by Ed Gorman
As he took his first taste he said, ‘You never miss, Joan. This is great.’ But despite his words the round face, not quite adult but not quite teenager either, sagged into an expression of hurt, maybe even loss. I’d focused on his anger upstairs. Now I saw what was behind the anger.
‘How’re you doing today, Jim? Better than yesterday?’
These two had a history. She wanted to be brought up to date. Obviously she’d been thinking about him.
‘Yeah. A little better, I guess.’
He glanced at me. I realized I was in the way. I finished my cookie and grabbed my paper cup of coffee. ‘Guess I’ll wander back up front. Thanks very much for the cookie.’ I nodded to Waters. ‘Maybe we should have dinner tonight if you’ve got time.’
He looked surprised, then suspicious. ‘Yeah, maybe.’
Up front several teenagers were trying to hang a large WARD. FOR THE PEOPLE. sign that would stretch from one side of the large room to the other. They were having a good time, especially the couples who were flirting and joking.
I walked up to the front window and looked out at the street. People were starting to drive home from work. Traffic clogged the four-lane avenue. As the front door opened and closed I could smell autumn again and it made me wonder what my college senior daughter was doing. Unlike me she was a sports fan. She loved football games especially. She never wanted for dates to games or any kind of social events, not only having inherited her mother’s brains but also her good looks. Then I thought of what Tom Ward said about how consultants make less than ideal fathers. Even though she’d lived with her mother except for the month she spent with me every summer, she loved me enough to forgive me and we were now not only father and daughter but true friends.
Then a voice said, ‘I’ll take you up on that dinner, Dev. And I won’t be such a shit.’ Even his grin was glum. ‘You just kind of scared me, I guess.’
‘I’m pretty harmless, Jim. Nobody’s going to lose his or her job.’
He tried to make a joke of it. ‘Well, I’m too important to fire, right? A big shot like me?’
‘You’re probably right. I read some of the recent speeches you wrote for Ward. They’re excellent.’
‘Oh, hell, they weren’t anything special.’ He waved my words away, looking uncomfortable. ‘I wrote better ones last year.’
I gave him my card. ‘I’ll be eating at the hotel tonight. Just give me a call.’
‘I will. I – I’ve got some things we need to talk about.’ Another awkward look, and then he swung around and headed quick and dead-on to the door.
As he left I got another scent of Halloween season. Then I happened to notice the blonde in the silver Porsche. She was almost directly across from me so I got a good look at her face. She was one of those fashionable country club women, all blonde and sculpted and self-reverent, like a sexual icon you could admire but never know. Just now she raised a camera with a long lens to her face and began snapping away. Since Waters was the only person on the street and since her lens moved with him as he walked, there was no doubt he was her subject.
She adjusted the lens once then put the camera down. Half a minute later she shot out of her parking space and bulleted into traffic. I’d already written the license number down.
Who would be following Waters to photograph him? I felt pretty certain she wasn’t federal or local law. I also felt certain that he was in trouble of some kind.
‘Ready for another cookie?’
I had to pry my gaze from the street. What the hell was going on? ‘Don’t mind if I do.’ I pointed to the nearly empty pan. ‘You’re beating your best time. It’s been about ten minutes and they’re almost gone.’
‘As I said, that makes me happy. I’m an empty nester. We had three kids and they’re all grown and gone now. This brings them back. Sort of.’
I took a bite. I hoped the hotel food was this good. ‘Did Jim talk about me?’
‘Yes.’ Her brow tightened. ‘He’s afraid you’ll get him fired. I hope that’s not true.’
‘It isn’t. Not in any way.’
She sighed and mimed fanning herself. ‘Whoosh. Good. I’ve gotten to know him over the past month and a half. I just feel sorry for him. He lost his brother in a boating accident three years ago, he told me. But I’m sure it goes back before that. He’s the nerdy boy who tells you how superior he is every once in a while. You know, being defensive. I’ve seen him once or twice try to come on to women around here and it’s painful to watch. People are so cruel to him and he doesn’t know how to defend himself. He’s so down on himself and people sense that and they make jokes about him. A lot of the time to his face.’
‘Has he ever said anything to you about being in trouble?’
She set the last three cookies on a plate then picked up the metal sheet she’d baked them on. ‘That’s a strange question.’ She now took the time to examine me. ‘I don’t know if I should be talking about anything… private.’
‘I’ve spent a little time with him and noticed that he seems worried about something. Innocent question. My name’s Dev Conrad, by the way. I’m working with the campaign for a few days.’
She stood the cookie sheet on its end and set her hands on it. ‘He had tears in his eyes the other day. I asked him what was wrong. And I thought it was funny because he wouldn’t tell me. He just shrugged and said maybe it would all work out. He usually tells me everything. Or at least that was the impression I had. He might have been holding a lot back from me all this time. I can’t be sure. But whatever this was it made him very upset. I’d never seen him quite that way, really depressed. Later I saw him up at the front window, staring out at the street. I walked up to him. He jerked away from me. I’d really scared him. I felt sorry for embarrassing him because people started looking at him. I know he was mad at me for a few minutes so I walked away. I really felt that I’d betrayed him in some way.’
The street. The Porsche. Being followed. So he’d been aware of it. Would he bolt if I brought up any of this tonight over dinner? There was definitely a spy in the campaign. I wasn’t sure what he was involved in but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the man I was looking for.
‘Thanks very much, Joan.’
She held her cookie sheet in front of her like a shield. ‘Just be easy with him, Dev. He needs all the friends he can get.’
As I nodded and walked away, I wondered if he had any special friends in the Burkhart camp.
FOUR
There was a café in the hotel where I was staying. Before going up to my room I decided to have another cup of coffee. I’m one of the lucky ones. I don’t have any trouble taking a nap after a day’s worth of regular coffee. And a nap was what I was planning.
The café was busy with people who had decided that the food here was what they wanted instead of the more dramatic feast awaiting them in the hotel restaurant. I found a copy of the day’s Chicago Tribune and took one of the few empty booths.
Tuning out the clamor took a few minutes. Dishes clattering, waitresses calling out orders to the cooks, laughter, the occasional shout of ‘We’re over here!’ and the hostess asking me if I was sure all I wanted was coffee. This was how she let me know that she didn’t like the idea – not at all – that I was taking up a booth for a lousy two-dollar cup of coffee. It wasn’t worth explaining that I would have been happy to sit at the counter but all the stools were taken.
The Trib did an extensive rundown of state races. According to their numbers we were only four points behind Burkhart. They noted that we’d been down but were struggling back now. This was the best kind of press and I hoped the local TV news people would pick it up. As much as they liked Burkhart, they liked the horse race even more. This was the kind of story they could lead with, even though public polls generally aren’t as reliable as our own internals.
The other story that interested me was about a Montana man who’d announced for governor saying that there were some who thought that this country would be be
tter off if we tried the president for treason. It was too easy to claim, as too many Beltway media stars insisted, that what we were experiencing was just a silly season of nut jobs. But as I’d seen this afternoon, handguns and assault weapons made this season anything but silly. Insurrection was in the air. People came close to saying that the president should be murdered. And by now there was enough such talk that the mainstream media took it all in their stride.
‘You look angry.’
I raised my head to stare into the ice-blue eyes of Kathy Tomlin, Jeff Ward’s media buyer.
‘Not any more so than usual.’ She was nice enough to match my smile.
‘Mind if I sit down?’
‘Not at all.’
I’ve learned that when a pretty girl, and by God she was, offers to sit with you, the idea of turning her away rarely crosses your mind. She was a bit tousled and worn from the day but that only meant she worked hard and took things seriously.
‘I’m almost afraid to ask you what you thought of our staff. We’re all a little wasted.’
‘I’ve seen worse.’
‘That bad?’
‘Are you kidding? I once spent three days with a staff that had fist fights right in the office. The campaign manager got his nose smashed in the last day I was there. And three of the women were planning on filing sexual harassment suits.’
‘Wow. Could you give me their address? That sounds like fun.’ Very white teeth. You could fall in love with those teeth.
‘They’ve disbanded. The campaign manager went to the slammer for embezzling, one of the single girls got pregnant, two of the married women got divorced and one of the tough guys got punched out by a guy half his size.’
‘They were all on our side, of course.’
‘Of course.’
This time the smile was wan. ‘I used to be so idealistic.’
‘My father was a political consultant for most of his life. Jeff’s father saved his life, in fact. They worked together. I’ve always had the fever but I lost the idealism by the time I was fifteen or so.’
‘Your virginity.’
‘In a way, I suppose.’
A waitress hovered. Kathy ordered. She had just made the hostess happy. The booth was now occupied by at least one person who was ordering food. ‘They have the best cheeseburgers in town. That’s why I always come here after work. Especially nights when I have to go back to the office. My little treat.’
I sat back. ‘What’s wrong with Nolan?’
‘That’s a strange question.’
‘He was there in body only today. One minute he looked sad, the next he looked like he was having an out-of-body experience.’
‘I’m sure he’s just worn out like the rest of us. We’ve worked so hard. We planned on being six or seven points up by now. David was the only one who kept saying we weren’t taking Burkhart seriously enough. Jeff just laughed him off, said he was a freak. Turns out David was right. As usual.’
‘So you don’t know of any major personal problem he’s having?’
I had the sense she was holding something back from me. ‘No, no. He’s just a very serious guy. He works very hard mentally and sometimes he’s just off in his own little world. You aren’t eating?’
The transition closed off further questions. ‘I need to catch some sleep. I’ve had about four hours in the last thirty hours and it’s starting to take its toll. I’m supposed to look things over and see if I can come up with any ideas for improvement.’
‘So you’re really not going to suggest firing people?’
‘Yes, I am. And I’m thinking of starting with you.’
She said, ‘I think you like me. I don’t think you’d do it.’
‘I’d like you even more if I wasn’t falling asleep.’
‘I must be fascinating company.’
I stood up. ‘I think you know better than that.’
The dreams I had disturbed me. When the call came on my cell phone I had to claw my way through the afterbirth of the people and images I’d created. In that instant when I was free again I felt depressed, even a bit afraid.
Lucy Cummings was half shouting. ‘You need to get down here right away.’
‘Lucy?’
‘Oh God, Dev. Were you asleep? I’m sorry. The police are here and everything.’
‘The police?’
‘Somebody killed Jim Waters and left him in his car. I found him about half an hour ago.’
I almost said that Waters was supposed to have called me about dinner. But that was useless and pointless information now.
I was on my feet. ‘Is Jeff there?’
‘He was out at the local college for a talk tonight. But he canceled and rushed back here.’
‘All right. I’ll be there in a few minutes.’
In the bathroom I splashed water on my face. I kept thinking of the things Joan Rosenberg had told me about Waters. A lost soul for sure. I also thought about how he didn’t fit into the group around Congressman Ward. They were sleek pros. He was an awkward loner without any polish at all.
I grabbed a fresh shirt and pair of chinos and then worked into my dark blue suede jacket. I felt sorry for Waters the more I played back some of the things he’d said and the way he’d looked. But those feelings only made me wonder about what he’d been going to tell me at dinner.
FIVE
Emergency lights of red and blue played across the night sky like tracers in a war. Traffic was down to one lane east and west. The crowd was already formidable. TV people lugging cameras and camera packs surged against the cops who pushed them back into the crowd.
I got as close as I could – three-quarters of a long block away – and tried to figure out which would be the fastest way to get to a cop. The night air was chill and fresh, that autumn briskness that can revive the dead. All too soon I was working my way with elbows and nudges through knots of people who’d gathered to be terrified and spellbound by death. Aromas of perfume, aftershave, cigarettes, sweat, booze.
I was pretty sure the last guy I squeezed by wanted to punch me but then he looked at my face. I was at least five inches taller than he was so he decided against it. I was never especially tough but I’d learned how to look and act tough without getting all John Wayne about it. (I read a piece of movie criticism lately that set forth the notion that John Wayne and Clint Eastwood were a boy’s notion of what tough guys were whereas Lee Marvin was the real thing. I agreed.)
Even before I opened my mouth the uniformed woman standing sentry said, ‘Get back in line there!’
I shoved my wallet at her.
‘Am I supposed to be impressed?’
‘I’m a consultant working with the Ward campaign. They called me at my hotel and told me to get over here right away.’
She flipped the wallet open. ‘Dev Conrad.’
‘That’s right. You can check me out.’
She waved me back then went to work on her communicator. She turned away as she spoke. She was probably saying that there was this loser here who was trying to crash the crime scene. Then she was in my face again. ‘They’re checking you out. Just stay where you are.’
She started walking her side of the line. A male uniform worked the rest of it.
From the conversations around me nobody but the cops had any idea what had happened here. The word ‘terrorist’ sliced the air though I wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. If a terrorist of some kind had killed Waters he must have been one of Burkhart’s crazier followers.
Several feet away the female officer started talking to her shoulder again. She studied me as she listened. As she walked up to me she said, ‘I guess you’re all right. You can walk up to the front door and the sergeant there will tell you what to do then.’ Her tone said she still didn’t like me or trust me.
A half-dozen voices started whining behind me. They didn’t know who I was but they sure as hell didn’t like me anyway. I could have been a priest, rabbi, or even doctor. It didn’t matter. I
was some jerk-off who got to go inside.
The sergeant was a burly middle-aged black man with gray hair and gray mustache. He was at least as skeptical about me as the female cop had been. ‘You belong in here, huh?’
‘I’m working here for a few days.’
‘This is a crime scene.’
I didn’t say anything.
‘That means you don’t touch anything and I mean anything. You walk along that wall to the back where you’ll ask for Lieutenant Neame. She’s a lady. She’ll take it from there.’
We stood just outside the entrance. He pointed to the wall I was to follow. ‘I’m going to be standing here watching you. You go straight back and you make it fast. I got other problems I need to attend to.’
I shrugged and started my walk. I wasn’t alone. Four cops with flashlights were scanning the ground looking for anything worth bagging.
Lieutenant Neame was big and dark-haired. I imagined she was something of an athlete. With her gray pantsuit and snappy voice she had the intimidation thing down just right. She dispatched her troops with blunt force trauma. God help you if you disobeyed. Part of this, I assumed, was for show. She needed to hold her own with all the macho guys who didn’t like taking orders from a woman.
‘And you would be Dev Conrad, I guess, huh?’
‘That’s what they tell me.’
‘Cute.’ Then: ‘Did you know James Francis Waters?’
The back of the headquarters was filled with an ambulance and three squad cars. A dusty, dull, ten-year-old Volvo sat in the center of the parking lot. The hood and the trunk were up. All the doors were open. Three different officers in suits worked over the interior.
‘I met him this afternoon. We were supposed to have dinner tonight.’
‘What time?’
‘We left that open. I went back to my hotel to have a nap. He had my cell phone number. He was supposed to call me. Then we were supposed to eat in the hotel restaurant.’
‘That’s the Royale?’
‘Right.’
