Page 28 of Sebastian

“Her breast cancer was advanced, stage four. She hadn’t done a mammogram in more than ten years. I hate to say this, but if she had done her yearly check-ups, she very well could have survived this. Even with the chemo and radiation, she really didn’t have a chance.”

“And the experimental treatment?” asked Chief.

“I see it mentioned in here, but it wasn’t even cleared for her type of breast cancer. I don’t believe she would have survived no matter what they did.”

“We know that she did end up going for the treatment in Germany, but she died shortly thereafter.” The doctor nodded, frowning.

“It’s not surprising. The treatment was for advanced-stage breast cancer of a different type, but by that point, the breast cancer was no longer the issue. It had spread to her brain. That’s what they should have attempted to slow. I’m not sure that this treatment would have helped with that at all.”

“Sir, I know that you deal primarily with veteran care, but can you give me a sense of what the care, in general, for our elderly is like in this country?” asked Chase.

“Now, that is a loaded question, young man,” he frowned, standing. “Walk with me. I only have a few more minutes to give you, but this is important. The care of our aging citizens should be something always on our minds, yet it is not. We worry about our children, as we should. We worry about our workers, as we should. But in America, it often feels as if when you reach a certain age, the age where you can no longer do everything for yourself, that you are no longer of value.

“Children forget that their parents and grandparents have wiped their noses, changed their diapers, stayed up all night with infections and fevers, cried over their boo-boos. It is expected that a parent should care for a child. But who cares for the parent? In other countries, they are revered for their wisdom and experience, their value to their culture. In America, they are tossed aside to drown in loneliness, poverty, and disease.”

“Jesus,” muttered Chase.

“You asked me to give you a sense of the care provided in this country for the elderly. It isn’t a question about old or young, good care or bad care. It’s about wealthy or poor. If you have money, you will always get the treatment you need, even if you’re alone. If you do not, you struggle to pay for your medications, your options for care facilities are limited to nursing homes that care nothing of your former life or value. Not all, but many. Your life will end before it should. I know that’s a somber note, gentlemen, but that’s the best I can do.”

“You’ve been very helpful, sir. Thank you,” said Chief. “Oh, and by the way, the receptionist needs a raise.”

Jalen and Tiger entered the Treasury building directly across from the White House. They placed their weapons in the bins and walked through the scanners, showing their IDs. They didn’t need to show their weapons. They could have simply walked through with the stealth netting, but they were trying to do everything by the book.

“Can we help you, gentlemen?” asked the officer.

“We’re looking for the personnel office,” said Jalen.

“Fourth floor, second door on the left,” he said, pointing to the elevators. With a dozen other people, they piled into the elevators and made their way upstairs. Opening the office door, they were surprised to only see one person sitting in the space. A young man.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“We’d like to speak to someone about a couple of former employees that we believe may be responsible for some recent bank robberies.”

“I’m the only one here,” he said, standing to greet them. “My name is Jay Walsh. I’m an assistant human resources director. Are you with an agency?”

“No. We’re private investigators helping the FBI.” He looked at their IDs and then typed something into the computer and nodded.

“Who is it you’re interested in?”

“The first person is Willie Carter.”

“Old Willie,” smiled the younger man. “He was great. That guy knew everyone, knew where to find everything, and was probably responsible for training half the people in this building. He was a records administrator but had a crazy, wicked memory. He remembered every detail about everyone.”

“When he retired, was it voluntarily?” asked Jalen.

“Retired? Willie didn’t retire. I mean, not really. He said it was time to move on, and he was going to do something else for a while. He left, and last I heard, he was working part-time at some convenience store. He didn’t need the money. Not that I know of, anyway. He was at the top of his pay grade and single. He was very frugal. I used to joke with him about driving a twenty-year-old car.”

“But he had access to all the tax records, is that right?” asked Tiger.

“Yes. Everything. Who else?”

“Ed Morgan and Nick Cunningham.”

“Oh, that’s interesting you’re asking that. Ed, Willie, and Nick were all good friends. They weren’t all the same age, but about the same era. They’d been here forever. Poor Nick died suddenly, had a stroke at his desk or something. It wasn’t long after that Ed and Willie decided to do something else. They were all really nice people. It was a shame what the system did to them.”

Jalen and Tiger stared at one another, then slowly looked up at the younger man.

“What did the system do to them?”