Dark Ambition (12 page)

"When Robert had been in London two weeks earlier, for a meeting with the Chinese foreign minister, he used a woman in London named Peg Barton to arrange an evening for him with two prostitutes, together in bed at the same time. The Chinese knew about this. They had the whole thing on video. Liu gave Robert a copy of the video, and told him that they had another copy. He also told Robert that they knew he hired prostitutes in many other places as well. Then very smoothly Liu turned to the decision on arms for Taiwan. He gave Robert a choice. Robert had thirty days to change his position on the arms sale or resign as secretary of state. Either way, the video would be forgotten. But if he didn't do either by December the first, then Beijing would act in a manner that 'would embarrass' Robert personally. Those were the ambassador's words. To me, it meant they would go public with the video."

Jennifer let out a low involuntary whistle.

"Yeah, that is a mouthful. Isn't it?"

"So what'd you do?"

"Well, the next day I found the video in one of Robert's desk drawers. I played it, which made me slightly ill. I mean, I'm not exactly a prude when it comes to sex, but Jesus, the three of them were doing about everything you could imagine. Well, anyhow, I made copies of both the video and the audiotape, opened a new safe-deposit box at Bank of America across from the treasury, and locked them inside. I returned the video to Robert's desk, and that night I confronted him."

"How'd he respond?"

"As you might imagine, he was plenty pissed that I'd recorded his conversation with Liu. I told him that I wanted a divorce without a penny of his money. If I didn't get it, I would leak the story of his London fun and games to the press."

"Good move."

"I thought so, too. He agreed to the divorce, if I never mentioned the video to anyone and waited a year until after Brewster's reelection. His proposal was that we continue to live together in the house, keeping up appearances. He wouldn't make any demands on me, sexual or otherwise. That was good enough for me." She paused. "Then someone killed him. So here I am," she added in a caustic tone, "the happy and wealthy widow."

"But what does this have to do with his death?" Jennifer asked.

Ann swallowed hard and said, "I think the Chinese government arranged for Robert's death to change the administration's decision on the Taiwan arms deal when he wouldn't do what they wanted. That's why I know Clyde Gillis didn't do it."

Jennifer's eyes opened wide. "That's a mighty big jump from what you've told me so far."

"Then add this. Yesterday, Ambassador Liu sent somebody to break into my house and steal back the video he left with Robert."

Jennifer was shocked. "How do you know Liu was responsible for that?"

"C'mon, Jennifer. The intruder was trying out tapes in the television when I confronted him. Who else could it have been?"

"What happened?"

Ann tapped her fist on the table and smiled. "I hit him with an old baseball bat of Matt's, but my swing didn't do the job. He got away from me. I chased him out of the house, but I was too slow. He drove away in a maroon Toyota Camry. I couldn't get a license plate number."

Jennifer couldn't believe Ann sounded so cavalier about what had happened. First her husband had been murdered in the house, then the intruder. It all sounded incredibly frightening. "Did he get the video?"

"No. After Robert was killed, I put the original the ambassador gave Robert in the safe upstairs in the bedroom where I keep my jewelry. And as I told you, I have a copy of the video in a bank downtown."

"What about the police? Did you call them, or the FBI?"

"I thought about it, but rejected it. At the time, I didn't think the attempt to steal the video was connected to Robert's death, and I didn't want my personal life dragged into it."

"And now?"

"I can't tell them because I'm convinced the Chinese government was responsible for Robert's death. Clyde's arrest tells me that somebody in the administration knows that and wants to cover it up. Besides, you saw Ed Fulton. That guy's something else."

"Regardless of whom that character in the maroon Toyota is working for, you know he'll be back to get that video."

Ann nodded. "The President has guards watching my house. That's why I asked you to bring your gun to New York."

Jennifer tightly clutched her purse holding the loaded .22 and looked around nervously.

"So what should I do about the video?" Ann asked.

Jennifer smoothed down her hair, pondering the question. The pianist was loading his music into a leather folder. Jennifer had an idea. "Let me talk to a PI here. Mark Bonner's a former New York City cop. He'll know what we should do."

"This is all so personally sensitive to me," Ann said.

"That's why it's important to have you represent Clyde and not anyone else. Even one of your partners. You're my friend. You'll minimize any embarrassment to me."

"I understand that, but I'm not persuaded from what you've told me that the Chinese government arranged for Robert's death. Maybe they did, and maybe they didn't. Clyde Gillis could have killed him too. That's another possibility."

"Does that mean you won't represent Clyde?"

"I'm still afraid that Clyde Gillis won't get the best possible defense if I'm doing it."

Ann took a deep breath. "Then let me give you one more reason."

Jennifer looked at Ann expectantly.

"On the television news, they said that Ben Hartwell's the prosecutor on the case. Wouldn't you like a chance to beat him?"

Jennifer blinked in shock, then nodded. It was logical they'd bring him in.

Ann was right, of course. She'd do anything to get even with that cheating bastard.

"Okay, you've hooked your fish," Jennifer said. "But don't get your hopes up about the chances of getting Clyde Gillis off. Your Chinese ambassador story doesn't give me much to go on."

* * *

As soon as she left Ann in the elevator and returned to her own suite in the hotel, Jennifer picked up the phone. She stared at it for a few moments, wondering why she was making this call in the middle of the night. Why was she so anxious to talk to Ben? Was it just because of Clyde Gillis, or were some bitter embers from their relationship still glowing?

Hoping that the telephone number was the same as the one he had had five years ago, her own home phone number for the ten months she had lived with him, she punched out the buttons rapidly. If the number wasn't still the same, she'd be in trouble. Ben always had an unlisted number to minimize the number of threatening calls that went with his job.

"Ben Hartwell here," a sleepy voice said.

"It's a voice from your past."

She heard him shuffling as he sat up in bed and turned on a light. She wondered if it was the same Tiffany lamp that he had bought on one of their weekend trips to the Eastern Shore. "Jenny, how good to hear from you," he said sourly.

Listening to him, she'd have thought that she was the one who had run off to California for a lover, rather than the other way around. "Right out of a bad nightmare, huh?"

"You had no right to just pack up and go, leaving me that stupid note."

She smiled, thinking about the stinging missive she had left under the box containing the engagement ring:
I always knew you were a workaholic. That was strike one. And you had no soul. Strike two. Now I know you cheat on me. You've struck out.

Ben was fully awake. "That note was total bullshit. I worked hard. I wasn't a workaholic. I don't know what the hell you meant by no soul, but it pissed me off."

"I meant that you didn't care about the guilt or innocence of any defendant. Each conviction was just another notch in your belt. Actually, I thought the note was very accurate."

"And I never cheated on you," he protested. "I could have explained everything about Los Angeles. You never gave me a chance."

Oh, please, what did he take her for? "I didn't want to listen to more lies."

"I heard you had a great marriage to a
Washington Post
reporter. Short and not so sweet."

"That was nasty."

"Unlike me, I heard that he really was cheating on you. So maybe you didn't do yourself a favor by walking out on me, Jenny."

"I'm glad to hear you're as arrogant and conceited as ever. And don't call me Jenny. My name's Jennifer." Except for Ben, when they were dating, Ann was the only one whom she permitted to call her Jenny.

Ben let out a long sigh. "Is this a bad dream, or are we really having this conversation? I never wanted it to end, you know that."

She softened for a moment. "Okay, I don't want to rehash our past either. I'm actually calling about a professional matter."

He was happy to hear that she sounded like the old Jenny. God, he hoped that she hadn't been brought in as part of Senator Young's legal defense team. "Which case?"

"I'm representing Clyde Gillis."

Ben sounded flabbergasted. "You've got to be kidding. How could you defend Gillis? You're a close friend of Winthrop's wife."

"Yeah, I know it's odd. But Ann is positive that Clyde Gillis didn't kill her husband." She imagined his forehead wrinkling, as it did when Ben, who liked to be in control, had to deal with something that flew in from left field.

The prosecutor's voice took over. "You want to tell me how you know that? Maybe I'll turn him loose."

She laughed. "Good try, but I think I'll wait for trial to present my case."

Ben rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense out of what he was hearing. "You can't be his lawyer. You brought her home. You could be a witness."

She wondered what was running through his mind. Was he sorry that she was representing Gillis, rather than a pubic defender, because his case would be more difficult? Or was he hoping that by calling in the middle of the night she was opening the door for him to revive their relationship?

"I don't think so," Jennifer said. "What would I testify to?"

She waited for him to respond. When he remained silent, she couldn't help picturing him in that bed.

They had always slept naked together. She quickly shook that thought out of her mind.

He yawned. "Listen, Jenny, I love being able to talk to you after five years, but couldn't we have done this in the morning?"

He was right. She could have waited, but she didn't want to admit that. "Actually, I called tonight for a reason."

"What's that?"

"I don't want you interviewing my client without my being present."

"Sorry, you're too late. I already talked to him. I'll be happy to give you a tape of the interview," he offered.

"You recorded the whole thing?"

He chuckled. "Funny thing happened. The machine stopped recording in the middle."

All of her old anger flared up inside her. "You bastard. You haven't changed at all."

"You don't sound much different either. Where are you now? At home?"

"I'm in New York."

"For the funeral of the man your client murdered. How touching."

Jennifer didn't respond, but she was fuming.

"When you get back to town, call me," Ben said acidly. "I think we should talk. I know that you'd like to whip my ass in court, but don't let that conflict with what's in your client's best interest. When I tell you about the evidence, I think you'll want to plead this one."

"I doubt that."

"I'm going for the death penalty."

"Yeah? Well, you'll have to get a conviction first."

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

"I was expecting you to call again," Ben said as he woke out of a sound sleep. The red digital alarm next to his bed read 6:02. He wasn't surprised that it was so early. Jenny was a morning person. It was one of the ways in which their lifestyles hadn't meshed.

"You're becoming psychic," Al Hennessey said. "I'm impressed."

"Oh, it's you."

"Thanks a lot. I expected some gratitude. I'm calling with the opportunity of a lifetime."

"C'mon, it's too early for this horseshit."

"You and I have been invited to watch the sunrise through the windows of the White House."

"You're kidding."

"I wish I were. Slater wants us in his office at seven for a briefing about the Winthrop case. Sarah Van Buren from Justice will be there."

"Seven? Did I hear you right?"

"Slater wants to do it before he leaves for New York and Winthrop's funeral."

Ben threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. "You want to tell me what prompted this meeting?"

"I think you should tell me," Hennessey said in a tone now rough and angry, devoid of any jocularity. "Start by telling me what you did to Ed Fulton."

Ben had known this was coming. "You mean he went crying to the teacher?"

"Something like that."

"I've been trying to get him to make noises like a lawyer."

"Well, he told Slater you're incompetent, and I should take you off the Winthrop case."

Furious, Ben jumped out of bed with the phone in his hand. "That bastard."

"Was that your game plan?" Hennessey asked sharply. "To fuck Fulton over so badly that I'd have to yank you, and you'd be able to go back to the Young case full-time? Because if it was, I'm going to ream your ass. It makes me look like a fool. I don't like anybody questioning the competence of one of my people, or how I run this office."