“He will do as he is told.” Woodrow flatly said, but Berta disagreed. She shook her head while saying...
“Andrew may not have pulled the trigger, but he is unquestionably a murderer by extension.”
Morpheus held his tongue, to avoid his usual jarring match with Berta. Typically, by now he would have cut her down, belittling her until she cowered, giving way to him and the older members belonging to the group. But that had been then, and now was now; and he couldn’t downplay the truth.
Woodrow plainly said...
“Berta, you have had your say, as well as George. Now it is time to hear from the others. Eliza--tell us what you have learned.”
Eliza trained her focus on Woodrow, more than the others. She used him as her focal point because she felt like she was still playing catchup. Not more than three hours ago, she’d been with Bolden, trying to explain that she had to leave and she didn’t know when she would return. She’d endured his hurt expression and her heart had broke a thousand ways. When she stepped out of the limo to board the plane, he had touched her and she could still feel his hands caressing her neck and shoulder. She didn’t dare look at Morpheus because she’d crossed the line and she wouldn’t turn back; not like she’d done when it came to Tollin. Their breakup had sent him spiraling out of control and his depression had caused the problem. Tollin had pushed too far and the death of her ex-lover had frustrated their plans.
Eliza spoke using a professional tone.
“Governor Andrew Wilcox understands the complexities in this situation and he is cooperating. His sister is doing her best, and she’s living on the governors ranch because its secure and she isn’t hounded by the press.”
Woodrow said...
“Are there any factors that we haven’t discussed here?”
Berta shouted...
“Why are we skirting around the obvious? What good is Andrew’s cooperation, if she isn’t telling him what to do to make this story go away! Who cares about his sister and the Press. Gloria Wilcox-Randolph isn’t important--and eventually, her name will fall into obscurity. American’s have the attention span of a gnat--and given time, they won’t remember Gloria or Amy Randolph. Woodrow--don’t you get it? Eliza either can’t or she won’t help us. You choose--but I’m betting that the answer is that she can’t help us. This problem is way above her head, and we need to move forward, instead of standing still. As it pertains to Andrew; I vote no confidence. Also...I vote that she leaves! She isn’t one of us and clearly--she doesn’t have the resources to redirect the coming storm.”
“Calm...Calm, Berta. Please...allow Eliza time to understand the topic.”
Berta spat back...
“What’s there to understand? We all know what has to be done. We need to pull back...tighten our reins and that includes expelling Eliza. Morpheus made promises and I have yet to see the results. Months have passed, and she is no closer to ending this, than she’d been when she’d first joined us. I vote, no confidence and I vote for the expulsion of Eliza. Who else supports my vote?” George stood, directing his attention on Woodrow--his mouth had been poised to open when Morpheus gained his notice and he said.
“Sit the fuck down George...and shut your fucking mouth. That goes for you too Berta.”
The room fell quiet when Morpheus continued.
“Excuse my outburst.” He'd directed his eyes on Woodrow, then he inclined his head.
“Thank you for restoring order Morpheus. And now that the floor is clear...I will ask If Eliza has more to add.”
Eliza shook her head...
“No...I’m sorry but I don’t. The sources that are fueling this story aren’t directly connected to the governor and if we allow this time to play itself out; in the end, I feel certain that the Governor will remain in the clear.”
Woodrow said...
“The aim is to introduce a candidate with a past that will not distract from his objective”
Woodrow leaned into his words when he said...
“How close are we Eliza? Have you dealt with Andrew’s mistress and that woman who claims that he fathered her child.”
Eliza sighed when she said...
“I’ve located Merna Blanch, she’s the woman with the son--and sir, he’s the spitting image of Andrew. We’re still working on that...but the outlook is promising. As for Patricia DeMonte’...I’ve got a promising lead on her current location. I should have something by the time we meet again.”
“Time people....” Woodrow scanned their faces. “Time. That is a commodity that we need...but we aren’t solvent in that area.”
Woodrow looked at Eliza when he said...
“Do you think that you can clear this up in two weeks?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know. I’ve got a feeling that Patricia is out of the country. I’m working on that.”
Woodrow said...
“People...Andrew must appear squeaky clean when he steps before the cameras announcing his bid for the presidency...and we’re running out of time. We must sure up this ship...because these leaks are slowing our progress.”
Maxwell said...
“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way. The mistress and Andrews illegitimate kid aren’t the real problems...and I believe that in time, Eliza will work out a deal that will ensure their silence. As I see it, Joplin is the linchpin. If we get rid of him...”
Morpheus interrupted him saying...
“No...killing Joplin isn’t the answer. However, I do have a list of people that we might consider as potential targets. Currently, there are two families supporting Marisela Pettier in her pursuit of the truth. Eliza has been helpful in this area, and she reports that the Delors and Prescott’s have helped in a variety of ways”
Berta’s eyes grew wide when she said...
“Really! Are you serious? Are you suggesting that we remove them from the equation? We can't kill our way out of this problem! We all aren't murderers like you. If your sister were here...she would agree with me."
He glared at her, expressing his warning. They all knew not to mention his sister, yet Berta had chosen to cross that line. He reined in his anger, deciding to focus on the problem and not the bane of his existence. Amateurs he thought to himself and he regretted the day that he'd agreed to grandfather Berta in after her father died unexpectedly due to a skiing accident. Morpheus bit back his remark because in his sentence he’d planned to call her a sanctimonious cunt; but he didn’t want to offend Eliza. He’d save that insult for another time.
Instead, his tone elicited the same fear one would experience when stumbling unexpectedly upon a venomous snake.
"Berta...cut that shit out. You know as well as any of us--there is only one way out of this group. Death. So as a reminder; don’t ever let me hear the word Eliza and expulsion spoken in the same sentence. This warning also extends to the mentioning of any member of my family... Don’t fucking reference them; not by their names, or by referring to them in general terms. Don’t allude to them. Leave them out of your wisecracks or any other bullshit dreamt up in that peanut of an organ you so lovingly call your brain. Just don’t do it again...and if you forget--I can promise you...you won’t like the consequences of an unwise lapse in your memory.”
Berta recoiled, but her bravery restored itself mainly because she wasn’t alone. There were others in the room; those who’d known Morpheus far longer than her. She’d banked on their experiences and their sense of justice. She imagined that she’d not been the only bug squashed by his enormous boots. She wouldn’t accept that she alone had been the victim of his unpredictable outburst. Berta had wagered that someone else in this room felt as she did, and any minute now, they would figuratively back her up.
Berta spoke with a haughty air.
"You will not speak to me using that tone. I will not be calm." Her eyes addressed the other members seated at the table