Stranglehold (12 page)

“The problem is the economy. This is an expensive house. And a lot of lawyers are being laid off in most of the big firms. Even a few of the
CEOs Sean knew—Sean was my husband—they don't have the kind of money they once had, either.”

“That doesn't exactly break my heart.”

“From what Susan has told me about you, I didn't think it would. She told me you were a commie. And a very cynical man. But that she trusted your judgment and liked you very much.”

“The only part of that I don't agree with is the commie part. They aren't radical enough.”

“You and my soon-to-be ex would get along fine. He thinks everybody in your party should be put in prison.”

“He sounds like a lot of fun.”

“He was for a long time. But you know how marriages go.”

“All too well. But I suppose Susan told you about that, too.”

“She said that two of your staffers told her that you seemed lonely to them.”

“That would be Ben and Kristin. And they both seem lonely to me, so I guess we're even.”

“How about some more coffee?”

“Fine. But I can get it.”

When I started filling my cup she said, “I like a man who knows his way around the kitchen. You know how to pour your own coffee.”

Coming back to the table I said, “I have the home video. I studied it very hard for a week. I made a lot of mistakes—I kept pouring it on the floor—but I finally figured it out.”

“Smart-ass. What I meant was my soon-to-be ex assumed that since I didn't have a job as such—not that he
wanted
me to have a job, by the way—I should become his personal servant. Whatever he wanted, I did. Susan saw the bind I was in a long time before I realized it myself.”

“And speaking of Susan.”

She sighed and shrugged slender shoulders. “You want to find out what's upsetting her so much, but there are some things I won't discuss. She's been my best friend since seventh grade, when my family moved
here. Even when she went away to private school we stayed in very close touch. The only time we didn't get along was when she got into drugs and sleeping around. I did a little bit of both myself, but I pulled back while there was still something left of me. Susan seemed determined to destroy herself. I couldn't handle watching it.”

I meant to startle her, and I did. “And somewhere during that time she had a son. His name's Bobby Flaherty and he's in town now.”

She'd been reaching for her coffee but withdrew her hand. “I can't believe she told you that. She swore me to absolute secrecy.”

“I figured it out for myself. She's been avoiding me so that we won't have to discuss it.”

“How did you ‘figure it out'?”

“A couple of things happened and it seemed like the only explanation. But I need you to give me your impression of her the past few weeks. She's been missing scheduled campaign stops and she really blew off the last debate with Duffy. As a cynical commie, I'm worried about the campaign.”

“But you're not worried about Susan?”

“I like Susan and I admire Susan, but I wasn't hired to be her shrink. I was hired to get her elected. So that's my main concern right now. And this thing with Bobby has obviously taken its toll on her.”

She was up and crossing the hardwood floor to the coffeepot before she said, “She loves him very much.”

“I assumed she did.”

When she came back she said, “There's only one thing I'll tell you.”

“All right.”

“And I'll only tell you this because the two times I've asked her about it she just dismisses it, tells me I'm imagining things.” She picked up her cup and blew on the coffee. “There's a man who followed us a few times. A redheaded man. She said she's never noticed him and therefore I'm crazy. But one night after we had dinner downtown I dropped her off at campaign headquarters. Her car was there. We said good night and I
drove off. But when I got to the end of the alley I looked in my rearview mirror, and I saw him pull in right next to her. And she walked over to his car. I went around the block and got as close as I could to them without being seen. They were standing there talking. They both looked very angry. I went around again, but this time their cars were gone.”

“Did you tell her about what you saw?”

“I tried to last night, but she was so depressed about everything I didn't want to push it.”

“So she spent most of the night here?”

“Yeah, it was like being in college again. We sat up all night and talked. It was nearly five o'clock when she left.”

“You think she cares about the election?”

“Very much. She's really ambitious now. I sort of kidded her one night and said, ‘You've had a taste of power and you want more.' And she said, ‘It's terrible, Jane. But it's true.' ”

I finished my coffee and said, “Well, thanks for the coffee and the company. I should have called before I came out here, but I figured you'd just stall me if I gave you a chance.”

“I would have. But I'm glad you came.”

She walked me to the front door. “Do you mind if I'm a little bit forward?”

“Be my guest.”

“If you don't have any plans for tonight, would you consider having dinner with me somewhere?”

“You beat me to it. I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“Dammit. So much for staying cool and mysterious. I blew my chance.”

“I'll call you later when I find out a little more about how the day is going to go.”

I walked out into the smoky scent of autumn. The sky was as pure blue as a baby's eyes. As I was opening my car door I glanced back at the house. She was in the open doorway waving to me. It felt so damned good I forgot completely about being a cynical commie.

The call came when I was only a few blocks away from campaign headquarters. The plan was to use the McDonald's drive-through and eat in the office. The call offered me a new and unwelcome alternative.

“How did you get this number?”

“My name's on your screen, huh?”

“What the hell do you want?”

“I got the number from Ben. I convinced him it was important. I want us to have lunch together. Since we're staying in the same hotel, that shouldn't be any big hassle.”

“The answer is no and I'm going to end this conversation.”

In a singsong voice he said, “I know something about Susan that you don't know.”

“I doubt that.”

“She's in trouble and you know it. And I'm serious about knowing something you don't.”

Nobody ever accused Greg Larson of not being clever. There was no
way I could hang up now. “We can talk about it right now. I don't need to have lunch with you.”

“Then you're a fool, Dev. This is serious shit.”

I saw the McDonald's a block ahead. I didn't want to give him the pleasure of telling him that I'd meet him.

He did it for me. “Fifteen minutes in the Governor's Room. You know where it is.”

He clicked off.

Ten minutes later I was angling my rental up into the parking garage that was attached to the hotel. From there I found an elevator that took me to the ground floor. Larson was sitting in a wing chair reading
The Wall Street Journal
. When he saw me, he folded the paper and stood up. He was a heavy man who somehow retained his good looks despite the whiskey flush on his face and the bulge above his belt line. Expensive and clever tailoring helped, as did the startling white hair. He had a boardroom gravitas that intimidated most people who didn't know any of the things he'd done. He started to put out his hand but then stopped. “I don't suppose you'd want to shake.”

“Let's get our food and you tell me what's so important. I don't want to be around you any longer than I have to.”

“It's a good thing I'm not sensitive. Otherwise you'd have hurt my feelings with that remark.” I knew actors who would beg for his teeth. They were bright beauties. “It's because of Bill Potter, isn't it?”

“I said let's go eat.”

“He was a poor candidate.”

“He was an honorable man. He lost both his legs in Iraq and he had a promising career in the Senate.”

“His father was a leftist and his brother was a fag.”

I took two steps toward him. I was happy to see the fear spoil his
central-casting face. “Listen to me, you piece of shit. Don't push it or I'll take you apart right here. You understand me?”

I'd spoken louder than I'd intended. His eyes scanned the lobby to see if anybody was aware of what was going on. I turned and walked toward the Governor's Room, the main restaurant so named because a governor in the early part of the last century had come from Aldyne. His bearded scowl hung from every wall.

We took a table that overlooked the river. Fishermen lined the far shore. They were likely much happier than I was at the moment.

Larson ordered a double scotch and water. I ordered a cup of coffee.

“Think you'll get me drunk and I'll tell you everything?”

“Just tell me what you want to tell me.”

“The ladies must really like your idea of foreplay.”

He waited until the waitress had brought our drinks and taken our orders and then he said, “Monica and I were about to dissolve our partnership.” He must have expected some dramatic response from me. I just stared at him. “I found out what she'd been up to the last three or four years.” I still said nothing. “Are you interested in this or not?”

“Not so far. Why would I care if two sleazebags didn't want to work together anymore?”

He sat back, folded his hands on the table, and frowned. “I have to admit I probably went a little overboard on Potter. But it was a close race, Dev. I hit him with the only thing I could.”

“His father's a decent man and so is his brother.”

“I guess that's where we differ. If the old man is so ‘decent,' why is he such a socialist?”

“Universal health care makes him a socialist?”

“Hell, yes, it does. And you know what I'm talking about. Some of the op-eds he wrote against going to war in Iraq bordered on treason.”

“You'd better look up treason, Larson. You don't know what the word means. And all he said was that we were being lied to. That hardly qualifies as treason.”

“And his brother—that state doesn't want some flaming faggot to be its senator's brother. Especially when he's always pushing for gay marriage and gay adoption.”

I smiled. I couldn't help myself.

“What's so funny?”

“I'm sitting here talking to some fop with manicured fingers who's had two or three face-lifts and two turns at liposuction. You're the flamer, Larson. Not Dave Potter. He's like his brother Bill. He did two tours in Iraq when it was at its worst. So knock off the phony John Wayne bullshit. And Wayne was a draft dodger, in case you've forgotten.”

“That was a nice little speech.”

“Bill Potter was a good senator and a decent man. Unlike the hack you got elected. I was surprised he didn't show up wearing his white sheet and carrying a torch.”

“Very funny.”

“So what the fuck do you want? I'm giving you three minutes to lay it out or you'll be eating both of our lunches by yourself.”

Out came the salads, came a refill of coffee for me, came the fresh hot bread.

“I found out that Monica was blackmailing three of our clients. One of them was Natalie Cooper.” He was pleased with himself. He'd gotten my attention. But my silence made him uneasy. He hurried on. “That's why somebody killed her.”

“And you, of course, didn't know anything about the blackmail?”

“I'm ruthless. I'm not stupid. Monica was both. She went through our money as soon as we got it. She even tried to convince me we needed a private jet. But she was a good front for our firm. She was good on TV and the cable boys didn't hate her the way they hate me. So she was useful. But she was greedy and so she got into blackmail.”

“If she didn't cut you in, how did you find out about it?”

“I had her computer hacked. She was smart enough to never say anything
outright, but after I read a few hundred e-mails it became clear what she was doing.”

“Why are you telling me? Shouldn't you be telling the police?”

“You're losing your savvy, Dev. The police know there was a lot of friction between Monica and me. A couple of people in the hotel told them about our shouting matches. They wouldn't mind pinning her death on me. The press would love it. It'd be like seeing Karl Rove in a perp walk. You people would be having multiple orgasms if you saw something like that. So I'm sure as hell not going to let them know that I had a good reason to
want
to kill her.”

Our food came. I had no appetite. I stuck to coffee. He started sawing on his rare steak immediately. After his cheeks were puffed out with meat and his lips glistened with blood, he said, “And there's another reason. If any of this ever hits the press, I need you to verify that I told you all this. If I'd had anything to do with the blackmail, I sure as hell wouldn't have told you about it.”

“Because if the story gets out about blackmail, you're out of business whether you had anything to do with it or not.”

“You don't have to sound so goddamn happy.”

I pushed my plate away and then pushed my chair back.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“I have work to do.”

“I tell you all this and you just get up and leave without saying anything?”

“Looks that way, doesn't it?”

I threw down a ten for the tip and left the Governor's Room. The old fart in all the framed photographs and paintings looked crabbier than ever.