Capital Offense Read online

  Edmund had promised these men that Warner endorsed the plan. But he’d underestimated Carolyn. The bitch. After Warner’s loss, she’d separated him from his true allies. Now, she dictated his campaign. The situation was intolerable, and Edmund held her responsible. He’d make her sorry she’d ever taken him on as an adversary.

  “How do you know about the investors in the deal?” Mort asked after a moment of silence.

  “My source informed me. The Council isn’t pleased that you neglected to inform us of your partnership with Carolyn. But that’s not my biggest concern.”

  Mort’s gaze locked with Edmund’s. “Are you telling me that Carolyn is having me investigated?” Mort said the words smoothly, but Edmund could hear the anger building.

  “I am.”

  “And how would you know any of this?”

  “My source is the investigator.”

  “Why would the investigator tell you?”

  “How do you think Carolyn ever came to hiring private investigators? These men were on my payroll first, and their first loyalty is still to me, and now the Council, of course.”

  “So, what do you suggest?” Mort asked, his eyes wary.

  “I suggest you screw her out of every penny. And do it immediately.”

  “You know, I can’t do that.”

  Edmund shrugged, but his meaning was not as benign as the gesture suggested. “You can do whatever you like, but the Council is going to demand an accounting of your actions. We trusted you. It looks like you’ve kept a secret. A very important secret. You’re going to have to make things right or this ain’t going to go so well with you.” Edmund took a sip of water.

  “I struck that deal before the Council even existed.” Mort said. “She’s a small investor, anyway. I was simply doing her and Warner a favor.”

  “You should have been forthright from the beginning. Secrets and surprises aren’t looked upon kindly. I talked to Warner about your little arrangement with Carolyn, and he had no idea you’d made it. She’s playing both of you like fiddles, and neither of you hears the music.”

  Mort’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

  “I don’t give a crap what you like. It’s time you wised up. You’re playing by my rules now.” Edmund said. “She’s ruining my son’s career. A career, I might add, that could benefit you greatly. But Warner’s pussy-whipped by the same whore that’s got her hooks into you.”

  “That’s not what I hear.” Mort remarked. “He may be pussy-whipped, but it’s not Carolyn he’s sniffing around after.”

  “Hearsay ain’t none of your regard,” Edmund said. “A man don’t know he’s been taken until the bitch leaves. And as far as I see it, you been helping her. It’s time she was shut down.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll cut her off at the knees. And I know just the man to do it.”

  Edmund followed Mort’s gaze across the room. “Bill Rudly? How can he help?”

  “The esteemed Senator Rudly has a suspicious nature. I think a few well-placed pieces of information will be just enough to set him on the warpath.”

  “Now Mort, you’re jumping off into the deep end of the swimming pond. We don’t want Warner hurt in this. You go to Rudly about Carolyn, he’ll rain hellfire down on Warner. Our goal is to save Warner’s career, not destroy it.”

  Without a reply, Mort rose.

  Edmund grabbed his arm. “This isn’t about your fucking ego. Rudly’s a bad move.”

  Mort turned and met Edmund’s glare.

  “I’ve given you a chance to make things right here,” Edmund said. “Don’t make me sorry. I’d hate to have to act against you.”

  Mort pulled his aim free, then walked away.

  Edmund took a sip of his drink. “But I will,” he whispered. “I will.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  As Senator Bill Rudly drove home from the White Cross Charity Ball, he reviewed the night’s events. The evening had been uneventful until Mort Fields approached him for a private conversation. The dialogue had been vague. Bill thought, but if he’d been reading between the lines correctly, Mort had inferred that Warner and Carolyn had been trading political favors to feather their own nest. The more he analyzed the conversation, the more he realized that Mort had specifically incriminated Carolyn. Did Carolyn trade for equity in one of Mort’s businesses?

  Bill grunted in disgust. After Warner’s airport project, the fact that the Lanes were using their political positions for financial gain didn’t really surprise him. But what would inspire one of Warner’s allies to expose Carolyn and Warner’s activities? There had to be a reason. What could possibly be motivating Mort Fields?

  Bill knew that corruption wove through politics like the intricate pattern on a snake’s back. But would vipers sharing the same pit turn on each other?

  It was twelve-thirty in Missouri, which meant two-thirty in Washington. D.C. Jack would probably still be up. Bill thought as he walked into the house. His job often kept him writing late into the night. Bill made his way into the kitchen, and picked up the phone.

  Jack answered on the third ring.

  “Were you asleep?” Bill asked.

  “No. I just finished an article on government waste. Is anything wrong?”

  “Not really. Just had an odd experience at a society event. It brought up some questions I thought you might be able to help me on.”

  “What do you know about Mort Fields?”

  “That’s a loaded question. There are a million facets to that man, but he keeps a low profile. There’s not a lot published about him. He’s one of the richest men in Missouri – in the country, for that matter, but you know that. What are you looking for?”

  “I’m not sure.” Bill proceeded to relay the conversation he’d had with Fields about Warner and Carolyn. “Mort told me he’d get some paperwork to me I might find interesting. I’m worried about the ramifications to the party if the Lanes are in business with him.”

  “Didn’t you already suspect graft?” Jack asked. “I mean, when I was home a couple of years ago, you told me you suspected they were involved in improprieties. This may be the break you were looking for.”

  “Forget the break. I’d rather the Lanes were clean and I could save the party the embarrassment.”

  “Doesn’t sound likely. And you may be getting in over your head. Dad. Why don’t you get some help on this?”

  “No. I’m not saying anything about my suspicions until I have concrete evidence. It wouldn’t be fair to the Lanes or our party. And I’ll ask that you keep it confidential as well.”

  “Sure. But why don’t you let me come down and help you? I’ll call some of my sources.”

  “No. I don’t want anyone else involved. I don’t want this leaked. If I get anything tangible, I’ll let you know.”

  “It won’t be leaked. My sources are solid.”

  “Even so. I don’t want you to do anything right now.”

  “I’m not asking in order to get the inside hack for a story. My primary concern is you. I just want to help you.”

  “Jack, your career is your life. I realize that fact. And I would never dangle a story in front of your nose and tell you to squelch it. At this point, there’s nothing solid to report, so I don’t feel as though I’m pushing your endurance. But dragging you into the middle would be unfair.”

  “I’m a grown man. I can handle the temptation.”

  “You’re a journalist.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I don’t mean it like that. Can’t we change the subject?”

  “Fine. When are you coming back to Washington?” Jack asked.

  “I have to be back by next Thursday for a vote on the budget. Will you be in town? Maybe we could have dinner. If Mort’s documents show anything substantial. I could share them with you.”

  “I’m afraid not.” Jack responded. “I’m going to Montana on Monday to cover the Unabomber case. Why don’t you let me do some checking
on Mort?”

  “No. Don’t make me sorry I discussed this with you.”

  “What’s wrong with wanting to look out for you? Like father, like son.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s late and I’m tired… I miss you.” There was a pause. “And, Jack…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m really proud of you,” Bill said softly. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself. You’re head and shoulders above the pack.”

  Silence hung on the phone line. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Bill cleared his throat, “Anyway, I’ll send you any paperwork I get on the Lanes and Fields. Maybe you’ll be able to figure out Fields’s motivation for exposing the Lanes.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  April 27,1996 – Jefferson City, Missouri

  Carolyn Alden Lane was sitting at her desk in the Cole County Courthouse when her intercom buzzed. “Yes?”“

  “Senator Rudly is here to see you.” Katherine said.

  Carolyn glanced at her calendar. There was no appointment scheduled. How odd. “Send him in.”

  Carolyn stood when Bill Rudly entered. “Senator, what a nice surprise. What brings you here today?”

  Bill shook her hand. “Quite frankly, I’m here as a professional courtesy.”

  Carolyn motioned for him to sit, then sat facing him.

  “It’s been brought to my attention that there may be some problems with Warner running for reelection.” Bill said.

  Carolyn frowned. “What are you talking about? I know we’ve gone round and round before on several issues, but aren’t you as tired of this as we are? We belong to the same political party and should be supporting each other, not constantly bickering.”

  “This isn’t about fighting, and it’s not personal. I’d love to be able to support Warner, but my first loyalty goes to this country and the people who’ve elected me. If I see something questionable, I question it. So, please, don’t insult me by suggesting that party loyalty should be the first course of business. If s not. And God help this country if that ever changes.”

  She agreed with his point; it was his delivery she found unacceptable. Carolyn smiled in an attempt to ease the tension of the moment. “I certainly didn’t mean to offend you. And I didn’t mean to infer that party politics should take precedence over integrity. It just seems that we’re often at odds, when I believe that fundamentally we share the same ideals.”

  “You’re quite chaining. Mrs. Lane. But I don’t agree.”

  If nothing else, he’s direct. Stay calm, keep trying. He’s a good man, there’s just a communication problem. “What seems to be the problem?”

  Bill leaned back. “It appears, from a conversation I’ve had with Mort Fields and some paperwork I’ve received, that you have put yourself and Warner in a compromising position for the next election. Since this involves you, I thought it best to take it up with you directly. Our party can’t afford to put forth a candidate who may have hidden questionable business dealings. So, if Warner still insists on seeking the other senatorial seat, I’m here to tell you that I’ll be requesting an investigation into these affairs. If everything’s clear, it will help you. If not, then we save the party the embarrassment.”

  Carolyn sized him up. She had to minimize the damage. Tell the truth, but let him know you’re not a pushover. “I don’t know what you or Mort Fields think I’ve done, but I can assure you that nothing’s occurred that would be considered improper. I would never jeopardize Warner’s career or the party’s position. Never.” She tucked files into her briefcase as she spoke.

  The expression on Rudly’s face told Carolyn that he’d already tried and convicted them. As a result, she found no point in continuing their meeting.

  “Unfortunately, I’m due in court in five minutes, so you’ll have to excuse me. ” she lied.

  An unruffled Bill Rudly rose. “We’re not finished with this topic.”

  “Suit yourself.” She watched him leave.

  ***

  Carolyn called Mark. “Mort Fields has gone south on us. I don’t know how it happened, but Bill Rudly was just in here claiming he’s had conversations with Mort that suggest impropriety on my part that would jeopardize Warner’s pursuit of the Senate. He said he has the paperwork to back it up. He’s going to request an investigation.”

  Mark paused. “This doesn’t sound good. Are you worried?”

  “Concerned, not worried. If he had anything concrete, Rudly would have said so. At this point, I think all he’s got is supposition. I doubt he’s even got enough to start an investigation. But we need to check it out, hire Cain to look into it.” she said. “This was a warning. What bothers me the most is Mort. I know he won’t come forward himself – he would cut his own throat in the business community. No one would ever trust him again if they believed he turned on a partner. But he obviously set this up through the back door.” Carolyn massaged the throbbing in her temples. A migraine was the last thing she needed right now.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Put Cain on Rudly, and call Fields. I don’t care if he’s angry with me. I’m still a partner in his company. Tell him I want out. He’s obviously lost faith in our deal, so he can buy me out. Otherwise, I’ll offer my shares on the open market. He’s not going to want an unknown on his board of directors, so he’ll ante up. Do we have a recent summary of value?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great. Fax it over to him. Tell him he’s got until Friday – after that I sell to the highest bidder. That company’s a hot commodity, so it won’t be hard to sell.” Carolyn took a deep breath. She was getting used to doing battle.

  “I doubt if he’s going to like the strong-arm tactics.”

  “He’s left me no choice. Feel free to tell him that.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Mark said. “Why don’t you stop by later today?”

  “I wish I could. But I have a trial starting next week and a stack of files to go through. Now this. As it is, I’ll be working until midnight.”

  “I have to work late, too. I’ll bring some Chinese food down to your office later, and you can take a short break. Deal?”

  “Deal.” Carolyn hung up.

  Her gaze fell on the chair recently occupied by the senator. She couldn’t allow an investigation. If Rudly presented these allegations to party leaders in Washington. Warner’s career would be seriously damaged, if not ruined. No matter the cost, she wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt him. Yes, she thought, this was war. And she was ready to fight.

  ***

  “Mort’s gone to Bill Rudly with his accusations, and Bill confronted Carolyn,” Mark told Edmund on the phone. “He’s going to have Carolyn and Mort’s business arrangement investigated.”

  “The selfish bastard.” Edmund said. “Mort’s gone too far. I warned him. He’s on his own now.”

  “Rudly claimed he had paperwork on the matter. This could destroy Warner.”

  “That won’t happen.” Edmund’s voice was flat.

  “What do you mean that won’t happen? Bill wants to stop Warner from being reelected. Carolyn’s dealings could provide the evidence he needs. As far as I know the deal wasn’t improper, but the wrong spin on the situation will be disastrous. Mort’s actions are causing that spin.”

  “The key to this matter is Carolyn. And Mark…”

  “Yes?”

  “Accidents happen.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about? The other Council members won’t agree to anything illegal.”

  “If we take a vote. I think you’ll find you’re wrong. Our newest members are more driven than I. Winston Cain and Richard Young helped me devise our strategy. We’ve protected our interests by hiding behind Carolyn. All evidence points at the bitch. She would take the blame for any, shall we say, mishaps.”

  “No! I won’t allow it. Granted I want my place in Washington as much as any of you, but this is going too far.” Frame Carolyn? My God.

  Carolyn thought he loved her. A
nd maybe he still did. The whole plan had been innocent enough, make a few phone calls, keep Edmund informed – just a way to get ahead, to become a player in D.C. Hell, even Carolyn was playing the Washington game. Still, he couldn’t do this to her.

  “You don’t have to like it. Just consider the matter handled.” Edmund said.

  TWENTY-THREE

  April 29,1996 – Washington, D. C.

  Long, shining black hair framed the face and upper torso of the young Asian assassin hidden in a small cluster of bushes on the Washington Monument grounds. The fragrance of freshly cut glass spiced the air, and the sun’s unseasonably warm rays peeked over the horizon. The assassin stretched her lithe limbs, as though to reach out and claim the day.

  She was attuned to every sound and nuance around her. At six A.M, the park grounds were slowly awakening to the spring morning. Birds sang and a breeze caressed her.

  Hand-picked by the CIA director himself, the woman had joined the Agency as a weapons specialist. Now, she freelanced as a mercenary.

  The assassin spotted her target jogging far off in the distance. She noted that the subject was predictably on time, coming up Independence Avenue toward the Washington Monument. Like most high-level officials, his routine was easily documented.

  Timing was critical to this mission due to the chemicals involved. A cryogenic freezing unit resembling a small, beverage cooler sat next to her.

  She marked a checkpoint and timed the subject with a stopwatch. He was moving at the expected pace. The assassin reclaimed her M21 semi-automatic rifle with a custom-made suppressor and rechecked the scope, then assured herself that the temperature on the freezer was precisely as it should be.