Capital Offense Page 9

  “Speaking of birddogs, sounds like you might have quite a catch on your hands. What’ve you got?”

  “Do we have a deal?”

  “Son, the Council don’t fuck around. And I don’t like repeating myself. I told you that if you deliver, you’ll be taken care of.”

  “Well,” Mark hesitated. It was time to move on, he told himself. Carolyn didn’t love him. And obviously she had no qualms about using him, so turnabout seemed only fair. “She’s making her move,” Mark said. “She wants me to hire that investigative firm you told her about.”

  “Do as she asks,” Edmund replied. “We’re ready for her.”

  PART II. DEBT OF DEFEAT 1996-1999

  NINETEEN

  April 24,1996 – Jefferson City, Missouri

  Warner collapsed onto the chaise lounge in the master bedroom. He had two more engagements in the afternoon before the charity ball that evening. Could he continue at this pace? he wondered. The muscles around his mouth ached from smiling.

  Carolyn was driving him hard. She insisted they attend every political and society committee meeting, every public event. And she arranged everything, down to where he sat and with whom he spoke at the receptions and banquets.

  She handed him scripts to memorize, briefing him on specific points he needed to cover with the power brokers and special interest groups. She often attended the social and political functions with him. As a couple they shined, although their personal relationship remained cold and distant. They only shared a bed so the household help wouldn’t talk.

  He walked into the bathroom, tossed back two aspirin, splashed cold water on his face, then patted it dry. His life had become a twisted circus. He rubbed moisturizer into the dark circles under his eyes.

  Granted, he was determined to win back his senatorial seat, then take the presidency. But was it worth it? Only the next election, he realized, could render that verdict.

  But my God, what a price he was paying.

  ***

  Birds chirped outside Carolyn’s window, and a soft breeze whispered through the room. In her office of their temporary home. Carolyn dialed a number long since committed to memory. “Mark, it’s me. I need to speak to you regarding Mort Fields and the equity I own in his software company.”

  “You have equity in Fields’s cherry project?” Mark’s incredulity echoed over the phone connection.

  “Yes, didn’t I tell you?” Carolyn smiled to herself. She knew she’d never revealed this secret to anyone. Not even Mark. “I set up a dummy corporation in order to avoid drawing attention to myself. There really wasn’t much to it.”

  As much as she valued Mark, never again would she allow a man to influence or control her future. However, she realized that in order to enlist his help, she’d have to disclose her financial success.

  “How in the hell did you manage that?”

  “I guess he was feeling generous when he offered me the opportunity to invest.”

  “Generous? Mort? What did you do, exactly?”

  “I know how politics can make you queasy, so let’s just leave it my little secret. All right?”

  Mark hesitated. “Promise me you’ll be careful and that you won’t take any unnecessary risks.”

  “Mark, there are some risks worth taking, and you know it.” Carolyn heard him sigh.

  “I just worry about you, that’s all.”

  His concern warmed her. “I know, and I appreciate it. But seriously, I need your help.”

  “For what?”

  “I own about five percent of the project, and-”

  “My God, you must have made millions! That company has grown exponentially Warner must be thrilled.”

  “He doesn’t know,” she admitted. “And I don’t intend to tell him. At least not yet. For now, this is strictly between us, okay?”

  “Of course. I’m just surprised. Although I probably shouldn’t be. You never cease to amaze me.”

  “That’s sweet, Mark, thank you.” Carolyn smiled. “Mort sends me regular corporate updates. I believe he’s being honest with me, but I need to be sure. I want you to do some follow-up work, look into Mort’s finances and verify the reports I’m receiving. With a privately held corporation, it’s easy to play with the numbers.”

  “Do you think an investigation is really necessary?”

  “I have to be sure the projections are accurate. Mort won’t admit it, but he leveraged himself substantially to fund this project, that’s why he gave me the opportunity to invest. He needed investors. Now, I want to be sure the company is financially solvent.”

  “He’s one of the richest men in the state.”

  “On paper that’s true,” Carolyn said. “But even rich men leverage their assets. Mort may over-finance this company to start his next venture. He’s built his entire empire that way. It’s not a problem for him because he has cash flow from other businesses, but I can’t afford to tie up my funds long-term. I need the money from this project for Warner’s campaign.”

  “I don’t like this, Carolyn.” Mark’s voice was tense.

  “It won’t hurt to check out his future projects to be sure he can cover his bets. If it looks like he’s over-extending himself, I want to sell my equity.”

  “How do you propose I do this without Fields knowing? He’s not the kind of man you play around with.”

  “I don’t play around, either,” Carolyn said. “I’ve got a lot of money on the line, and I need to protect it. I’m sure Fields has run checks on me. It’s the way things are done.”

  “I’m not comfortable with this, and I don’t understand why I should be involved.”

  Carolyn softened her voice. “Because I need your help. I trust you, and I certainly hope you trust me.”

  There was a pause. Carolyn guessed that he didn’t know how to respond, so she continued. “We’ll use Winston Cain’s investigative firm.”

  “You want to use Cain to investigate Mort Fields?”

  “Of course.” Carolyn said, surprised by the defensive note in his voice. “Contact him and hire more of his people. Oh, and Mark, make sure they’re thorough. I don’t want any surprises. Use the campaign account to hire the resources we need.”

  “Carolyn, I-”

  “Please.”

  “First of all.” he said, switching to a measured tone of logic and reason, “we can’t use campaign funds. It’s illegal. And second, what if Fields finds out you’re investigating him? I’m sure he’d be offended, to say the least.”

  “Does this assignment offend you. Saint Mark?”

  “Yes, it does. It’s not right.”

  “But it’s not wrong, either. I’m trying to protect myself, and I need your support. Mort won’t find out, and if he does, it’ll come back to me, not you. That’s a risk I’m willing to take. Warner’s future depends on my ability to anticipate problems and to deal with them effectively.” She respected Mark’s integrity, but she was sure that if he truly understood the situation he’d side with her.

  “I’m still not comfortable with what you’re suggesting,” Mark insisted.

  His obstinacy surprised Carolyn. He rarely questioned her. “Look. I know he’s a friend of yours, but this is a necessary part of politics. It’s reality. Besides. Cain’s excellent. He’s not your run-of-the-mill investigator; he’s got access to a highly trained workforce. Edmund’s used him extensively. Mort will never find out about it. And as for using the funds to hire more investigators, well, technically this is a campaign expense, so I’d argue that it’s perfectly legal.”

  “Fine,” he said.

  “Thank you.” she replied, but the line was dead.

  She replaced the receiver and sank back in her chair.

  “Damn it.” She hadn’t expected such strong opposition from Mark. Was he jealous of her commitment to Warner’s success? Probably, but she had to get around his emotions.

  Mark was the necessary intermediary for her dealings. He’d solidified her position with the big-money me
n in Missouri. A critical maneuver that allowed her to demonstrate her ability as a savvy political player by influencing local government officials and accommodating the professional needs and concerns of the power brokers. So far she’d delivered on all requests, applying subtle pressure on the pulse points necessary to motivate people to cooperate with her wishes. Now, those same money men sought her out, assuring her that they supported Warner for the Senate and possibly for higher office.

  She and Warner were going to have to continue to prove their political value to these people over the long haul to insure their support and Carolyn looked fond to the opportunity to do just that. It was how the game was played, and she liked the game. Liked it a lot.

  ***

  Mark sat with the phone to his ear.

  Edmund Lane answered the call himself.

  “This is Mark.” he said without waiting for a greeting. “We’ve got some problems. Mort Fields included Carolyn as an investor in his software company.”

  “What?”

  Mark expected the outburst. “That’s the investment she’s alluded to, but until now I didn’t have any details. She owns five percent and holds it in a dummy corporation. But that’s not the worst part. She wants me to hire Cain to investigate Mort. I tried to discourage her, but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “Don’t worry about Cain. I’ll handle him.” Edmund said, then hesitated for a few seconds. “Mort Fields is another matter. He should have revealed his partnership with Carolyn to the Council. I don’t like secrets.”

  “Or surprises,” Mark interjected.

  Edmund continued as if Mark hadn’t spoken. “If he’d been honest with us, we could have planned accordingly. Now, it’s like we’ve been caught with our pants down in a convent.”

  “Mort has also compromised our control.”

  “A problem we can contain.” Edmund said. “We may need Carolyn as a first lady, but she can’t be allowed to broaden her support base. But we’ve got to be careful. We’ve got to operate without her knowing, because we can’t afford a power struggle with her, either.”

  “Should we call a meeting to discuss the situation?”

  “No,” Edmund said. “I’ll handle Mort.”

  “What about Carolyn?”

  “Do as she asks. For the most part she’s playing nicely into our plans.”

  “Let’s just hope that Mort doesn’t tell her anything about our existence,” Mark said.

  “He may be a weasel sneaking around the hen house, but he wouldn’t be that stupid. If he did, our plans to use her as a cover would be jeopardized.”

  “Should we update the others?”

  “Let’s just keep this between us. We still need Mort, and this may work to our advantage.”

  Mark stared at the phone receiver. How far was he willing to go for a Cabinet post in Washington? He wasn’t sure, but certainly a few phone calls couldn’t hurt. He just prayed that his limits wouldn’t be tested.

  TWENTY

  The White Cross Charity Ball, held each year on the last Saturday of April in Missouri ’s capital, was the biggest and most important social event of the year. Carolyn and Warner arrived promptly at 8:00 P.M.

  “We’ll be sitting with Governor Radcliff and his wife,” Carolyn said. “Senator Rudly, and of course, Senator Green and his wife. Meet me at the table right before dinner.” They paused at the entrance to the ballroom and were announced.

  “Did you hear me?” she asked.

  Warner glared at her.

  “It took me four phone calls to obtain these prominent seats,” she said. “You could show some appreciation.”

  “Whatever.” He didn’t like her attitude. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t have anything to complain about. He was keeping up his end of the deal, more or less.

  He campaigned endlessly, gave speeches to civic clubs all over the state, and sang in the friggin‘ Baptist church choir so that he would be seen on television every Sunday next to the preacher. He had even agreed to a series of thirty-second television commercials, feeling like an idiot as he confessed all of the mistakes he’d made as a senator. Then, he asked the good people of Missouri for their forgiveness. Now that had taken balls, he thought.

  “You had better smile at me before someone notices us,” she said.

  He responded by giving her a flash of even white teeth. God, he felt like he was teetering on his tiptoes with a noose snugged around his neck.

  “I see Edmund,” Warner gestured to the left. “He’s over there talking to Bill Rudly. I think I’ll go say hello.”

  Carolyn’s face flushed, but her voice remained calm. “Don’t push me. Warner. I mean it, that’s a non-negotiable part of our arrangement. I’m history if you involve your father in our lives ever again.”

  Dinner was announced, and they took their seats. The governor and his wife were introduced to the attendees. Arriving late. Senator Jackson Green and his wife followed the governor’s enhance. Typically rude, Warner thought. The clueless couple seemed oblivious to the etiquette that was required of them.

  A ball of rage flamed in Warner’s chest. His field of vision narrowed to just the Greens, and the man who’d beaten him. The man responsible for the state of his life now. Jackson Green.

  Get control of yourself, Warner told himself, attempting to dowse his anger with a cool head. This was not the time to show weakness. In fact. Warner realized that it was a moment to show up the old farmer who possessed no more finesse than the backside of a sow. The muscles in his square jaw worked as he fought back his resentment. Green was nothing but a two-bit political hack from the Missouri backwoods.

  Warner pasted a smile on his face, stood up and excused himself

  Carolyn shot him a quizzical glance.

  Warner whispered to her that he was going to the restroom, then exited the ballroom with a confident stride.

  Inside the men’s room, he leaned forward on the sink, staring into the basin. Finally he was angry, and the anger felt good. He lifted his gaze to the bathroom mirror and stared into his own gunmetal gray eyes. It was time to regroup. Time to channel his frustration into positive action. Just a few days ago, Carolyn had asked him where his fight had gone. He hadn’t had an answer then, but now he knew it was back.

  “First step,” Warner said to himself, “regain my seat in the Senate.”

  Broad shoulders squared, he went straight to the bar in the foyer adjacent to the ballroom. What he needed was a drink. “A shot of Jack Dan-” he began, then caught himself This was not the time to tie one on. “Make that a Perrier with a lime.”

  He paid the bartender, then took a long pull of his drink.

  “Enjoying yourself, son?”

  Warner turned slowly, meeting the older man’s gaze. “I’m not your son.”

  “Watch your mouth. Your cheek ain’t too old for the back of my hand.” Edmund glanced at Warner’s glass. “That’s it, have another drink.”

  He raised his glass. “I just might. It’s Perrier.”

  “Oh. I know you better than that. What is it, vodka or gin?” Edmund threw a ten on the bar. “Have a few on me.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You need me, son. Don’t let that bitch continue to separate us. Join the Council. Carolyn’s the one you need protection from, not us. We’re behind you. I give you my word. It’s your wife who likes to keep secrets. She’s keeping you from your true supporters, and pulling you around by your dick. Call me when you’re ready to hear the truth.”

  “Quit rambling, old man.”

  Edmund’s neck flushed. “I ain’t rambling, boy. You’re being as naive and foolish as a virgin attending a slumber party at a whorehouse.”

  “That’s priceless. You calling me a virgin among whores.”

  “Speaking of whores, ask yours about her partnership with Mort Fields. She’s pulling her panties over your eyes, and making deals behind your back. You tell her she’d better watch her step, or I’ll enjoy watching her fall.”
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br />   Warner’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Mort Fields? What-”

  “Enjoy your evening, son.” The senior Lane turned and walked away.

  Warner had watched those well-staged exits his entire life. He’d always hated them. He hated them even more now, just as he hated Edmund Lane. But was Edmund telling him the truth? Was he, in fact, an ally, in spite of the animosity he inflicted on the man the world thought was his son?

  ***

  Returning to the ballroom. Edmund Lane made his way between the tables until he reached his own, and took his seat just as Governor Radcliff completed his remarks.

  “What did you think of the speech?” Mort Fields asked.

  “I didn’t really listen. Radcliff has very little to say that interests me.”

  “I’d agree with you there.”

  Edmund lowered his voice. “Mort, we need to talk.” He paused. “There’s something that I have to tell you, but it puts me in a bad spot. Puts you in an ugly light too.” Edmund glanced around the table. Everyone was involved in conversation or getting up to dance.

  Mort took a sip of his drink, waiting for Edmund to begin.

  “I’ve recently learned that you’re the subject of an investigation.” Edmund said, then waited to see Mort’s reaction. There was none.

  “It’s not the authorities. It’s a private job.”

  Mort swirled the ice in his glass, and stared out at the people on the dance floor. “Who’s investigating?”

  “I’m getting to that. It’s one of your partners in the software company.”

  Edmund saw Mort’s jaw tighten. Even if he couldn’t shoot Carolyn himself, Edmund thought, he could load the gun and hand the weapon to someone else. If he could effectively neutralize Carolyn, then Warner would join the Council and return to his control. Divide and conquer, he thought.

  He’d invested too much in Warner to be cut out now. Edmund believed he had a right to share in Warner’s success. A success in politics that he’d facilitated by grooming his son for years. Hell, he’d begun the Council for the boy. Pooling the resources of rich men in order to influence Warner’s political future in the country was no small feat. Even though the plan was simple. As a coalition, together they’d put Warner in the White House. In return, he would reward them with powerful government posts.