Capitol Conspiracy (22 page)

33

U.S. S
ENATE
, R
USSELL
B
UILDING
,
O
FFICE
S-212-D
W
ASHINGTON
, D.C.

C
hristina sailed through the office doors as if floating on a cushion of air.

Jones took one look at her and frowned. “Damnation.”

The moderate swearing did not dampen her spirits in the least. “Some problem, Jones?”

“Well…I guess you couldn’t exactly call it a problem,” he said, twiddling with his cell phone earpiece. “Good news, actually. I was just looking forward to having the pleasure of using it to bring you out of the state of grump in which you have been residing for the past oh-so-many days.”

“I have not been grumpy.”

“You have. But it’s academic. I can see that the grump has left the premises. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Oh, right.”

“Well, Ben and I were both home last night. For the first time in a long time.”

Jones’s left eye twitched. “Do I want to hear this?”

“We just spent a quiet evening at home.” She paused. A lascivious grin came unbidden to her face. “Well, actually, he wasn’t all that quiet.”

“No,” Jones said, averting his eyes. “I do not want to hear this.”

“This morning was pretty excellent, too. Come to think of it, I wasn’t all that quiet this morning.”

“Earth to Christina. Administrative assistant does not want to hear about this.”

“Oh, you know you love it.”

“I’m absolutely certain I don’t.”

“So what’s this hot news you have?” she asked, deftly changing the subject.

“You’ll never guess.”

“The legislative holds on the constitutional amendment have been lifted.”

His expression could not have gone flatter quicker had he been hit in the face with a frying pan. “Who told?”

“No one. But it was inevitable.”

“Excuse me. No one in this entire building saw this coming. How could it have been inevitable?”

She winked. “You should read the morning papers, Jones. All kinds of interesting stuff in there.”

Still smiling, she sashayed down the corridor and into Ben’s office.

“Hey, lover boy.”

He jumped to his feet, hushing her at the same time. “Christina, what have I always told you?”

“That I’m the best lover you’ve ever had?”

“Other than that.”

“That my sheer unadulterated beauty makes you tremble.”

“Keep trying.”

“No PDA in the workplace.”

“That’s the one I had in mind.”

She leaned across his desk. “I’ll try to contain myself.” And then, without a bit of warning, she planted one right on his lips. “But with a pistol like you, it’ll take some doing.”

“Christina—” But before he could protest further, she was smooching again and he seemed to lose his enthusiasm for resistance.

Jones appeared in the doorway. “Boss, you got a memo from—”

Ben and Christina abruptly jumped apart. Jones slapped his forehead.

“Jiminy Christmas, I hate this!”

“Jones, relax….”

“Why did you two have to get married? Why couldn’t you just go on smoldering with unspoken passion? I liked that much better!”

“Jones—” Ben said, but it was too late. He was gone.

Ben turned his attention back to Christina. “You see what happens when we break the rule?”

“Oh, honestly, Ben. What would Jones do if he didn’t have something to complain about? He’d be miserable.”

Ben flopped back into his desk chair. “Did you come in here for a reason? Other than…” He waved his hand aimlessly in the air. “to break our rule.”

“I certainly did.” With a flourish, Christina pulled a small stapled report out of a file folder tucked beneath her arms and dropped it in front of him.

Ben scanned the cover.
CORONER’S REPORT.
“Ugh. Why on earth would I want to read—Ohmigosh. Ohmigosh! Do you know what this is?”

“Well, duh.”

“This—this is the report on Emily Blake.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “The first lady.”

“Yes, thank you for that clarification.”

“How did you get this?”

Christina shrugged. “The Freedom of Information Act. Augmented somewhat by the coroner’s secretary, who was persuaded to unlock her file cabinet and go on a coffee break at an opportune moment.”

Ben looked at her sternly. “Did this inducement involve cash?”

“No, just good gossip. What do you think I am, some sort of crook?”

“Well, I have known you to flout the rules on occasion.”

She gave him a look that was indescribable, then pointed to a section on the third page of the report. “Check this out. When I first got the report through the FOIA, this part had been redacted.”

Ben quickly scanned the five lines that followed the section heading
SEROLOGY
. A few moments later, his face began to flush.

“Pretty hot stuff, huh?”

Ben placed a finger under his collar. “I don’t really see that it’s…I mean…she did meet her husband at the airport, after all. And we know they hadn’t seen each other for several days. I hardly think it’s unusual, even for the First Couple…”

Christina rolled her eyes. “You’re not reading carefully enough, ADD boy. Try again.”

Ben perused the passage again, this time more slowly.

“Oh,” he said, followed a few minutes later by an even lower-pitched “Oh.” Which finally culminated in an “Ohhhhh.”

“Now you can see why the passage was redacted, right?”

Ben cleared his throat. “I can—can—certainly see why someone might want it kept quiet.”

“Someone like the President of the United States?” Christina smiled. “Ben—you’ve got to ask him about this.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t ask the President of the United States about—about—this.”

“Ben, you have to.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“Ben, it could be important to figuring out what really happened on April nineteenth.”

“How could this possibly relate—?”

“Just ask him about it. You two are buddies now, right? He made you his point man on this puppy. Fine. He wants your support, he should be willing to assuage any doubts you have about it.”

“What makes you think I have doubts?”

“Ben, you dither back and forth about which toothbrush to use in the morning. But I don’t care if you have doubts or you don’t. I want to hear the president’s explanation.”

“I don’t know….”

“Ben,” Christina said, giving him her most direct in-your-face look. “Heaven knows I wouldn’t want to seem pushy. But you owe me. I got those legislative holds lifted, even though I think this stupid amendment is dangerous and un-American. Now it’s your turn to do one for me.”

Ben struggled to argue with her logic, but as usual, it was unassailable. “Does it have to be the President of the United States?”

“Ben, the fact that it is the President of the United States may be the key to understanding what really happened.” Her voice dropped a notch. “To understanding why Mike is lying comatose in a hospital bed. So do this for me, Ben.” She paused. “And for him.”

34

T
HE
O
VAL
O
FFICE
T
HE
W
HITE
H
OUSE
W
ASHINGTON
, D.C.

P
resident Blake stared out the window at the rolling back lawn behind the White House. Thank God for Teddy Roosevelt. Before him, the area where Blake now stood had been covered by gardens and greenhouses. Teddy was the one who decided he needed a retreat from his wife and boatloads of children and pets and nieces and nephews. He’d had the West Wing constructed to give himself a private retreat where he could actually get some work done. Taft enlarged it, and every president since had worked here, in this office, gazing out at this magnificent view.

When was the last time he took a moment to go outside and enjoy that lovely expanse of green? Probably not since that damned Easter Egg Roll, easily the stupidest of all the annual presidential duties. He’d rather free some idiotic Thanksgiving turkey every day than have to do that Easter egg hunt. Of course, when the cameras were rolling, he loved all the adorable orphans and inner-city youths who were rounded up each year to chase after those inedible eggs. But if it were up to him, he would’ve canceled the event a long time ago.

Emily had loved Easter, and she had taken particular joy in the egg roll. That’s the kind of person she was.

God, he missed her. He missed her so much. And the pain of separation wasn’t eased any by his lingering feelings of remorse.

There she was, staring back at him from the photograph on his desk, the slightly naughty smile, the beautiful brown eyes.
What happened?
she seemed to be asking.
What went wrong?

He only wished he knew.

There was a knock on the northeast door. “Come in.”

Tracy Sobel entered the office, as brisk and efficient as ever. “Time for your first visitor, sir.”

Right,
he thought, mentally running his calendar through his brain. He had two private confabs coming up, both relating to April 19, and neither likely to be pleasant. “Who’s on first?”

“I think it would be best to start with your Secret Service agent. He should be easier to handle.”

“And Kincaid?”

“At the helipad.” Sobel paused, thinking a moment before continuing. “Just don’t be fooled by the milquetoast mannerisms, the stammer, the awkward shyness. He’s smart.”

“So I’ve noticed. Speaking of which—I see that the legislative holds have been lifted.”

Sobel smiled slightly. “So you do read my memos after all.”

“Not to mention
The Washington Post.
Who leaked the names?”

“I’m not positive—but I think it was your boy Kincaid. Or someone on his staff.”

“And who organized the holds in the first place?”

“I assume it was the new Senate minority leader.”

“He says not.”

“Well, then I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything.”

“And that in and of itself is unusual enough to set my brain spinning.” He continued staring directly into her eyes. “It wasn’t, by any chance…you, was it, Tracy?”

She appeared shocked. “Me? Sir—I’m your chief of staff.”

“Yes. But I also know you personally oppose this amendment.”

“We’ve been over this ground before, sir. Regardless of what I may personally feel, I would not obstruct a piece of legislation you yourself proposed.”

“No, you’d get someone else to do it. Like three senators who could prevent it from getting to the Senate floor indefinitely.”

“Sir, I assure you I did nothing of the kind. I have never been anything but loyal to you. Don’t you trust me?”

President Blake leaned back in his chair and stretched. “I hope this won’t shock you, Tracy, but I didn’t get this office by trusting people. Trust is for losers. You win by eliminating trust from the equation. By leaving people no choice but to do what you want them to do.”

“Then you don’t believe me.”

Blake laid his hands flat on his desk. “If you tell me you had nothing to do with it, then I have no choice but to accept that.”

Sobel took the tiniest step closer. “Sir, I had absolutely nothing to do with those legislative holds.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He rearranged some papers on his desk. “Would you please send in Agent Zimmer?”

“Of course, sir,” she said, but something about the way she said it told him that this wasn’t over yet. Which was fine. If she did it, let her worry. If she didn’t do it…

Well, it probably still wouldn’t hurt for her to be a trifle on edge. Worry was a healthy thing. And he didn’t like anyone who worked for him to be too brisk and efficient. Made him a little crazy.

“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. President,” Agent Zimmer said as they shook hands. “I truly appreciate it.”

“Least I can do,” Blake replied, as if a private conference with the president were the most common thing in the world. “After all you’ve done for me.”

“I guess I should get right to it—”

“Let me stop you before you even start, Max,” the president said, snatching a piece of paper from his desktop. “I’ve seen your letter of resignation. And my answer is: No way in hell.”

“Sir, I had valid reasons—”

“I don’t care. I need you.”

“The Service has hundreds of capable agents—”

“I want you.”

Zimmer paused, unsure what to say next. The thought most dominant in his brain was:
This man’s wife died while I was protecting her.
And yet he did not seem to bear Zimmer the least malice, didn’t assign the least blame. He was being so generous, it bordered on the inhuman.

“Sir, there’s more to my offer of resignation than you might imagine. What I have to tell you concerns other members of the Secret Service. I think it might be best if I removed myself from the departmental equation. Eliminated the possibility of any personal or professional motivations.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what, Max. You tell me what you came here to say. Then I’ll decide whether you need to resign or not.”

“Sir—”

“Max, you know I don’t have to accept any letter of resignation unless I want to. So that’s the best offer you’re going to get. Might as well start talking.”

Zimmer paused, trying to think how best to broach the subject. He had practiced this speech, practiced the whole meeting a dozen times. But now he couldn’t remember a word of what he had planned to say. “Sir, it concerns Special Agent Gatwick. He used to protect—”

“I know who he is, Max,” the president said abruptly. Was he imagining it, Zimmer wondered, or had the president stiffened slightly the moment he spoke Gatwick’s name? “Please continue.”

“On April nineteenth, Agent Gatwick made changes to the standard agency protocol. He altered the security strategy in a way that turned out to…not be a good idea.”

“I know all this, Max. What’s your point?” His eyebrows knitted together. “Surely you’re not suggesting that Gatwick anticipated the attack. That he knew what was about to happen?”

“I—I just don’t know, sir.”

“Have you reported your thoughts to your superior?”

“Yes. And Director Lehman not only did nothing—he met with Agent Gatwick privately, at a clandestine meeting. And then he took the Secret Service out of the investigation, which also strikes me as very suspicious.”

“What is it you want, Max?”

“I think there should be a complete investigation of Agent Gatwick’s actions, what he did, what impact it had, and who knew about it. And I believe that Agent Gatwick should be relieved from active service pending the outcome of the investigation.”

“That’s out of the question.”

The president had responded without a moment’s hesitation. What was going on here?

“Sir, if there is any chance that Gatwick had inappropriate knowledge, he needs to be taken out of play until we determine if he continues to pose a threat to national security.”

“Sorry, no. Can’t be done.”

“But—”

The president turned, walking away from him. Zimmer could no longer see his face. “I can’t do it, Max.”

“Surely you can see—”

“You’re not listening to me. I can’t do it.”

“With all due respect, sir, you’re the leader of the free world. You can do pretty much anything you want.”

“Okay, then, I
won’t.
I won’t do this. I will not allow the first lady’s name to become…besmirched.”

What?

“Emily was a fine woman, Max. No matter what. She was first-rate, right down the line. I won’t take any action that might create suspicions. Tarnish her memory.”

My God,
Zimmer thought,
is he saying what I think he’s saying?
Zimmer had hassled Gatwick at times, thought maybe there had been some inappropriate flirtation, but he had never really believed that—

Was it possible all those rumors were true?

“Mr. President, the whole sudden decision to withdraw from the investigation—”

“Yes?”

“Well, I don’t understand it.”

“Frankly, Max, you don’t have to understand it. Your job description is to protect, not to understand. But you can rest assured that Director Lehman did the right thing for the right reason, and with my full support. In fact, if I recall correctly, I suggested it.”

“Sir—”

“I think this conversation has gone about as long as it needs to go. Your resignation is not accepted. So get back to work.” He paused, then added, “And concentrate on your job, not any more idle suspicions that might crop up in your brain.”

“But, sir—”

“This is your commander in chief speaking to you, Special Agent Zimmer. Have I made my instructions perfectly clear?”

Zimmer stood at attention and gave him a small salute. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. You may leave by the southwest door. Ask Gina for a cookie. The kitchen baked them fresh this morning. Best snicker-doodles in the whole damn free world.”