The Collective

Chapter 6: Digging Up the Past

McKinsey generally spends the mornings alone in his office, but he won't have that luxury today. Not after what I read last night. Once he knows what we found, he's going to want to devote as much time and energy as possible to getting to the bottom of this.

I walk down the hallway to McKinsey's office and knock on the door. He waits a moment before telling me to come in. I can tell he's annoyed, but when he sees me walk through the door, his face brightens up.

"Ah, just the person I wanted to see," he says to my surprise. "I had Kelly schedule a press conference for this afternoon. After last night's news segment, I wanted the city to know our office has already been working on this issue, that we've taken the missing ludds seriously from the very beginning. It'll be great press for us."

His last comment leaves a sour taste in my mouth, but I'm glad he's in such a good mood. With a press conference planned and McKinsey ready to share our progress, everything can hopefully be resolved soon.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," I say. He motions for me to sit, so I do. "I've been looking into the missing ludds like you asked, and I've found something big." He leans forward and rubs his hands together.

"Well, what is it?" he asks. "Don't keep me waiting."

"I think Smith Capital is somehow involved in the ... disappearances." I hesitate to call them kidnappings because we don't know what they are yet, but that's looking more and more to be the case.

McKinsey remains still, his face unchanged. I can't tell what he's thinking. Finally, he stands up slowly from his desk and walks behind me. He crosses the room and shuts the door before turning around to face me.

"When you took this job," he says, "did you notice that our office pays substantially higher than the other councilmembers?" His question catches me off guard.

"I, I didn't pay attention, to be honest," I say. "I was more interested in the work than the pay." McKinsey slowly paces to my left, his hands behind his back.

"When elections roll around every four years, do you ever wonder how we're able to put up so many ads?" I remain silent, following his movement back to his desk.

"Paying my team well, campaigning to win, that all requires money. And do you know who one of our biggest donors is?" He looks me right in the eyes, his face a slab of granite. My stomach drops and my hands go cold. I can feel my heartbeat in my ears.

"Smith Capital?" I finally say. The words sound like a cannon shot in the quiet room.

"Smith Capital," he repeats as he claps his hands together. "And do you know what we've accomplished in the ten years I've been in office?" I don't respond. My voice is buried somewhere deep inside me. "The crime rate is the lowest it's been since Capital City was founded, we have more business than ever before, and the city is growing beyond what we'd ever imagined. Now, I don't want to sound conceited, but I've been a vital part of these accomplishments. So, it's safe to say that, without me on the city council, Capital City wouldn't be the great success it is today."

McKinsey leans on his desk and crosses his legs. He's only inches away from me, his presence claustrophobic.

"All of this is to say that, if it got out that our office was baselessly accusing Smith Capital of being involved in these disappearances, we'd undoubtedly lose their patronage. Which means I'd have to fire some employees, and I'd probably lose my seat next election, as well. Which means me and you," he says, pointing between us, "wouldn't be able to do the good work we're doing for my constituents. Not to mention, the city definitely wouldn't survive the scandal. Capital City is built on the success of that company. Any ramifications would punish everyone who lives here. Do you really want that?"