Shadows and Lies

by Ronald Watkins

  Which raised another question. What the hell was someone like Lily doing so closely associated with the White House? Becky had seemed bothered by him as well, but not that bothered. She'd said nothing about getting rid of the man permanently. And for all of her assurances, Powers wasn't willing to rule Shanken out as the killer, probably using Lily, despite the attack on him and all the double talk about Arabs, Israelis and outside interests.

  The gun he'd been carefully carrying since the night before was meager comfort. As he'd told Becky, if someone was cleaning up loose ends why not him as well?

  And what about Alta? He wasn't in the habit of suspecting women he'd slept with, not that there'd been any others since Gloria's death, but there was the stark fact that she was the only person he'd told about Dorat, and within hours the young woman was dead. What were his real feelings for Alta? If he was unsuspecting, why had he not let her know he had a weapon?

  Powers considered again holing up until this blew over. Given enough time, he'd likely be able to resume his life afterward. Then again, maybe not. Could he ever be certain someone wouldn't come for him in the dead of night and slip a plastic bag over his head?

  No, the only way to end this was to see it through. But the irony there was that the more he learned, the more dangerous that knowledge was to him.

  What was the point of such thinking? He already knew too much. Last night was proof enough of that. It was no longer a question of helping Becky. He had to see this through for his own survival. And he believed he saw a way to bring the ending this very tonight, certainly no later than tomorrow. Well, it couldn't come too soon. Working the docks along the river shore in St. Louis without backup or living a year with the enemy in deep cover was a piece of cake compared to this.

  Powers turned back to his notes and thoughts, liking few of the tentative conclusions he reached. He worked with only the steady clicking of a clock standing in the hallway. As he finally lifted his pen from the paper, he couldn't help thinking about the kindly professor. The man had been at the back of his mind ever since their meeting. He picked up the telephone and punched Dr. Kandari's home number. A young woman answered again. "Is Dr. Kandari in, please?" he asked.

  "No. Mr. and Mrs. Kandari have left the country. I am to tell everyone that."

  "Where did they go?"

  "He didn't say and I have no idea."

  Powers considered that for a moment. "I think some people might not believe you. I'd suggest you leave yourself."

  The young woman sounded startled. "I didn't think about... Thank you. I agree. I'm leaving now."

  There was momentary fumbling at the door as Powers replaced the receiver. He moved to the door and eyed the apartment entrance where he watched Alta came in.

  "Hi," she said warmly, as she placed her large black purse on the table by the door and removed her coat. She peered through her water stained glasses at him quizzically. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

  "Of course. You just caught me thinking." Powers walked over and kissed her. She responded warmly then pushed herself away as if concerned she might lose control.

  "That's better," she said with a pixy smile. "Well, I got Mrs. Tufts off. What a chore. It was one thing after another. I'm really concerned she hasn't had time to properly prepare her speech. And she didn't look good. Did you notice?"

  "Yes. She appeared to be under a terrible strain."

  "This is all too much for her. We sat there watching those horrible pictures of the Iraqis dragging that poor man's body through the streets." She shucked her suit jacket. "It makes me sick." Alta turned her bow shaped lips into a smile. "You'll have to fill me in on what you two talked about while I fix us dinner." She stared up at him earnestly. "Is everything all right?"

  "Yes. I was just surprised to see you. With the schedule you keep..."

  "A good surprise, I hope." She vanished into the kitchen. Ten minutes later they were eating sandwiches and vegetable soup at a corner of the long dining room table.

  Alta asked about his conversation with the First Lady, and he gave her an abridged version, figuring anything Becky thought her assistant ought to know she'd told. Finally Alta said, "Mrs. Tufts told me some of what you said to her. I don't mind saying that I was really hurt that you would suspect me of something so... wicked."

  "It was only a question. I have to consider every angle. I'm sorry it was necessary, sorrier still that it bothers you."

  "I suppose you have to keep an open mind about things. That's how a detective works, isn't it? Suspecting everything and everyone. I can see that. And even though we did it, you know, I guess that doesn't mean you can't suspect me along with everyone else. But I didn't have anything to do with that woman's death. I hope you'll believe that."

  "Of course. I've moved on."

  Alta smiled warmly. "That's a relief. Do you mind if I watch some of the convention?" she asked, lifting her plate with its unfinished sandwich.

  The television was concealed inside a walnut cabinet in the living room. The main couch and several comfortable chairs were arranged facing it. Jimmy Carter was speaking as Alta curled up with Powers. The broadcast held her keen interest.

  Carter had aged a lot since Powers had last seen him, but there was no mistaking the man, either his voice or great toothy grin. Democrats, he was saying, were the party that felt the needs of the people, the only party which took the side of the little guy. He was proud to be a Democrat, he said, and Madison Square Garden roared and clapped its approval. Powers couldn't help notice that, at least in the portion of the speech he heard, there was not a word from the publicly moral Jimmy Carter about Tufts.

  Now it was Russell Owens, the Senate minority leader's turn. Tufts’ Republican opponent, Virginia Congressman Hugh Guthers, was a short, cocky expert at the bully pulpit. For months he had been landing body blows on the Tufts' Administration, listing scandal after scandal. He’d even found a clever way to attack the President for America’s lack of military preparedness for the Gulf Crisis while still portraying himself as a patriot. Now it was his turn to take a licking, as the slick Owens portrayed Guthers to be an unethical extremist out to destroy the school lunch program and force the elderly to eat dog food. His torrid speech was laced with crowd pleasing humor, all at Guthers' expense, and Alta squealed her delight.

  "Yeah!" she called out at one salient point, clapping her hands together. "You tell him Russ!"

  Powers couldn't recall the last time he'd misread someone as completely as he had Alta Fort. The woman he was coming to know bore little resemblance to the person he'd first judged her to be. The changes he saw at almost every meeting were quite dramatic.

  When the speech concluded to a roaring applause Powers said, "I'll clean up," as he reached for their empty glasses and her plate.

  "No, I'll do it."

  "In that case I'm taking a shower."

  Alta changed her mind about the dishes because no sooner had Powers begun to soap himself then she slipped into the stall. "You better hang on to me mister. I can't see a goddamn thing in here. You have to show me what you want me to do."

  ~

  It was still evening when Powers lay back on his pillow as Alta snuggled close. "I like this," she murmured. A few minutes late she said, “What’s the scar on your stomach from?”

  “Vietnam. It’s nothing.”

  She traced her finger along his right flank. “And this?”

  “Just some scrapes. I took a fall.”

  “I don’t think you’d get much for your hide if you ever thought about selling it. What’s this down here?” She touched his thigh.

  “Shrapnel.”

  “I guess the war was pretty bad.”

  “In most ways. I was luckier than a lot of others, so I’ve got no complaints.”

  Alta yawned and wiggled herself deeper beside him. “What did you do as a policeman?”

  “The usual things. I was uniform, then was promoted to detective and eventually detective lieutenant.”

&nb
sp; “Bet you looked cute in blue.”

  “That’s what Mom always said.”

  “What did you do as a detective?”

  “Burglary, narcotics, robbery/homicide, special assignments.”

  “Like what?”

  “Liaison with other agencies. Cops fight over turf just like mobsters.”

  “Did you ever arrest any mob guys?”

  “Not personally.”

  “Did you do secret things? Sensitive jobs?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Like what?”

  “The usual things that straddle the line. Like, the mayor’s head of city maintenance was building a house with city construction material. The mayor wasn’t up to another scandal so soon after the last, so I built the case then told the crook I wouldn’t file if he paid full value for what he’d taken and retired forthwith. He got to keep his pension that way, so he took it and the mayor was spared making public explanations.”

  “Shouldn’t you have arrested him?”

  “Most cops would say that. That’s what I meant about the line.”

  “What other jobs did you do like that?”

  “That’s in the past. Done and done.”

  “Did you... you know.”

  “What?”

  “With a gun. Did you...?”

  “Did I shoot anyone? Yes, but I’m not talking about it and just to make certain I’m changing the subject. It’s shop talk I’m afraid. Are you up for it?”

  “Uh-huh, if I don’t have to think too hard. I rather hear about the guy you shot.”

  “Guys. You’ve got a fair measure of blood lust in you, girl. You never cease to amaze me. I understand that Martin Karp and Becky are long associates and friends. What’s his position with the President?"

  She roused herself a bit before answering. "Obviously they work together pretty good. Mr. Tufts is a hard man to work for, if you know what I mean."

  "I'm not sure I do."

  "He's got a terrible temper for one thing. He doesn't like for anyone to disagree with him and he hates receiving bad news. He likes thinking he's the smartest one in the room and all the bright ideas are supposed to come from him. I've been in meetings were Marty suggested something and the President shot it down, then a week later he'll say he's got a good idea and float the same one. Everyone has to act like they never heard it before. I guess Marty's become used to it like the rest of us."

  "Are the two of them close?"

  "I wouldn't call them friends exactly."

  "What I'm getting at is, could Karp have an agenda with the President, unknown to Becky?"

  Alta raised her head from his shoulder. "I wouldn't... What are you saying?"

  "I'm not saying anything. I'm asking."

  She sat up. Her small firm breasts scarcely moved. "They talk in private a lot. I've never given it much consideration. If you're asking me could Marty be up to something with the President, and Mrs. Tufts not know, I'd say that's very unlikely, if not downright impossible. She knows everything." Alta lay back down.

  Powers ran his hand along the fine texture of her skin. He had never given any thought after the death of Gloria as to when he might resume a relationship with another woman. If someone had asked, he would have answered he doubted he ever would. It was odd how life worked, how the need for intimacy inherent in nearly everyone could awaken at the most peculiar times. His wife would have wished for him to move on with his life, but he doubted she would approve of this. It was too quick, too physical, too soon. And she'd be right.

  Alta interrupted his thinking. "You know they're lovers, don't you?"

  For an instant Powers thought she meant the President and Karp. "You mean Becky and Karp?"

  "Yeah. I wasn't going to say anything in case you didn't figure it out on your own. Now I think you should know, so you understand how close they are. Don't think less of her for it. The President is shameless with his hussies. There's two on staff. We call them Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, because they are interchangeable blonds. I think they've had a little “enhancement” upstairs, if you know what I mean. And Marei wasn't the only steady girlfriend he keeps on the side. He's been seeing," she named one of the Kennedy clan, "for a long time. It's pretty open. Mrs. Tufts has had to find love where she can. So I wouldn't be concerned about Marty double dealing her. If he knows something, she knows it."

  "I'm not here to judge, but that doesn't sound like a very healthy way to live."

  "It's hard on her, that's true. I can see it. I know she almost didn't call you for help because she feared you'd find out. Your opinion is very important to her. I told her if you were really a friend, you'd understand, and she said that you were."

  "How does she deal with having those women under her feet? I just don't see how she can cope with it."

  "She compartmentalizes, I guess. I know that's what I do. You do what you have to, when you have to, and focus only on the task at hand. She puts it out of her mind most of the time." Alta laughed.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. I was just thinking that some time when she thinks he's being brazen she fires one of his women. That's sort of a way to deal with it I guess. Of course, he never says a thing about it. If you ask me, I think he's afraid of her."

  "Why bother with the women on staff? The real problem is her husband."

  "You're right of course. I think, like a lot of women in her place, she blames the girlfriends as much or more than she does her husband. You should see how they throw themselves at him, often when Mrs. Tufts is right there. Actresses, singers, models. Some of the most desired women in the world. I guess it would be hard for any man to resist all the time. I know he doesn't try very often. By confronting the girlfriends she doesn't have to deal with him about it. Anyway, I think she's tried that and it didn't do any good. I remember she fired one of Karp's new lawyers when she learned she and her husband were up to it. It got pretty ugly. They were shoving each other back and forth, pulling hair, just like at school. In other circumstances it would have been funny. I was really shocked the gal would lay a hand on the First Lady. Marty had to break it up and got scratched for his trouble. Thank God that one never got into the press."

  Powers visualized the scene in the White House for a moment. "Alta, if I ask you something will you tell me the truth? If you can't answer, I won't press you but if you do answer, tell me the truth? Okay?"

  She squirmed beside him as she thought about it. "All right. I think I can do that."

  "What were you hunting for in Julie Marei's apartment?"

  She was startled by the question, so startled that her spontaneous answer came in the accent he'd suspected she'd worked to end. It was Appalachian, dirt poor and uneducated. She'd come a long way in her short life, much further than he’d realized. For the first time, Powers felt he understood what drove her. "I didn' thank you noticed. You're so busy bein' the detective an' all."

  "What was it?"

  Alta didn't answer for a long time then said very softly in her trained speech, "Don't be mad, okay? I just can't, and I don't want to lie. It's nothing that effects what you're doing. Please, Danny, don't be mad. I just couldn't stand it."

  "All right. I'll accept that for now. There's something else I need to ask and I hope you'll be forthright about it with me. I'm concerned so many people involved in this investigation are being murdered."

  "Me too! God, I was really scared last night." She didn't speak again for a long minute. "But I can't really say I'm surprised about the deaths."

  Powers was suddenly very alert. "I don't follow you."

  "I like you. You must know that, don't you? I'm not someone who does this easily, or very often. I like you a lot. More than I ever believed I would. Too much I think. You have to keep this to yourself, Danny. Promise you will. It would hurt me so much if Mrs. Tufts ever even suspected I'd said anything about this to you, and I think I'd just die if she fired me. Promise me."

  "I promise."

  "All right then. I'm trusting
you. Let's see. How do I say this so you understand it? Okay, I've got it. The President was governor a long time. It was pretty rough and tumble if you know what I mean. It's always been like that down there. You don't want to hike where you aren't welcome because the shiners will just shoot you on sight. That's the way it is. Too many people can get rich from influencing those in power, to take politics lightly. It's life and death for some of them."

  "What are you getting at?"

  "There's been stories about it, so I'm not saying anything that isn't already known. Just confirming it I guess. People down there died some time. They'd disappear or they'd be found dead. It happened.”

  “You mean people involved with the governor?"

  "Uh-huh. Some of them. There was a reporter who covered the legislature and he drowned on a fishing trip. Almost everybody believed he was killed because he was researching a story on that bond arbitrage deal. The President's first campaign manager, Clyde Grissom, was shot dead downtown late one night. It was near a prostitute pickup area, gays, so the official story was one of those men he'd picked up had killed him. But he wasn't that way. I knew. You asked about Marty and the President? I think they had some of those people killed."

  "What are you telling me, Alta?"

  "Only when there is no other way out, when things are just too much, I think they arranged for accidents.'"

  Powers didn't know how to respond. She was saying it so off handily. "You know this for a fact?"

  "I've heard, and I believe it. Sometimes I think people didn't give them much choice. You asked about Chesty before? I wasn't entirely honest. He's the one who set them up, I think. He probably even did some of those people himself."

  "Shanken's an assassin?"

  Alta nodded her head against him lightly. "Sometimes. He's really pretty decent I think, but he does do things like that if it’s necessary. Chesty was in the Army for years, did field work all over the world for the NSA, and it caused him to see things differently than most people. I know I was really shocked when I first realized what he was up to. I don't know it for a fact but I think that's what Lily's about. Remember before, when I told you Chesty hired him? Well, the truth is I really don't know who wanted him on board. I don't think Chesty likes Lily very much. I know he doesn't trust him."