The Wallis Jones Series Box Set - Volume Two: Books Four thru Six

by Martha Carr

  “I suppose that’s better for us than anyone realizing Mr. Clemente’s… sorry, his special role in this office. They have to realize someone helped kill off President Haynes. Rodney Parrish was some kind of genius, after the fact, but only when it came to breaking in places and smoothly killing off someone. All for a price, of course. Everyone wonders who managed to orchestrate something with so many moving parts, all those agents moved out of the way.”

  “What exactly have you heard?” asked the President, wondering if she should listen to the steady stream of thoughts that Bach was always willing to pour out to her.

  It was his odd form of gratitude and perpetual nervousness.

  “Don’t worry, no one thinks it was you,” he said, waving his hands, trying to look contrite. “Way too complicated for you to do, which is good news, right? There’s a lot of speculation about who has that much control over so many people. Surprised you-know-who’s name doesn’t automatically pop up, frankly,” said Bach, settling back as he crossed his leg. “Only person I can think of who could do all of this.”

  “You aren’t worried about any of this, are you?” asked President Reese, amazed at how calm Bach looked. He’s a simpleton, she thought, but even he must worry about what Clemente might do with him eventually.

  “All of my worry was wrapped up in what Rodney Parrish could say, and that went away with a couple of bullet holes. If you mean what could come next, someone has been threatening me with some kind of torture for years. Some have even carried out a little of it,” he said.

  He pulled at the edge of his collar where the start of thin red lines, old scars, started. “Management bitch named Robin Spingler. Have to admire someone who doesn’t make idle threats. Clemente would have loved her. Fortunately, a little header down the stairs took care of that problem for me too. Also, not something I did. Never thought of myself as a lucky man, but maybe I was wrong,” he said, the smile back on his face.

  “Judge Spreckert and Judge Sheedy have been cleared for appointing to the Court of International Trade. Secretary Gifford will not be happy about the names, especially the woman being suggested as the new Chief,” said Bach as he leaned back, glancing up at the ceiling.

  “Thankfully, no one will care,” said the President. “I am now President, and I will put forth the recommendations to the Senate and my understanding is enough of them will approve our course of action.”

  “You think that’s why President Haynes had to go? All over some trade court?”

  The President paused, looking for the right words to use. She was never sure there weren’t listening devices all around her. Clemente was able to kill a sitting U.S. President, surely listening in to a conversation would not be a stretch.

  “President Haynes was killed by a madman who slipped in unnoticed. It happens. If there were accomplices, I’m sure the FBI will do their job and figure it out. Until then, we will focus on our jobs. Yours is to gather the information when the list is given to you and mine is to use it,” said the President.

  “Sure, if you say so,” said Back, sitting up straighter. He knew not to get on the bad side of an angry woman. “Still, maybe this is a good thing. Opening up easier trade with China, taking away some of the restrictions with trading in Africa and Russia. Can only mean more money, right? Everybody trades a few more cheap pairs of jeans and a dishwasher. That sort of thing.”

  “I was told to hire you,” said Reese, taking a chance on who might be listening. “Why do you think that is? Any thoughts?”

  “Really?” asked Bach, sliding to the edge of the couch.

  “Don’t be flattered,” said Reese. She wanted to add it’s not a compliment when a madman wants you, it’s only because you’re temporarily useful and that can end in a very distinct way. She knew the same was true for herself as well.

  “Answer the question,” she said.

  “I imagine it has something to do with how well I take orders and how high up I was in Management. There were a lot of Watchers who reported to me. I was in charge of the entire Mid-Atlantic region. The group still does, but now they work for our man, I suppose.”

  “You still give them orders?” asked the President.

  “Well, it’s more like I pass on orders but that’s probably what I was doing for the most part, anyway. Now, I just do it for a different regime. All the same to me. Hey, anyway I can get some coffee in here? Your secretary do that sort of thing? I’m never sure if we can ask them to do that anymore.”

  “How about you wait till the meeting is over. We’re almost done. I will send over my recommendations to the Speaker today.”

  “Why does the International Court of Appeals matter so much? Just tell me that,” said Richard.

  “I know you’re only looking for future angles,” said the President, “but I’ll humor you on the off chance something you come up with can benefit me too. You’re a savant when it comes to the small gesture that can really screw things up in someone’s favor,” she said.

  “If the person who was promoted from the thirteenth becomes the Chief Judge, and then another member from the thirteenth is placed on the court that would be even better. Appointment to the United States Court of International Trade is for life. That makes it possible for more than one member to come from a particular district.”

  “Especially if you have a President in your pocket who is handing over the names,” said Richard.

  “Don’t try my patience, Richard. I am not without my own resources. I was already in a position to be President from years of knowing how to make the right friends. I have nurtured those connections for years.”

  “So, you have incriminating evidence on people in a variety of high places,” he said with a sneer. “Circle people? That has to be valuable.”

  “A variety of people with a variety of allegiances. Governments are always made up of very disparate parts all wanting to I didn’t make anyone ever do anything. These were choices. Do you know that nature doesn’t register with right or wrong, only consequences,” said the President. “I’ve been very good at pointing out an array of possible consequences. I let others decide what they can live with.”

  “Is that how he got you to call me? You got a choice of consequences?”

  The President’s eyes narrowed as she spoke in a low voice. “There isn’t much of a filter on your brain. I suggest you somehow learn how to build one. Try YouTube, if you have to but figure it out. Your network of Watchers may be needed at this moment in time. But there is one great certainty in life. Everything changes.”

  “Why weren’t you in Management all along? You strike me as more their type,” said Richard.

  “My mother was a single parent when she got an offer from Management for a fancy private school, the chance at a better job for her, an entire lifetime package.”

  “So, where’s the catch. It all sounds pretty sweet. I got the same thing,” said Richard, with a frustrated shrug.

  “My mother, she turned it all down. She had dreams of starting her own business, a flower and gift shop. That apparently wasn’t in their plans for her and you don’t get to tell Management. It’s a one way form of communication.”

  “Much like we have now,” said Richard. “Only difference right now is, I’m used to it and you’re new to the party. Wonder who makes that the most vulnerable?”

  The President ignored the comment. “So, she joined a small resistance within the Circle. Decided she could postpone her dreams to make inroads into Management. Why she couldn’t do that from the inside and let me have some of the privileges, I never understood. She said it would make me jaded. Let me tell you something, poverty made me jaded. Pressing my nose up against the window and watching what everyone else had made me jaded.”

  Reese patted the upsweep in her brown hair that was sprayed carefully into place. She could feel the film of sweat on her upper lip. Her face was flushed with anger as she turned to look out the glass doors at the Rose Garden.

  “If you’re so
angry why did you join the Circle?”

  “Only place that would have me. Management was not completely unaware of my mother’s actions. They just couldn’t prove much of anything. It was all suspicions. We had nothing so I took what was offered.”

  “And still resented them for it while you were taking what they offered.”

  The President looked out the window without really seeing the frost on the nearby bushes, the sun shining brightly off the ice. Her voice came out in a low, hushed sadness.

  “I never felt like we were welcomed with open arms. It was always like we were in some kind of invisible grey zone. I could never figure out why, either. What horrible thing did we do to make them see us as less than? Were we too poor? Were we from the wrong bloodlines?”

  “Your mother felt the same way?”

  “Oh no, she loved being in the Circle to the very end. She lived out the rest of her days with a small flower shop and it was enough for her. I told her I was going into politics and she gave me the equivalent of a pat on the head.”

  “So, she drank the Kool-Aid,” said Richard. Reese wondered once again why someone hadn’t shot the man yet.

  “She had her beliefs, I had mine. And, frankly, the Circle wasn’t much help when I started running for town council. They didn’t stop me but they didn’t exactly pave the way either.”

  “That’s their motto. Do it yourself,” said Richard, with a shake of his head. “Then, if all of that is true, how did you make it as far as you did?”

  “A lot of observation and lessons on the failings of human beings. Then, when someone would try to turn me down and hold me back, I used what I had found out. It turns out that patience is a virtue. I officially lined myself up with the Circle but the truth was I had no allegiance to anyone besides myself.”

  “You are a very scary lady, Madame President, but that’s not actually a surprise,” he said, straightening a gold tie clip that had an enameled American flag on it. Management is hard to leave, thought Reese.

  “I make a wager you end up back in Management in no time,” said the President.

  “Maybe,” said Bach. “That’s certainly a possibility. Make a vertical move, take over a region. I tell you, that was my first thought after I got your call. Talked to the wife about it and realized this was like getting a promotion to the world. That’s why I want to absorb whatever information I can about this job. All of it is useful. So,” he said clapping his hands, “tell me about the appointments. Clearly, this is a game changer.”

  The President turned around and gripped the back of her chair. “Not entirely stupid, I see. It is the Chief Judge who gets to decide which one of his judges gets to hear any particular case that comes before the CIT. The Chief Judge, or maybe even his aides who help with the information being provided for the Chief Judge to make a decision,” said the President, shrugging a shoulder, “can make or break a case, in theory, by assigning it to the right kind of person.”

  “And that matters to businesses that do a lot of foreign trade,” said Richard Bach, letting out a long whistle. “If you’re a publicly traded company you can buy stock before the announcement or short the companies that will lose from the deal. And, if you have political connection you can get favors for the information. Money being one particular favorite favor I’d like to see.” He stood up, excited, his words running on top of each other.

  “The power of information is not the telling but who you tell, and when you tell. If you know the outcome you can place all sorts of bets on either side,” said the President. “It’s the American way.”

  “You’re awfully jaded for the leader of the free world but I like it. I may even like you,” said Bach, pointing a finger at the President, smiling broadly. “There’s a way to make some side bets off of this and no harm, no foul for our mutual great leader. If, for example we know the mining company that would benefit from a ruling in West Africa, we could bet on that company as well as any other companies in their supply chain. We could also work a deal with an Angolan minister or some other political type to have it pay off in other ways.” He was turning in a circle, punctuating each idea with his fist.

  “Getting this excited about anything is how you end up dead or buried in some secret site forever,” said the President but Bach ignored her.

  “Like get a cut of the action inside of their country. Same with China but in China you would want to stay away from the political types since their compliance laws have increased and they are actively pursuing bribery types of offenses. This may take some further research.”

  “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself, Bach. You attract too much attention to yourself and you may find your days of dealing finally come to an end. I won’t tell you that twice.”

  “I have a feeling you’d pull the trigger if you had to,” said Bach. The President answered him with a cold stare.

  “Enough said,” he said, giving a small bow.

  “I think this is why certain people wanted me in this position. They wanted more than anything to make sure these appointments went through.”

  “All of this so that they can get a few judges in place. Wow,” he said, in a hushed voice.

  The intercom let out a soft chime and the President picked up the receiver. “Yes? Tell him I’m on my way.” President Reese looked ashen as she hung up the phone.

  She stood up, gathering her notes. There was no telling what she would be asked to say. Better to come prepared.

  “Who was that,” asked Bach, as he slowly stood up. “You look a little put out. Only one person I can think of that can make anyone jump like that. You’d better go.”

  “We were finished anyway,” she said, annoyed with Bach all over again. “Go back to your office and do whatever we’re paying you far too much money to do.”

  “You know, just a thought,” said Richard Bach, pausing at the door, “there’s one mistake that I can see that all of the people who’ve used me before have failed to realize. I can be one of your best assets. But if that’s gonna’ happen you have to treat me like I’m not a pile of crap. Something to think about. I mean, after all, I’m standing in this office right next to you. Not dead, not in prison. Must mean something.”

  “You are a very interesting little man. Get out,” said President Reese, her voice rising.

  A Secret Service guard she had never seen was waiting for her by her secretary’s desk. “Madame President, I’m here to escort you,” he said. President Reese made a point of not making eye contact with anyone in the hallway as she walked alongside the agent. She didn’t want to have to try and explain when she wasn’t sure where she was going and didn’t dare say who she was meeting.

  The agent took her down the elevator into the basement where they accessed one of the fabled tunnels she had heard about as gossip but never given access to when President Haynes was alive. She always suspected he never trusted her enough with the information. Considering how his life ended, she had to admit he might have been right.

  In the end, she thought with a grim smile, I always win.

  “Ma’am, I hope those shoes are comfortable,” said the agent, “Watch your step over these bricks.” He held up a large flashlight as he offered her his arm. They took several turns until she was no longer sure where they were anymore.

  “Have we passed under Lafayette Square yet?” The President was trying to gauge the distance, picturing the open, seven-acre park that stood directly across from the White House.

  “Ma’am? Yes ma’am. Probably a quarter of a mile back.”

  They turned a corner and the President saw a dim glow at the far end with several figures moving in the light. As they grew closer she saw that one of the men was sitting in a chair facing them and another chair was waiting, empty across from him.

  “Mr. Clemente?” she said, as they got closer.

  “Have a seat,” he said, leaning forward, resting a hand on his knee as he gestured to the other chair. “We have much to discuss. Have you put forth the
names for the Circuit Court yet?”

  “I was about to make the call to the Speaker when I heard from your assistant.”

  “Fine. Make it your second order of business,” said Clemente. President Reese could see he was in a foul mood and she pressed her lips together, making a point to say as little as possible. She felt trapped in front of a large, hungry animal.

  “You’re not going to ask what the first order is?” he said, letting out a low rumble of a laugh. “Smart woman. You may live to see a second term. I suppose this can’t even be called your first, given the unfortunate circumstances that precluded you being sworn in to the office. He waved to a Watcher standing nearby who stepped forward and handed him a photo.

  “See this man?” he asked, handing her a grainy photo of a young man looking up at a camera that had to have been high in the ceiling. A security photo.

  “Who is he?”

  “Very good question.” A fine spray of spit hit Reese in the face when Clemente talked, accompanied by a rotten stink. She didn’t dare protest or draw back from him.

  “He stole something from me that I need to get back. More importantly, I need to know the names of everyone who may have seen them, starting with him,” he shouted, jabbing at the picture in her hand, still spitting. Her stomach turned as she tried to breathe through her mouth.

  “Use every resource but find this man.”

  “Then what?” she asked, keeping eye contact with Clemente. Better he not think she was frightened or that her skin was crawling at being so close to him.

  “Then nothing. You find out who he is and where he is and then you give me the information,” he said, jabbing a swollen finger into the middle of his chest. “I will take care of whatever comes after that. Easy, right?” he said, attempting a smile. She could see the yellowed teeth.

  “Start with a man named, Charlie Foyle. He may be connected to all of this,” said Clemente.

  “Can you tell me anything about this Charlie Foyle that might help our investigation?”