Chapter 6 - The Inspector
The Inspector General's investigation moved faster than any investigation Rosa had ever heard of.
Part of that was because there was so much evidence. Part of it was because Fallon had tried to flee, which made every subsequent allegation more credible. Part of it was because Ramsey had personally called the regional IG the night of the banquet and had said, in his flat, unhurried way, that he would like to see an investigation opened before the end of the fiscal quarter, and that he would like to see the results before the end of the calendar year, and that he would be personally tracking the progress of the investigation, and that if he had to call again, it would not be to ask.
Part of it was because the food had been going bad for eleven months, and the people who had eaten the food — soldiers, civilians, family members, retirees — had been going to the emergency room for eleven months, and nobody had put it together.
Rosa found out how many people had been affected.
The number was 217.
Two hundred and seventeen people on Fort Riley and the surrounding area had gone to a doctor or an emergency room with gastrointestinal symptoms between November and October, and the common thread was that every single one of them had eaten at the dining facility in the days preceding their illness. Two hundred and seventeen people, and the medics had diagnosed each one of them with "stomach bug" or "gastroenteritis" or "food poisoning, source unknown," because they had not been looking for a pattern.
Rosa had been looking for a pattern.
She had documented twenty-three discrepancies. The IG investigation found one hundred and forty.
The IG's report was 380 pages long. It was released to the installation commander in December and to the regional commanding general in January. It was summarized for the press in March, when the U.S. Attorney's office in Topeka announced that Gerald Voss and Curtis Blaine had been indicted on thirty-one counts of wire fraud, conspiracy to defraud the United States, and introducing adulterated food into interstate commerce.
Fallon was charged separately. His court-martial was set for August.
Rosa read the IG report from cover to cover.
She read it in her living room over the course of a week, with a cup of coffee that went cold beside her and a highlighter that she did not use because she did not want to mark up the copy the IG had sent her.
She read the section on the twenty-three discrepancies she had documented. She read the section on the banquet and the tray and the seal. She read the section on Mrs. Helen Pruitt.
The IG's report was clinical. It did not editorialize. It did not speculate. It said, in careful language, that "the substitution of the allergen-free plate intended for a guest with a documented shellfish allergy created a foreseeable risk of anaphylaxis, which in a person with a documented severe allergy carries a reasonable probability of death if not treated within minutes."
It said that "the officer in charge authorized the substitution in writing." It said that "the officer in charge was aware of the guest's allergy." It said that "the officer in charge was aware of the guest's identity as a Gold Star mother and the symbolic significance of her presence at the banquet."
Rosa put the report down.
She sat on her couch for a long time.
Then she called her daughter.
"Mom?" Elena's voice was worried. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay, honey. I'm just tired."
"You sound tired."
"I am tired." Rosa looked out the window at her garden, which was brown with autumn. "Elena, I need to tell you something."
"Okay."
"Do you remember when you were eleven and we went to the Memorial Day ceremony at the cemetery in Junction City?"
"Yeah. I asked you what a Gold Star mother was."
"You cried in the car on the way home."
"I remember."
"Elena, this fall, a woman was going to be at a dinner I was serving. She was a Gold Star mother. She was the guest of honor. And there was a chance — a real chance — that if I had done what I was told, she would have gotten sick. Very sick. Maybe worse."
Elena was silent.
"Did she get sick?" she asked.
"No. I didn't serve the food."
"Mom—"
"I need you to know something, honey. I need you to know that if you ever find yourself in a situation where doing the right thing is going to cost you your job, your career, your marriage, or anything else you care about — I want you to do the right thing anyway. I want you to do it because you are my daughter, and because I raised you to do it, and because if you don't do it, I will be very disappointed in you."
Elena laughed. It was a wet laugh, the kind that came with tears.
May you like
"Mom," she said. "Are you okay?"
"I am okay," Rosa said. "I am more okay than I have been in a long time."
