“You know how critical people are,” Trader reminded him. “But I totally agree with you, Governor. French wines are much better, and you deserve them. However, someone will say something and no doubt it will be widely publicized and costly to your reputation. Which brings me back to Trooper Truth. This article is only the beginning. We have a loose cannon on our hands and somehow must stop whoever it is or at least have some say-so about it.”
The governor could have done without the cannon reference, too, as he slowly made out words and scarcely listened to his press secretary, who was a meddler and an irritation. Crimm was not clear on why he had ever hired Major Trader or even if he had. But Trader certainly wasn’t Crimm’s cup of tea, at least not anymore, assuming he ever was. The press secretary was a fat slob who was far more interested in big meals, big stories, and big talk than he was in being honest about anything. The only good thing about Crimm’s failing eyesight was he could scarcely see people like Trader at all anymore, even when he was in the same room with them, and thank God for small favors, because the sight of Trader with his fleshy jowls, ill-fitting suits, and long, greasy strands of hair combed over his bald pate was increasingly repulsive.
“… objects in the mirror are closer than they appear” the governor slowly read out loud as he peered through the magnifying glass. “So The Past rides our bumper along life’s highways and may even be inside the car with MS …” He glanced up and gave Trader a huge eye. “Hmmm, now that’s an interesting thing to consider.”
“I have no idea what it means, if anything.” Trader was irritated that the governor would consider anything beyond what he, the press secretary, recommended.
“It’s like a riddle,” the governor went on, intrigued, moving the magnifying glass over the essay as if he were reading a Ouija board. “You remember the Riddler in Batman? All of these little riddles hinting at where, when, and how the Riddler was going to strike next, but Batman and Robin had to decipher the riddle first, of course. This Trooper Truth fellow is giving us a clue about something, about what he’s going to do next or maybe about what / ought to do next. Something about life’s highways.”
“Speaking of that. . .” Trader seized the opportunity to move on to a subject that he might be able to control. “Speeding continues to be a serious problem, Governor, and it’s occurring to me that if we emphasize speeding to the voting public, we can divert any unwanted attention away from pirates.”
“Speeding on life’s highways. Maybe that’s what he’s getting at. Maybe that’s the riddle,” the governor said, fascinated by his own deductions. “But I wasn’t aware that speeding had gotten worse.”
It hadn’t. But Trader wanted to tug the governor’s attention away from riddles. Crimm was known to make inane, inappropriate statements about whatever his latest whim, curiosity, or observation was, and it would not be good at all should he indicate that a riddle or the Riddler was influencing his executive decisions.
“Citizens are complaining that they’re forced to exceed the speed limit even in the slow traffic lane because of aggressive motorists riding their bumpers and flashing their headlights,” Trader spun his latest fabrication. “And we can’t have state troopers every other mile waiting with radar guns. Not to mention, there are escalating incidents of road rage because of these jerks who want to go ninety miles an hour and don’t care who they cut in front of.”
“People aren’t scared enough. That’s the problem.” The governor was halfway listening as he began to decipher what Trooper Truth had to say about DNA. “You know, he’s right about trusting technology instead of human beings. Maybe we can figure out a way to make the public believe we have some new advanced technology that will catch them speeding even if there’s not a trooper in sight.”
The governor suddenly began to believe with religious conviction that this was the riddle Trooper Truth was hinting at. It was damn time to scare the public into behaving! Detectives and district attorneys did it daily by threatening suspects with DNA even if there was no