The Raft
Page 30
Chapter 18
The interview had satisfied Galahad, but he was not happy. He had his confession on tape, but using it in court without needlessly smearing the Senator would require some creative editing.
Maggie didn't care, Rachael certainly didn't. Neither waited around for a thank you. Maggie was antsy to leave the County Jail. Yi offered her a ride back to West Point, but Maggie declined. Instead, the Detective Sargent handed her his business card. Maggie absentmindedly put it in her jeans pocket.
“Rachael, buy me dinner,” Maggie demanded as they were walking towards the elevators. It was almost seven o'clock and they were both understandably starving. They'd eaten nothing since their early lunch aboard the Geoduck. “Is DiJulio's still there at the corner of 1st?”
Rachael nodded. “At least I think so,” she said. Rachael so seldom had reason to eat out downtown anymore.
“Great, let's walk, it's a nice evening,” Maggie said with a smile. Rachael was too preoccupied to argue. Horus's confession was turning over in her head.
Out in the summer evening air, Maggie and Rachael descended the five blocks down James Street until it intersected with Pioneer Square. At the point of the triangle formed by James, Yesler, and 2nd was an old Skid Road bar turned Italian Trattoria. It was early enough that most of the window tables were empty. Rachael and Maggie stepped inside and were quickly seated. The waiter was prompt with a carafe of chianti.
“To your health,” Maggie toasted and took a long gulp from her glass. Her mood seemed light. Rachael's mood, however, was decidedly overcast.
“I'm going to go to press with this story,” Rachael said, scanning the menu and ignoring Maggie's toast.
“What's that?” Maggie said casually, turning her attention to the antipasto selection.
“Senator Hadian and Meerkat. After listening to Horus back there, I'm convinced. Horus's accusations, the presence of the police on his boat before Meerkat's body was found. It all fits together. There's a story there, I can feel it.”
“You want there to be a story there, you mean.” Maggie sipped at her wine. “You're itching for any dirt on the Senator. You have been since Chemical mentioned his name back on the deck of the Soft Cell.”
“Look, just because you can't go the distance against Hadian,” Rachael began, snidely.
“What was that?” Maggie looked up from her menu.
“Just because of what he said to you back there about the Raft... it doesn't mean that I have to give him a free pass.”
“What do you..?” Maggie began, then furrowed her brow.
“After Horus's testimony, I think I have enough for a story.”
“Rachael.” Maggie shifted in her seat. “What did Horus really tell you?”
“The police aboard the Straight Dope, the two hundred grand in cash. Is there any other possible explanation?”
Maggie chuckled and picked up her wine glass. “Oh yes, plenty.”
“Maggie!” Rachael growled in frustration.
“Rachael, calm down. You're letting your personal hatred for Hadian interfere with your judgment. Just because he's a horrible human being doesn't make him a murderer. And just because Horus back there believes the Senator killed Meerkat, practically proves his innocence.”
“Innocence?” Rachael fumed. She took a breath, remembered her wine glass and took a drink. “I don't follow,” Rachael asked more calmly.
“Horus thinks the Senator killed Meerkat because he thinks that they were having an affair. But that we know not to be true.”
“Do we?”
“Of course, Tea Queen said that Meerkat was actually onshore for rehab.”
“If Meerkat wasn't lying to Tea Queen.”
“Well, sure, but which of those two explanations is a few orders of magnitude more likely to be true? And we'll know in absolute certainty when the coroner's report is complete. If Meerkat was pregnant, then there's some potential validity to Horus's story, but if she wasn't... No, the question we should ask right now is not if Meerkat was lying about Senator Hadian, but why she would tell such an outrageous lie.”
“To smear Senator Hadian,” Rachael realized. “To throw blood in the water for sharks like me.” She leaned back in her chair and pinched her eyes with finger and thumb. She was acting like a fool, she could see it now. Behaving unprofessionally. The whole interview with the Senator had just set her off. With Maggie acting so meek and the Senator's bullying. A whole new level of hatred for the Senator had risen up inside Rachael. It was clouding her judgment. On top of the political opportunism, Rachael now wanted to hit the Senator hard for being so vile to Maggie, so hateful about her chosen way of life.
But Maggie hadn't risen to the bait, she'd kept her objectivity, even suffering through a painful dressing down to do so.
Suddenly, Rachael felt horrible for everything she'd thought about Maggie back in the SUV. Now she was disgusted with herself for being disgusted with Maggie. Maggie hadn't taken Hadian's abuse because stepping foot on dryland had robbed her of her vigor. No, five minutes into the interview she'd correctly weighed the Senator's irrelevance to the investigation, and she'd done exactly what Rachael had asked of her: tried not to offend the Senator.
Rachael could see it now, with the red-hot rage lifted from her eyes. She felt horrible, she felt small, she felt doubly worse because she couldn't just apologize to Maggie. Maggie had kept Rachael and the Times out of a difficult spot with an influential politician.
And in thanks, Rachael had hated her for it.
Rachael finished off the last of her wine. She was acting like a spoiled child. She was looking for the worst in Maggie in each and every sign of weakness. Did she really still hate Maggie that much? It'd been so long. But yes, she had to admit that she still hurt deep inside from all the pain that Maggie had caused her. And she hated Maggie for it. Rachael wanted to cry.
The wine had Rachael's head spinning.
“What about the money, though?” Rachael tried to distract herself. “And the police aboard the Straight Dope?”
“Now that is interesting,” Maggie replied. The waiter returned. Somehow, the two had drained the carafe. Maggie ordered more wine and antipasto. The waiter smiled and receded. “The Senator was quick to provide a possible motive for Meerkat, or any other Rafter looking to implicate him in a torrid sex scandal. But that Meerkat was returning from her excursions to dryland with cash in hand...”
“Last I recall, no one got paid to go to rehab,” Rachael tittered. She laughed far too loudly at her joke. She felt tipsy.
“Exactly, and the police investigating Horus's boat before they could have possibly known about Meerkat's murder...”
“But what does it mean?” Rachael said as the second carafe arrived.
“I really don't know,” Maggie said as she poured two more glasses. “But it is so easy to jump to conclusions – see vast conspiracies. No, we've got to get that coroner's report. And then get back to the Raft. Whatever happened to Meerkat, whatever answers there are to this puzzle, they're out there in the water, not here on dryland drinking wine with us in DiJulio's.”
“Maggie, I'm sorry,” Rachael began, the words coming out a little too fast.
“Sorry for what?”
“For everything today. I barged my way into your life, pushed you around, upset everything. And you've humored me. I know it can't be easy, after all this time.”
“Don't apologize,” Maggie corrected. “Any good luck I've had today has been because you've been along. I'd have never gotten in to see the Senator, got the story directly from Horus's mouth without you.”
“But - But I've been horrible.”
The antipasto arrived. The new carafe was already half gone.
“You don't like the Raft, that's nothing to apologize for,” Maggie said, spooning some cured meats onto her plate. “I understand it's an inside-out place. It's crazy. I know that better than anyone.”
“But... but I don't agree with the Senator. After be
ing out there, even for just a day, I know he's wrong. It's no prison.”
“Mmm,” Maggie said around her food, only half agreeing. “There's more than a little truth in what the Senator said.”
“No.”
“No, and I accept it, but... you know, it's like Zhuangzi and his butterfly...”
“It is?” Rachael smiled, emptying her glass.
“Yeah. 'Once I dreamed that I was a butterfly, happy and free, until I awoke. Ever since I've been unable to decide if I am a man who dreamed that he was a butterfly, or a butterfly still dreaming that he is a man.'”
“Yeah,” Rachael nodded, the room spinning.
Maggie went on. “Am I a prisoner set free aboard the Raft, or a freeman imprisoned on it? Both states can be equal and true and mutually complementary, depending on your initial supposition.”
“And you were a prisoner, weren't you, Maggie?” Rachael asked, her heart sinking. “Before you fell asleep.”
“Rachael...”
“No. It's okay.”
“It wasn't like that, I...” Maggie choked. She found her glass and tipped back the last of it.
“I know, it's all so long ago. We don't have to revisit ancient history.”
“But when you thought I was in danger,” Maggie said, searching for a bright spot, “you came. I can't thank you enough for that. With every reason on the Earth not to do so, you still came to help.”
“You didn't need me, though.”
“I needed you – I still need you,” Maggie said, then regretted the double meaning.
They fell into silence. Rachael choked back a sob. The waiter, sensing a pause, appeared to take their order. Maggie ordered pasta and veal. Rachael said nothing.