Chapter 103
I WAS VERY careful to take my time and develop a rapport with Tom Owens.
He certainly wasn’t the normal sort of suspect I interviewed.
I was well aware that he was beyond smart in the areas of engineering and physics, but he was apparently clueless about the real world.
Made me think about my grandfather, Seamus, who often said, “God gave each of us gifts. Sometimes at the expense of other gifts.” Here was a living, breathing example of my grandfather’s gospel.
Privately, Maggie Chin and I made the decision to treat Owens a little differently than other suspects.
I would sit in the back seat behind Maggie with Owens on the passenger side beside me.
A pretty standard way to transport a prisoner in an unmarked car.
It also would allow me to look at him while we were talking and let him know I was engaged.
I released one of his cuffs and used his belt to hold his right hand behind his back. If he acted up and I couldn’t subdue him with only one of his arms, he deserved to escape. And I’d deserve to be fired. But I was confident neither of those things would happen.
After we got into the car and began the drive back to the city, I chatted to Owens about his background and education. He had an interest in our training as well. Especially Maggie Chin’s training in the Army and the ATF.
After a couple of questions about the ATF, Maggie turned her head and glanced back at Owens. “Forgive me for saying this, but it sounds like you’re trying to figure out a better way to make bombs.”
“Isn’t figuring out how to do things better what all of us should do all the time?”
“Somehow I don’t think that includes helping fellow criminals make bombs.”
Owens nodded. “Point taken. I can understand from your perspective why we would be considered criminals. But consider another perspective: If we manage to change people’s views on climate change and intrusive Big Tech, we might be considered heroes in the future.”
I appreciated Maggie’s restraint in not pointing out that that was crazy talk.
Owens said he was hungry, so we swung over to the drive-through at a Wendy’s.
I thought grabbing some food might go a long way toward keeping Owens cooperative.
We continued to chat, casually talking about things like college and all the varieties of bugs found near Millwood, where Owens’s cabin was located.
Maggie hit him with a few technical questions about the bombs themselves.
It was almost like he was showing off for her.
Owens explained how he’d use a combination of C-4 with a blasting cap and a coil of black powder wrapped around it.
He liked the interaction of different explosives.
He also liked to put on a show. That explained the glitter in the bomb that had destroyed the Office of Technology and Innovation.
It was easy to get him to talk. Owens said, “Ellis sort of ran things. Pry… he was the muscle. Ellis manipulated him.”
“Who else was in the group?” I noticed the long hesitation before answering.
“There was a girl who hung out with us for a while. She never did anything. She left on her own. I don’t remember her name.”
“What did she look like?”
Owens shrugged and said, “I don’t know. Just average, I guess.”
I didn’t know if Owens was so technologically inclined that he didn’t really notice other people. But the way he’d hesitated gave me pause. Then I touched on a few more serious issues. I asked, “What scares you about society right now?”
“My main focus used to be climate change,” Owens told me.
“Then I saw the way tech was growing and how people just accepted whatever terms they wanted to throw out to the public. My newest worry is about AI. Artificial intelligence is going to dictate the future. There’s so much to comprehend and regulate with AI.
So I figured we’d focus on easier problems first.”
“Okay. But I still don’t understand how your actions are related. I’m not sure what purpose your bombs served.”
“They were supposed to bring attention to all these issues. Ellis was supposed to write statements to send to the media. But he never wrote any. We argued about it all the time.”
I looked directly at Owens. “Can I ask you a sensitive question?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“How does killing a cop bring attention to your cause?”
“You mean the police sergeant they blew up in Queens?”
“Yes, that’s exactly who I’m talking about.” It was tough work keeping my voice calm. It was hard acting friendly with someone who’d aided and abetted the people who’d killed Sergeant Vega.
“They did that before I joined the group.” Owens shrugged. “As I understand it, Pry knew there was a police officer who lived in his mom’s neighborhood. He used to see the cruiser. So he and Ellis targeted her and planted the bomb. They did get big news coverage.”
“And destroyed a family.”
Owens said, “Climate change will destroy all families.”
We rode in silence for a few minutes.
Then Owens said, “You guys aren’t anything like Ellis and Pry said you were. They said cops were just the muscle for an oppressive government.”
“I’m guessing they had to believe shit like that to give their lives meaning.”
“That’s an interesting perspective. I’m not good with that kind of thinking.” He got quiet as we pulled into the lot in front of my office. As we came to a stop in front of the building, Owens said, “I thought you were going to put me in jail.”
“We’re gonna make a stop here first to switch cars, then I’ll take you for booking at an NYPD precinct. And get you to a holding facility.”
Owens asked, “How do we get to the precinct?”
“We’ll take my car. It’s right over there.” Owens slowly followed my extended finger and looked out the window at my car. He didn’t say anything else.