Flashpoint (9 page)

‘I need you to talk to Robert alone tonight, Dev – if I may call you Dev.'

‘Of course.'

‘Hammell will drag him back in the morning and I don't want to sit through another session with Robert lying.'

‘You're going out there right now?'

‘Yes. Where are you?'

I told her.

‘We could get there about the same time. I'm sure it won't be pleasant. I like Elise very much but sometimes she gets on my nerves. And I'm sure this has devastated her.'

I decided against telling her what Elise had done earlier. Jane had enough problems.

‘I'll see you there,' I said.

W
hen I got on the country road I wanted to keep driving. There was a gaudy gold full moon and with the radio off and the window partially down the air was sweet and the voices of owls and horses and night birds caught me up in a daydream of driving for a long time to a place where everybody was guaranteed a fair shake and there were no politics. And where the woman I'd been looking for would step up and claim me.

There were so many media trucks on the perimeter of the Logan estate it looked as if an army had amassed for an invasion. Dozens of lights of different sizes cast the night into a troubled brightness, that taint of emergency that so often meant death. At the gate to the property were two men in brown security uniforms with shotguns and mean faces. Three more of them were patrolling the ten-foot-high black iron security fence. These three had nightsticks and looked as if they were eager to use them. As I pulled up to the two with shotguns several reporters started shouting at me. By what right should I try to get past the two guards when they'd had no luck?

I stopped five feet away from them and put the car in neutral. One of the security guards stepped up. The night was cold enough for his breath to be silver. I put my window down. He stuck a middle-aged hard-ass face in and said, ‘Who are you?'

‘My name's Dev Conrad.'

He walked back to the other man. They had two chairs there, apparently in hopes that they could rest at some point. Unlikely. He picked up a clipboard and held the top page up to the light. He scanned it and then set it down.

‘I need to see your license,' he said when he came back.

I was ready for him and handed it over.

He examined it with a flashlight he wore on his chock-full belt. Then he handed it back.

‘Has a Jane Tyler been here yet?'

‘I passed her through about five minutes ago.'

My daydreaming had slowed me down. ‘Thanks.'

Windows on the ground floor gleamed in the cold night; the upstairs was dark. I pulled in next to where five other cars were parked and when I stopped and killed the engine I saw Jane Tyler step out of hers and walk toward me. She wore a flattering black double-breasted coat. With the collar up the pretty woman looked a bit glamorous.

‘Hammell called me on my cell while I was driving out here. He wants the senator back in his office at nine o'clock.'

‘Relentless.'

We started up the flat stone walk past the mullioned windows. ‘This is my first experience with the big-time press.' She nodded to the army of lights, technology and people ranged across the line of iron fence. ‘It's scary. I don't like them. And I'm supposed to be a liberal.'

Mrs Weiderman answered the door, looming in silhouette in the lighted vestibule. She was solemn instead of cordial. The day had worn even her down.

‘Good evening. They're all in the living room, including Mr Zuckerman.'

‘How bad is it?' I said softly as we followed her inside. She took our coats.

‘Elise's doctor was here and sedated her just a little. She's sitting up but she mostly just stares into space. She refuses to lie down in the master bedroom.'

Before we reached the living room I could hear James Logan intoning.

‘Uncle James, will you please sit down and shut up.'

‘My favorite niece,' he said just as we entered the room.

‘Your only niece,' Maddy said. ‘You're not helping anybody and you're completely wrong about …'

She froze when she saw me. So I'd been the subject of conversation.

‘Here he is now,' James said to Robert, Elise and Maddy on the couch, ‘and what's he been doing? Escorting your Ms Tyler around.'

‘More than you can say, James,' Jane snapped. ‘Since I'd never go out with you.'

Maddy laughed sharply. James glared at her. The way his body lurched I could tell he was well along with his drinks.

He was duded up tonight – jeans, black shirt, black leather jacket and enough mousse in his dark hair to give him the look of the oldest-living lounge lizard. ‘In case you haven't noticed, Conrad, the press is killing us.'

I ignored him. ‘Hi, Robert. Is Ben here yet?'

‘Bathroom,' Robert said.

‘Did you hear what I said? What the hell are you doing about the press?'

Ben Zuckerman came through the door, scowling. ‘James, I thought I told you to sit down and shut up or get the hell out of here.' Ben was a short, tightly-wound man who did not suffer idiots well. He was by most accounts the single best criminal attorney in the Midwest. The number and variety of cases he'd won was astounding. He'd boxed in college and was now an amateur handball champion. His small, classic features gave him the mien of a gentle man. They were misleading.

‘Who the hell d'you think you're talking to?' James said.

‘Robert,' Ben said. ‘He goes or I go.'

Robert nodded and stood up. He quickstepped to his brother, ripped the drink from his hand and then took him by the arm. ‘You need to lie down, James.'

‘Zuckerman and Conrad are friends, Robert. They're both incompetent. You need to talk to that lawyer I know in Saint Louis.'

But Robert wasn't letting go of his arm or slowing their progress toward the hall. He'd set the drink down on an end table and was now prepared for anything James might do.

‘I'm sorry, Mrs Logan,' Ben said to Elise.

Mrs Weiderman hadn't been exaggerating. Elise, clothed tonight in a mauve robe over a purple pajama set with matching purple slippers, glanced up at the mention of her name. But it was easy to see that she did not comprehend what Ben had just said to her. Maddy slid even closer. ‘There's nothing to be sorry for, Mr Zuckerman—'

‘Ben.'

‘Ben, then. There really is nothing to be sorry for. My uncle is a horse's ass. Usually I'd be more polite but under the circumstances I don't care.'

Again, Elise's face showed no emotion.

‘Ben, this is Jane Tyler,' I said.

He was a courtly man and he greeted Jane with a handshake and a warm smile. ‘Robert's told me all about you. He said you did a great job at the police station. I hope you'll continue working with us.'

Ben Zuckerman, no less, was asking a local lawyer to assist in the defense. This happened most of the time but not always, and when it didn't it was a snub everybody – including the press – noticed.

Jane's smile made me smile. ‘I'm very flattered, Mr Zuckerman.'

‘I'm Ben and you're Jane, if that's all right.'

‘That's fine.'

‘Now, Mrs Weiderman said that you and I can use the study for as long as we need it, so why don't we fix ourselves a drink and carry them in there, and you can bring me up to date.'

‘Sounds great.'

Ben went over to the dry bar. ‘What would you like to drink?'

‘Bourbon and 7UP, if they've got it.'

‘They do.'

As Ben fixed the drinks, he looked at me. ‘Do you like the hotel you're staying in, Dev?'

‘Not bad at all.'

‘Any kind of gym?'

‘A small one.'

‘That'll work for me.'

Ben brought the drinks over. ‘Did you two come in separate cars?'

‘Yes,' Jane said.

‘We may be here a long time. You don't have to stick around if you don't want to, Dev.'

‘I need to talk to Robert, then I'll head back.'

Ben tilted his head in the direction of the hall and followed Jane out of the room.

By now Elise's face had a porcelain sheen. She surprised me. ‘Stop looking at me like that, Dev. You're making me feel like a freak.'

‘I apologize, Elise. I'm just worried about you.'

‘Robert's the one you should be worried about.'

‘Believe me, I am.'

‘He doesn't deserve this.'

‘I know he doesn't.'

‘The second I saw that woman—' She didn't finish.

Maddy patted her mother's folded hands. ‘You're exhausted, Mom. I can hear it in your voice.'

I heard the same thing. Maybe she'd be able to fight the sedative her doctor had given her but only for a time. Even when her words were emotional her voice was a monotone.

A long, weary sigh. ‘I guess you're right, honey.' And then to me: ‘I'm sorry James was such an ass, Dev. He thinks he's an expert on everything.'

‘That's all right. Just about every candidate has a naysayer in his or her group. Somebody who thinks they know a better consultant or a better way to win the election. And sometimes they're even right. Nobody in my business has a perfect track record by a long shot. James probably thinks he's protecting his brother.'

‘He's an asshole,' Maddy said. ‘I hate him.'

‘Honey, he's family.'

‘You don't have to remind me, Mom. I never liked him, even when I was small. He was condescending even back then. Now, c'mon, let's go upstairs.'

Maddy was as careful with her mother as a nurse would be with a drastically sick patient. And Elise was uncertain on her feet, nearly falling back on the couch before Maddy and I grabbed her.

‘'Night, Dev. I guess I'll go to bed, too. I think I'll watch some lame movie with a happy ending. Maybe I can forget about everything for a while.'

‘I hope it works,' I said.

‘Thank you, Dev,' Elise said.

‘Get some sleep, Elise. Hopefully things will be a little better in the morning.'

One of those lies that are embarrassing when you think about them. Things would be better in the morning? Really? How?

I walked over to the dry bar and opened the door of the small refrigerator hidden from sight. I found three Heinekens inside and took one. I'd just popped the cap when Robert came rushing into the room.

‘I wrestled James upstairs and threw him on the bed in one of the guest rooms. Sorry he was such a dick. I didn't want to be here with Elise. Maddy told me she calms down when I'm not around. I don't know how the hell she can even function with the sedatives the doc gave her. But I suppose since she's had so many kinds of antidepressants over the years she's built up a resistance. Anyway, the best thing I can do is leave her alone.' He nodded to my beer. ‘I'd take one of those.'

I dug one out and handed it to him.

‘I won't even look out of any of the northern windows. This looks like the Michael Jackson trial. Or OJ. All these reporters from all over the world. I'm waiting for them to just overrun us and drag me away and lynch me. And I'm only half kidding. I tried to take a little nap a while ago to calm down and I had a dream of something like that.'

‘Jane tells me you were holding something back from Hammell?'

Since he had a mouthful of beer he could have done a spit take and made both of us laugh. Instead the eyes bulged a little and color came up in the cheeks. ‘She gave me the same bullshit in the station parking lot. I like Jane but she's wrong as hell about me holding something back.'

‘You said she was a good lawyer. And a good lawyer learns how to read clients.'

‘You can be good without being invincible.'

‘She's trying to help you and so am I. And so is Ben.'

‘What'm I supposed to do? Make things up to satisfy you three? I told you the absolute truth.'

‘Hammell may request a lie detector test.'

The gaze narrowed; a tooth bit the edge of an upper lip. In poker that would have been called a ‘tell.' A hint of deception.

‘So? I'm not worried about a lie detector.'

But he was and so much so that he turned away from me and walked back across the living room and sat in an armchair. He needed time to compose himself again. Maybe he hadn't even thought of a lie detector test until I'd brought it up. I sat down across from him.

‘Did you hear what Shay had to say about it all?'

‘I've been busy, Robert.'

‘Enough to make you sick to your stomach. Such a goddamned Good Samaritan. A Chicago station had him in the studio and our worthy opponent claimed to be very sad for me and my family and that he was sure everything would turn out all right for me because I was a decent man and then we could get back to campaigning and talking about why it was a good thing that one percent of our population controlled eighty percent of the wealth. Some goddamned consultant wrote it for him, you can bet on that.'

I appreciated anything that made me laugh. ‘I'm some goddamned consultant, Robert.'

‘Oh, right. Sorry.'

‘And I would've told him to say exactly what he said. Let everybody else play the bad guy. Make sure you look reasonable and civil – that's all that matters.'

He leaned forward, elbows on knees, the green bottle hanging from his folded hands. ‘Say we wrap this thing up in a week or so. What're my chances of pulling it off – the election, I mean?'

I could have reminded him of how bad things were for him right now. I could have told him he was worrying for nothing because we were likely all done. I could have told him that the affair alone, in a tight race, could be fatal. But he was a politician – a good one and a major one – and they really don't think like you and me. They make moral compromises most people couldn't bring themselves to make and they almost never let go of the idea that somehow, some way they will be re-elected, even if they are caught in bed with a thirteen-year-old girl they've just given heroin to. If you don't believe me consider the true story of a well-known US politician. A tabloid breaks the story that a) he has a mistress, b) his cancer-dying wife knows about his mistress and is crushed and c) his mistress is now pregnant. His presidential aspirations have crashed completely but he still calls the president elect's people and offers himself as attorney general material. This is being disconnected from reality on a cosmic level. It's a drug, this sense of entitlement. I stayed silent.