyguards were ahead of him and relaying the position of Manson to him as they both exited the theatre, the crowd thinned considerably and heading out into the crisp clear air of night. They followed him down the street, but instead of trying to intercept him on his approach to the hotel they saw him stop in the middle of the block and walk back towards them in an unexpected direction away from where he was booked to stay.

Jacob let him pass and got no sense that Eugene had recognised him in his coat and hat, wrapped up against the cold. They followed cautiously and saw him pick up a coffee from a nearby coffee cart still out and serving bad coffee to the evening drinkers in need of waking up. A few minutes later they were in Trinity Square and he sat on a low wall, taking a flask from his jacket and pouring it into his cup before taking a look inhale and then drinking his adjusted brew. He was not looking around, did not appear to be waiting for anyone and just looked like he was taking time to delay the return to his hotel and whatever it was that haunted him.

Jacob halted the bodyguards, had them take up positions where they could watch and intervene if necessary, but distanced from the spot where Eugene was. Jacob then walked up to the wall and sat next to Eugene who started and looked at the man, the one he could barely see and was staring straight ahead from where he was.

“I haven't said anything.”

Jacob froze, Eugene obviously thought that he was someone else, he didn't his head he just nodded and kept his gaze focussed forward. He could not see that well peripherally but it felt like Manson was doing the same.

“What do you want from me? You said this would all go ...” Eugene leapt up and stood in front of Jacob as he realised his mistake, “Who the fuck are.. . Shit... oh Shit...” He looked about in a panic as two large men in dark coats flanked him and cut off his escape.

“Calm down Mr Manson, you have nothing to fear from me.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“That's really a question for you, who were you referring to just now? Who did you think I was?”

“Am I under arrest? This is Canada, you can't arrest me here. I'll get political asylum!”

Jacob was startled by the outburst, Eugene was assuming he was a part of the Federal investigation. He decided to come clean and tell him everything and see where the honesty got him.

“I think we need to talk, Eugene. We have … we both have... I can see something in you. I recognised it the second I saw it, and it's like a weight. I know you feel it. I feel mine on me every day since... since I got involved in this. I'm not Bureau, I'm not anyone... any more than you are. I'll tell you what happened to me.”

“I can't.” Eugene was folding in on himself as Jacob talked about the burden that the Darwin experience was having on him, he was holding on to something and it felt like it was hanging by a thread.

“Let's go somewhere warm, private and... we can talk. I can talk, I can tell you what I know. You tell me what you can, if you want to, if you can?”

Eugene looked at him and then at the two men flanking him and Jacob realised how that must look.

“Right, yeah, these guys. Listen to what I have to tell you, then you'll understand.”

Eugene nodded and looked at the disposable coffee cup lying on the ground.

“Buy me a drink then?”

Jacob laughed, without much humour and the barking noise in the cold night air put him in mind of Blake's trademark dry humour. The four men walked away looking for a place to talk.