by Gus Leodas
“Thanks for your efforts.”
“I know how much it means to you. I enjoy doing for you. Do you still want to meet Bender?”
“Yes. Because the first offense didn’t work doesn’t mean we have to stop. Keep watching him in the office. Maybe something will happen.”
“Nothing is going to happen unless we make it happen.”
“Maybe after I meet him.”
“I don’t mean that. Forget it for now.”
“Judy, consider me a good friend instead of a lover. That should be secondary when together. There are times when I want to meet and talk to a friend.” Judy delayed a reply. Laura thought the pause long to reply. “Hello.”
“It’s Adam, isn’t it?”
“Not only Adam.”
“I understand Laura, no need to explain further. Are you coming down this Friday?”
“Yes. I should arrive at Adam’s after ten in the morning. I’ll look for you on television.”
“Bender should come on around eleven-thirty. You’ll see me then. Take care, Laura. You’ll hear from me.”
Her closing tone bothered Laura after she hung up – no romantic words or sweet statements from Judy. Maybe she accepted her request to remain friends.
Laura had no reason to think otherwise.
Laura had a difficult time with her supervisor taking the day off on Friday due to work backlog. She appealed on the extra hours required by UNICEF, and received approval.
She arrived at my apartment after ten in the morning. The hearing had barely begun as she settled in to watch. The Committee ‘rubber stamped’ the new appointee as Bender already approved the selection. The rest played for the record. There wasn’t an outstanding newsworthy reason for television coverage. Laura would research the food project if television canceled coverage. Hearings were a part of her life.
The hearing unwound as dull television until Bender came on at eleven-twenty. Laura saw Judy sitting behind Bender. The camera focused on a medium shot of Bender from the top of his head to the front edge of the dais. In the background, Judy stood and disappeared from view. Laura watched the alternating camera angles from the witness to Bender. After a minute, Judy hadn’t returned. Laura decided Judy visited the women’s room. Then the phone rang. Laura lowered the television volume and answered.
“Adam’s residence,” she answered in singsong voice.
“Laura, this is Judy. Are you watching the hearing?”
“I must.”
“Good. I have to go. See you later.”
Laura grinned with strangeness at the extraneous call.
Cameras continued to alternate. Bender was in a lengthy dissertation leading to his next question. Judy returned with a pitcher of water. She leaned in around Bender, lifted, and filled his empty glass placing the pitcher behind her. The picture cut to the witness then back to Bender. Judy read documents. When asking another question, Bender picked up the glass, drank half then put the glass down.
Suddenly, he grabbed his throat, gagging, face turning pink. A gruesome gurgle wrenched his throat and he toppled sideways in convulsions. Judy delayed responding then sprang to his assistance and screamed, a frightened, terrified woman. Her screams shattered the hearing. “He’s dead! He’s dead!” Chaos. People rushed to Bender. A frantic announcer came on camera to describe the scene.
Laura was in shock, horrified. She turned the volume louder and sat closer to the screen, her eyes welded on the chaos.
Confusion increased. Someone called out to get a doctor. Laura could see someone loosening Bender’s tie and shirt then slapping his face to revive him. Another started the CPR procedure.
Laura knew Judy poisoned Bender.
She trembled from fright.
Her phone rang. She stalled, afraid to answer at first.
“Hello.”
“Did you see it?” Adam said.
“Yes. I was watching. I…I couldn’t believe what I saw. Did he choke? Heart attack?”
“He was poisoned. I can’t talk long. Everyone needs questioning. I’ll be late getting home. Incredible.”
“I’ll wait for your call.”
Laura watched the proceedings until they ended ten minutes later with the promise of news interruptions “to inform you of the latest happenings.”
Laura’s mind spun in a frightening, concentric dimension. She functioned as a zombie unbelieving Judy murdered Bender. She felt as an accomplice taking blame for putting the idea into Judy’s head. Judy must be crazy.
A crazy person controlled my life now!
If Judy confessed, Laura’s life ended terrifying her. Her lips quivered, simulating a high fever, an unfamiliar fever, finished, facing a lifetime in prison, maybe the electric chair. Paranoia of overwhelming proportions hung over her. The phone rang. She froze. It rang repeatedly, then stopped, then rang again. She answered.
It must be the FBI.
“Yes?”
“Were you watching?” Judy said. “Did you see it?”
“O God. Why?”
“You know why, for us. Remember, they will never prove anything. I have to get back to answer more questions. No matter how difficult, I will overcome. He has fallen. That dog has fallen. Did you see how he gurgled? I consider that the exhilarating moment of my life. I also did it for you. Bye.” The phone clicked.
When fear faded, she thought of calling the police or FBI or another authority to tell them Judy was the killer. Then they’d ask – How do you know? What would she say? The idea was hers? No.
Would Judy confess and implicate her? The next hour brought anxiety. She flipped from channel to channel looking for news. Then she turned to the radio hoping to hear Bender survived.
Somebody please tell her he revived.
The news was direct, to the point, and factual. Bender was dead, a high public official assassinated, some said murdered.
Cold flashes ran up and down in Laura’s body like a scanning device. She huddled in a corner of the sofa, arms holding her body tight to contain the surges.
Laura never answered the phone when I called to tell her I’d be later than expected, detained with others for questioning.
Judy became the prime suspect having poured the water. No one had evidence of her guilt. Many had filed into the adjoining room. Everyone in the room prior to the poisoning was suspect including senators. Proving the action a plot solely against Bender would be difficult. Bender might have been a mistaken victim. Two other pitchers were also poisoned. Were they decoys or did someone plan mass assassinations? A mystery evolved and nobody knew anything.
Judy Heller deserved the Academy Award playing the horrified and timid female; crying and distressed.
I had permission to leave at nine-thirty; Judy at close to eleven o’clock with the last contingent, all instructed to remain in town when the questioning ended.
Where was Laura? I called three times that night and no answer.
At five-thirty, Laura’s tension grew unbearable, needing to escape from the day. Maybe the problem would go away when she woke up. She swallowed two sleeping pills and shut down like the lights.
I found her snuggled on the sofa sound asleep. I lifted her and put her to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night, the table lamp lit. Laura sat in bed shaking, a horrible look on her face.
“Laura, what’s wrong? Honey, what is it?” She had a faraway look whose intensity scared me. I leaped out of bed and ran around to her side to hold her. “It’s me, Adam. Laura? What is it? Honey, tell me.”
I held her as tight as I could, a security blanket. I felt her relaxing. I kissed her head, face, and neck to add comfort.
“Adam.” Her voice was weak.
“Yes, love.”
She wrapped her arms around me.
“I had a bad dream. I’m sorry I wakened you.” She cried. “I don’t want to lose you or be away from you. Hold me. Don’t let me go away.”
The reason for her rambling must connect to the nightmare. I held and comforted, co
mpassionate. She soon slept in my arms as I stroked her head. I propped against the headboard to make her comfortable. With my arms holding her snugly, I slept.
Uncomfortable sleeping that way, I awoke twice afraid to move, to disturb her secure and peaceful sleep.
The phone woke me at ten o’clock. I grabbed it in the middle of the second ring. “Hello.” Whoever called, hung up. I cursed the wrong number and lay there waiting for Laura to open her eyes. I kissed them open in the next minute. When they opened, she thrust out of my arms, startled. Then she reined her senses seeing me.
“Forgive me. I didn’t know where I was. I must have ruined your night.”
“You had a nightmare, never seen you so frightened, unlike you. What time did you go to sleep? I came in after ten and you were curled up on the sofa.”
“I took sleeping pills. I get nightmares when I take those damn things. I should know better by now.”
“Take a shower to pick you up and breakfast will await you. Okay?”
Laura quick-kissed me as she nodded. I left. She left for the bathroom. What had happened increased in her mind with the new day. The threat remained a shroud.
I was in the middle of buttering the toast when she came in and hugged me tight. She wore her robe. She hugged me tighter, as if trying to blend with me as I try to do with her when making love.
“I love you, Adam. I love you.”
Laura acted strange, peculiar, unlike the Laura I knew: positive, bold, confident, and defiant – more like a little girl looking for affection to give her strength to banish whatever frightened her; like hiding from a lightning storm. I held her for as long as she wanted, and needed. Then the smile returned. Color returned to her cheeks with a gleam in her eyes.
“I should have married you long ago,” she said.
“Aha! You’re weakening. Do it today. Let’s drive up to Maryland.”
She flipped my lower lip with her finger.
“Not yet.”
I served her and sat for breakfast.
“You must’ve had a hectic day over there,” she said.
I had a mouthful of eggs. “An incredible day. I can’t imagine how they’ll ever catch the person or persons responsible.”
Laura froze. Paranoia came back. “Persons?”
“It could have been an organized plot, a terrorist group. I can’t imagine how they got in. People were scared to death they’d be accused and held terrified of the publicity, why the authorities approached with caution, reluctant to hold anyone until there’s proof. Who wanted to kill at least three senators? And which three? I could’ve been poisoned. I drink that water. Everybody else in the room does. Someone must hate Bender to kill him in front of millions of viewers. I may have to go back today. Would you like to go with me? You can wait outside.”
“No. Between my nightmare and chills, I should rest. Why don’t we take in a happy movie tonight? I need to laugh today, to keep the nightmare from returning.”
“A movie it is. I felt sorry for Judy, him dying that way before her eyes. Did you hear her scream? Horrible. I thought they were going to charge her. Her reaction to seeing Bender dying lent credibility to her innocence. The record shows she was his loyal and dedicated aide with the longest service. It’s a government investigation and those things take forever. Unless somebody confesses, they’ll never find the assassin or assassins.”
“Maybe somebody will confess.”
“People with causes don’t admit to anything unless they or their group can benefit from the publicity. Like terrorist groups around the world who confess their actions to bring focus on their cause.”
“Maybe it wasn’t a terrorist group.”
“I’m not saying it was. I mean whoever was responsible, outside a publicity group, won’t get caught.”
“You think so?”
“Positive. If they charge somebody without a confession, I’d defend him in court. I’ll get him off.”
“Open and shut?”
“Sure unless forensics proves different. Many people were milling about those pitchers, touched by many, filled and refilled, any of thirty to forty people, a good case for Sherlock Holmes – clever and diabolical. Somewhere down the line, there may be a slip up. The authorities have to deliver someone. After all, the murder was on TV. That ends Cyrus Bender. What a way to go – nobody deserves that ending, no dignity. He didn’t deserve dignity either because that’s not how he lived his life. You’re saying little this morning.”
“You’re doing enough for two.”
“What was your reaction watching on television?”
“It knocked the wind out of me. Bender made boring hearings exciting. What did Senator Josephs say?”
“The poisoned water could have been for him. Other senators also think it might’ve been them. One senator declared the act as an all out attack from subversives taking over the government and he wanted Homeland Security alerted. The FBI was on alert. No other official anywhere was poisoned or killed.”
I received a call at two o’clock to return to the hearing room to review my actions that day. At three o’clock, the phone startled Laura.
“How do you feel today?” Judy asked.
“Oh, er…fine. How about you?”
“I called this morning from a pay phone but had to hang up. Adam answered. What do you think?”
“Too stunned to think. Where are you?”
“I’m on a pay phone, on the way to the hearing room, avoiding using my cell. I have to go through more questioning. I’m calling to tell you not to worry about me. They believe my innocence. Did you hear about the other pitchers?”
“Yes.”
“Brilliant, wasn’t it? I cannot believe how relieved I feel that Bender is gone from my life. I’ll call you in a few days. They might trace calls as investigative activity. Take care and relax. We’re in this together. As soon as I obtain permission to leave town, I’ll visit you for a few days. I have something important to do then we can spend more time together.” Silence. “Laura, you there?”
“I hear you.”
“Bye, sweetheart. It’s a time for celebration.”
When she hung up, ‘we’re in this together’ is what Laura remembered. Laura didn’t dare offend Judy for fear Judy may lose control and implicate her. The crisis was over Laura’s head, beyond her control. Judy was in a position to control Laura’s life, a form of implied extortion.
Laura could have handled involved with a scandal, not this. What she said at the Achilles Heart meeting came back haunting – It is one thing to say you will do something and another to do. Laura would never assassinate anyone. Here she was an accomplice, by proxy, if considered one by authorities.
Was Laura legally a criminal? How could she find out? Whom could she ask? I’m a lawyer but couldn’t ask me. Automatically, she assumed being an accomplice having planted the seeds of destruction.
Then Laura believed she’d never be involved.
Judy was confident, strong.
No way would Judy break.
Night came to Washington with a full moon, pale and domineering adding brilliance to the lit Capitol Dome.
Judy left the hearing room for her car in the parking area and waited. She was free. Bender was history. Investigators finished with her; mission accomplished; one down, one to go.
She may strike as desperate authorities searched to blame the poisoning on someone. She had formulated her new plan, and authorities would have the killer of Senator Cyrus Bender. She reached over the front seat for the ashtray, lifted the cover, withdrew an aluminum foil packet, undid the foil and checked the number of poison capsules, four. She refolded the packet placing it on the seat next to her then waited for her prey.
Her mission was clear and focused.
Kill me, the other obstacle.
Run me over then place the poison in my pockets, and be blamed for Bender’s death. My death would be an unfortunate accident. Her first choice was to poison me to appear I committed suicide
with the same poison due to guilt feelings. I would have the poison capsules on me. Hitting a pedestrian, killing a pedestrian wouldn’t put her in prison – an accident, and a coincidence that we knew each other.
Impatient, she left the parking area to wait by the bus stop. The area was darker there lacking the extra splash of monument light. She parked near the corner at the far end of the bus stop street, searching for my arrival. Realizing she forgot something, she reached into the glove compartment for pliers, left the car, and walked to the rear. The locality was sparse, a few people. Unseen, she smashed the small license plate lights. She reentered the car positive no one noticed. In ten minutes, I appeared at the bus stop. Two other people waited. She watched my every move. Rage and venom against me increased as she stared at me from the distance, her dagger-throwing trance disrupted by the groaning bus approaching from behind to pass her. She watched the bus discharge and pick up passengers. She focused on the bus stop to assure I boarded. I did. She followed the bus to my stop, monitoring each stop to make sure I hadn’t exited.
Another person got off with me in Alexandria. My apartment was a short distance; three streets from the bus stop – better than commuting by car. I promised to take Laura to a movie. We could make a late show after dinner, maybe not. Famished, I ate only donuts and coffee since leaving Laura and acid indigestion waited.
I headed towards my apartment, away from the active thoroughfare, down the tree-lined streets.
Judy stalked me keeping a street’s distance. As I approached the corner, she increased speed gauging her movement. The timing would be perfect, to strike when I reach the middle of the street with no way to escape.
I approached the corner and looked around for moving cars. I stepped into the street. The black car approaching the intersection didn’t signal to turn. Judy increased her speed. I was in perfect position. Judy accelerated with tires screeching as she turned and drove towards me.
The screech alerted me and when I turned, the car came fast towards me. I jumped out of the way, the car whizzing by missing by inches. The car careened and weaved down the street from sudden force. Judy cursed the lost opportunity as she lowered her body to avoid recognition.
