“Yes, but—” Ben sighed. “It’s very hard to do.” He looked up at Hammond. “Because I’m talking about murder. The murder of Victoria Danvers.”
“What?” Hammond’s forehead creased. “I thought that was all over and done with. Judge Haskins committed the crime.”
“I thought it was over, too. I was wrong.”
“But the police found the bloodstained gloves at his home. And the man killed himself.”
“The man had a lot to feel guilty about. Paying someone to set that fire, for instance. But he wasn’t feeling remorse about the murder of Victoria Danvers. Because he didn’t do it.”
“But he put the gun in his mouth—”
“The shame of having people think he was a murderer—wrongfully—may well have contributed to his suicide. The gloves were planted in his home.”
“How could anyone know the police would be coming to search?”
“Because the murderer—the real one—knew I was going to expose Haskins as an arsonist on the floor of the Senate. And he figured that once people swallowed that, it would be a short hop in the public eye from arsonist to murderer. Which it was.”
Hammond’s back stiffened for a moment, then he slowly settled back into his chair. “How did you figure it out?”
Ben shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. Not once I heard the name of the man Victoria killed all those years ago after the Boston museum robbery. Not once I heard he was buried in your hometown. You told me about the loss of your son, how it devastated you, all those years ago. You even told me you named him Hieronymous Carroll—and that you loved Latin. I guess your son did, too. Because Hieronymous is the Latinate form of Jerome. And Carroll is Latin for Charles. Hieronymous Carroll became Jerome Charles. He never took your last name because he was born out of wedlock. That’s why most people didn’t know about him. That’s why even now, his disappearance hasn’t been linked to you. But I figured it out. And then I confirmed it by talking with Ray Eastwick. Your former clerk.”
Hammond’s eyes slowly drifted downward. “He was raised by his mother, a sweet little thing from a good family in Beaumont, Texas. Rich as the devil. But married. And she had no use for me, other than as an occasional plaything.” He sighed heavily. “I thought she’d be a good mother to him. But apparently I was wrong, given the way he turned out. They had some disagreement, she cut him off, and he turned to crime to keep himself in the style to which he had become accustomed.”
Hammond turned his face upward to keep his eyes from spilling. “I loved that boy, in my own way. Only child I ever had. I kept an eye on him from a distance—she wanted it that way. Too distant, as it turned out. Next thing I knew, he’d vanished into the European underworld without a trace. Got messed up with some art thieves. And then he disappeared—until he turned up dead. No one knew what had happened to him. So I hired a detective to find out. Took the man years to piece it all together. That woman—Victoria Danvers—had not left many clues behind. Smart. She was a philosophy major, did you know that, Ben?”
“No,” he said quietly.
“How does someone go from being a philosophy major to being a coldhearted killer? It was incomprehensible. But true. The detective finally found some snitch who put him on the right track. He identified Danvers.”
“But Senator—why murder?”
“She killed him, Ben.” His voice reacquired some of its usual fire. “Killed him in cold blood. Killed him mean. Some kind of falling-out after the Boston job. He got greedy, probably, and she challenged him. I don’t doubt that he did something to provoke her irritation. But she murdered him. Murdered the only son I ever had. Ever would have. More than that—she punished him. She was deliberately cruel, hurting him long after he had any ability to defend himself. Dragging his face in the gravel. She mutilated him, Ben. So I started looking for her, without success. Hired even more detectives to find her, but they couldn’t. I understand why, now. She’d changed her name, changed her whole appearance. Even changed her damn fingerprints. After a while, I almost started to forget—or at least to not obsess over it every day and night.”
“What changed?”
Hammond wiped away the tears that streaked his face. “Where I come from, we were taught that murder is wrong, no matter what the circumstances. We were also taught, an eye for an eye.”
“You recognized her at the press conference.”
Hammond nodded. “The detective had shown me photos of the woman. No amount of plastic surgery was going to fool me. Her face was burned into my brain. Knew her the second I saw her. Felt it in my gut. And she didn’t deny it, either. She laughed at me, wanted to know what I was going to do about it. And—and—I don’t know what happened to me. Something just broke. Something inside me. I saw the gloves and the garden shears and I grabbed them and—well, you know the rest. I didn’t have time to hide the body, so I did just the opposite. Put the body where it was certain to be found.”
“And certain to divert suspicion to Thaddeus and Ray.”
Hammond looked down, his face somber. “I like to think that if the police had ever gotten serious about charging either one of them, I would’ve come forward.” He paused. “But I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
“You didn’t seem to have any problem framing Judge Haskins.”
Hammond laughed bitterly. “The man caused a fire that could’ve killed hundreds of people. If he wasn’t a murderer, it was only by happenstance. I didn’t have any moral qualms about pinning the murder on his sorry little ass.”
Ben rubbed his eyes. It had been a long day. And it wasn’t over yet. “Thank you for telling the truth.”
Hammond looked away. “Sounds as if you knew most of it already anyway.”
Ben nodded sadly. “You don’t know how much this pains me, Senator. You’ve been my mentor—at times, my only friend in Washington. I wish there was some alternative. But there isn’t. I’m going to have to tell the authorities.”
Hammond drew in a deep breath, wiped his face again. “No, Ben. I don’t think you will.”
“What—is that a threat?”
“Of course not. I just know that you’re a reasonable man.”
“You can’t imagine that I’m going to keep silent just because we’re friends.”
“No, son. I think you’re going to remain silent because I’m the Minority Leader of the Senate. And in a year, I just might be the Majority Leader. And you don’t want to screw that up.”
Ben stared at him uncomprehendingly. “You must have mistaken me for someone who cares about politics a good deal more than I do.”
“Really. And does that pretty little fiancée of yours feel the same way?”
Ben stopped short.
“You know, if I’m not in the Senate, that Wilderness Bill your little filly cares so much about will go down in flames. Will never get out of committee, in fact.”
“What are you saying?”
“Just a simple fact. If I go down, so does the Alaskan wilderness. How will Christina feel about that? And how will she feel when she finds out it was your fault?”
“Christina will understand.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. How will you feel about it? Do you want to see oil rigs in our last unblemished wilderness?”
“You know I don’t.”
“For that matter, what about the antipoverty bill? That’ll go down in flames if I leave the Senate. The education bill? History. Fifty million dollars to fund education in the state of Oklahoma alone—gone. All thanks to you.”
“I won’t listen to this.”
“I know you care about the death penalty. This is the time to strike. I could get an anti–death penalty bill passed if you like, and with Thaddeus on the Supreme Court, it’ll be upheld. Don’t you see, Ben? You need me to keep my job.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Ben said, pacing agitatedly behind his desk. “This is a question of justice.”
“Is it? Is it just that all those people living below the poverty line should
go on suffering so you can fulfill some quixotic quest to punish a man for executing the career criminal who murdered his only son? Does that really make sense to you?”
Ben ran his fingers through his hair. “This—this is all confusing and—and irrelevant. What it comes down to, is—”
“I’ll tell you what it comes down to, son.” Hammond rose to his feet. “What it comes down to is what do you care about most? Your sense of justice? Or Christina? Because if you care one whit for that girl, you won’t let the projects she cares so much about and has worked so hard on go down in flames.”
Ben felt an ache in the pit of his stomach. His head throbbed. He felt hot, stifled. He desperately wanted to be gone, anywhere but here.
“It’s a simple decision, Ben,” Hammond continued, in the same even, measured tones. “Lock up an old man. Or save the world. What’s it going to be?”
Ben closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, then opened them. He walked to Hammond and stood barely an inch away from him. “Listen to me, Senator. And listen very closely. You will not always be the Senate Minority Leader. You will not always be a senator at all. And the second that you’re not—I’ll be waiting for you.” He paused a moment, then added, “There’s no statute of limitations on murder.”
The corner of Hammond’s mouth turned up slightly. He stepped toward the door. “I guess we understand each other.”
“I guess we do.”
“I’m sorry it had to be this way, Ben.”
“Not as sorry as I am.”
“Don’t take it personally, son. It isn’t personal. It’s politics.”
And he closed the door behind him.
63
Christina arrived at the office at the usual time, and was more than startled to see that Ben was already there.
“Now this is a surprise,” she said. “What on earth brings you to the office at the appropriate time of the morning?”
Ben rose from his desk and smiled. “I had a lot of plans to make.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Because I’ve got a list a foot long of things you need to do. Your mother called—you forgot her birthday again. And Loving wants to take an extended vacation. Evidently he’s got a new flame, someone named Trudy. I told him he could go, but I also said I’d be pretty irritated if he got married before I did. He just laughed; don’t ask me why.” She took a deep breath. “And there is that minor matter of whether you’re going to run for reelection.”
Ben walked around his desk and clasped both her hands. “You got a free hour or so?”
“Are you joking? I don’t have a free minute. I’m supposed to meet Senator Hammond before I—” She paused. “Which reminds me. Someone told me he came to your office last night. What did he want?”
Ben barely hesitated a moment. “Nothing important. Just tying up some loose ends.”
“Nothing bad about the Wilderness Bill?”
“Of course not.”
“That’s a relief.” She glanced down at her book. “But I still have a packed morning. I’ve got to meet with the administrative assistant for the—”
Ben pulled her close to him. “How would you feel about going on a little trip?”
“Huh?”
“I thought we might go visit Tad.”
“Tad? Tad Roush? Are you crazy? The Court is in session.”
“I called ahead. He’ll be waiting for us.”
“Why?”
Ben pulled her even closer, till they were practically nose-to-nose. “Christina—how would you feel about being married by a justice of the Supreme Court?”
Christina’s lips parted. For a brief moment, she didn’t even speak. “By—what—?” She tried again. “You mean, get married to you?”
“That was what I had in mind, yes.”
“You mean—now?”
“Can you think of a better time?”
“But this is awfully sudden.”
“Is it? Seems like this relationship has been dragging on for several novel-length years.”
“I meant sudden as measured in Ben Kincaid time.” She smiled softly, then touched the side of his cheek. “Are you going to run for reelection?”
“Does it matter? No matter what we decide to do, we’ll be…partners.”
Her crystal blue eyes sparkled. “Partners?” she said breathlessly. “Really? Partners?”
He pressed his nose against hers. “Till death do us part.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
WILLIAM BERNHARDT is the author of many novels, including Primary Justice, Murder One, Criminal Intent, Death Row, Hate Crime, Dark Eye, and Capitol Murder. He has twice won the Oklahoma Book Award for Best Fiction, and in 2000 he was presented the H. Louise Cobb Distinguished Author Award “in recognition of an outstanding body of work in which we understand ourselves and American society at large.” A former trial attorney, Bernhardt has received several awards for his public service. He lives in Tulsa, and readers can e-mail him at [email protected] or visit his website at www.williambernhardt.com.
Also by WILLIAM BERNHARDT
FEATURING BEN KINCAID
Primary Justice
Blind Justice
Deadly Justice
Perfect Justice
Cruel Justice
Naked Justice
Extreme Justice
Dark Justice
Silent Justice
Murder One
Criminal Intent
Death Row
Hate Crime
Capitol Murder
OTHER NOVELS
The Code of Buddyhood
Double Jeopardy
The Midnight Before Christmas
Final Round
Dark Eye
EDITED BY WILLIAM BERNHARDT
Legal Briefs
Natural Suspect
FOR YOUNG READERS
Equal Justice: The Courage of Ada Sipuel
(with Kim Henry)
Capitol Threat is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2007 by William Bernhardt
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
BALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bernhardt, William.
Capitol threat : a novel / by William Bernhardt.
p. cm.
1. Kincaid, Ben (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Legislators—United States—Fiction. 3. United States. Supreme Court—Officials and employees—Selection and appointment—Fiction. 4. Libel and slander—Fiction. 5. Washington (D.C.)—Fiction. 6. Political fiction. I. Title.
PS3552.E73147C39 2007
813'.54—dc22 2006048503
www.ballantinebooks.com
eISBN: 978-0-345-49805-2
v3.0
Capitol Threat Page 36
