‘You know, I almost started laughing when you came up with that nun thing,’ he said. ‘This sounds like a Saturday Night Live skit. The grieving relative and the nun.’
‘Desperate times. Now why isn’t Nolan up here?’
‘Family matters. He needed to be home.’
I doubted that. Nolan was a political junkie. A murder in the parking lot of campaign headquarters and he goes home after the police interview him? ‘What’s so important at home?’
‘How the hell do I know? And what’s so important about Nolan? You believe all that bullshit about him being the “brains” of my campaign? I don’t need Nolan. He could quit tomorrow and I’d be fine.’
‘Yeah? That’s all you’d need. Your number one man quitting after a murder.’
‘I didn’t say he’d quit. I just meant that nobody’s irreplaceable. What the hell’re you trying to do to me anyway? You don’t think I’ve got a million fucking things on my mind?’
There was something he wasn’t telling me. Even the mention of Nolan had agitated him more than Waters’ death seemed to.
‘So what’s going on with you and Nolan?’ I said quietly.
He started to get angry, then thought better of it. He walked back to the table and sat down. ‘Nobody knows anything about this. And I mean my old man. You tell him and you’ll be sorry. I promise you.’
‘Cut the threats. Just tell me what’s going on.’
‘Well, his wife and I-’
‘Oh, shit.’
‘You didn’t even let me finish, God damn it.’
‘You don’t have to finish. Let me open my laptop here. I can write it out for you. Save you some time. I may not get all the addresses where you two shacked up but I bet I can get everything else right. I’ll bet she’s got a nice ass, right?’
‘Very funny.’
‘He’s your best friend since grade school and you’re schtupping his wife? Very nice.’
‘Things happen to people.’
‘Things like this don’t happen unless the two people involved want them to happen.’
‘She’s always had her eye on me. Even back in college.’
‘Oh, I forgot. You’re irresistible. Also you can’t help yourself when women throw themselves at you. Even your best friend’s wife.’
‘Don’t get sanctimonious on me, Conrad.’
‘I’m not. I’m being cynical again. I like your father. When I think of my dad I think of your dad. I want to make your dad happy by seeing that you win. So I’m thinking what happens if Nolan decides to go to the press? You’re toast. Not only do we have a murder to deal with, now we have an affair. You know how many people will hate you for betraying your best friend and the guy who helped you win two terms in Congress? You’ll be finished, asshole. Burkhart won’t have to say a word. Nobody will. Because you’ll have done it to yourself.’
I went over and got my own beer from the fridge. The cold air felt good on my face. Cleansing. I was in no position to judge him morally. I was in a perfect position to judge him professionally.
When I was seated again, I said, ‘So where do you stand with Nolan?’
‘He isn’t speaking to me.’
‘Since when?’
‘Since two days ago. He won’t answer my calls and when I see him he just walks away. He knows I won’t start a scene in front of the others. I can’t afford to. He might say something.’
‘I’ll talk to him.’
‘He doesn’t give a shit about you. Nobody here does. They resent my old man for forcing you on us.’
‘You want to talk to him, then?’
The frown was petulant. ‘I’ve already told you he won’t talk to me.’
‘Then I’ll talk to him. By the way, when did he first figure this out?’
‘Five days ago. Bryn was typing a letter to me on her laptop upstairs when one of their daughters hurt herself on the driveway. Bryn ran down to help her and forgot all about the laptop. David came home and saw it and read it. I’d written her this really sexy e-mail about us making love and she was responding. I was stupid even to send it.’
‘Brilliant.’
‘Well, fuck you.’
‘You want me to tell you congratulations?’
‘People make mistakes.’
He was hopeless.
‘Have you talked to Nolan about it?’
‘The one time I was able to talk to him I tried to tell him that I don’t really give a shit about her. That it was just a little fling. Hell, he’s had little flings. But he wants to make this big deal out of it. You know, make himself a martyr.’
‘I doubt any of his flings were with his friends’ wives. There’s a difference.’
‘Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.’
He was a peach all right. A real fucking peach.
‘So we’ve got the murder and now we’ve got Nolan.’
He stared at his bottle of beer and then started peeling the label off with his thumbnail. ‘Well, since we’re playing Come to Jesus, Conrad, I guess I should tell you about one other thing.’
The headache cut down like a sword through the exact middle of my skull. What the hell was he going to tell me now?
‘I,’ he said, ‘am being blackmailed.’
PART TWO
SIX
That night I had a highly erotic dream of a silver car and a license plate number. I was following the sleek machine on a narrow asphalt road through a dense forest in dangerous rain. I would speed up to eighty, once even to ninety, but I could never get close enough to catch her. The dream became a sweaty nightmare when my car plunged off a cliff, accompanied, all the way down, by the almost melodious sound of a woman laughing with great perfumed pleasure.
In the morning, my clock displaying 6:47, I called Kathy’s number. She was yawning but awake.
‘I apologize for this, Kathy.’
‘Sure you do. I can hear it in your voice.’
I smiled. ‘Actually, I do. Unfortunately, I need some help and that kind of takes precedence over everything else right now.’
‘You’re not even close to the record. At one of the places I worked, the boss would call me at six to tell me he was picking me up for breakfast at six fifteen.’ Another yawn. ‘So what’s going on?’
‘Do you have any contact with the local police?’
‘There’s a detective I used to date when I’d come back here from Washington. It was never a big thing but he was always a lot of fun. I’ve asked him for a few favors from time to time.’
‘Good. I need a license number registration checked as soon as possible.’
I could tell she was smiling now, too. ‘Can I at least wait until eight thirty when he gets in?’
‘Hell, no. Call him right now. Even if he’s in the shower.’
A sweet, girly laugh. ‘Probably not a good idea. He got married six months ago. I doubt his wife would appreciate a call from one of his old lovers, especially before seven in the morning. So what’s the license number?’
After putting some coffee on, I picked up my cell phone and started going through the messages I hadn’t responded to yesterday. The first one was the one I wanted least. Better to get it over with. I jabbed the right numbers.
Helen Ward answered. ‘He’s been waiting to hear from you. Can you believe all this? Just a minute.’
I hadn’t said hello and neither had she. The old-time consultants had wives who acted like the wives of senators and congressmen. They were just as ready for battle as their spouses. She hadn’t been unfriendly just now but all that mattered to her was that her son’s campaign was in serious trouble. No other subject was allowed to enter her conscious mind.
Tom came on. ‘I didn’t sleep for shit last night. We got the news just before midnight.’
‘Join the club. Jeff didn’t leave my hotel room until two o’clock.’
‘He’s ducking me, the little prick. He doesn’t want any advice from the old man.’
‘I don’t have anything new to report, Tom. But I told you I’d check in.’
‘Helen’s climbing the walls.’