Political Science 101

Chapter Thirty-Seven

MITCH SAT with a perplexed gaze, staring out the window of his office, wondering why his boss, the president of the university at which he taught, had given him a copy of this letter, written as an eerie (and perhaps unknowing) prophetic last word of his now-deceased friend. Leaning back in his own office chair (which almost never squeaked), Mitch considered reading the letter again (for the tenth-or-so time in the three days he'd had it), somewhat convinced there was must have been something he was missing. He contemplated the propriety of asking Dr. McFarlane a few follow-up questions about the letter, but he'd gotten the distinct impression that McFarlane was only interested in answers, not more questions.

"Am I supposed to decipher something here?" he said aloud to no one in particular. "Does he think I'm Robert Langdon?" Mitch shook his head and leaned forward in his chair, letting out a deep and labored sigh as he rested his elbows on his knees and leaned his forehead onto the edge of his desk.

He closed his eyes and searched his mind for answers.

Sitting up, he reached across his desk and decided, one more time, to read the letter, hoping for an epiphany.

My Friend,

This is a difficult letter to write. But you are the closest thing to a brother I have, so there are some things you should know.

I know we don't speak much these days, and for that, I apologize. Our lives and careers have taken such different roads that it seems like we are worlds apart.

I want you to know that I will likely be exposed for some terrible things I've done. I cannot take these things back and I know this. I have no illusions of trying to change the past. I involved myself with a woman who is the epitome of evil. When she entered my life, I found myself doing things and agreeing to things I never dreamed I'd be capable of doing. My choices weren't her fault; I made my own decisions, but she was certainly the devil on my shoulder and the demon in my heart.

As I write this, no one knows . . . yet. But they will, soon. I cannot keep living like this. I'd decided to try to make things right, somehow. I'm not sure how, but one step is to stop submitting to her every bidding. I know for a fact that she controls numerous people the way she controls me. But no longer. I must do the right thing.

I am telling you this in case I don't get the chance to take action, in case I lose my nerve, or worse. Everything could fall apart before I have a chance to make it right. If that happens, if everything comes unraveled, please, my friend, know that I tried to atone for the evil I've done.

It's not enough for me to simply stop what I was doing and go on living life as though I'd done nothing. I owe it to everyone I betrayed, everyone I've hurt, and everyone who trusted me, to try to make things right, somehow.

I deserve to be punished for what I've done and what I have allowed to happen. But until then, I can only work to oppose the forces I once wholeheartedly supported.

"The darkest places in Hell are reserved for those whomaintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis."

Your Friend,

Arnold Jenkins