Chapter 177: Bones: I Have Hormones That Need Balancing
"Dr. Wolfe, is there anything else you'd like to advise us on?"
Francis forced a smile. "If not, we need to go cast our votes."
"Yes,"
Chuck nodded. "Everywhere we go, we leave a trace."
At this point, he looked at Senator Bethlehem's male assistant. "Mr. Thompson, you're Coriole Eller's boyfriend, aren't you?"
"Of course,"
the male assistant said reluctantly.
"Senator Bethlehem is the senator, and you're just an assistant. There's a reason for that."
Chuck looked at him expressionlessly. "You're not professional enough."
"I'm working on it."
Facing Chuck's piercing gaze, especially with his boss's thoughtful and surprised expression, the male assistant forced a smile.
"Looking forward to our next meeting,"
Chuck said, turning and leaving the Capitol.
"This guy is so arrogant."
Senator Bethlehem chewed his gum, watching Chuck's retreating back. He said to Francis, "You're the Whip, in charge of the party caucus, and you're just going to let this guy who's targeting our interests walk away?"
"Genius is always proud, and he has plenty of room for arrogance."
Francis also watched Chuck's departure. "He's right. As long as we don't foolishly incriminate ourselves, he'll never become a Senator Hunter, right?"
At this point, he looked back at Senator Bethlehem meaningfully.
"Francis, you know me."
Senator Bethlehem understood Francis's meaning and shrugged to prove his innocence.
As the party caucus Whip, Francis's responsibility was to understand his colleagues' situations and ensure the party's will was carried out.
"That's fine then."
Francis smiled and walked inside with Senator Bethlehem. After a few steps, he turned around and looked at the male assistant who was secretly wiping his sweat, saying with a meaningful smile: "Mr. Thompson, aren't you coming? As an assistant, the most important thing is knowing who to follow closely, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir!"
The male assistant, moved by Francis's penetrating gaze, quickly lowered his head and followed.
Chuck left the Capitol and got in the car. Colonel Ted Eller, who was waiting inside, asked anxiously: "How did it go?"
"I'm not sure whether Senator Bethlehem was involved, but his male assistant Thompson is definitely connected to your daughter's disappearance."
Chuck expressed his judgment.
"Thompson?"
Colonel Ted Eller was stunned. "He's Coriole's boyfriend. They've always had a great relationship. How could it be him?"
"Are you sure they have a good relationship?"
Chuck glanced at Colonel Ted Eller. "First of all, there have been rumors for two years that Coriole Eller and Senator Bethlehem are having an affair. Where there's smoke, there's fire. Senator Bethlehem is a known sleazeball. The possibility is very high.
And in this case, Thompson is Senator Bethlehem's assistant and Coriole's boyfriend. Can he really not mind? What does that tell you?"
"It tells me the rumors are false."
Colonel Ted Eller reflexively expressed his preconceived notion. "Coriole isn't that kind of person. No man could tolerate that situation."
"Normal men couldn't handle it,"
Chuck shook his head. "But the people in this building aren't normal. They're politicians, or aspiring politicians. Negotiating, compromising, and maximizing their profits—that's their ultimate goal.
As long as their careers keep advancing, being cuckolded is just part of the price of success. They can completely rationalize it away.
In fact, in that circle, this kind of thing is commonplace. There are far more twisted situations than this. Don't tell me you're completely clueless.
I know you don't want to think negatively about your daughter.
But is it possible that Coriole, who grew up without you, chose to enter that world and, while having a boyfriend, had an affair with their shared boss right under his nose?"
"No!"
Ted Eller denied it immediately, but then his expression turned painful. Although this was the last thing he wanted to consider, rationally speaking, it was possible.
He was, after all, a colonel in the US Army. Even if his rank didn't reach the very top of the social hierarchy, he still had some understanding of that world.
He knew Chuck was right. Without even mentioning other cases, Chuck's previous investigation involving a female senator and a congressman's father who shared a female assistant challenged ordinary ethics and morals even more than this possibility.
"That's perfectly normal,"
Chuck said bluntly. "Women who grew up without fathers generally have a special affinity for older, more mature men, and they prioritize mature and stable partners. Psychologically, it's a classic case of seeking a father figure.
Add to that their natural attraction to power, and the fact that this powerful man is a known womanizer, and the rumor is over 90% likely to be true."
"So it was Thompson who did it?"
Colonel Ted Eller, unable to bear this 'normal' talk any longer, gritted his teeth and interrupted. "But why? Didn't you say this kind of thing is insignificant to them?"
"It is insignificant to them, but only if the expectation of future advancement can offset the social disapproval,"
Chuck explained. "But what if that expected advancement is disrupted?"
"What do you mean?"
Colonel Ted Eller was confused.
"Simply put, can Thompson get promoted?"
Chuck said. "He and Coriole are both assistants to Senator Bethlehem. There's inherent competition for advancement. If Coriole takes a shortcut, it squeezes him out. While he might have been willing to look the other way initially, I just observed that Senator Bethlehem might want to have his cake and eat it too, but he doesn't have the resolve to commit fully to one path."
"So this bastard went after my daughter just for a promotion..."
Colonel Ted Eller didn't want to hear the detailed explanation, only the conclusion.
"Not necessarily,"
Chuck shook his head. "It could also be that he was trying to keep his current position. His power and future depend on Senator Bethlehem. If Bethlehem faced a scandal and stepped down, all the dignity Thompson sacrificed, the hardships he endured, and the capital he accumulated would be wasted.
While he could start over, not only would following the same path under a new boss be uncomfortable, but whether others would even accept him would be a huge problem. After all, Senator Bethlehem's mark is so heavy on him that earning anyone else's trust would be difficult."
"What scandal?"
Ted Eller felt a headache coming on.
"There are too many possibilities,"
Chuck said. "For example, she was pressuring Senator Bethlehem for a promotion or threatening to sue him for sexual harassment. Or she wanted to become the Senator's new wife. Or she was pregnant with Senator Bethlehem's child..."
"..."
Ted Eller remained speechless, listening to Chuck's detailed analysis. Finally, his face filled with sorrowful self-blame, he murmured, "I should have spent more time with her. It's my fault as a father..."
Whatever the reason, it was most likely that his daughter Coriole had made poor choices and gone down the wrong path.
If anyone else had dared to say that about his daughter, he would have lashed out. But Chuck was his old commanding officer's son, practically his nephew, family. Chuck had so many accomplishments, and his analysis was so rational it was undeniable.
So ultimately, it was his fault as a father.
"Don't overthink it,"
Chuck said bluntly. "The social environment is what it is. Even if you'd spent more time with her, it wouldn't necessarily have made things better."
In this world, even prominent prosecutors' daughters could end up in dangerous situations despite having every advantage. Smart, educated women from good families still found themselves targeted by predators. Wealthy heiresses got abducted. College students got caught up in criminal conspiracies just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Given the prevailing social climate, even if Colonel Ted Eller could travel back in time and spend more time with his daughter, changing her perspective and leading her on a different path, she'd still risk being targeted by corrupt officials, criminal organizations, or wealthy predators with no accountability.
Even if they managed to avoid all of that and marry successfully, they still had to face the possibility of husbands addicted to gambling, drugs, or alcohol—and that's not even counting the possibility of being randomly chosen by a serial killer.
Human power is limited, and a powerful father isn't enough to deter those with bad intentions. After all, American society breeds plenty of evil people.
Forget Ted Eller being just a colonel. Even if Chuck's biological father was a general, what difference would it make?
Bullying would still happen.
Chuck is still vulnerable as the son!
His sister would be even more vulnerable as the daughter.
Therefore, Chuck isn't particularly moved by Ted Eller's self-blame.
In his view, only self-reliance truly protects you. This is why he indulges his sister Haley, who seems abnormal to ordinary people, and why he gives extra help to Justine, whose drive for self-reliance is so extreme it seems a bit abnormal to others.
In this chaotic world, not having to experience the pain of being oppressed by various predators, being able to protect yourself and live according to your own wishes—that makes abnormality a form of normality.
"What do we do now?"
Colonel Ted Eller, completely dejected after hearing Chuck's words, felt an unprecedented sense of powerlessness wash over him.
"Investigate Thompson thoroughly,"
Chuck said. "I'm just a consultant detective, not a law enforcement officer. We need to find the agent in charge of this case and have them coordinate."
"Okay!"
Colonel Ted Eller nodded. "The previous agent in charge was Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI DC Major Crimes Unit, and a retired Army Ranger. He's trustworthy."
"Trustworthy or not is irrelevant,"
Chuck said bluntly. "All I need is a legal process."
Jeffersonian Institution Museum of Natural History
"Dr. Goodman, I really wish you wouldn't just loan me out to the FBI like this!"
Dr. Bones protested, following a middle-aged African American man.
She had always been dissatisfied with the FBI's practice of calling them in when needed and dismissing them when not, and had always sought full participation in cases.
Now, with the "heroic rescue" incident at the airport, she was even more resentful of Agent Booth, the FBI agent who had orchestrated it all.
Unfortunately, after clearly declining, she returned to her workplace only to be informed that their director, Dr. Goodman, had already agreed to Agent Booth's request and loaned her to the FBI for one day—without her consent.
"The federal funding system requires us to seize every opportunity to demonstrate our value to our friends in Congress. Loaning you out seems appropriate, especially to a federal agency,"
explained Dr. Goodman, director of the Jeffersonian Institution's Museum of Natural History.
"Loaning implies property, Dr. Goodman,"
Dr. Bones retorted. "The FBI never respects property."
"I never consider you property. You are one of the Jeffersonian Institution's most valuable assets,"
Dr. Goodman smiled.
"Assets are defined as property,"
Dr. Bones corrected. "Dr. Goodman, if you do this, the FBI will never learn to respect scientists like us. We're not inferior to them. In fact, we're far superior. We can solve difficult cases they can't, using methods they can't understand. They don't want to use their brains, and even if they wanted to, they don't have the capacity. But they're unwilling to admit it. They look down on us and mock us as 'squints.' They use this insulting nickname to dismiss us—highly intelligent individuals with rigorous logical reasoning skills."
"Dr. Brennan, you're being too sensitive."
Dr. Goodman frowned. "And like I said, the Jeffersonian needs sufficient funding to operate, and we must prove our worth!"
"Am I really being too sensitive?"
Dr. Bones looked at the curator. "You're also a scientist—you judge for yourself. As for proving our worth, that's what we should do, but there's no need to use such undignified methods!"
"I'm listening."
Dr. Goodman looked at Dr. Bones, who seemed to have an idea.
As a fellow scientist, he genuinely disliked being discriminated against and labeled a "squint." It's just that he was no longer a pure scientist, so he had developed some tolerance for such things.
Academic administrators are still administrators, and they need to compromise.
"There's always been a perfect example,"
Dr. Bones said. "Dr. Chuck Wolfe! He's a top scientist and now a master detective. No one ever attributes the cases he handles to the FBI; everyone knows he's the most valuable contributor."
"But there's only one Dr. Wolfe."
Dr. Goodman was somewhat tempted, yet he looked at Dr. Bones hesitantly. "No disrespect, but I don't think you can reach his level."
"I know."
Dr. Bones didn't get angry but nodded in agreement. "I can't quite reach Dr. Wolfe's level, but I have my strengths. I'm the foremost expert in identifying skeletal remains, and I've written books that help promote our often-overlooked profession. If I encounter a major case, I could definitely invite Dr. Wolfe to join the investigation. In that scenario, the FBI would simply assist, and we'd be the true leaders. Isn't that far more dignified and valuable than being bossed around by the FBI?"
"Interesting."
Dr. Goodman's eyes lit up.
He only cared about proving the Jeffersonian Institution's value, not the methods. If it offered greater dignity, who would refuse?
"But can you persuade Dr. Wolfe?"
Dr. Goodman looked at Dr. Bones expectantly.
"I can give it a try."
Dr. Bones thought about what her best friend Angela had said to her at the airport. After breaking up with her ex-boyfriend Pete, she'd spent several months among countless corpses in Guatemalan mass graves. Angela said she had hormones that needed balancing.
(End of Chapter)
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