Something Bad, page 21
The plan required that very little information be forwarded that would be meaningful to anyone but Thibideaux, to spare the residents of the details. He didn’t know much about Thibideaux’s organization, so his inquiry would be a bluff, but Thibideaux wouldn’t know that. He silently repeated his opening question one more time. “Mr. Thibideaux, I’ve just had the pleasure of a long talk with an old friend of yours, Father Costello. He’s told me a great deal about you, and about someone you know quite well, Ernest Hughes. I suspect your business in these parts is similar to what the good Father explained, and not what you’ve given us here tonight. Would you mind giving us your thoughts on that?” He planned to wing it after that.
The goal was to plant a seed of distrust and instill some fear in the minds of the residents. The seed was that Thibideaux was up to something other than whatever he was planning to discuss. The fear was through the linkage of Thibideaux and Father Costello, who was still in the minds and imaginations of the people of the Tri-counties. Father Costello was a tangible evil to the locals, so a linkage would bring suspicion onto
Thibideaux. Best of all, Gabe wouldn’t have to reveal any detailed information, which he didn’t have yet anyway.
The best outcome of the challenge, in Gabe’s mind, would be to scare Thibideaux away from the area without completion of his job. The worst would be no change in the situation, in which case, Gabe would have to follow through with the plan to get the notes and Bible from the rectory bathroom and return to Chicago. Gabe’s optimistic glass was three-quarters full.
Wes’ voice brought Gabe back to the auditorium. “Are there any other announcements?” With the room silent, Wes continued. “As you may know, this meeting’s been called so Mr. A. Jackson Thibideaux of New Orleans can give us some information that’s important to us all, and to our future. Since I don’t know what this is all about, I’ll just turn the meeting over to Mr. Thibideaux. He’ll give us a talk first, then he’ll be willing to answer questions. Mr. Thibideaux …”
The silence in the room allowed a third-row stomach growl to echo throughout the auditorium. Not a single head turned in its direction.
Thibideaux rose to his feet and shuffled toward the podium. To Gabe, his movements presented a contrast in appearances. His short-stepping, stiff-backed ambling projected an image of meekness, even disadvantage, while his erect head and positive countenance portrayed the opposite—a somewhat subtle confidence.
Gabe felt the anticipation in the auditorium settle like a dense fog, and it was enhanced by Thibideaux’s slow-motion navigation of the stage and his deliberate approach to the podium.
Thibideaux reached for the ill-tempered microphone but it was too tall for him. The gooseneck holder twisted in his grasp, but sprung upward before he could grab the mike. He stood on tip-does and grabbed the neck, closer to the mike this time, but once again, it sprung away.
Whispers and giggles pulsed in the squirming audience.
Thibideaux grabbed the contrary appliance and wrestled it out of its holder, and it announced its capture with an ear-piercing scream. He silenced the mike with a tight strangle hold on its neck as he shuffled to the front of the stage. His voice was confident, striking a decisive blow in Gabe’s earlier contrast of his appearance.
“Good evening to all residents of the Tri-counties, and thank you for taking your valuable time to hear what I have to say to you on this lovely Fall evening. As you may know, I’ve been working in your midst for the last several months and I would like to provide the results of this work, and to illuminate the grounds for this effort. If you please, I’d like to ask that you hold all questions until I’ve finished my entire report, since an early question may be answered later in the presentation. At the conclusion, I’ll be happy to answer all questions to the best of my ability. I won’t take a great deal of your time, so I won’t go into every detail.” He scanned the audience.
Gabe looked around the room. All he saw was a sea of attentive faces that was absent riptides or other forms of turbulence.
“For some time now, the State has been considering construction of a divided highway connection between the two north-south interstates that run on either side of your fine state. Several factors are important for the placement of such a connection. The two most important are its position relative to similar shunts to the north and south, and its expense, which is related to the shortest route that avoids all unsuitable terrain. I’ve been retained to investigate the suitability of a course that would pass through the Tri-counties, and specifically to estimate its cost in both dollars and construction time.
“To summarize what is presented in a rather lengthy report, I’m suggesting that a proposed route that runs through the Tri-counties is a viable option for such a highway. I’ve determined that a corridor roughly midway between State Route 27 and the southern edge of the swamp has the following attributes that make it an attractive possibility. First, it’s nearly equal in distance from the closest shunts to the north and south. Second, the proposed route could be constructed in nearly a straight line between the two interstates without the need to alter its path around geological irregularities. Finally, the terrain along this route is free of obstacles that would require special construction methods.” He paused and scanned the audience again.
“This is a good news and bad news situation. However, I think nearly everyone here will agree with me, the good greatly outweighs the bad. Please speak up at the conclusion of this presentation if you don’t agree.
“The good news is the roadway will have to cut through a number of farms. The State will negotiate for the purchase of the land, and in the past, prices paid for such land have been very generous. It’s not my place to participate in these negotiations, although I have included some estimates in my report that are higher than the current net worth of the land. Unfortunately, I won’t discuss these estimates today, or any other day, since they must be submitted without input of the local populace. Now for the bad news, which starts exactly the same way as the good. The new highway will cut through a number of farms. This will create logistical challenges for the farmers in terms of working the land. This is not a major problem, as the submitted plan includes ways to deal with these challenges, which we can discuss in the question and answer period.”
A few coughs and throat-clearings broke the silence. Gabe noticed the wiggling of a few small children.
“With all of this news thrust upon you at once, I must caution you that my work constitutes a preliminary report only. The highway itself is not a certainty, and it’s difficult for me to properly read the collective mind of the State Legislature. For that reason, I must emphasize that it’s premature for you to get your hopes up right now. Also, even if the State is serious about constructing a highway shunt, my report doesn’t guarantee that the route proposed in the report will be selected. The competition is likely to be fierce, since a shunt will have positive effects on the economy of the selected counties. Also, while the fate of the Tri-county route’s position in this competition is dependent upon my report, keep in mind that it is only a preliminary report. In most cases, the State conducts a follow-up investigation after an initial list of finalists is determined. As a final positive note, I will say with confidence, based on my experience in these matters, that the Tri-county route is most certain to make that final list. And, while ultimate State decisions are sometimes capricious, I will stake my reputation on my intuition, which suggests to me that the Tri-counties has an excellent chance to come out on top of the competition.
“Now, if I can have the screen lowered and the lights dimmed, I have some graphics that will help you better conceptualize the route I am forwarding as the best.”
Thibideaux half-stepped over to an overhead projector and reached for a manila folder of transparencies. Over the next fifteen minutes, he presented a series of photos, maps, and copies of surveyor land plats that showed, in detail, a corridor of potential highway land and the farms through which it would pass. The polished presentation started with a series of LandSat photos of the area that gradually homed in on the Tri-counties, and then gave way to aerial photographs that were coordinated with the maps and plats. He concluded his visual display with a hint of a grin.
Wes Worthing walked to Thibideaux’s side, dwarfing him, and took the microphone, which let out a whimper of relief. “I think we should all give a round of applause to Mr. Thibideaux for all the work he’s done, and for the report he’ll submit.”
Gabe thought the response was polite but not quite enthusiastic.
Thibideaux gave a slight nod of his head.
“I’m sure some of you will have questions and Mr. Thibideaux has agreed to answer them up,” Wes said. “So please keep order as the questions are asked and answered. If anyone needs to go, do it now before we get going again.”
No one moved.
Wes surveyed the group and handed the microphone back to Thibideaux.
“Yes, I will be happy to entertain questions, but I may be limited in what I can say on some subjects. Also, please note that the exact route I’ve described is not negotiable. It will appear in my report exactly as I have described it, although the State could alter it at a later date. Now, if you have questions, please raise your hand.”
Gabe looked around. About a half-dozen hands rose at once, and he raised his to keep pace. He watched Thibideaux scan the hands, and he thought the little man’s gaze stopped at his raised paw for an instant before moving on to the next one.
The first question was predictable, from the far right of the auditorium. “For a betting man, what’d you guess are the chances of getting this thing done?”
Thibideaux shuffled along the stage until he was centered above the questioner. “As I said before, I would never bet on the decisions of a State Legislature. However, I feel the route through the Tri-counties should be given odds that are as close to even as any other route that’s being considered.” He nodded to the next hand.
“I heard the State bought some land in Jefferson County for what they called a ‘right-o-way,’“ a man in back asked. “From what I heard, they paid a crooked price. You say they’ll pay good here. How we know you’re right?”
Thibideaux sidestepped on the stage. “I know of the situation you describe, and the land that was purchased was not prime farmland, so it didn’t get a top price. In my report, I’ve included a section on past productivity of the land in question, including this year’s crops. With that information as a basis, I’ve made the case that the land is top quality and should be paid for accordingly.” Another nod prompted the next query.
“You mentioned that the farmers will have some problems working their land if the highway is built. What do you mean?”
The question came from the same area, so Thibideaux didn’t have to move. “The problem will be accessibility. If the freeway cuts through the middle of a farm, it’ll present a challenge to get the farm machinery from one side to the other. Freeways were originally named because they weren’t toll roads. Later, the name was used because they allowed free travel without the bother of cross traffic. And that’s the problem. I’m proposing a series of underpasses be included in the design to allow easy movement of machinery and livestock under the freeway. They’d be large enough to allow a combine to pass through. While this is a reasonable solution, only a few underpasses can be built because of the cost. Some farmers might find the freeway is more than a small annoyance. If the population of the Tri-counties feels this inconvenience outweighs the financial benefits of the highway, it can be decided at a later date and the information can be conveyed to the State.”
Gabe leaned forward in his chair to get his hand higher. The number of raised hands had whittled down to four.
The next inquisitor shouted his question before being called upon. “Who’ll do the land negotiating? Will it be you?”
“The actual negotiations will be conducted by members of the State Land Office and the Highway Department. My role will be over soon, when I submit my report.”
Three hands left. Thibideaux picked one from the far left of the auditorium.
“How soon do you reckon this will all get going?”
Thibideaux shuffled along the stage. “My best guess, based on the dinosaur-like movements of State Governments, is a final decision will be made within a year. Then, the start of construction will depend on the health of the state budget and the participation of the federal government. My impression is the feds have already shown significant interest, otherwise the project wouldn’t have gone this far.”
Thibideaux walked back to center stage.
Gabe felt the little man’s eyes lock on his, and he watched his tiny right hand move forward a little and ball into a fist. Gabe tried to raise his hand, but it wouldn’t move. He tried the other, but it was paralyzed. He tried to make a sound, to complain, but nothing came out. He struggled against the invisible restraints until it felt like his face was on fire.
Thibideaux conducted an exaggerated survey of the room. “I can see there is only one question left, which is good since I still have work to do. You’ve given me some additional ideas for the report. After this final question, I’ll take my leave. I want to thank you for your polite attention.” Thibideaux turned John Johnson’s way and gave him a nod of his head.
Sir John stood up. “Mr. Thibideaux, I’d like to congratulate you on your fine presentation. I do have a few questions, though. Just this afternoon, I was sitting outside the general store when a state government car pulled up and two men got out to ask me a couple of questions. Seems they was coming to our area to scout out the possibility of a highway shunt running through the Tri-counties. Said it was Senator Ambrose’s idea, but it wasn’t even put to the legislature yet.”
Thibideaux took a step closer to the edge of the stage. He glared at John.
“I told them you was already completing a report on that very thing, and they said they never heard of anyone named Thibideaux, and no way did the state hire anyone to prepare a report on the highway.” Sir John paused and looked around the auditorium. “Then they said if you was here studying a highway route, you must be hired by someone other than the state government.”
Sir John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So, we know that you wasn’t hired by the Tri-counties, and now we know you wasn’t hired by the government. So I says to myself, who would Thibideaux be working for if not us and the state?” Sir John half-turned and talked to the audience. “What come to my mind on this was Rother County.”
Gabed surveyed the room. At the mention of Rother County, a stir in the audience progressed outward from Sir John like a ripple emanating from a pebble thrown in a pond.
“The only other people interested in studying a roadway through the Tri-counties would be Rother County. They’d be trying to get the highway to go along State Route 17, right thorough Calhoun Township.”
Sir John whirled back toward Thibideaux and stepped up his voice to a near shout. “So tell us, Mr. Thibideaux. Just who’s it you work for if it’s not the state or the Tri-counties? Are you working for Rother to certain it that we’ll never get the highway?” Sir John remained standing.
Thibideaux stood motionless for ten, fifteen seconds. Gabe thought he looked different, somehow.
“My d-dear Mr. Johnson. Wh-once again y-you have s-surprised me w-with your insight.” Thibideaux took a deep breath. “I want to assure you th-that I do not now, a-and have not ever worked for Rother County.”
Another deep breath and Gabe saw the old Thibideaux.
“In fact, you are right. I don’t work for either the state or the Tri-counties. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you who’s retained my services. But I can tell you why. In these matters, a number of companies will be encouraged to bid for contracts related to the planning and construction of the highway. These contracts are extremely lucrative. Some businesses hire lobbyists to influence government decisions, and they get advance notice on prospects like this. When this occurs, work like mine is initiated immediately and without knowledge of the government, so a realistic bid can be developed quickly. So you see, I’ve been retained by an organization that plans to bid on the construction of the highway. The fact that I was retained to prepare my report speaks of the positive position you all occupy in the government’s plans for the shunt. I hope this calms your fears, Mr. Johnson.”
John sat down, but his bottom barely hit the chair when he sprang back up. “As I see it, you’ve lied to us all about who you work for already, so how’re we to know you’re not lying to us again right now? How can we be sure you don’t work for Rother?”
“Mr. Johnson, and all good citizens of the Tri-counties. Due to the nature of my work, it was necessary to maintain a curtain of misdirection. It’s the nature of the beast. This business is so competitive, organizations will go to great lengths to gain an edge. Some of these actions border on unethical. For this I sincerely apologize. Now, about your concerns. Had I been hired by Rother County, I would have been required to spend much more time in that area preparing a report. It takes very little time to derail a project like this through subterfuge, while it takes a great deal of time to formulate a complete report like the one I presented tonight. It would be totally unnecessary for me to go to all of that work for the Tri-counties if my only aim was to prevent a highway from going through here. It’s totally absurd to think I’d be working for Rother County after what you saw tonight.”
Thibideaux bent his left arm and slightly raised his hand in the direction of the rear, left quadrant of the room. He curled the fingers of his left hand into the form of a set of claws and an elderly member of the audience let out a whelp and cringed forward, clutching his chest.
As the order in the auditorium disintegrated, Gabe watched Thibideaux grab his manila folder and slip out the back door of the building. Released from his paralysis, Gabe hurried to the back of the room.
