Authors: William Bernhardt
But so was Coi Than Tien. All that was left was black, smoking embers. The barn was the only building still standing, and it had suffered, significant damage. The church was gone, all but the charred remains. Worse, the mountain countryside between the two was ruined.
The fire had taken its toll on everyone. And everything.
B
EN STOOD IN THE
center of what was once Coi Than Tien, barely able to contemplate all the waste and mindless destruction. Where would these people go now? he wondered. What would they do? What
could
they do?
Mike approached him, hauling Dunagan along by the short chain of his handcuffs. “You had something you wanted to tell me about this man?”
“Damn straight.” Ben continued to gaze at the pitiful ruins. “Well, Dunagan, it looks like your mission is accomplished. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t set this fire.”
“Maybe not, but you set into motion the forces that made it inevitable.” Ben saw a face he recognized running past. “
Pham!”
Dan Pham stopped. “What do you want?”
“I’d like a few words with you.”
“I have matters to attend to—”
Ben grabbed Pham and pushed him toward Dunagan. “We’re all going to talk. And if you won’t stay voluntarily, Mike will arrest you on suspicion of arson.”
“Arson? What are you talking about? Are you suggesting I set fire to my people’s homes?”
“No. But I think you torched the ASP church, and that fire blazed out of control and spread to Coi Than Tien.”
Pham folded his arms across his chest. “You have no proof of these accusations.”
“You told Colonel Nguyen you planned to retaliate tonight. You must’ve heard about the ASP meeting just like I did. What I don’t know is how you found their secret meeting place.”
A tiny smile crept across Pham’s countenance. A smile Ben didn’t like at all.
“You followed
me
,” Ben said. “I led you to it.”
“I have had a man following you since you became counsel for that hatemongering killer.”
Ben grabbed Pham’s shirt and shook him with all his might. “How dare you? How dare you use me to further your terrorism!”
“Terrorism? Are we the terrorists? All I did was defend my home. They are the terrorists!” He pointed an accusing finger at Dunagan. “I saw more than just a church meeting tonight. I saw two men painting a black truck in the church garage. The pickup that has been used to strike against Coi Than Tien time and time again!”
“It’s true,” Ben told Mike. “I saw it myself.”
“These gooks moved in where they don’t belong,” Dunagan grunted. “They asked for trouble.”
“Where we don’t belong?” Pham countered. “We were here long before you!”
“No, my
people
were here long before yours.” Pham and Dunagan were standing nose to nose. “You declared war on ASP. And that war is going to go on and on until your people crawl back to the rice paddies where they belong!”
“We will not go back!” Pham cried. “We will fight you to the last man!”
“Will you listen to yourselves!”
Ben pushed himself between them. “When in God’s name will you ever learn? Violence is not the answer. Hate doesn’t do anyone any good. One of you swears to fight, the other one swears to retaliate. And look what happens.
Look!
”
Ben grabbed them both by the back of their necks and forced them to look at the smoky remnants of Coi Than Tien, the huddled families that had nothing left and nowhere to go, and at the crest of the hill, the church that was now a waste heap waiting to be shoveled over and forgotten.
“Both of you were determined to hurt your enemy. And both of you ended up hurting yourself. Can’t you see how wrong this is?”
Dunagan turned away, his eyes closed. “I never meant for this to happen,” he said quietly.
“It’s too late for regrets,” Ben said. “As soon as I have a conversation with the district attorney, ASP is history. You might as well tell your men to start packing up the camp now. Hate is going out of fashion.”
Dunagan’s face flushed with fury. “You think that’s going to accomplish anything? You think you can stop us? So you run us out of Arkansas. So what? We’re everywhere.
Everywhere.
We’re in your schools, in your churches. We’re in your armies and your police forces. We’re the skinheads in Portland. We’re the KKK in Corpus Christi. Stopping me won’t change anything.”
“Mike,” Ben said through clenched teeth, “please take this … man away.”
“Gladly.” Mike grabbed Dunagan by the cuffs and hauled him back toward the sheriff’s car.
Ben faced Pham. “Once ASP leaves town, you can disband your resistance league.”
“We still have many grievances—”
“Who doesn’t?” Ben laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got to put your hate behind you. And start rebuilding.”
“There is too much to do,” Pham said, gazing at the vast destruction. “I cannot possibly—”
“You’ll need help. And I know where you can get it.” Ben pointed toward the front gates. Colonel Nguyen was heading away from them. Leaving.
“Colonel Nguyen!” Pham shouted.
Nguyen turned and cautiously approached. “I know what you will—”
“You were right,” Pham said, interrupting him.
Nguyen fell silent, surprised.
“I was wrong. Armed attacks were not the solution. We accomplished nothing. Nothing good.”
Nguyen shook his head. “At least you were willing to take action. To
try.
He turned away. “I am leaving—”
“Our people have suffered much tonight, Colonel. There is work to do. I cannot do it alone.”
Nguyen stopped walking.
“But,” Pham added, “I believe that we can do it together.” He held out his hand.
Nguyen clasped it and squeezed tightly. “Together.”
Several moments later Colonel Nguyen bowed politely. “If you will excuse me, Mr. Kincaid. I need to have a … conversation with my wife.”
Ben nodded. “There’s still the matter of the woman who was murdered,” he said to Mike.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Mike replied. “We found a handgun in the shack where her body was found. The bullets match. She wasn’t shot during the ASP attack. She killed herself.”
“Suicide?”
“Yeah. I think she’d been there for some time before she was found. Here, I took a picture.”
Ben took the Polaroid. He recognized her immediately. It was the young woman he had rescued from the first fire. The one who disappeared.
Mike pulled a sheet of paper out of his coat pocket. “While I was still in town I got a copy of the corpse’s prints from Deputy Gustafson and faxed them to the FBI database in Washington. We got a response about an hour ago and someone relayed it to Collier over the radio. Take a look at this.”
Ben took the paper and read. His jaw fell. He couldn’t fathom it—
But of course. It was the final piece of the puzzle. Now it all made sense, everything he had seen and heard, everything Vick had told him. Everything.
“Mike,” Ben said. “I think I’m going to have a chat. …”
“Want me to come with you?”
“No. Maybe I can get Colonel Nguyen—” He spotted the Colonel sitting in front of his home, locked in a tight embrace with his wife. “Never mind. You get Christina to a hospital.” After making sure no one was listening, he whispered a few more words in Mike’s ear.
“I’ll take care of Christina,” Mike said. “Are you sure you can do this?”
“I—” His voice cracked. He inhaled deeply; after a few moments, he was able to continue. “I’ll be all right.”
Mike nodded. “Good luck.”
“Too late for that,” Ben said. “Much too late for that now.
“T
HANKS FOR COMING,” BEN
said, when Belinda entered what was left of Coi Than Tien’s barn.
“I came as soon as Mike told me where you were.” She ran up to Ben and clasped his hands. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“I heard you were trapped inside that church. My God—you might have been killed!” She reached up and brushed some of the black soot from his face. “I was so worried.”
“Belinda—” He gently pushed her away.
“What’s wrong? What’s bothering you now?”
“Belinda—” Ben’s eyes began to swell up. He fought it back. “Belinda. I know.”
“Know what? I don’t understand.”
Ben looked down at the dirt. He hurt so much he wasn’t sure he could go on. “I know you killed Tommy Vuong.”
“Me?”
A horrified expression crossed her face. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”
“Of course not.”
“What could ever make you think I killed him?”
Ben unfolded the paper in his pocket. “Cindy Jo Simpson. The last name threw me off at first, but then I remembered that you were married previously. Your husband’s name was Hamilton, and you didn’t retake your maiden name when you were divorced. I had Mike check it out. You were born Belinda Todd Simpson.” He crumpled the paper in his hand. “Cindy Jo Simpson was your younger sister.”
Belinda fell back against several bales of hay stacked against the wall.
“I remember Mary Sue described the woman who visited Vick as resembling you, only younger,” Ben said. “And when I first saw her in the smoke of the Truong home, I thought she was you. Small wonder there was a resemblance.”
All at once tears tumbled from Belinda’s eyes. “How much do you know?”
“I think I’ve figured out most of it, but I’d rather hear it from you. Revenge, right?”
Belinda brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I told you my sister was always in trouble. And it was always my job to get her out of it. To set the world right again.”
“I know Vuong was accused of rape about a year ago. Your sister was his victim, wasn’t she?”
Belinda nodded. “It was a date rape. She had been hanging around him and some of the others since she met them in Porto Cŗisto. She followed them up here. I think she had a crush on Tommy, but at first he wouldn’t give her the time of day. Finally he asked her out. She was thrilled. So excited. So … vulnerable. On the way home he threw her down in the forest and started beating her. He was beyond mean—psychotic. She had bruises on her face and breasts that lasted for weeks.” Belinda paused, trying to steady her voice. “And then he raped her.”
“Didn’t she report it to the police?”
“Yes, but she had no proof other than her own testimony. Tommy had a squeaky-clean reputation, and everyone knew she liked him and that she wanted to go out with him. They assumed it was consensual intercourse. He winked and jabbed and told them she liked it rough. And they believed him.”
“Surely you could’ve taken the case to higher authorities.”
“
I
probably could’ve, but unfortunately I didn’t know about this at the time, and Cindy Jo didn’t have the slightest idea what to do. It was only several months later that she called me. You see, there was another complication. Cindy was pregnant.”
“By Vuong?”
“Right. She ran away from Coi Than Tien, from everyone she knew. She was so despondent, so ashamed. When the baby was almost due, she called me, desperate. She had no money, she knew nothing about babies, she didn’t know what to do. She was distraught, practically irrational. The last nine months of isolation, guilt, and trauma had destroyed her. She was a different person. Very sick, getting sicker by the day.”
“That was the reason you decided to personally head up the Hatewatch operation in Silver Springs,” Ben said.
“True. But when I got here, I couldn’t find her. Not a trace.” She paused, drew in her breath. “But I sure as hell could find Tommy Vuong.”
“So you decided to kill him.”
“It wasn’t like that. I told you I was in that bar when Vick and Vuong fought. The idea came to me in a flash. I could accomplish two great goods with a single stroke. I could take care of the bastard who raped my sister, and at the same time I could strike a blow against ASP, the men who have brought so much misery to so many people. The men who tied me to their cross and beat me like I was an animal.
“When Vick’s head crashed down on my table, he left a smear of blood and a few hairs behind. I waited until John went to the bathroom, then carefully scraped the hair and blood into one of those plastic bags I always carry in my purse.”
“You stole the crossbow and bolts from the ASP stockpile,” Ben said.
“It was risky, but it was critical if I was going to implicate Vick and the rest of ASP. Frank had been watching the ASP camp for weeks. He knew when I should go and how to get in without being caught. He also told me Vick had picked up those crossbow bolts the day before. So naturally that’s what I used.”
“And then you planted the blood and hair on the crossbow, erected a burning cross—the ASP emblem—and waited for Vuong to fall into your trap.”
“That’s right. You know, even then I wasn’t sure I would be able to do it. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to fire the bow. I had to think about it for a long time. When he first saw me and our eyes met—” Her face was lost in shadow, and she whispered to Ben a few more details about what happened next. “But I did it.”
“After you shot him, you left the crossbow where you knew it would be found.”
“True. And I dumped a pile of ASP hate literature I had in my files near the cross.”
“That was your first mistake,” Ben explained. “The fine print on some of the brochures specified that they had been printed in Birmingham. Why would Dunagan and his gang import literature when they have a printing press at their camp right here? It was possible, but it struck me as unlikely. That’s when I began to wonder if the brochures had been planted. I checked Jones’s research on ASP’s activities in Birmingham. Only three people were there who are also here. Grand Dragon Dunagan. Frank Carroll. And you.”
“How stupid of me. I didn’t even think.”
“What happened to your sister?”
“Even after Vuong was dead, I still couldn’t find Cindy Jo. I don’t know where she had the baby. I know she didn’t know what to do with her. She had no home, no help, no money. In her state of mind, she was utterly unable to deal with a newborn. But I still don’t know why she left her in the Truongs’ home.”