84: Court’s Ending

Farrell did not speak immediately. He licked his lips and glanced at those whom he faced before settling his gaze on Finrod, his expression haughty.

"Why should I answer any of your questions? This isn’t a court of law, whatever you claim, and I’m not impressed by parlor tricks." He sneered at Námo who simply raised an eyebrow.

"We are giving you the opportunity to explain yourself, Mr. Farrell," Finrod replied. "According to Deputy Director Washburn, she never authorized you or any agent other than Mr. Meriwether to come here and learn the truth of whether Ryan McKinley and Ambrose Elwood were one and the same. So who sent you here and why?"

"I had every right to be here," Farrell insisted hotly. "Maddy Washburn isn’t the only person who can give orders and make them stick."

"So which deputy director sent you?" Artemus asked, standing. "I was under the impression Maddy told no one else about Elwood possibly being alive." He cast a glance toward Maddy, who shook her head.

"You are out of line, Mr. Meriwether," Daeron said firmly. "Please sit and remain silent."

Artemus paled somewhat and sat, now looking embarrassed. Derek leaned over and gave him a pat on his arm and smiled knowingly.

"Yet, it is a legitimate question," Valandur said. "So who sent you and the others, Mr. Farrell and what were your orders?"

"My orders were to see that Meriwether didn’t screw up," Farrell replied harshly. "Which, of course, he did."

"Why was there a concern about Mr. Meriwether?" Finrod asked. "I am told he is one of the best and has long experience in dealing with certain people and situations. Why did whoever sent you feel this would not be the case now?"

Farrell shrugged. "Meriwether was Elwood’s protégé, or so I was told. They were very close. It stands to reason that when push came to shove, Meriwether would side with Elwood and wouldn’t do what was necessary."

"By that you mean, eliminate him," Valandur said.

"If necessary," Farrell said coldly.

"So your orders were to make sure that Meriwether carried out the orders to kill Ryan McKinley," Finrod stated.

"Elwood!" Farrell snarled, pointing toward Amroth’s general direction without actually looking at him. "That… that bastard is Ambrose Elwood, whatever other name he cares to call himself, and he murdered my uncle!"

"How can you be sure?" Daeron asked. "What proof do you have?"

"Samuel Bradford was my uncle, my mother’s brother," Farrell replied. "He recruited me for the Agency, but we kept our relationship a secret and I doubt anyone knew except maybe one or two of the higher-ups. I spent most of my time overseas and rarely got back to the States. Then, about two months before his disappearance, my uncle called me home. I was surprised because it was unheard of. If I were to be recalled it would be through my controllers.

"Anyway, when I got back to the States, Sam invited me to his summer house in Cape May for the weekend, another unheard of thing. We had been very careful to keep our relationship a secret and for good reasons. If others knew of it, they could use that relationship against us. Still, I was curious as to why my uncle was going against all protocol, so I joined him. At first we merely caught up with family news and I told him a bit about my own work and then he took me into his inner sanctum, a room in which no one, not even his wife, was allowed to enter unless invited. That’s when he showed me the files."

"And what files were those?" Finrod asked.

"Files pertaining to one Ambrose Elwood," Farrell replied, turning in his seat to glare at Amroth, "the person who murdered my uncle."

There was murmuring among the listeners at that, but Finrod raised a hand and the sound died. "Before we get to that, I wish to know what information was in these files which you were shown."

Now Farrell sat back in his chair and gave them a supercilious sneer. "As if you don’t already know," he said.

"Perhaps," Finrod retorted mildly, "but in the interest of having a full record for this court and for the benefit of others, why do you not tell us."

For a moment, Farrell stared at the Elf prince sitting calmly on his throne, then looked down at his lap. "I thought he was making it up or he was on something," he finally said. "Elves? What was that nonsense? But he insisted that they were real and that Ambrose Elwood was one of them. ‘The only one, as far as I know’ he said to me. When I asked him how he knew, he showed me a transcript of the conversation he had had with Elwood in which Elwood confessed to being an elf. In fact, he even played me the tape, for apparently my uncle was in the habit of taping conversations without bothering to tell people. He told me he used the tapes later to analyze the conversations, and as a memory aid, though I often wondered if he didn’t also use them for blackmail purposes, as he did with Elwood, when people confided in him."

"That tape must’ve been quite old by that time," Daeron interrupted. "How was it preserved after some fifty years?"

"I think he would periodically have it copied. I admit the sound quality wasn’t all that great, but the words were clear enough. There was no mistaking what was being said."

"And what was said?" Daeron asked.

Farrell shrugged, giving them a sneer. "Elwood went on about how he used to be a king. Yeah, right," he snorted, turning to give Amroth a leer. "Lost his kingdom and his sweetheart and spent umpteen centuries wandering about."

Artemus turned to look at Amroth, whose expression was unreadable, though his eyes glittered as if with unshed tears. Prince Legolas, sitting next to him, put his arm around Amroth’s shoulders and gave him a hug, whispering something in his ear.

"What happened next with your uncle?" Finrod asked.

Farrell turned back and gave him a searching look. "You don’t seem surprised or even skeptical about what I just said. Elves? C’mon. That’s fairytale stuff."

"And yet, you were convinced that it was true enough to threaten the one you know as Ambrose Elwood with exposure when you were taken into custody," Finrod replied.

"Yeah, well, I’m still not convinced about that part, but I am convinced about the rest," Farrell retorted.

"Then please tell us about the rest," Finrod commanded.

"I asked my uncle why he was showing me this stuff and why now. After all, he’d been sitting on this information for over fifty years, apparently never telling a soul, and now all of a sudden, he, not my controllers, but he recalls me from my assignment and tells me this deep, dark secret about one Ambrose Elwood."

"Did you know him?" Valandur asked.

Farrell shook his head. "No. Oh, I knew of him, for he was one of the best instructors the Agency had, but I never met him in the course of my work. Looking back, I realize that my uncle had purposely not introduced me to him. I had other instructors and then was immediately assigned to overseas work."

"So what did your uncle say?" Daeron asked.

"He told me he was merely hedging his bets. ‘If anything happens to me, I want someone I can trust to keep an eye on Elwood and make sure he toes the line. He’s too valuable to us to be allowed free.’ Those were his words. He showed me where he kept the files and the tape and then I left, returned to Washington and then went back to my listening post in Italy. Two months later, the alert goes out that Director Bradford was missing and all agents were to be on the lookout for him. He was never found. As soon as I heard, I returned to the States and went to where he had kept the files, but they were missing. For a long time, I was never sure if someone had stolen them or if he had taken them with him when he left for Geneva."

"And Ambrose Elwood?" Daeron asked.

"That was the first thing I did as soon as I saw that the files were missing, I checked up on Elwood, but he, too, was dead, or so everyone thought. I had no proof, but I always suspected that my uncle’s disappearance and the report of Elwood’s death occurring almost at the same time was not coincidence, that somehow Elwood was responsible for my uncle’s disappearance."

He turned again to glare at Amroth. "And then, one day fifteen years later, a bunch of photos showed up at the Agency and there was Elwood, large as life in one of them."

"How did you learn of the photos?" Maddy stood up, her expression angry. "Those photos came directly to me and I never showed them to anyone except Meriwether."

Farrell gave her a shrug. "Can’t answer that one, Deputy Director. All I know is that Director Dolan herself called me to her office and showed me Elwood’s photo, asked me if I was interested in hunting him down."

"And why you?" Valandur asked even as Maddy sat down, clearly upset.

"I told you that few in the Agency knew about Bradford being my uncle, but Jane Dolan was one."

"Yet, I do not see the connection," Finrod said. "Why did Director Dolan call you in? She must have known that Mr. Meriwether had been sent here to ascertain the truth of the matter. Why did she ask you to come here with the other agents, whom I must assume she also sent."

Farrell frowned. "I never thought about it," he admitted. "I saw Elwood’s photo and it was as if the intervening fifteen years never happened and I was back in Cape May hunting for those damn files all over again. Seeing that photo brought it all back to me and all I wanted was to go to Alaska and find out if Elwood truly was alive. Director Dolan, however, made it very clear that I was not to interfere with Meriwether’s assignment."

He gave a snort of disgust. "Yeah, right. As if I would just sit back and let Meriwether screw things up."

Artemus raised an eyebrow at that but refrained from speaking, casting an amused look at Derek, who merely shrugged. He turned to look at Amroth but the Elf refused to make eye contact and he finally turned his attention back to listen to what Farrell was saying.

"Anyway, once I got here and saw how things were, I was convinced that the person calling himself Ryan McKinley was indeed Ambrose Elwood, but I kept a low profile, keeping an eye on Meriwether to see what he would do."

"Wasn’t much of a low profile, seeing as how you accosted me and began pushing your weight around, pretending you were in charge," Artemus couldn’t help saying.

Farrell turned and snarled at him. "I was in charge, boy! Dolan’s orders superseded Washburn’s."

"Dolan had no right to send you without consulting me," Maddy exclaimed, jumping from her seat. "And those photos were under lock and key."

"Whatever," Farrell said with a diffident shrug. "The point is, I was here. These other agents were here and our orders were to make sure Elwood was silenced permanently."

"Wait a minute! That’s not what you told us."

Artemus looked to see Grieve jumping up, shrugging off the hands of the police officer who attempted to push him back down. "You told us that McKinley was an agent who’d gone missing and he needed to be brought back to Washington for debriefing. There was no mention of killing anyone. And why does no one speak about Finlay and the others who’ve gone missing? What really happened to them? Are they dead?"

"You never told them?" Artemus said, also standing. "You never showed them the photo that proved that they were alive? What did you tell them, Farrell?"

"He told us that Finlay and the others had been taken by the Elves," Armstrong said, giving them a snort of disbelief as he stood, his expression one of anger. "He told us that McKinley was a threat to the security of this country but he needed to be taken and questioned as to what he knew and who he might have spoken to."

"Which is why he planted a bomb under my car?" Amroth interjected with a cold smile on his face.

Armstrong, Grieve and Pegg all had puzzled looks on their faces. "Bomb?" Armstrong finally said. "What bomb? This whole affair has been screwy from the get go. I always thought Farrell had a personal agenda but could never figure it out, not until we were at the grotto and the way he treated Meriwether."

"And you did nothing to intervene, even going so far as to torture innocents?" Finrod asked.

To that none of the three agents had an answer, all three of them refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Armstrong and Grieve resumed their seats.

"I see," Finrod said, nodding, giving them a cool stare.

"So why did you not carry out those orders?" Glorfindel interjected, stepping forward a pace or two. "You had ample opportunity. Ryan was not hiding. Why the charade of being a member of the accreditation committee and then simply sit back and do nothing?"

"Because I decided killing Elwood myself was too easy," Farrell responded. "He deserved to suffer for what he did to my uncle."

"You have no proof of that," Glorfindel said. "You never located a body, did you? Well, did you?"

Farrell shook his head. "Doesn’t matter. I knew Elwood was responsible. The fact that he faked his death, the fact that all the evidence my uncle collected on him was missing, told me that he had to be responsible, that it wasn’t just an unhappy coincidence. Ambrose Elwood murdered Samuel Bradford, and nothing you do or say will convince me otherwise. And that’s why I decided Meriwether would have the pleasure of eliminating him. I wanted Elwood’s last thoughts to be the knowledge that he was betrayed by his own protégé."

"You speak of betrayal, Mark Farrell," Amroth said coldly, standing, "but you know nothing of what that means. I put my trust in a man whom I thought was a friend, someone who would ease the loneliness I had suffered for longer than you can imagine. That trust was betrayed and when the time came, Samuel Bradford paid for that betrayal."

"My Lord Amroth, please be silent," Finrod said.

Amroth, however, shook his head and left his seat, making his way to the stage. "No, my lord, I will not. I am tired of all this… this pettiness. I was essentially a prisoner of Samuel Bradford for fifty years, forced to do his bidding or suffer the consequences. He made the mistake of authorizing my going to Kuwait. It was the opportunity I had been waiting for and I took it. I arranged for my death and when I heard that Bradford had gone missing, I returned as quickly as I could to the States and stole the files and the tape and destroyed them. Then I disappeared."

"How did you even know where to look, unless Sam told you, and I don’t think he would be that foolish," Farrell demanded.

"And he wasn’t," Amroth replied with a thin smile, "but, as I said, I had fifty years in which I planned my escape and I was able to learn what I needed to know to ensure my safety."

Artemus sat there watching Amroth speak, admiring the smoothness of the lie, wondering how he could even dare with a Vala and a Maia standing right there, yet neither Námo nor Eönwë batted an eye. He noticed that even the Elves remained still, their expressions giving nothing away.

"I still think you were responsible for my uncle’s death," Farrell said. "Nothing you or anyone says to the contrary will convince me otherwise."

Amroth shrugged. "That, of course, is your privilege, but if we’re speaking of deaths, who murdered Robert Snyder and Burrill Ersck?"

"We had nothing to do with that." Pegg stood up, gesturing to Armstrong and Grieve. "That was Farrell’s doing."

Amroth turned to face the other three agents. "But you stood by and did nothing to save them, to convince Farrell to another course of action, one that did not involve taking another’s life."

All three agents looked chagrined, but Armstrong stood up and spoke. "We helped him to spring them out of jail, but that’s all. Once we got them to Farrell, he ordered us to go keep an eye on the Academy and on the mansion. When I asked him later what happened to the two criminals, he told me that he’d paid them off and sent them to Fairbanks. I had no reason to believe otherwise, until the bodies were found."

Now Judge Harrison stood. "As much as I enjoy a good confession, I would advise all interested parties to speak no further until you’ve obtained counsel. Regardless of what happens here, these four men will stand trial on charges of murder, kidnapping and torture, among other things, and it behooves us to respect their right to remain silent for their own sakes as well as for everyone else’s."

"And you are correct in so reminding us," Finrod said, giving the judge a gracious nod. "We are not interested in prosecuting anyone. This court has a different purpose, to lay to rest certain misapprehensions among you. Mr. Farrell believes he has shocking news to give us concerning the one he knows as Ambrose Elwood. He is convinced that the secret he carries will have a grave impact on us all, and in one respect, that may be true. Yet, only a handful of people in the hall are unaware of the truth, and those people are not of Wiseman."

He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before speaking again, looking at Farrell. "Your uncle was correct about Lord Amroth being an Elf, Mr. Farrell, but he was mistaken in his belief that Lord Amroth was the only one. Here in Wiseman, other Elves abide and more will come anon."

"More?" someone exclaimed in disbelief. "How many more of you godless Elves will we have to put up with?"

Artemus craned his neck to see the man Glorfindel had identified as Tom Peterson standing, looking affronted. There was a clamor of angry voices among the audience, many of them shouting at Peterson. Finrod stood and walked to the front of the stage. "SILENCE!" he shouted and the hall became quiet, though there was an undercurrent of unease that still rippled through it.

Finrod gave Peterson a cool stare. "You name us godless, which, by that, I must assume you mean ‘not believing in your particular version of god’. In that, you are mistaken, Mr. Peterson. We Elves have always known of the One Who created us all, Elves and Men and even Valar and Maiar. That we do not adhere to your particular beliefs or participate in your worship ceremonies does not make us godless." He pointed to Námo without even bothering to look his way. "Would you deny the existence of those whom you call angels and archangels when two of them stand before you?"

Artemus watched as Peterson glanced at Námo and then at Eönwë, who smiled and waggled his fingers irreverently at the Man. Námo rolled his eyes, though few noticed, since their attention was on the confrontation between Finrod and Peterson. Peterson licked his lips and looked less certain.

"It’s not natural," he finally said. "There’s nothing in the Bible about Elves."

"Perhaps because by the time the Bible was written, Tom, there were few Elves around and they had nothing to do with the people of Israel or their neighbors." An older man wearing a Roman collar stood, giving them a gentle smile. "And I don’t recall that the mythologies of the people in the Middle East spoke of Elves. That seems to be a northern concept, no doubt passed down from a time when your people dwelled in what we now call Europe." He gave a nod toward Finrod.

"But the Bible says…." Peterson began to protest, but the priest interrupted.

"The Bible says many things, Tom. It says slavery is acceptable but charging interest on a loan is not, yet we of a more enlightened age have banned slavery and I dare you to walk into the bank on Monday and ask Jake Chandler to give you an interest-free loan."

"Not likely," a man shouted out and there was much nervous laughter at that. The priest smiled and Peterson scowled.

"It is a dangerous thing to rely on a single source, whether it be Holy Scriptures or another person, for all the answers to the universe," the priest continued. "The evidence lies before you that Elves do indeed exist, that there are angels and archangels who are active in our world, inspiring us toward goodness, and apparently preparing us for the Final Battle, a battle we are told may never come in our own lifetime, but come it will and we need to prepare ourselves and our children and their children for the inevitable. It’s a grand adventure, Tom, one that apparently has God’s approval. Can you not accept that, you and those of you who feel as Tom does?"

"How do we really know they are from God, though?" a woman called out. "We’ve been warned against following after false prophets."

"And that warning still applies," Námo said, moving to stand beside Finrod. "Yet, I ask you, all of you, when have any of these Elves treated you with anything but courtesy and respect? Have any of them attempted to turn you from your beliefs or ridicule you in any way? Have they threatened you or attempted to lure your children from you? If they do not join in your worship, what of that? You all worship the One in different ways and generally respect the rights of others to choose the manner of their worship. Why can you not give these Elves the same courtesy? My children, the time for this pettiness between you must come to an end. Too much is at stake here. The future of your world and the outcome of the Final Battle depend on you, the people of Wiseman, and on these Elves who have been brought here by the One to teach you what you have forgotten."

"And what have we forgotten?" Peterson demanded.

"That you are all Eruhíni, Children of the One," Námo replied, "that you are all in this together, Mortals and Elves, that He Who is the creator of us all wishes for all his Children to live in harmony, each bringing with them their special gifts to enhance the lives of the other."

"What special gifts?" someone called out. "There’s nothing special about us. We’re just… us."

"In that you are mistaken," Finrod said. "Ever have you Secondborn been special in my eyes. Your grit and determination, your refusal to give up against all odds, your ability to pick up your lives and move on after disaster has struck, has always had my admiration. You have a depth of spirit that many of my people lack and which they need to learn. It was too easy for us, to Sail or fade or allow our fëar, our souls, to slip their bonds and flee to Mandos for a time. You never had those options. You either lived or you died and sometimes dying was not an option." He gave them a bright smile and some of his listeners smiled back.

"We need your strength of will," Finrod continued, "we need your can-do attitude. Since I came here I have been studying the history of your country and I stand in awe of all that you and your ancestors have accomplished, and those who choose to abide here in this harsh environment and thrive…. I do not think it was an accident that the Valar chose this place for what we would do here."

"No, it was not," Námo said. "The people of Wiseman and those in the surrounding communities are just what we need, what you Elves need. And, for the most part, we have been very pleased with what you have accomplished in this short a time. Oh, there have been upsets and there will be others, but what you are establishing here, my Children, through Elf Academy, and other ventures, is what your world will need when the time comes. You are our secret weapon."

"Not that much of a secret with government agents breathing down our backs," Peterson said, scowling at Farrell and Artemus.

"Ah, but we allowed them to come here for a very important reason," Námo said. "You will need allies who have the power to see things done and who have the skills necessary to safeguard you and your community. Remember, if we are preparing for the Final Battle, it stands to reason that the Enemy is doing the same."

There was an uneasy silence following that statement. Námo allowed it to continue for a few minutes before speaking again. "Well, you have much to consider and think on. In the meantime, be assured that we Valar are keeping a close watch on this situation here and elsewhere and our Maiar servants are ever vigilant."

With that he simply faded from view and Eönwë did as well. Many of the Mortals gasped in surprise at their sudden disappearance and it took a few minutes for Finrod to get their attention.

"I believe it is time to end this court," he said, then turned toward Farrell. "You and your cohorts must answer for what you have done here and We leave it to your own legal system to see justice done."

"That’s it?" Farrell exclaimed, standing. "What about Elwood? He killed my uncle and I want justice done for him. Whatever there was between them, Sam Bradford didn’t deserve to die at his hands."

"And I can certainly launch an investigation," Maddy said as she stood, "but without a body there’s no real proof of foul play or certainly no proof that Elwood was involved. Bradford’s been gone for fifteen years. He was legally declared dead eight years ago. His family has moved on. I think you should do the same, Mark. Let it go. It will do no one any good now. Accept the fact that your uncle died. How? Well, we’ll never know this side of Heaven."

"I grieve for your loss, Mr. Farrell," Finrod said sincerely, "but Deputy Director Washburn is correct. It is time to let go of the past. Your need for revenge has led you to cross a line no one should ever cross and you will have to pay for that. Do not let your desire for vengeance destroy you."

"’Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord, and I will repay,’" Glorfindel interjected. "You might want to keep that in mind."

Finrod nodded. "Then, I return you to the custody of your police, Mr. Farrell, and wish you and your men luck." Then he turned to face the audience. "As for you, good people of Wiseman, go and reflect on all you have heard this evening and decide for yourselves on whose side you intend to be, that of the Light or that of the Dark. Decide carefully, for if you choose to side with us, much will be asked of you and there is no guarantee that any of us will survive the coming storm. And if you choose to stand against us, then understand the consequences of that as well. The choice is entirely yours and yours alone."

He stood there in regal splendour, his eyes bright as he gazed across the hall, then he turned to Erestor with a nod. Erestor came forward, banging his staff on the floor. "This court is adjourned. Let all go in peace."

Finrod started down the steps with the others following. Several police officers under Michaelson’s orders swarmed the stage and took Farrell into custody. Glorfindel did not follow Finrod but went to where the witnesses were and invited Artemus, Derek and Zach to return to Edhellond with them.

"There are some things that need to be discussed and resolved," he said.

"We’ll be there," Artemus promised and Derek and Zach nodded in agreement. Glorfindel gabbled something in rapid Sindarin to the others before making his way through the milling crowd to where Artemus could see Valandur and Daeron speaking to Maddy and Sanderson. Maddy’s expression was not a happy one. Glorfindel reached them and said something and Maddy gave him a reluctant nod. Then she and Sanderson followed the three Elves to the anteroom where Finrod presumably was waiting for them.

The Elves began helping to put the chairs away alongside the people of Wiseman, many of whom greeted the Elves with shy smiles. Amroth touched Artemus’ arm to get his attention. "We’ll see you at the mansion," he said.

"Yeah. We’ll help out here first, though," Artemus suggested. "Derek, you want to grab a couple of chairs? Zach, here you go. Can you handle these with one arm?"

"Sure. No problem," Zach said as he took the chairs from Artemus.

Amroth nodded in approval then went to find his wife. Twenty minutes later, the chairs all put away and the stage cleared, people filed out of the hall. Artemus, Derek and Zach joined in the exodus, going to Artemus’ car. Once they were in and on their way, Derek spoke.

"That sure was an eye-opener."

"In more ways than one," Artemus said in agreement as he carefully maneuvered the car through the streets. Traffic was heavy with everyone leaving at the same time. "I hope this meeting at Edhellond won’t take too long. It’s getting late and I’m tired."

"It’ll take as long as it will take," Zach said philosophically.

To that, neither Artemus nor Derek had a reply.