Wilson — Cambridge, MA
A FedEx letter arrived for Wilson just as the family was preparing to leave for Carter’s graveside service at Cambridge Cemetery. His mother, Rachel, Darrin, and their FBI escorts decided to go ahead while Wilson and Emily waited for Driggs and Irving to examine the thin package for explosives and other chemicals. When they were satisfied it was clean, they handed it to Wilson. Inside was a one-page letter from Carter and the key to a safety-deposit box. The letter was hand-written on Hotel San Fantin stationery. Wilson took a deep breath and walked to the den where he sat down before reading the letter. Emily sat next to him. They read the letter together.
Dear Wilson,
I should never have agreed to pull the trigger. We were both dead men walking and we knew it. Our only hope was to come up with a ploy so shocking and yet believable that it would keep one of us alive. With your father and Tate locked in a power struggle, the ‘role’ of staying alive fell to me, almost by default. Your father and I had to convince Tate of my loyalty and that I had no intention of exposing the partnership. But now, I can no longer live with what I did. My ambition for this life has been exhausted.
Your inclination will be to finish what we started, but it’s not worth it. This obsession has destroyed our lives and brought only suffering and misery to the ones we love. Things will never change. I know that now. The enclosed key is to a safety-deposit box at Boston Private Bank amp; Trust on Boylston Street. Your great-grandfather’s memoirs should be inside. They are what started us down this fateful path. Your father decided not to share them with you until after we had accomplished our disclosure. My advice to you is to let them sleep.
I pray your father will eventually emerge from his coma. I can only hope that the position of the bullet gives him some chance of recovery. Tell him that I miss him. Enjoy your life with Emily; she’s one in a billion. Forgive us, if you can. Lastly, would you mind watching over my Elizabeth and the girls? They know about everything, but I doubt they fully understand. Maybe you can help, especially with my grandchildren.
With Deepest Love and Sympathy,
Carter Emerson
Wilson sat motionless on the sofa next to Emily, no longer agitated or dumbfounded by the unending twists and turns. But Carter’s letter didn’t ring true. Things will never change. I know that now. Bullshit, Wilson thought. Neither Carter nor his father would ever believe that.
“Do you believe it?” Emily looked at him, giving voice to the question that was in his mind.
“No,” he said as he stood up and took Emily by the hand. “Do you?”
“No,” she replied without hesitation and wrapped her arms around him.
As they left for the graveside service, Wilson mulled things over. Generations of concealed corruption could only be overcome by generations of open revolution. His generation had no choice but to engage.