"Maybe you need some basic lessons. You're the one running around with the woman who let Bruno be kidnapped."
"She didn't let Bruno be kidnapped any more than I let Clyde Ritter get shot."
"The fact is, I'm investigating Bruno's disappearance, and at this juncture I can't assume anyone is above suspicion, including your lady friend Michelle."
"Great, and she's not my ‘lady friend.' "
"Okay, what exactly is she?"
"I'm just following up some stuff, and she's helping me."
"Wonderful. I'm glad you've teamed up with someone, since it appears you've blown me off completely. Is Maxwell also offering a million-dollar payday if you crack the case, or just a kick-ass adventure between the sheets?"
He eyed her closely. "Don't tell me you're jealous."
"Maybe I am, Sean. But regardless, I think I at least deserve an answer to my offer."
King glanced in the direction of Michelle's room but turned back when Joan put a hand on his arm.
"I need to get going on this. And you never know, we might just find out the
He stared defiantly at her. "Yeah, we just might," he shot back.
"So you're in? I need to know. Right now."
After a moment he nodded. "I'm in."
They flew via private plane to Dayton, Ohio, and then drove to a state mental facility that was about thirty minutes north. Joan had called ahead and gotten the necessary approvals to visit Sidney Morse.
"It wasn't as difficult as I would have thought," she told King on the drive there. "Although when I told the woman whom I wanted to see, she laughed. Said we could come if we wanted, but it wouldn't do us much good."
"How long has Morse been there?" King asked.
"About a year or so. He was committed by his family. Or rather his brother, Peter Morse. I guess that's all the family he had left."
"I thought Peter Morse was in trouble with the police. And wasn't he a druggie?"
" ‘
"Why in Ohio?"
"It seems that prior to being committed, Sidney was living with his brother here. I guess he was so far gone he couldn't live by himself."
King shook his head. "Talk about your reversal of fortune. In less than ten years the guy goes from king of the hill to permanent residence in a nuthouse."
Alittle while later King and Joan were sitting in a small room at the bleak institution. The sounds of wails and cries and sobbing filtered down the hallways. People whose minds had long since left them were hunched over in wheelchairs in the corridors. In a recreation room off the main reception area a small group of patients watched a show on TV. Nurses, doctors and attendants slowly moved up and down the halls in their scrubs, their energy seemingly sapped by the depressing surroundings.
King and Joan both stood as the man was wheeled into the room by one of the attendants. The young man nodded to them. "Okay, here's Sid."
The young man knelt down in front of Morse and patted him on the shoulder. "Okay, Sid, these people want to talk to you, okay, you hear me? It's cool, just talk." The attendant grinned when he said this.
He stood and Joan said, "Um, is there anything we should know, anything to avoid?"
The man smiled, showing a row of crooked teeth. "Not with Sid. It really doesn't matter."
King hadn't been able to take his gaze off the wreck of a man who eight years ago had nearly pulled off one of the most impressive feats in American politics. Morse had lost some weight but was still chubby. His hair had been shaved off, although he had a short beard shot with gray. King had remembered his eyes being laser sharp, missing nothing. Now those eyes were clearly lifeless. It
He said, "So what's the diagnosis?"
"That he ain't never leaving here, that's what," said the attendant, who introduced himself as Carl. "His mind's totally gone. Cracked out and ain't coming back. Look, I'll be down the hall. You can just come get me when you're done." Carl walked off.
Joan glanced at King. "I can't believe it's him," she said. "I know his rep and career took a big hit after Ritter was killed, but you'd think it wouldn't come to
"Maybe it happened in stages. And I guess a lot can happen in eight years. I mean look at me. He was shattered after the Ritter debacle. Nobody wanted him. He grew depressed. And maybe his younger brother introduced a very vulnerable Sidney to some heavy drugs while they were living together. I recall during the campaign that Sidney said his brother's drug habit had gotten him into a lot of trouble. He said his brother was pretty creative in coming up with ways to get the cash to support his habit. Quite the con man."
King knelt in front of Morse. "Sidney, Sidney, do you remember me? I'm Sean King. Agent Sean King," he added.