Silent   Relatives

 

 

        The well-paid, vigorous man worked in a building that was protected from almost anyone's view.  He spent his time in these rooms heedless of outside locations.  A different matter was the question of outside people.  He prepared thoughtfully and sufficed for those who came to the house.  They found a careful man of medium build who never wanted to raise his voice.  He explained things well enough, and he didn't have too much trouble performing his job for the man in charge - Ben Lounsbury, the man who lived here.  This worker, George Hauff, gained recognition at those times when he did leave the house to perform his job.  He was a spokesman.

        There was a curious timing to this on one occasion, when Ben and his wife were staying at a place they called the 'foothills retreat.'  George had a reason for speaking to a group in Seattle.  His audience there included a person, Edie Phillips, who'd be able to give him some recognition by means of two magazines.  His listeners found that he wasn't bad as a public speaker.  But except for a few of these appearances he had never come to the public's notice.  He could be a serene person next to the lightning rod known as Ben Lounsbury.  He knew he had to give certain alerts to his employer, and he'd have to keep an eye on some of those outside people - the ones working for the States Development Authority.  He had to admit, he couldn't think of a more effective interest group than the SDA.  George had no brilliance as a strategist, but he was useful.  He tried to be just that when he offered a commission to Edie Phillips.  In doing this he thought he was complying with a vague principle his boss had given him concerning the world of publicity.  One thing certainly made for peace of mind : his daily messages to and from the Lounsburys were tranquil.  

        One morning, two hours before a scheduled visit by the publicist, Ben's brother came to see the father.  Jack entered the very large house and made his way to the corner suite occupied by Tom Lounsbury.  Tom had brought wealth to the kindred, but now he was much less active.  In his old age he almost never gave advice to Ben.

        Seeing the father once more, Jack described the gathering scheduled for this afternoon.  Edie and her associate would be examining some artifacts.  Jack said, "Even though people are showing up for this thing, Ben can't be here."

        Tom answered, "He should have thought of that."

        Jack pointed out, "I'm not saying it's a problem.  I'm saying you can be aware of what's happening.  Or you might come over to the other rooms and take part, that's all."

        The old man wasn't too impressed.  He replied, "I've seen the furniture more than once."

        He knew how good he was.  The brats had never dared complain in his presence.

        Jack said to him, "Just thought I'd tell you."

        He was never surprised by his dad's response to the most innocent declarations.  He supposed that Tom wouldn't show an interest in the topic being discussed.  Jack wouldn't be here either, so why should anyone care except George and the guests?  The less exalted brother didn't have to worry about his brother's house.

        But now he did walk through much of the building, as if to check its condition.  He could be protective in a funny sort of way, and his attitude was quite sincere, not selfish.  It might be that he'd have to find and forestall a stroke of malice from outside - evil from someone else's high society.  He knew of remarkable perils, and the less said the better.  But the search didn't take very long.  He saw that he could have confidence.  Nothing figured to be a problem later today.  Ben's two daughters in particular - Jack had seen them at the far end of a hallway - would have the privacy they wanted.  And he was aware of something else.

        In the reception room he noticed that the expected change had yet to take place.  Karen, Ben's wife, was planning the addition of several objects - unrelated, not a 'set.'  Also, there were some shelves to be removed and not replaced.  Karen wanted the process to be a two-day work effort.  Concerning this afternoon Jack knew rather precisely what the spokesman had scheduled.  There would be, in addition to Edie Phillips' arrival with her friend, a visit by the journalist, Neal Douglas.  Jack had reasons for not being here when they came. 

        As he was leaving he tried to assure himself of something : George could handle a simple event, couldn't he?  Or if he had to, he'd get help from the guests!

        Edie Phillips didn't seem the type to make a living on the basis of social elements that were meant for display.  She never, by women's standards, bothered too much about her looks, and she never chased the famous people.  Sometimes they came to her.  Bridget Carlson wasn't famous, but her job at a museum was intriguing to the publicist.  Edie fancied herself cerebral and she invited Bridget to go with her to the mansion.  One more fact played a special role in bringing about today's meeting : George and Jack were both acquainted with the director of the museum. 

        It was a Tuesday when the women approached the house, cruising along by way of a country road.  A half mile to the east was a low ridge from the top of which you could almost, but not quite, see Puget Sound.  The road leading directly to the house had on one side a dense thicket extending southward, and on the other side a row of arborvitae - the row being interrupted several times, with fixtures in the gaps.  When the women reached the house they found a man of plain appearance.  He had just come out from the annex where he had his office, and he stood on a curb, not more than thirty feet from where they parked the car.  He identified himself and welcomed his visitors.

        Walking along the driveway towards the house he told the women implausibly, "I'm sure he'd say there's nothing special about the furniture."

        There were some comments that described the preparations, especially their practical reliance on a group that George often referred to simply as the Foundation.

        When they got to the front door Edie was saying, "I had to have it explained to me what the grant was all about."  She sounded happy.  "There are some things we can finally take care of."

        Inside the house they turned and moved into a room on the right.  The first object of critical discussion was a fairly expensive club chair.  Its design was by an Italian who was better known for his political views instead of his art.  The expert made statements about the chronology, and then she started in with some opinions.

        "It's easy to find fault with it nowadays," Bridget told the others.  "The form was unheard of back then." 

        George listened to more opinions and then made a remark that minimized the importance of style.

        "The artist wouldn't agree with you," Bridget answered.

        This triggered something biographical - and something too earnest to begin with.

        Edie affirmed, "He's persecuted because he defends the honor of homeless people.  He defends the traditions of people who have been marginalized in our culture.  Different kinds of groups.  He was sent to prison once, and they tried that again six years ago."

        "He's had his problems," Bridget said.

        George told her, "He's come out with so many books about populism in Europe.  Since the eighties, I think.  Is he still an artist?"

        Bridget answered, "Yes, but it's true they don't say much about his recent work."

        Edie pointed out that Ben had expressed a moderate sympathy for the Italian's proposals.

        "I haven't heard him talk about the guy," George admitted.

        In his discussions with Ben there was no more than a hint of the World Federalism that he seemed to have a reputation for.  The boss was more explicit when mentioning the SDA.

        These things were a far cry from anything referred to in the casual sort of lecture that George had given at the Millgrove Center.  He recalled once more his new reluctance to travel - reluctance based on a ballyhooed pandemic.  The trip to the center was about as much as he could handle.  Distancing and masks were fine, but he believed that travelmania was the greatest contributor to the spread of COVID-19.  

        He hadn't spoken with Edie that day, only being introduced to her later.  The lecture in Seattle had explained some dreary aspects of day to day management, although George made them as interesting as anyone ever had.  Now he was being taken by surprise, having to hear about high brow personalities and politics of internationalism.

        Edie asked, "Have you been to the museum?"

        "No," he said.

        "It's the best of its kind," she claimed, "but that kind doesn't get much notice from the high and mighty."  She glanced at Bridget.  "They've done a terrific job with acquisitions."

        "We're getting there," Bridget agreed.

        The director of the museum was sometimes accused of a sinister globalism.  Edie brought this up without fear of displeasing Bridget.  There was one point, especially, that the older woman liked to make.

        "The controversy does hinder him," she said, "when he tries to encourage the policies we need for the long run.  They make unfair statements about his background.  He has to do what he does."

        More to the point, controversy didn't help the museum's revenues.  What she was really getting at seemed clear enough.

        George reminded them, "The Lounsburys have usually given to other kinds of organizations - hospitals or clinics, even some libraries."

        The woman said bluntly, "That can always change, can't it?"

        "Sure," the spokesman replied.  It wouldn't hurt to let it go at that.

        Edie's purpose in this case was the publication of a sort of catalogue.  It would be slanted for the honor of the Lounsburys.  Their possessions would be held in view as a standard.  If most experts had no reason to take this seriously, there were still some worthy items here.  Edie was hoping for a bit of propaganda supplied by Neal Douglas.

        Her ambition these days involved more than a catalogue.  George thought he'd heard somewhere that she wanted to make Bridget famous.  To make her someone terribly glamorous?  Maybe so, in this Age of Cushy Jobs for Women.  His view of Bridget was dispassionate.  She was reasonably impressive in conversation, and she could seem the very type of the famous actress or model : slender without being erotically interesting.  In other words, Bridget might go far.

        To George the publicity system that Edie worked in had never seemed friendly.  He didn't feel that way because of anything done to George Hauff.  It was because of what he'd seen done to others, including his boss.  Ben had taken a number of rhetorical brickbats even though he never sounded very conservative.  There was a false allegation that suggested he had been compelled to apologize to a Jewish group that flourished in Hollywood.  George, not his employer, was the one who found this annoying. 

        A person that he would like to have seen here at the beginning of the session was Norris Maynard.  Especially in the wealthy man's absence, Norris the protector would impart a sense of confidence to guests.  Then again George was quite sure the protector would reveal nothing from the world of secrets - whether that world is called organized crime or is called conspiracy.  There was one story that certainly had been kept from the public.  Ben had been approached by a group of five researchers - four graduate students and someone with a Ph.D.  They proposed a useful and highly original program of study.  George believed that some larger, high-powered group had applied pressure.  The students' effort was to be sponsored by the Foundation, or there would be consequences.  Ben dismissed the proposal.  So what dreadful thing had happened as a result?

        Five persons - it couldn't possibly be kept secret, could it?  Well, maybe it could.  

        At one point during Edie's visit there was a studious interval with items that George had to remove from a safe.  These items were very expensive strips of cloth.  He wouldn't expect to find something like this in a safe.  He had no idea what it was all about, but Karen was familiar with such wares, and so was Bridget.  George and his guests were in chairs around a circular table.  After a few minutes there was a turn in the discussion.  Their new subject was Ben's uncharacteristic use of the Internet.

        Edie said, "Things must have changed here because of what they were saying about him.  How did that go?"

        "It was difficult," he answered.

        Edie confessed, "My husband loved the video, wouldn't you know it?"  

        For George the difficulty - pushback against a bit of outreach - had been quickly resolved.  He said, "People stopped asking about it.  Anyway, the size of the online audience gets exaggerated, in my opinion.  It's true I was wondering when he'd come out with something like that."

        "He spoke his mind," she stated, "and he was flamboyant."

        "He can be that way," George told her.  "People don't expect it of Ben."

        Enough trust had arisen, somehow, for the spokesman to talk this way with Edie, and with another woman present.  The situation they referred to was five months in the past.

        Edie said, "I have to disagree with his viewpoint."

        George commented, "I didn't see the repercussions that some critics have mentioned.  No problems for me, anyway.  If he can't do something like that, what's the Internet for?"

        Edie said, "It shouldn't be for daring society to do its worst."

        George declared, to assure his guest, "He actually cares about his safety."

        In fact Ben's fear of death never precluded his using the sorts of expression that seem careless.  He wasn't trying to make enemies.  He did have a serious result with his one self-produced video that was meant for display on the Web.  It was produced in his reading room.  He was talking, looking at the camera.  He affected his version of regal posture.  It was clear that his minor political harangue would be described by some viewers as maladroit.  One of the people sorely offended by the performance was Neal Douglas.  On the other hand the video impressed more than one film expert with its artistic value.  The room's well-appointed quality was supplemented with a rich illumination of the cabinets and curtains.

        In response to the video, a person or persons had sent the family a package containing something repulsive.

        Jack had been questioned about this, and so had Ben's children.  They never denied that such a thing had happened, but each of them refused to talk about it.

        The wealthy man's reputation was kept as clean as mere humans could keep it.  Some thirty years ago Tom had warned his son against a certain kind of opportunism.  The warning was easy to forget.  Ben's video, an example of such opportunism, had provoked a response from at least one criminal.  

        Eventually Norris had said to George, "This reeks of Altfederalism."

        The word was new to George.  "Altfederalism?"

        "An extremist movement," the protector added.  "Hard to classify as right wing or left wing.  They seem to have derived from the activists of One World Government, but they're certainly denounced by those people."

        "How can you tell they sent the package?"

        Norris explained at length.  He cited previous offenses that were similar, for which the same people were convincingly blamed.

        After hearing this George observed, "Yeah, those are the kind that might be provoked by Ben's little speech on the Web.  The package fits the description of political cute crap."  One point leads to another, he told himself.  "Are there some reports that they've actually killed people?"

        "A few homicide victims, but they're only in Europe as far as I know."

        George declared, "The calling card goes well with the online hatred.  I hope the boss doesn't repeat himself."

        Driving a Buick Lacrosse, the sender of repulsive gifts had followed the car driven by Edie Phillips when she came to the billionaire's residence.  He kept at a safe distance from the entry gate.  He managed to avoid any detection by surveillance.  This was preposterously easy, given the householder's resources.  He made several observations, including, briefly, the movements of George, the visitors and Ben's daughters.  He saw one workman at the side of the house, and was in no hurry to leave the neighborhood.  His involvement was a fine point : you could oppose Ben's kind of development project without opposing some other kind.  He'd been told about the other kind - the sort of land use planning that would have been bolstered by the five university people.  The sender of repulsive gifts wasn't merely a prankster.  He was a highly accomplished professional, though for him it wouldn't do to use the major media system as a means of advertising. 

        For Norris, at least, the anecdote of the package would suggest a reference to mystic social elements - in the background, in the depths, whatever.  George didn't feel anxiety regarding the notion that someone might use Ben's prominence against him in a clandestine manner.  But like most people working closely with dignitaries he had a healthy dread - on behalf of the upper class in general - when it came to the likes of Altfederalism or the Council Corps.  Having heard this now from Norris, he knew just enough about these groups though he knew almost nothing about them.  It was clear to the best informed officials in law enforcement that these groups promoted a new kind of hatred.

        As much as George, a few other citizens were concerned.  There was Darren Klinski, a man with political views akin to those expressed by Ben.  This man had spoken with Jack, and so had Neal Douglas, at other times.  Jack was willing to tell his brother some of the things they proposed.  But he left out the vital things.  He also neglected to mention proposals of a different sort - the museum director's.

        That man was in league with others who'd been working to establish a central exhibit of a kind that society refused to tolerate - refused until now.  George didn't like the director, but he couldn't get Ben to make a definite excoriation.  He meant to be tactful and strategic in allowing Edie's visit.  He hoped to learn more about the man who ran the museum.

        It was hard to gain the relevant information.  Tom had expressed a frightening view of enforcers who protected the aristocrats.  He had a sincere talk about this with George, imparting a bit of knowledge on the subject.  Otherwise he had no trouble keeping quiet about some disturbing facts. 

        That careful reserve was also Jack's mentality.  He had long been accepted by Ben as a kind of communication filter.  He did very well at this.

        The inspection at the house continued.  George led them into a large room that was utilitarian.

        "Tarpaulins over the furnishings," he said.  He meant most of the furnishings.

        The objects not covered included figurines, an ancient but well-kept radio set that stood four feet tall, and a small cabinet.  He left the other things covered.  That was a mistake, one that would have been recognized by Jack, but Jack hadn't looked in this part of the house.  The tarpaulins covered some newly purchased furniture.  These items were meant for the reception room, and they'd been left here a couple of days ago.  Karen would supervise the rearranging when she got back.  Edie accepted George's assumption that these were drab substitutes or simply items to be discarded.

        He said, "You're thinking, why use this big room as a storage closet?"  He shrugged.

        Edie commented, "I'm sure this room had some other purpose.  Usually there's a tell-tale feature, even the corners or the ceiling."  Offhand she couldn't say what it was.  "There's an even larger, central room that's used this way at the Kemler mansion.  Or it was, the last time I was there."

        Bridget reminded them, "We still have to look upstairs, don't we?  The best is yet to come?"

        They climbed the nearby stairway.  Despite Bridget's eagerness, the first impression was hardly electrifying.

        They kept moving through the different rooms.  Only a few could merit discussion.  They came to the largest of the compartments. 

        Eventually Bridget was mentioning the less obvious traits of a basket that Karen had positioned on a shelf.  It was made of material that one person in a thousand had heard of.

        The young woman said, "This looks like about nineteen seventy-five.  I'm thinking it postdates the work done by the Bisenius Brothers and other groups.  The structure's innovative..."

        It was impressive the way she could continue, beginning a new direction with a basket.  She continued without interruption for several minutes.

        The older woman finally had a question.  "Is there still a demand for this kind of thing?"

        "There is," Bridget said, but she had to explain.  "It depends on where you go.  The market is very scattered.  This country is by no means a center for the market."  She gave a geography lesson.

        Asking to be excused for a moment, George walked to the other side of the room and looked out a large window.  He thought he might see, near the smaller buildings behind the house, the one Lounsbury subordinate he had to bother being in sync with.  George was at the window for a couple of minutes, not exactly desperate.

        The workshop was a long rectangle.  The two workmen had left the area, going somewhere else for the lunchbreak.  George recalled having seen the versatile Norris Maynard much earlier.  Now he caught another glimpse.  The man who was more than a personal aide and more than a security officer was removing supplies of some kind from a company vehicle.  This was towards the other end of the workshop.  It would help if he could talk to Norris right now, but George was reluctant.  Communicating with him by cell phone was always a last resort.  He didn't know why, but when talking by phone the man seemed more likely to ask for favors.  Now it didn't matter, because he had begun walking this way.  He'd bring supplies into the house.

        As he got closer to the main building he was observed by the man in the Buick.

        Norris was in a position to know of Ben's messages to and from a person in the States Development Authority.  The billionaire couldn't ignore the SDA, the interstate compact.  This other VIP shared some of Ben's opinions about society.  He'd spoken of a man he had something against, but the resentment was only partly based on social-political views.  Beyond that it was a case of some unique interaction between two persons.  His pleading seemed obvious : wouldn't his friend Lounsbury help him solve this problem?  The man at the SDA would send a representative.

        Norris was informed about security organizations to a degree that might seem preternatural.  He could tell you about conspiracies that were still prospective.  But what he knew about victims was hopelessly meager.  He could have used information from Jack, and Jack wasn't talking.

        On the other hand, Jack was viewing.  He'd been shown the electronic way to something ambitious - the central exhibit the museum director and other persons had been creating.  At present the exhibit was in a podcast instead of a building.  The images were not the kind that people describe as pornography.  There was a deceptive playfulness with representations of humans in their different social types.  This was no violation of diversity sanctimony.  But there was a fondness for despair.  He saw that death by arson was a common motif.  Another one took the form of seemingly trivial social blunders.  You couldn't find a redeeming thread in the portrayal of humans.  The exhibit still had a ways to go, and the final manifestation would be the world's largest museum, a victory of stone construction.

        When George was dealing with Edie and Bridget, the SDA's representative was already finished conferring with Ben Lounsbury.  This had occurred at the foothills retreat on the previous day.  The man came to the remote location, seemed friendly and eager to help and then left the cabin after a couple of hours.  The talk was fascinating but Ben was misled.  Without knowing it he had encouraged a criminal deed.  This was highly unusual.  There had been times when he wasn't able to plead ignorance.

        After Norris reached the house he put the supplies in a closet, then joined the discussion.

        George was candidly suggesting, "You might get results from Ben if you don't talk about him outside a smaller group."

        Edie said, "But you think he'll contribute to one of the magazines."

        "He talked about doing that eventually."

        Edie mentioned Karen.  "I know she's involved in some of these organizations.  It still isn't that easy if you try to get her to see certain people."

        George added, "The ones at the relevant agencies.  I know the ones you mean."

        Edie continued, "I've talked to Ben and Karen both.  Ben's more amiable, Karen's reserved."  There was a question about profile.  "You said something at the Millgrove Center that seemed to describe the family, but it wasn't very clear.  I thought you said they have a philosophy they keep to themselves - not stating it for the public.  I would have asked about it in the Q and A, but we ran out of time."  She was indignant.  "Those other questions were so complicated!" 

        Bridget gave her opinion.  "I listened to her at a fundraiser, once.  She was talking to the group, a few dozen people."  Bridget hesitated, then said, "You may be right.  She told us lots of things, but I sure couldn't classify her when it was over."

        Yes, the Lounsburys would make some public statements, and George remembered well enough.  He explained, "Let's just say their philosophy doesn't come out in a press conference or on the Internet - with one exception for the Internet."  Nor did the exception, the 'inspirational' video, have to do with business policy.  "Sometimes they're more informative when they talk to an individual.  It might be an academic person or it might be a businessman who does pretty well but isn't exactly famous.  At times I've been there to see it happen."

        Edie asked, "Is there a publication, a book or something?"

        "Nothing very definite," George admitted.

        But he knew the philosophy could be tolerated by Darren Klinski.

        In looking at polemics on the Internet he was bemused as well as stimulated by some opponents of development.  The literature of one faction was especially thoughtful, confounding the accepted wisdom.  He had never brought this up when talking to Ben.

        He knew that Jack too had some inhibitions when talking to his brother.  Jack had learned some very sensitive details regarding the interest group that tried to force Ben's cooperation when he'd been approached by the researchers.  He had mentioned this to Ben and made a suggestion, but he was rebuffed.

        There's a time and a place to talk about something sensitive.  George could tell these women about some of it.

        "We actually fear the problem of theft," he said.  "I mean we're taking nothing for granted.  We have reasonable security precautions.  There's the standard thief, working for his own benefit, nothing more.  We're more afraid of thieves that promote a political cause, especially a cause that's new and relatively unknown.  We think such people would like to inflict more damage, more than just material theft."

        "Have you been victimized?" Bridget asked.

        George nodded, replying, "Something I won't describe in detail, but it's true that we've lost some things."

        In taking part here in the lecture tour Norris refrained - at least at the outset - from asking questions that were more than casual.  He did have to answer a few questions, and he struggled with some.  George was able to shoulder most of that burden.

        The spokesman said, "Every place like this has to be protected one of two ways..."  He began a series of surprising, informative comments.

        Norris had been listening, or trying to, for quite a while when he received a text alert from one of his subordinates.  The alert contained useful information.  It would be made use of in due time.  Right now Norris told himself that one more visitor was expected.  That person was arriving any moment now. 

        As a person who exemplified freelance or 'independent' work, Neal Douglas had a way of resisting many commands that came from senior management.  He could still flourish to some extent.  Edie secured permission for him to be at the mansion the same afternoon she was.  His name didn't have to be mentioned for this.  In emails to Ben she described the writer as a consultant.  She also claimed that he had a sympathetic elitism.  That idea might be speciously based on some of Neal's commentaries.  The fact that he was an accomplished writer didn't mean the Lounsburys knew something about him apart from what had been mentioned by Jack.  It was thought that he could be used for the sake of good press.  Like others he was only human, but the relevant publishers believed he had the correct social preference.  And this phase of his life was tranquil.  Though he glorified women as a class, his three broken marriages would suggest that he couldn't get along with the most important ones in his life.  That was behind him now, and in this present journalistic mission he believed he was doing what he, not senior management, preferred.  He liked to think he'd find something wrong with Lounsbury.  What he'd heard from Edie sounded like a promise of breakthrough.  Before he traveled to the sprawling residence he gained a sufficient description of the place, including photographs.  These were almost impossible to come by.  Not quite as personable as George, he somehow gained people's trust in most encounters.

        When he arrived at the place, he parked and left a few spaces between his car and Edie's.  He stood at the curb for a moment, studying the house.  From its look he thought the building material had to be sandstone.  The second floor featured a couple of long balconies.  In a flash of remembrance, he thought once more that he hadn't been able to speak with Ben the paramount, and wouldn't be able to this afternoon, either.  He couldn't even reach the man in virtual terms.  If his most important questions were to be answered, someone else would have to do that.  He knew that person wouldn't be the useless brother, Jack. 

        Neal was led, by Ben's oldest daughter, up the long stone stairway that approached the corner instead of the wide front.  Some people thought this was a more interesting feature than the huge but merely five step stairway that went to the main entrance. 

        The sender of repulsive gifts drove away from the neighborhood.  He'd been able to take advantage of the situation, gaining a definite sense of the visitors' roster.

        Once inside, the young woman accompanying Neal heard voices coming from the nearest of the upstairs rooms.  Now she called for someone to come down the stairs.  The one who appeared in response was Norris.

        He greeted the final guest and led him to the others.  As they ascended he told the visitor, "You're able to make these people seem fascinating."

        Ben's daughter walked in the direction of Tom's corner suite.  On the way there she stopped a couple of times and considered problems of maintenance.  The problems that other people couldn't see, this woman could see.  Fortunately there was nothing here to compare with a hard-to-notice accident waiting to happen that she'd found outside, around in back.  She'd tell one of the men in the workshop.  Now she'd spend some time with Tom because, among other things, it was fun to hear his crotchety sniping about the latest governor of the state.  She had a kind of reverence for Tom, but no so much for the man who had raised her.  Tom had called her this morning and, just as he'd been invited to participate with the visiting group, he invited her likewise.  It was fine if she wanted to see these people.  She accepted, but it wasn't that she wanted to hear the lecture.  She'd stay out of sight, either talking to grandfather, looking at old photographs, whatever.  She knew the folklore about one of the rooms especially.  Instead of tagging along as they went through the place and made every stop, she'd ask one of the guys afterward if something nice had been added to the story of that special room. 

        When Norris and the other man joined the people upstairs, Bridget was the one talking.  

        "Yes, he came to the museum," she said.  "I didn't see the antagonism, but he made it clear that any gift would be based on some revision of policy."

        This referred to a man somewhat wealthier than Ben.  The man was well-known for giving generously to political causes, especially the ones called politicians.  The museum director, by interacting as he did with this man, had forfeited some of the collection's possible benefits.  Edie had yet to be heard from regarding the plutocrat's character.

        Neal had some hostile opinions about the plutocrat, but this didn't seem like the time or the place for such discourse.  Right now he was introduced to the other people in the room. 

        He couldn't help noticing the fabulous artifact that was supported on a shelf near the ceiling.  George and his guests had already talked about it.  The journalist knew something that was bound to be kept secret.  The man of the house had, believe it or not, stolen the prized possession.  It was baffling.  How could you get away with such a thing?  The artifact was a container made of the costliest material, with embossed representative design - the highest workmanship.  Neal was willing to look away from the prize.  He wouldn't be too obvious in his admiration.

        He was also willing to set aside, for the time being, his inclination to wonder how sycophantic these people were.

        He spoke, when his turn came, about the publicity system.  He declared, "I hate to seem so hidebound, but the reforms that people ever talk about won't make a difference.  Reform the legislation, reform the court system - you can try, but I'm pessimistic."  He was looking at each person in turn.  "And it doesn't apply to my kind of journalism or to celebrity.  They have their own vitality.  You can't mess with it.  Even Ben said something to that effect."

        George commented, "I wish I could remember him saying that."  

        Norris had the same thought.  He told Neal, "It doesn't sound like him.  I'd say he's always been against the kind of wisdom that doesn't seem to cost anything, including the wisdom associated with a profession.  Celebrity means nothing."  Somehow that seemed to finish the topic.

        They walked into a room that was smaller - the one they had agreed would be last.

        This was the time for a story about a family named Ogden, who lived in a house on the shore of the Sound.

        Edie began, "Despite what some people have said, the house is nothing like this one."  She was looking around the room.  "Upper middle class.  A nice enough house.  The thing is, there's a room in which a psychotropic episode happened.  Something criminal, some violation by a corporate interest."

        Not quite seriously George replied, "A person being interrogated by the SDA, or some such?" 

        "Not by the SDA or any well-known group.  Frank Ogden's family has been consistent, repeating the story of what happened to his nephew.  They believe it was done by people working for a wealthy man having some unique purpose."  After she completely told the anecdote Edie raised her voice a bit.  "The same thing has happened in this room, apparently." 

        "On the testimony of one person," George answered, "a person who has never lived here."

        "That's true."

        Obviously George had heard the narrative before, and was unconvinced.

        Bridget asked, "You mean it happened to a guest, without Ben or his wife knowing about it?"

        "They'd gone to the foothills retreat for three days," George told her.  "Whatever it was, it happened six years ago."

        He gave the name of the supposed victim - not someone of prominence in the family history.

        Edie said, "The purpose may have been mind control without emphasizing interrogation."

        George added, "I wasn't here when it happened, if it did happen.  There were some employees nearby, but they couldn't clarify the events."

        He let the other people in the room state their opinions.  He finally got a chance to hear Edie's opinion of the plutocrat, and he got a thoughtful answer.  Edie's remarks about the scary philanthropist were somewhat generous.  According to her the man was very stern and could be ruthless, but he was never deceitful.  If he'd cooperate directly with Ben Lounsbury there might be terrific benefits for the museum.

        The protector was losing interest.  He walked over to the furthest corner, to rest in the most comfortable looking chair.  As he passed by Neal the writer was saying into his smartphone, "We're not far from Bremerton."

        Over the next hour Neal spoke with everyone present, but with George more than the others.  He seemed willing to accept a miscellaneous testimony from this man, as if this man was a great resource, whether or not supplemented by statements from Ben's relatives.  George was ignorant about Neal's perspective, and didn't care.  He'd answer a few questions from this person who had to be humored.  It didn't take long.  

        Before he left the house Neal managed to locate, on a stand in one of the shorter hallways, a group of envelopes and packages.  All of these had been addressed to Ben, and the smaller of the two packages was from Neal.  He'd been motivated by what he knew of the infamous package received earlier by the family.  Word of the unpleasant 'gift' had been leaked by an employee.  Neal's contribution was more friendly.  But he had sent two packages, only one of which was here.  Probably Ben had opened the first one before he took his drive to the retreat.  He'd seen the contents and had something to think about.

        Today Neal made some gracious comments to the others, then drove away.

        George recalled a meeting that Ben had five or six weeks ago.  He'd thought of it now and then, but it suddenly gained meaning in his awareness.  Ben had conversed with another man in the so-called trophy room, upstairs.  The room had nothing that would be considered a trophy.  It was really a spacious lounge, with no other apparent purpose.  They talked and didn't seem to care if the spokesman came or went.  He heard them frivol with chatter.  The delicate nature of employment here kept him from asking to join the conversation, and he wasn't invited.  He was never told the man's name.  He walked out to his annex office, did a couple of minor tasks, then walked back towards the upstairs room of the conversation.  As he got close to the room he saw Jack emerging from it.  The man didn't notice George.  He walked in the other direction away from the room and he muttered, "Stupid pricks!"  At the time this seemed inexplicable.  After the meeting with Edie and Bridget the occurrence would look more suspicious.  

        George was already beginning to form a conjecture as Neal drove away from the house.  He looked at the extraordinary container that occupied the shelf near the ceiling.  Just as Neal had, he managed to look away before too long - managed to avoid being obvious.  Tom's rumors began sliding into place.  These were suggestions that meant only so much to Tom, but they could be used against Ben.  Then again George didn't see how the son's reckless deeds could be exposed.  He couldn't be sure of the criminal history.  He was convinced that some people much worse than his boss were planning something against him.

        Right before the women made their departure, Norris told George that he'd be dropping out of sight and making some phone calls.  It was time to deal with the problem indicated by the alert from his subordinate.

        It was only after he headed to his own office that Edie raised a question about him, a question that somehow hadn't been addressed.  Edie wanted to know what exactly he did as a 'Lounsbury' man.

        "It's amorphous," George answered.  "He does some personnel work, checks information, helps to screen people out - "

        "Bodyguard?" she asked.

        "We don't like that term," he said.

        Edie claimed to see a change in museum philosophy.

        "The Western cultural prejudice is falling by the wayside.  We're not just learning from the Asians.  We're learning in new ways from previous millenia."  She was happiest when dogmatic.  "We're escaping the influence of Donald Trump's Aryans."

        George wouldn't argue the point. 

        There was a final remark about Bridget.  She was in another room, using her phone.

        Edie said, "She's awfully young, but very bright.  We covered a lot of ground."

        "It went very well," George agreed.  "I think you're all set."

        It was almost four o' clock when the women walked out the front door and moved along towards the car.

        Edie drove away, congratulating her passenger on a fine performance.

        Ben's daughter spoke to George after the women had left.

        She made a light-hearted reference to Tom.  Then she asked, "Will you go see him, now?"

        George replied, "Is this about your dad's notorious friends?"

        "I think so."

        There was no hurry, he thought.  "Tom would've been a welcome addition to our group here.  He has knowledge about the subject."

        It was something the old man had emphasized when his granddaughter came to his suite.  He settled for an audience of one.

        "He wouldn't come over," she admitted.  "He doesn't trust anyone from the media.  It's made worse by the fact that mom and dad are out of town.  That's the way he looks at it."

        A few more statements were made, and then George walked over to Tom's little niche.

        Differences between two generations can be exaggerated, yet significant.  When he spoke to George, Ben's father summarized the comparisons without reminiscing or wallowing.  There were some things he'd make it a point to forget.  Both he and his son could be considered selfish in their pursuit of advantage.  What he said to George now was entertaining and might influence the spokesman's point of view before too long.  At the moment there was no sense of urgency.

        George went back to his office and resumed what he had spent much time doing this year, examining the online discourse that relates globalism to the SDA.  He smelled a conspiratorial rodent. 

        As for Norris Maynard, the problem was maximum disclosure - the fact that he couldn't handle it.  He conferred with his hard-working subordinate.  He was confused by what the young man told him about the museum director.  It was revealed that the official had been promoting the interests of a criminal cabal.  Norris would never have the nerve to talk about this with Bridget Carlson.  The director was finished.  Having heard, Norris could think of some things he should do in response. 

        During this week Jack Lounsbury had kept in touch with two of Ben's children - the son and the oldest daughter.  He tried to convince the daughter that the lore of the infamous room shouldn't be taken seriously.  But her affection for the lore was rock solid. 

        He also tried to convince them that Darren was reasonable, but they should know that some of Darren's acquaintances were in a different class altogether.  Ben had to be kept free of them.  Norris could be trusted, up to a point, as the watchdog.  The son confided regarding a person who had approached him.  For the first time in his life he had heard his father accused of something.  Jack made a statement that consoled the son.

        One of Darren Klinski's former companions had a provocative online bulletin.  Ben should have a look at one passage especially :

        "The push towards universalism is for the most part well-intentioned.  But here and there Altfederalism gives the corrective influence.  We're not afraid to use preventive, righteous physical force.  The scruples of the mainstream are astonishing.  The longstanding verbal abhorrence of 'treason' and 'sedition' is the inhibition of weaklings.  Altfederalism removes the taboo."

        George couldn't get more than a meagerly factual, noncommittal statement from Darren about the existence of Altfederalism.

        "Isn't there a branch of law enforcement that monitors these people?" he had asked, in the week before Edie's visit.

        "There must be," Darren said, "but I'm sure it's low-profile."

        The most emphatic statement that Darren received concerning Ben's attitude came from Jack, not from George.  The point was made in a text he got around ten o'clock the night of Edie's visit.  Jack discouraged the idea that Ben would make any further financial contributions to the movement.  The warning was premature.

        Before the Lounsburys came back from the retreat, the top-tier employees at the firm learned of Ben's latest propaganda video.  This one was more tactful than his earlier one.  Ben wasn't hokey enough to run for public office, and whatever he was up to he had decided to make use of someone from outside his customary circle.  This man spoke for the billionaire.  It seemed the advocacy was in favor of more permissive rules about industrial espionage.  This would be seen as working to benefit the most elite members of the developer class.  The attitude wasn't just something Ben had picked up from the SDA.  He'd always thought that successful developers are the highest class of citizens.  Nasty problems that included law enforcement and judicial processing were the responsibilities of lesser officials. 

        On Wednesday Norris answered a call from a person he'd seen a few times as far back as college.

        The man said, "I have my official reason for asking you this.  Who were you talking to yesterday?"

        Norris gave the names.

        As he listened for a few minutes he learned of developments that he found intriguing and astonishing.

        Finally he said, "From what you tell me it sounds like you've already got plenty of information.  I'm impressed, and it surprises me that you could tell me as much as you have.  I won't ask for any more."

        The man assured him, "There are some things we can do quickly.  I agree, we can't say more than we have."

        After the call ended he walked over to where George was taking it easy in back of the house.  Nobody called this place a patio, but it could be used like one.  George was resting in a chair close to the door at the laundry room.

        Reaching him, the protector stated, "Neal Douglas is dead.  They're calling it murder."

        Like his coworker, George hadn't known the victim well enough to be jolted.  But he immediately thought there'd have to be one very big suspect.  This morning Jack had told him that the man in the trophy room was another person sent by the SDA.

        Looking back at the opportunities, Norris would always be troubled in regard to the warning from his subordinate.  He could have done things differently.  There was the wealthy do-gooder, antagonized by the museum director.  That fact, and the director's outspoken globalism, made Norris think of Altfederalism and the SDA.  Add the journalist's hostile mindset - but it was too easy to make inferences, looking back.

        The reports came quickly.  Someone had left Neal's body in a motel room about two miles from the mansion.  The killer had left bewildering traces in the form of pigments and plastic flakes that he spread over the corpse.  He was flaunting his audacity, or something.

        When Ben got the word about Neal's death he had to put aside his binoculars.  From a distance he'd been studying what was left of a loggers' flume.  He had also seen to it - years ago - that cell phone reception in the area was at least tolerable.  He began to speculate after he listened to the concise report from Norris.  Then he told Karen about it.  She had known that the writer would be seeing someone at the mansion this week, and Ben could soon guess what she was thinking.

        Some attempts were made in the next few days to transform Neal's reputation.  There was denial of some flaws in his work history and early domestic arrangements.  But one thing was accurately stressed by survivors : his opposition to many strands of industrial and commercial development.  This attitude had always been obvious to his readers.  It was acknowledged in the long obituary published by a friend.

        But he had never publicly expressed his opinions about the strangest kind of building project supported by Altfederalism and others - the supremely depraved exhibit.  His dislike of the exhibit was a by-product of his resistance to the plans of developers in general.

        It would become obvious that the people who desired the exhibit were the ones attempting the psychotropic raid at the house.  The victim in that upstairs room was presumed to be a relative or friend of Ben's.  The intruders had hoped his mind could give something to be represented by features of the exhibit.

        When the Lounsburys came back to the house the weather was more pleasant than it had been recently.  Karen went first to an easy chair, and Ben walked over to see the latest offerings of paper and cardboard mail.

        There must be degrees of wrongful behavior.  Even Ben was innocent, compared to the man he'd talked to in the trophy room and compared to the man at the foothills retreat.  That fact wouldn't protect his feelings.

        He opened the package from Neal.  The long, printed paragraph inside was almost impossible to understand if the recipient hadn't seen the message contained in the first package.  That was a problem, because the first package had been cleverly intercepted.  Ben hadn't seen it.  But the problem wasn't hopelessly cryptic.  Vital information was coming by the hour.  Before long the object in Ben's hands would be conclusive evidence regarding the plot to take the life of Neal Douglas.