Chapter 24 #2
“You probably have heard of Greenpeace. Green World is a bit more…radical. Let’s just say we don’t always take legal measures to further our agenda,” Darla says with a conspiratorial laugh.
I think of them ushering polar bears out of a zoo after hours and can’t help but smile to myself.
“Do you want to take a seat?” Darla says, gesturing to two couches in the living room that would probably be described as in the style of an “old cat lady” by anyone millennial or younger. They aren’t quite what I imagine Darla’s aesthetic to be. We walk through and sit.
“And the Green World people, do you have their contact information?” I ask. It’s a big ask. Darla would be potentially ratting on people she is friends with, or at the very least, inviting our meddling presence in their lives.
“Um. Yeah. You have to promise they won’t know this info came from me.
Given our not-exactly-legal nature of things, they’re pretty private.
I love the Green World people like family, but if there’s a possibility that they did this to my brother, I’d probably wanna kill them with my bare hands,” Darla says, anger and sadness etched on her face.
I know how she is feeling—probably better than anyone—and had I not been here for an investigation in which I am the accused, I would comfort her.
I would tell her that she will feel angry for a long time because death at a young age is just unfair.
She will always feel sad. It will come in waves that hit her at unexpected times.
In the grocery store, late at night, early in the morning.
I would also tell her that one day, she will be able to live her life, maybe not as it was, but that she will find small moments of joy.
She’ll eat some delicious dosa from the cart in Washington Square Park or laugh at the man feeding the pigeons in Tompkins Square.
I’d tell her not to feel guilty about feeling content or even elated when good things come her way.
Her brother loved her, and he’d want her to be happy.
Instead, I say, “Of course, we won’t tell the Green World people where we got their contact information from.”
“They may not even know I’m staying here.
It’s my parents’ house. Certainly wouldn’t decorate it like this,” she says, rolling her eyes and gesturing to a set of watercolor sunsets and Bible verses that are framed.
I think I even spot some Beanie Babies in the corner, still in individual plastic boxes as if they may be worth something very soon.
“Staten Island has barely any green points, so it’s not okay for us to live here.
The bonus is that it makes it a great hiding place. ”
“Green points?” Amaya inquires.
Hiding place? To me this seems to be the more intriguing question.
“Yeah, it’s a system within the organization where we rank everything with points.
The more points, the better it is. We support those high-point-ranking places, and we boycott and seek to destroy the others.
For example, has a low point value. They use a ton of plastic, are bad about using recycled materials, their factories pollute.
I mean, I could go on and on. They’re terrible for the environment.
A place like REI has a better point value. ”
“That’s intense,” Amaya mutters. I think about how expensive it must be to achieve this level of environmental sustainability. I want to save the environment but am also aware that I probably can’t afford any of the places with the most green points.
“You don’t even know the half of it. The same points go for restaurants, shopping, grocery stores.
It’s a little…I hate saying this—cultish.
” I wonder if they all wear purple caftans and chant positive affirmations.
“It wasn’t always like this though. It was just a dedicated environmental organization at the beginning, with really good people.
But, lately, it’s gotten extreme. I’ve, uh, moved a bit away from that thought process myself, and so did my brother.
My brother believed instead of boycotting and destroying businesses that were not as environmentally savvy, we could make them better, show them how to make their businesses more sustainable.
My brother would have done so much good,” Darla says, her fists clenched.
Her sadness seems to have turned to anger at the thought of her brother gone too soon.
“Which is why he worked for New Frontier,” I say, thinking out loud. Besides, unless James and his sister were independently wealthy, and this house decor suggests they were not, he would have had to work for a living.
“Yes. It’s still a corporate business. Based in Midtown, housed in a building with a C energy rating.
It is everything Green World has rallied against, even though it’s trying to make the world a better place.
My brother was trying to do good. In fact, it’s my brother who encouraged me to work at Catalyst.”
“The plastics company?” I question aloud. Seems like a departure for someone so committed to the environment, but sometimes we take less desirable jobs to make a living. Wasn’t New Frontier also working with Catalyst?
“Yeah, that’s what I said when my brother first suggested it.
Like over my dead body.” She pauses, realizing what’s she said.
“Um…I mean, I didn’t want to work there, but James was so sure we could try to change these companies from the inside.
Once I told the Green World people what I was up to, well, they were pissed.
They said there was no changing such toxic places, and anything I would do would be pointless and I’d be complicit. ”
“Is there a possibility that people from Green World could have murdered him?” Amaya asks.
They may be a radical organization, but murder seems to be a step too far.
I can’t imagine they would want to hurt their own, even if they felt betrayed.
These people are meant to be fighting for a better world, not killing those doing something about it via their business—even if it is a corporate one.
“They get angry. And they’re not afraid to break the law.
I hope they didn’t hurt him. Truthfully I don’t know.
I’ve distanced myself now.” Darla reads a number and address off her phone.
“That’s Charlie Hall. James’s former best friend and head of Green World.
He definitely hated James by the end. It’s sad.
They were so close. I don’t think he’ll even come to his funeral. ”
“Did the police ask you about this?” Amaya asks.
“They didn’t even come to talk to me. I called the detective, and they said they had the person who did it.
They didn’t need to waste valuable resources.
” Darla snorts. It confirms what I’ve known all along.
The police are certain I’m guilty, and if we need other evidence, Amaya and I will have to find it ourselves.
Maybe we just did. Another lead, after a seemingly dead end, and this one feels promising.
“Is there any other person that you think would want harm to come to your brother?”
“Well, if I’m going to be honest, maybe me.”
Amaya and I exchange another glance and both look to the front door. Women are always looking for an escape route in precarious and dangerous circumstances.
“Look, I would never hurt my brother, but I guess in full transparency, I’m set to inherit about ten million dollars’ worth of stock when his company, New Frontier, goes public next year,” Darla says as she puts out the blunt.