Stabbing in the Senate

by Colleen J. Shogan

  Two steps away from my mark, Detective O’Halloran moseyed on up to me and smiled wryly. “Well, if it isn’t my first and only suspect.”

  “Well, if it isn’t my favorite Capitol Hill police detective.” It was a smart aleck retort, but O’Halloran was screwing up my plan.

  “Nicely put, Ms. Marshall. It’s unfortunate we keep meeting under less than pleasant circumstances.”

  “I agree, Detective. If we were no longer acquainted, I would assume someone had managed to solve my boss’s murder.” I deliberately said “someone” instead of “you.” He’d get the drift.

  “That’s true. I haven’t yet identified the origins of the blond strand of hair, which remains our one physical clue in the case.” O’Halloran grabbed a mushroom cap stuffed with crabmeat and crammed it into his mouth.

  I tried to ignore the juice dribbling down the side of his chin. After all, who was I to judge?

  “Can I infer you’re not any closer to apprehending the killer?” Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, I fiddled with my glass of mimosa and took another sip.

  “If you’re asking whether we’re ready to make an arrest, the answer is no. When you can’t find the person who committed the crime, it makes sense to work backward and eliminate those who couldn’t have committed the crime first. That’s our process. But it’s time consuming.” O’Halloran sighed, then in one swift move, nabbed the last grilled chicken skewer from a server who darted past us. If O’Halloran had been as quick on the uptake working the case as he was with scoring food, this murder mystery would have been sewn up days ago.

  “That’s an interesting perspective, Detective. Have you eliminated a number of suspects at this point in time?” Now it was my turn to seize the day. I lifted a fresh mimosa off a tray and took a long drink.

  His eyes narrowed. My question was exceedingly obvious. The champagne, whatever brand it was, had emboldened me a little too much.

  “A few, Ms. Marshall. One individual of interest was out of town, which makes it impossible for him to be the guilty party. Others appear to have substantiated alibis, but we’re still in the process of verifying.” He turned the tables on me. “I might ask you a similar question. Have you discovered anything?” I assumed O’Halloran didn’t want to state outright that he knew we’d been investigating the case.

  It was time to let O’Halloran know what I had unearthed thus far, though it wasn’t much. It certainly hadn’t led me to the killer, at least not yet. I sipped my second mimosa, took a deep breath, and looked around to see if anyone was listening. Just to be safe, I lowered my voice and leaned closer to O’Halloran.

  “To tell you the truth, I haven’t been able to figure out who killed Senator Langsford. My biggest hunch is it has something to do with Carter Power. Langsford was going to defund the company, and everyone who’s a suspect wanted the deal to go through. But Senator Regan claims he has an alibi, and so does Jeff Prentice. Even though I feel like Carter Power is the answer, I can’t seem to connect it to the murder.”

  O’Halloran looked at me with sympathetic eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up too much, kid. This is a nasty business, and it’s up to the police to figure out who killed the senator. We’ve looked into the Carter Power angle, too, and it’s a dead end. Everyone associated with it has an alibi.” Dejectedly, he chomped into a mini quiche Lorraine. O’Halloran’s incessant nibbling was contagious. I grabbed a bacon-wrapped scallop off the next tray that zipped past.

  After chewing the scallop and swallowing, I mumbled a barely coherent “Delicious.” Once I could speak clearly, I said, “I have this nagging feeling the answer is right in front of me, but I can’t put my finger on it.” I looked at O’Halloran directly. “It keeps coming back whenever I think hard about the case.” I shrugged. “Maybe I’m crazy, and it means nothing.” I took the final drink of my second mimosa and placed the empty glass on a tray.

  O’Halloran was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his tone was deadly serious. “Listen, Ms. Marshall. I’m not sure what your brain is trying to tell you, but I’ve been in the police business for over twenty years. Ninety-nine percent of the time, when investigators get that type of strong feeling, they’re this close,” he held his index finger and thumb an inch apart, “to solving the crime. Now, let’s face it. You’re not a professional.” He paused to give me a condescending smile. “I have no idea what the source of this feeling is. It might be nothing. But on the off chance it’s something, as soon as your revelation surfaces, I want you to call me, pronto. Do you understand that?”

  I said I did. O’Halloran gave me his card, even though he’d provided one earlier in the week. “You take an extra card, just in case. I’m not holding out great hope here. I don’t need to remind you that if you put the pieces of the puzzle together and the wrong person finds out about it, you could be in a whole lot of danger.”

  He couldn’t know about the phone call I’d received last night. Should I come clean about the threat? I bit my tongue; it was best to stick to the plan and see if more clues emerged. If I told the detective about the anonymous warning, he’d either forbid me from further investigating or he might think I was lying to cast suspicion on someone else. Either scenario was no good.

  I thanked Detective O’Halloran profusely for his time and concern and reassured him that if the little voice in my head started to speak to me, I’d call him right away. I put his card in the zippered compartment of my purse so I wouldn’t lose it.

  The timing with O’Halloran was perfect, since fewer people were now surrounding Lucinda. Despite O’Halloran’s conclusion, the Carter Power deal was still our best lead. How many people were aware of Senator Langsford’s impending decision? Matt had sworn me to secrecy. I almost always did what I was told, so I’d let no one know, even Meg. However, I doubted Lucinda had followed the same strict guidelines.

  Lucinda had no drink in hand, but she looked like she needed one. After I asked if she’d like a mimosa, her face brightened considerably. That was a “yes.” I dashed off and secured a glass for her in seconds. I also found a bottle of Perrier for myself, which would provide necessary hydration. Lapses in judgment due to alcohol consumption happened every day in D.C. I wondered if Meg was right and the drinks were really made with Dom Perignon. Whatever the vintner, those who had poured the cocktails hadn’t been stingy with the champagne. It was still shy of noon. A teetotaler I was not, yet I did have my standards. And I had a job to do.

  That said, this conversation would go much better if Lucinda loosened up. I placed my hand gently on her arm. “How are you holding up? You must have been under tremendous strain these past few days.”

  After taking an extended sip, Lucinda replied, “Why, thank you, Kit. It’s kind of you to say.” She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “It’s been a difficult time. Of course, I knew Lyndon for many years, so I’m mourning the loss of a friend. And then there’s everything tied to the Senate office and the necessity to keep it running while the governor selects a successor. It’s been almost too much to bear.” She took another generous chug of her mimosa.

  Lucinda had steered the conversation exactly in the right direction. “The pressures at work are just the icing on the cake, aren’t they?” I said. “For example, I’m trying to wrap up the senator’s commitments on committees, and there’s this nagging issue of Carter Power. It’s so hard to know who I can talk to about it—besides you and Matt, of course.”

  Lucinda straightened her glasses, eager to return to her role of supervising policy strategy. “To tell you the truth, Kit, I wouldn’t be too worried about whom you discuss Senator Langsford’s position on Carter Power with.”

  This wasn’t a big surprise to me, but I deliberately plastered an astonished expression on my face. “Really? I’m confused. When Senator Langsford was still alive, Matt told me his decision concerning Carter Power should be kept strictly under wraps, that I couldn’t tell any staffer in the office or colleagues in the Senate.”

 
Lucinda took another big drink of the mimosa. Most likely, she hadn’t had too much to eat today. That champagne was going right to her head. I’d make sure she had water and food right after we finished our conversation.

  “Well, that’s true. We didn’t want the decision leaking all over town. Just like anything in Washington, though, I had to make exceptions.”

  I looked at Lucinda directly. “Just how many exceptions did you make, Lucinda?” I didn’t want to sound accusatory, but I needed Lucinda to ’fess up about the names of those who were aware of Langsford’s leanings.

  If my tone was overly emphatic, Lucinda didn’t appear to pick up on it. Maybe the mimosa had taken the edge off. Either way, she answered without reservation, “Oh, I can’t remember exactly. I did tell that handsome lobbyist for Carter Power. What’s his name again?” Jeff had tipped us off that Lucinda had been his source, but it was still shocking to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

  “You told Jeff Prentice?”

  She nodded. “I had to give Jeff a heads up. It wouldn’t have been very nice to drop this on Carter Power at the hearing.”

  I turned my head away so Lucinda wouldn’t see the anguish on my face. Senator Langsford had wanted to do exactly that; he had planned for his vote at the committee mark-up session to serve as a surprise so he wouldn’t have to answer questions about his position beforehand.

  “But Lucinda, I thought the senator didn’t want his position made public prior to the hearing?” I didn’t want to sound whiny, although I clearly didn’t understand her political calculus.

  Lucinda didn’t hesitate. “That’s true. But going public with his decision is different than telling a few close friends. Senator Regan was one of Lyndon’s closest friends in the Senate. He couldn’t just drop that bombshell on him. It was up to me to keep everything under wraps while informing a select group of people.”

  That explanation was helpful, but something still didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t she told Regan directly, rather than Jeff Prentice? How big was this “need to know” group?

  “This select group of people, just who are they? You already said Senator Regan and Jeff Prentice. Anyone else?”

  Lucinda put her finger up to her chin, seemingly deep in thought. After a few seconds, she said, “That sounds about right. Oh, but of course, Vivian knew, and so did Mandy Lippman. And you and Matt, as well. I think that’s it.”

  I scratched my head. “Why Mandy Lippman? And why Vivian?”

  “Mandy was our press person. We had to inform her so she could devise a plan to roll out the decision after he went public. It was going to be controversial, as you know. We needed an entire press strategy to combat the potentially negative coverage. Mandy deplored the decision because it was going to be a big headache for her.”

  Lucinda took another sip. “Vivian had been keeping close tabs on the senator regarding his decision. Between you and me,” Lucinda leaned in closer, “the senator hadn’t been very forthcoming to his wife.”

  I leaned in closer, practically whispering the question, “Why, Lucinda?”

  She pulled back and looked at me. “Don’t be so naïve, Kit. Do you see this beautiful house we’re in right now? Mrs. Langsford brought all the money into the marriage. After Senator Langsford got elected to the Senate, Mrs. Langsford kept complete financial control. Nothing was signed over to Senator Langsford. That way, she could continue to monitor her investments in any manner she chose. Those assets weren’t jointly owned.” She put down her empty drink and instantly scored another from a passing waiter.

  Lucinda hadn’t finished her diatribe. “Vivian might seem like a bubblehead, but appearances are deceiving. Yes, she inherited money from her family. But she’s retained that wealth her entire life and added to it. She’s done that by keeping a close eye on the stocks she’s owned over the years. Carter Power has been a significant part of her investment portfolio for decades. Senator Langsford, of course, knew this and kept as much information as possible from his wife. He felt that, ethically, he should stay tight-lipped on this matter.”

  I pulled away from Lucinda. “But you didn’t feel the same? That you had to stay silent about Carter Power to Vivian?” My harsh question seemed to annoy Lucinda.

  “Kit, this is a complicated matter. You may not know it, but I was friends with Vivian before she married Lyndon Langsford. My loyalties run deep with the Langsfords, and they run deepest with Vivian. Giving her a quick ‘heads up’ before the committee’s action was the least I could do. She was the one who suggested me for Lyndon’s chief of staff position in the first place. I had to let her know which way her husband was leaning.”

  Lucinda’s reasoning sounded unethical, but I didn’t have the time to conduct a full-scale moral inquiry into the supposed long-term relationship between Vivian Langsford and Lucinda. I remembered the phone call Trevor had talked about days ago. It must have been Lucinda warning Vivian that Senator Langsford had made his decision concerning Carter Power.

  After ending our conversation on a more congenial note, I left Lucinda and headed down the hallway to the powder room. It was the only place I could get some privacy and sort through what I had just learned.

  Luckily, the bathroom was unoccupied. I looked into the mirror and congratulated myself that my makeup still looked fresh. After reapplying lipstick, I rested on the settee. More people had known about Langsford’s pending Carter Power decision than I’d thought. As far as I could tell, only two people actually supported the senator’s position on Carter Power, and that was Matt and myself. Everyone else wanted Langsford to change his mind. I still thought our murderer came from that group. Someone had detested Senator Langsford’s decision enough—or had enough to lose—that he or she felt it was worth killing for.

  Lucinda had given me another tidbit that increased my interest in Mrs. Langsford. If she was so heavily invested in Carter Power that her husband’s actions could have bankrupted her, she might have decided murder was the only option. Due to strict regulations and onerous reporting requirements, selling her shares was out of the question, unless she wanted to end up in federal prison like Martha Stewart.

  Speaking with Vivian was my top priority.

  I unlocked the door and peeked out. I headed back into the dining room, where the reception was still going strong, and spotted Mrs. Langsford. She had managed to break free from the hordes of mourners and was speeding toward Senator Langsford’s study. This might be my only opportunity to catch her alone.

  I had begun to walk across the room when one of Senator Langsford’s longtime friends recognized me. At the senator’s request, I helped him several years ago when he was trying to increase federal funding for a rare disease his daughter had contracted. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what that disease was. There had been too many funding requests over the years for the eradication of terrible afflictions. After we locked eyes, I couldn’t avoid him. Sure enough, he flagged me down, and I stopped to chat with him. I was terse with him while trying not to sound rude, all the while aware that I was missing my opportunity to talk to Vivian.

  Finally, I was able to shake free by telling him I recognized a constituent I needed to speak with. I headed over to Senator Langsford’s study and opened the door. This was the second time this week I had burst into a room unannounced. I certainly hadn’t been prepared to find the body of Lyndon Langsford, and I couldn’t believe what I saw this time, either.

  Chapter 23

  In the corner of the study, Mrs. Vivian Langsford was locked in a torrid embrace with a man. When I opened the door, they moved apart. Her lover was a much younger fellow I did not recognize. He was dressed—oddly enough considering this was a wake—in jogging shorts and a tank top. At that precise moment, I realized I had no excuse for barging into Senator Langsford’s study. There were flabbergasted glares all around. Vivian stifled a small scream but recovered almost instantly.

  “Quickly, Kit, come in and shut the door before anyone else can see! Don’t be
a fool,” she hissed.

  I immediately did as I was told, stammering unintelligibly. Senator Langsford’s impressive book collection gave me an idea. “I’m s-so sorry, Mrs. Langsford. I didn’t know anyone was in here. I wanted to see if Senator Langsford had brought my boyfriend Doug’s latest book home with him. He told me he was planning to read it, and I wanted to know if he had managed to look at it before he died.”

  It must have been a good enough lie, because Vivian didn’t challenge me. “Yes, of course, dear. He mentioned a short time ago that he’d read Doug’s book. Kit, I’d like you to meet my personal trainer, Henrik. He’s originally from Estonia.” She seemed proud to tell me Henrik’s origins. She let her hand linger on his naked left bicep as she introduced us.

  Call me old fashioned, but something bothered me about having a social conversation with my dead boss’s widow and her beefcake trainer boyfriend. Her interest in Henrik was self-explanatory. He was about six feet tall with wavy dark hair, muscular and ruggedly handsome. Mrs. Langsford was about two decades his senior, although I had to admit she was looking darn good. Maybe Henrik was an unusually talented personal trainer. It didn’t matter since I doubted he was taking on new clients.

  “Pleased to meet you, Henrik,” I mumbled.

  Vivian must have sensed my obvious discomfort with the situation. She addressed me with a knowing look. “Now, Kit. Let’s be adults here. My affair with Henrik may not have been common knowledge, but it was far from the equivalent of a state secret. Lyndon knew Henrik and I had a relationship that went beyond trainer and client.”

  I swallowed hard. “You mean Senator Langsford was aware of your affair?”

  Mrs. Langsford laughed as she walked next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. “Of course. Don’t get so upset about it. How long have you been with Doug, dear?”

  I told her just over five years.

  She tittered at my response. “Let’s talk again when you’re going on twenty years together and your lover is married to his job. Don’t get me wrong. Lyndon wasn’t thrilled with my extracurricular activities. Still, he understood.” She gave Henrik a long, lascivious look.