Access to Power (21 page)

Linda shuddered.

“I’m just thinking out loud,” he said. “But what kind of a person would commit murder to cover up something that isn’t even a crime? Sex isn’t a crime yet, is it?”

“You’ve gotta drop Merdock, hold a press conference, and get out.”

“And say what, Linda? My clients murdered four people. We disagree on the fundamental issues in this race, so I’ve decided to bow out?”

“You’ve gotta get out.”

“It’s too late and you know it,” he said. “If I quit, Merdock wins. Even if I coast he wins. Either way, Mel Merdock ends up a senator and I’m the one who got him there.”

She took a step closer. “What are you gonna do?”

He didn’t say anything, holding her gaze. A moment passed. It looked like she was putting it together.

“Are you out of your mind?” she said finally.

Frank dropped his cigarette and stepped on it. “I don’t think so.”

She took his arm. Her worry looked more like terror now.

“Frank, you can’t sabotage this race.”

“Why not?”

“Because these people are dangerous. They’re insane. Crazy.”

“If I’m careful, they’ll never find out. They’ll never even know it’s happening.”

“How are you gonna keep it a secret? What if they
do
find out?”

Frank shook his head. “I don’t see a lot of choices here, Linda.”

“But there isn’t enough time. Look what they’ve done.”

Headlights were turning into the drive, three cars making a fast approach through the grove of pine trees. Randolph stepped out of the trailer, ignoring the cars and handing Grimes the cell phone. The detective looked angry and didn’t stop until he was in Frank’s face, spitting his words out over the numbing drone of the generator.

“What’s RAVE?” he asked.

The question was out of left field. It threw Frank off and he froze.

Randolph met his eyes. “I just spoke with Olson’s wife. That’s what he was all jacked up about. She remembers now. Something called RAVE.”

Frank glanced back at Linda. RAVE was the special interest group that had forced its way into the Merdock/Kay race. They had seen RAVE’s TV spot together a few weeks ago and laughed at it.

Randolph moved even closer. “And your client says he was at a fund-raiser all night. He’s got an alibi.”

“He’s lying,” Frank said. “Merdock’s using his own cash. He’s never held a fund-raiser.”

“The man’s running for the U.S. Senate,” Randolph shouted in frustration. “You’re asking me to interfere in an election. We need a better motive than some rich guy killing four people for a roll of sex shots, Frank.”

Randolph hit the hood of his car with a closed fist. Everyone flinched except Frank, who stood motionless. He could see the dent in the hood as Randolph stepped away and turned to the cars pulling to a stop beneath the trees. Ten men in suits jumped out, marching toward them through the glare of headlights. Frank recognized the U.S. Attorney leading the way. He was tall, stern-looking, about fifty and wearing a long overcoat. When Frank turned, he noticed Randolph grinding his teeth. Grimes stood beside his partner like a bodyguard ready to take a head shot.

“Looks like the U.S. Attorney’s met the Merdocks,” Grimes whispered under his breath.

The U.S. Attorney finally reached them, his hooded eyes lingering on Frank. Then a nondescript man in a suit pointed out Randolph. The U.S. Attorney flashed a bogus smile and offered his hand. If the smell of ether had a face, this was it.

“My name is Randal Wright, Lieutenant. What are these people doing at my crime scene? Give them a ride home. We’ll take it from here.”

Randolph didn’t say anything. Frank checked his pocket for his cigarettes. When he found the pack empty, he crumpled it up.

Chapter 49

Raymond hid in the tall field grass overlooking Olson’s trailer a hundred yards off. He had Olson’s night-vision goggles strapped to his head and had seen the cavalry arrive. Now Frank and Linda were getting into a car with those two detectives and driving off. The U.S. Attorney was in charge, and no one looked very pleased.

Raymond yawned. It had been a long night and he wanted to get back to the Iwo Jima and take his vitamin C. Maybe a couple of aspirin before he got some sleep. His wrists ached. When the gun went off in Olson’s mouth, he hadn’t quite released his grip and the .45 kicked back on him. If the pain got any worse, he might need to see a doctor.

He stood up, brushing himself off in the darkness. As he walked over to his car, it occurred to him that he might be a candidate for Lyme disease. He’d been lying in the grass for the better part of an hour and seen deer freely roaming the field in spite of his presence. A hot shower and a body check for tick bites was the smart way to go. He couldn’t afford the down time.

Raymond listened to the generator that the police were using and guessed that the sound reached a mile or so into the woods. He started his car and pulled forward slowly, cresting the hill until he spotted the break in the barbed-wire fence on the other side. Navigating in the darkness, he was amazed by how well Olson’s night-vision goggles worked. It was a negative world that he saw through the windshield with everything flowing in reverse. The sky was jet-black, the field grass a throbbing electric white. Still, the night was as bright as daylight. As he passed through the fence and pulled onto the dirt road, he wondered how long he could make it last. How close to the city he could get before it became necessary to switch on his headlights.

The dirt road had taken a beating with the last rain. Raymond could see the deep gully on the left with perfect clarity. When he reached a two-lane road that was paved, he noticed the lights from an approaching car and waited until they passed.

It was them. The two detectives with Frank and his partner sitting in the backseat.

Raymond could see them clearly and a certain thrill coursed through his veins as he realized that he hadn’t been spotted in the darkness. He pulled onto the road, closing the distance between them as fast as he could. When he was close enough to read their license plate, he backed off a car length or two, gliding in their wake and cackling with the windows closed.

Chapter 50

They were in the media room, searching through stacks of video cassettes for that idiotic RAVE spot at 3:00 a.m. Linda found it in a pile on the floor and pushed the tape into the VCR. Frank grabbed the remote and hit REWIND.

Olson was dead. And Randolph and Grimes had been undercut by the U.S. Attorney, a man with political ambition who chased headlines. Frank guessed that the kind of headlines the U.S. Attorney sought didn’t include interfering with an election. Either he’d take the easy way out and sign off on Olson’s death as a suicide. Or he’d follow the trail to Frank’s client moving slower than Randolph and Grimes had. Without evidence implicating Merdock directly to the murders, the investigation would take into account Merdock’s sizable fortune and his ability to defend himself with a high-paid staff of attorneys. As a result, Frank thought it safe to assume that the investigation would be put off until after the election and that he’d be on his own for a while. Even worse, once Merdock won the election, and Frank knew with certainty that he would, his client would be protected by the power of his office. Mel Merdock would be a United States Senator. Getting to him after election day would be even more difficult than it was now.

Linda sat down at the table. The VCR clicked and Frank scanned through the head of the tape ignoring the snow on the TV screen. Before his murder, Olson had told his wife that he was excited about something in politics called RAVE. Frank remembered reading in
The Post
that Olson had been arrested at the airport after making a short trip to Atlanta. RAVE had offices in Washington and Atlanta.

The spot faded up. Frank remembered the ad and grimaced. That ridiculous TV wife was making dinner at the stove in a dress and jewelry while her asinine TV husband read the newspaper and ignored their child. The crucifix was placed on the wall behind them, screen right so that it couldn’t be missed.

“I was talking to Jane today,” the wife was saying, “and I forgot why we’re not voting for Lou Kay.”

The husband lowered his paper and looked at his wife as if she was ignorant. “We’re not voting for Lou Kay because he’s bad, honey.”

“But
why
is he bad?”

The husband chuckled. “Lou Kay doesn’t share our values.”

“He doesn’t share our values,” she repeated girlishly.

“You tell Jane that’s all she needs to know. I’ll talk to Dick on Sunday.”

The wife nodded, smiling like an obedient dog. Then the voice-over faded up as church bells rang.

“Paid for by the Committee for the Restoration of American Values and Ethics,” the announcer said.

Frank picked up the remote and hit STOP, thinking it over.

“If you look at it one way, it’s crazy,” Linda said. “If you look at it another...”

“They’ve reversed the issues,” he said. “If you watch TV the way most people do, you’ll think Merdock stands for what Lou Kay does.”

He hadn’t noticed it before and it shook him up. The spot was more than just a twisted vision of the past. The message had been simplified to the point of poetry and worked like a stealth bomber. He had no doubt that it was only running in the most conservative districts of Virginia. The spot never brought up issues or details. It didn’t need to, nor would it have wanted to. Instead it got right to the heart of what every political ad tries to do with only thirty seconds; Lou Kay is the bad guy, it said, and Mel Merdock is good. The warped setting, along with the actors and that crucifix in the background, carried the entire payload. It was a work of near genius, designed to mislead its audience. However misguided, Frank realized that it was well done.

He started pacing. Linda had seen it, too.

“Do you really think the Merdocks are capable of this kind of sophistication?” she asked.

“No. They don’t have the experience. We’ve missed something.”

“Missed what?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Let’s get out of here.”

He started for the door, then turned back. He could see it in her face, the sight of Olson’s dead body still haunting her.

“Jason’s in L.A.” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m not sure I can be alone tonight.”

*          *          *

It was a dead sleep, entirely dreamless. The kind of sleep that seems too short and provides no answers. No rest. Frank woke up with his eyes fixed on the clock radio. Only fifteen minutes had passed since the last time he checked. He rolled over on his back. Sleep wasn’t going to happen tonight.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Olson. The man had stumbled onto something about RAVE that he called
exciting
. That was the word his wife had used. It had even been worth the price of a plane ticket, and from what Frank had seen, Olson didn’t have much money to spare.

He reached for the bottle of spring water beside the telephone, his eyes drifting out the window at the rain. Trash bags were stacked along the sidewalks and he could see a stray dog sniffing the pile before his house. After a few moments, the dog ripped through the bag on top, pulling discarded food out and eating it in quick bites. When the light from a passing car glanced the sidewalk, Frank noticed the animal’s tail and realized that he’d been watching a rat.

He shook it off, trying not to think about what was happening to the city. The changes occurred in slow increments, masking the decline for many of the city’s inhabitants. But Frank’s clients often remarked about it after winning an election and facing the prospect of moving here. They found the water supply undrinkable, trash pickup reduced to once a month, then adjusted to once every two weeks, potholes the size of shallow graves, crime out of control, the public schools failing, housing values falling by almost half in the last six years. If you removed the monuments and government buildings, what remained was a third world city.

The bedroom door opened and Buddha hopped on the bed, wagging his tail and circling until he found a place to lie down. Frank turned to the door and saw Linda standing in the hall in a T-shirt and boxer shorts.

“You asleep?” she whispered.

“Uh-uh.”

A moment passed. It looked like she was thinking something over.

“Are you gonna say anything to the police about RAVE?” she asked finally.

“I don’t know.”

“Why do you think they took our fingerprints, Frank? The real reason, I mean.”

“I don’t know that either.”

She stepped into the room, crossing to the window and staring out at the rain. He sat up, trying to ignore her bare legs and feet, her tangled hair. He noticed her eyes, tossing and turning. Something was eating at her just below the surface.