by Robert Ellis
“We need to think this through.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he said.
He pulled into a parking space and told her to get two coffees and a pack of cigarettes. She stared back at him, her green eyes burning. Then, without a word, she got out and hurried into the market.
Frank kept the engine running and looked through the window, watching her at the counter. Linda had faced off with the U.S. Attorney and stood her ground. She’d even kicked the man out of her house. When they were finally alone, she had helped Frank clean up, dressing his wounds quickly, even lovingly, and giving him a fresh shirt that he guessed belonged to Jason Hardly.
She swung the door open, tossing the cigarettes at him before she climbed in. Frank opened the pack and lit one, sipping coffee and hoping that the double dose of hot caffeine mixed with nicotine might revive him. He pulled back onto the street. He let a block go by, then another, watching her tug on her seatbelt and stew. Her eyes remained bright, everything about her, magnetic.
“Olson takes pictures of Merdock doing his girlfriend,” he said finally. “That’s where this starts, right?”
She didn’t say anything, but nodded grudgingly.
“Then the Merdocks make a mistake,” he said. “They think Woody has the pictures, so they kill him. Even worse, the cops make a mistake and arrest Olson for the murder.”
He could see her eyes going. She was chewing it over, though still refusing to speak to him.
“So what’s Olson thinking when he’s arrested?” he asked, sipping his coffee. “I’ll tell you what he’s thinking. The story’s on the front page and all over TV. The Merdocks have figured it out. Olson’s out in the open and he’s next.”
“He’s not next anymore, Frank. We are.”
“Come on, Linda. Olson’s read the papers and knows what happened to Woody and those two kids. He’s scared shitless. He hates me so much, I’m the last one he’d talk to. He’s not going to the cops because they think he killed Woody. So what’s he do? What would you do?”
She looked back at him anxiously and shook her head.
“He’s calling you but he can’t reach you—the hang ups, remember? You told me that someone had been calling you ever since Woody died. When I hit his redial button, the call went to your house. Olson’s gotta get the pictures to someone he thinks will do the right thing. The night he was murdered, he said he went to the post office. Why would he bring that up with Raymond holding a gun to his head?”
“Olson wanted you to know that he mailed them,” Linda said.
Frank nodded, remembering how Olson had told him that it was the wrong time to be alone. It was dangerous now. Olson needed to get rid of the pictures. He was probably trying to make a run for it when Raymond showed up instead.
“So who could Olson count on?” Frank asked. “Who would he send the pictures to? Who’s left?”
“Helen Pryor.”
Their eyes met. It had to be Helen. Frank glanced at the cell phone plugged into the cigarette lighter.
“It’s election day,” he said. “No one’s working. Call her and tell her to meet us at her office. We’re on our way.”
Linda grabbed the phone and flipped it open. As Frank gave her the number, he swerved into the next lane, making a sudden left and heading for Capitol Hill.
Chapter 73
Raymond looked past Jake from the backseat as Norman inched the Lincoln toward the corner. When his view cleared, he saw Frank and Linda hurrying into the Russell Building through a side entrance.
“Just like Jesus,” Jake said. “Back from the dead.”
More like a phoenix rising out of the ashes, Raymond thought to himself without saying anything.
After the fire department managed to contain the blaze, they had scoured the area block by block searching for Frank’s body. When they didn’t find a corpse, they checked his office and the house—one step ahead of the U.S. Attorney the whole way. Although they still hadn’t caught sight of him, they’d been following Linda’s SUV since it left her house. Now they finally had confirmation.
But why would they come here?
The Russell Building stood directly across the street from the Capitol. Raymond couldn’t help thinking that it was an odd place to go when you were on the run. And Frank was definitely on the run. Jake glanced at him and seemed disturbed by it, too.
They had reached an understanding. Sometime during the night as they gazed at the fire and Norman slept. Both he and Jake had slipped past reason. It was emotional now. Personal.
“What next,” Jake said.
Raymond shrugged. What next in a job that had gone to shit with what nexts? There was always the unknown factor when it came to Frank Miles. He wasn’t exactly the person Jake had first described, and Raymond continued to find it troubling. He thought about the gun he’d seen in Frank’s desk drawer the night he had murdered Woody. It was a big gun, a .45, not the weapon of choice for the faint of heart.
Jake got out of the car, saying that he’d be right back. Raymond watched him cross the street, continuing up the sidewalk to the main entrance of the Russell Building. The doors were locked, and Raymond could see Jake cupping his hands and peering through the glass into the lobby. After several minutes, he hustled back to the car and gave Raymond a hard look.
“Helen Pryor’s got an office in there,” he said, still thinking it over. “Her name’s on the building directory.”
Raymond didn’t know who Helen Pryor was. Besides, the sidewalks were empty and the building was obviously closed.
“She ran against Olson,” Jake added after a moment.
Raymond remembered seeing it on Geraldo Rivera’s cable TV show. Geraldo had recounted the whole story, playing Frank’s spot against Olson over and over again with delight. Before Frank had humiliated Olson, Olson and Helen Pryor had been friends.
Chapter 74
Files and papers littered Helen’s office as if an attorney worked here.
They started with what they found piled on her desk, working their way through the rest of the room as quickly as they could. Frank, Linda, and Helen searching for something Olson might have sent as if their lives depended on it. A manila envelope. A mailer from the post office. Anything that might contain the photographs Olson had taken of Merdock with his girlfriend. Every witness had been murdered. Olson’s photographs were the only thing left connecting Merdock to the victims.
“They’re not here,” Helen said. “And why would Ozzie send them to me? I don’t understand.”
Frank grimaced. “They’ve gotta be here.”
The senator’s chief of staff entered the room. She was blond and cute and in her late twenties. Frank had always had a good relationship with her. When he and Linda broke up, she had even made a play for him. But now Frank was spoiled goods. He’d lost his name, his business. Frank could feel the ice as she ignored him and approached Helen. He was valueless to her ambitions now, a Beltway bitch clawing her way to the top of the heap.
“There’s nothing up front,” she said in a voice laced with boredom. “Is it okay if I leave now?”
Helen nodded. “Thanks for opening up the office.”
The blonde gave Frank a vicious look and walked out. When the door closed, Frank turned back to Helen. They’d searched the entire office and Olson’s package wasn’t here. He was feeling panicky again, like they’d made a wrong turn somewhere and time was running out.
“What about the mail room?” he said. “Maybe it wasn’t delivered yet.”
“It’s election day, Frank. Everything’s closed.”
* * *
Raymond entered the side entrance of the Russell Building two steps ahead of Jake and Norman. The lobby was set up like an airport. Bags went on the conveyor belt to be x-rayed. The only way to the elevators was through the metal detector before the archway.
Raymond eyed the guard carefully. He was an older man, working alone on an off day. When he noticed them, he got out
of his chair and stretched his legs and back like he’d been sitting for a long time. He appeared sleepy, most likely bored and glad to have some company.
Raymond stepped through the metal detector and the alarm started buzzing. The guard’s face lit up with concern. Raymond smiled and shrugged, pointing his gun at the man and watching the concern change to horror and fear. He pulled the trigger and the muzzle flashed. It was fast and clean. Two quick shots to the head and the guard’s eyes went blank. Raymond watched as the old man took a step back and staggered, then did a belly flop onto the tiled floor.
It was over, the gate open and purged.
They rushed through the metal detector toward the body. Jake dug into the guard’s pockets, fishing his keys out and tossing them to Norman. As Norman pulled away the guard’s jacket, the elevator pinged and all three of them turned. The doors opened and a young woman stepped out. She was a blonde and looked pissed off and in a hurry. She glanced at them as she trotted through the archway. When she noticed the guard’s body on the floor and saw the blood shooting out of his forehead like a broken water fountain, she stopped dead in her tracks and tried to scream but nothing came out.
* * *
Frank dragged a wooden bench down the hall, picked it up and heaved it through the mail room door. The glass shattered and Linda and Helen cringed. Reaching inside, Frank found the lock, kicked the broken glass away and pushed the door open.
The room was dark, the layout so antiquated that it felt like a tomb. Frank leapt across the counter and rushed over to the mail slots. The names of each senator were posted above the slots, each slot overflowing with undelivered mail. When he spotted Helen’s, he grabbed the pile and threw it down on the counter. Most of the envelopes were oversized and he sorted through them quickly. It was the third envelope from the bottom and he almost dropped it as his eyes locked on Olson’s name and return address.
He had the evidence in his hands. He ripped open the envelope. There was a DVD inside a paper sleeve, and he read the label.
Meet Mel Merdock.
They ran down the hall to the elevator, rushed inside and up to Helen’s office. As Frank moved around the desk and slipped the DVD into the computer, Linda and Helen pulled up chairs. The drive on the computer made a whirling sound. Within a few seconds an image appeared on the monitor without being cued.
It was a political spot, crudely modeled after the ad Frank had made against Olson. An image of Mel Merdock removing Beth Williams’s bra opened the piece. They were on a bed in their underwear, their faces so clear it almost looked as if they had been posing for Olson’s camera. As Frank watched, he couldn’t help noticing the woman’s obvious likeness to Juliana. Her hair was the same color and styled in exactly the same way. Their faces were almost a perfect match as well.
The image dissolved into another, the shots picking up speed to the point where Olson had achieved motion with still pictures. Merdock and Williams were naked now, grinding it out with Merdock on top. Only Merdock wasn’t kissing her or even holding her. Instead, he was pushing her and slapping her—then punching her with a closed fist. Merdock was assaulting the woman. Beating her.
Olson read the voice-over copy himself. The sound of his raspy drawl had a spooky feel about it, almost as if he was speaking to them from the other side.
OLSON’S VOICE:
Meet Mel Merdock, candidate for the U.S. Senate. This is where Merdock stands on women’s issues. Merdock says he SUPPORTS the Family Leave Act. He says he SUPPORTS laws barring sexual discrimination in the work place. He says he SUPPORTS stronger laws protecting women from spousal abuse and domestic violence. He even says he SUPPORTS a woman’s right to choose. Mel Merdock says that he supports women. Sure he does. Mel Merdock should NOT be elected to the U.S. Senate. On Tuesday, you can make the difference. Send Mel Merdock to jail.
As the spot ended, Merdock punched the girl in the face and her head snapped back. Frank realized that she had been wearing a wig for Merdock. Beneath the dark hair that mimicked Juliana was a blonde with a battered face. The girl looked back in terror as Merdock tossed the wig on the floor and struck her again. When Merdock seemed to have had enough, he climbed off the bed and started shouting at her, probably blaming her for the rape and beating. Miraculously, the girl lifted her head slightly and turned toward the door. And that’s the way Olson left it. A close-up of Beth Williams’s bruised face, a still life, fading to black.
No one said anything. No one moved.
Frank looked at Linda and Helen staring at the monitor, everyone stunned. As he turned away, he thought about what Randolph had said after Olson’s murder. The motive usually matches the crime, Frank. The motive matches the crime. Frank remembered Eddie and Mario telling him that Beth Williams couldn’t be located and had probably returned to Dallas to shoot another TV ad. But that didn’t seem very likely, not with all those bruises on her face. When he looked back at the monitor, the fog finally lifted and he felt another hard wave of anger roll through his gut.
Olson had thought that he’d taken photographs of Merdock beating up his girlfriend. He’d documented the motive for the murders without guessing what the pictures really meant.
Merdock had killed her. And the motive finally matched the crime.
Linda and Helen began to stir, perhaps guessing what Frank was thinking. Ejecting the DVD from the computer, he returned the disk to its paper sleeve and slipped it into his shirt pocket.
“The president called me yesterday,” Helen whispered. “It was after Merdock’s press conference, Frank. I want you to know that I didn’t take the call.”
He nodded at her quietly. Senator Helen Pryor was as elegant a person as Frank had ever met. Another moment passed before he turned back to Linda.
“Let’s go find Randolph,” he said.
Chapter 75
As they left Helen’s office, Frank heard the senator close the door behind them and turn the lock. He looked at Linda walking beside him and could tell that she wasn’t taking it very well. She seemed dazed, numb, lost inside herself. When they turned the corner, Frank looked ahead and noticed an old man pushing a squeaky cart past the elevator. Buckets of ice were stacked on his cart, and the old man was humming a tune. They finally reached the elevator and Frank hit the button. While they waited, he watched the old man unlock a door and vanish inside a senator’s office with a bucket of ice. The office was dark. No one was there or would be until tomorrow.
The elevator arrived. Frank followed Linda inside, pressing the button to the ground floor just as doors closed. Watching ice being delivered to empty offices seemed so odd. Almost eerie.
They reached the first floor and the doors sprung open. As they passed through the lobby, Frank looked for the guard but didn’t see him. When he gave the door a push, it wouldn’t budge. Linda met his eyes and appeared spooked. He tried the door again. They were locked in.
“We need to get out of here,” she said quietly.
Frank turned back to the lobby. He could hear a noise. A clicking sound that seemed to be coming from the x-ray machine. The conveyor belt would move an inch forward, then reset with a click and move an inch back. The machine was jammed. Frank’s eyes rose to the monitor, then froze as he struggled to get a grip on what he was seeing. Two human skeletons were embracing each other on the monitor. He stepped closer in a rush just to make sure, spotting a man’s foot caught in the mouth of the x-ray machine. When he freed it, the conveyor belt started moving again.
He heard Linda gasp and felt his body shudder as the two dead bodies rolled out. He could see Helen Pryor’s chief of staff lying on top of the guard with her legs straddling the man’s thighs. Blood was oozing out of the holes in her head and dripping onto the guard’s haggard face. Their eyes were open and bulging out of their sockets. Their skin looked discolored, like they’d been burned or even cooked by too many x-rays.
Frank grabbed Linda’s hand and started running down the hall. As they hit the stairway heading for the basement,
he heard a door slam above them and saw Raymond and Jake leaping down the steps two at a time. Both of them were carrying guns.
Frank tightened his grip on Linda as they skidded into the basement hall. They passed the cafeteria, the news stand. No one was around, everything closed. Beneath Capitol Hill, the government had literally dug its heels into the ground. There were miles of tunnels running from one building to the next. Frank knew that they were in a corridor below street level, the subway station to the Capitol just ahead. But as they reached the escalators, a series of gunshots rang out from behind them and the wall of glass doors evaporated before their eyes. Frank shielded Linda’s face as best he could, the shattered glass exploding in the air and raining down on them like hail. But they couldn’t stop, couldn’t wait, rushing through the storm and down the escalator to the platform below.
A subway car sat before them with its lights out. It was an open car that looked more like a tour ride at Universal Studios. It ran for all of about fifty yards to the Capitol at the other end of the tracks. It looked ridiculous and embarrassing and must have cost a fortune to build. To the right, a wide corridor followed the path of the tracks for those in government who had the strength to walk and talk at the same time.
Frank and Linda bolted down the corridor. As they rounded the curve and hit the steps on the other side, Frank could hear the faraway sound of Raymond and Jake slipping on the shattered glass. Gunshots echoed through the tunnel, louder than before, the rounds knocking out chunks of the wall and spraying them with debris.
Frank and Linda pushed through another set of doors, hitting the main artery beneath the building. It was darker here, and the path swept in a huge arc in both directions. Paintings hung from the walls like an art gallery. If this had been a normal working day, hundreds of people would have been walking back and forth between the Capitol and their offices.
