Shadows and Lies (10 page)

The apartment was a fairly standard, though expensively furnished brownstone. It was professionally decorated and it certainly didn't appear the place had just been moved into or that there were any plans to ever relocate. The paintings hung on the walls were less impressive than Marei's Monet, but there were more of them. There were also more chairs than normal and the long dining room table seated twelve, both suggesting to him that meetings were held here.

Alta emerged from a bathroom without her jacket or coat, her white blouse hanging completely loose. The ruined nylons were gone. The slit in the skirt was waist high and unintentionally provocative. She had scrubbed her face, straightened her hair and stood in the hallway concentrating on bending the plastic frame of her glasses. She put them on and faced him. "Why don’t you take off your coat and stay awhile? Better?"

"Much." She disappeared into a bedroom as he tossed his coat across a chair. "What did you say you use this place for?" he called out.

"Sometimes we need to hold meetings, brainstorming sessions away from the public eye and we have those somewhere like this. Occasionally a major contributor comes to town, someone we can't be seen with, and we put them up here for private discussions. We have to move to another two or three times a year. It's ideal for you. There's a taxi stand on the corner.” She came out. “I checked and the linen's fresh. Your bag was delivered earlier and there's a closet for your things. Let me see your suit." She picked over him slowly. "Not bad," she pronounced at last. "No tears I can see. Hang it up and I'll sponge it off later and do what I can for your raincoat."

Powers hung his clothes in the bedroom, placing the gun into the nightstand beside the double bed. He had taken it , and kept his possession of it to himself, because the situation had rapidly become one that had not been presented to him. Since the assault, he had been considering whether he should make a call and request his own backup team. Wouldn’t that come as a surprise to the slick Mr. Karp? Trusted friend and ally of the First Lady, on secret assignment accompanied by wise guys. He smiled at the thought. He was a big boy. There was time enough later if he honestly thought he needed help.

He washed up then examined his face. There was a slight bruise high on his left cheek but he wouldn't know how bad it would appear until morning. The ribs on his right side ached where he had fallen on the man but nothing was broken.

The adrenaline rush was only now passing but he was certain he had nothing seriously wrong with him. He'd once continued the foot chase of a cop killer for five blocks on what later turned out to be a broken ankle. He'd felt the bones fracture, one by one like twigs snapped in a row, but it had been a distant sensation, without pain at the moment. Only after the killer was dead had the pain come. He shrugged himself into a white terry cloth robe bearing the presidential seal he found hanging in the closet.

Back in the living room Alta mixed a drink. She was barefoot now and looked about 16 years old. "Scotch? Bourbon? Brandy?"

Powers started to say nothing but changed his mind. One drink would help with the pain he knew was coming. "A small brandy. I'm going to catch a bit of sleep then get a fresh start early. There isn't much time. I have a question for you though."

"Shoot," she said licking her lips after her first taste of liquor. She poured his drink.

"Do you have any idea who those men were?"

She shook her head. "None. They scared me to death. I've never been attacked before." She looked up at him. "It's the first time I ever saw anyone killed. I was looking right at him when the bullets struck. He
was
dead, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"Why did they take the body?"

"Cleaning up. It was certainly efficient, almost as if they expected something like that to happen. Who else do you think has an interest in what I'm up to?"

Alta laughed sardonically. "I'm sorry to say almost anyone, Dan. I think what just happened proves that, doesn't it? You never know. We've tried to be careful but nothing is perfect."

"Have you come up with anything left out of my briefing earlier?" He took the offered glass and downed his brandy in a single gulp.

Alta sat on the couch and he joined her. "Nothing. There's always something going on, but I can't think of a thing that might be connected to this. If there is something we find out later, please don't think I held out on you. I'm doing my best. Just remember. This is Washington. No one person in this city ever knows all there is about anything."

She handed him the remote control for the television and VCR. "Since you insisted, I've got some bedtime viewing for you. I've already loaded the tape. I might have to go into another room while you do this. Or maybe I'll just sit here and get pie eyed."

"Where was the tape?"

She turned sheepish. "In my purse. I know. You don't have to say it. It was stupid of me, but I didn't know what to do with it, and I felt safer having it with me. Can you imagine those men getting it tonight?" She was more amused than fearful of the prospect.

Powers pointed the remote and began the program. He eased back into the couch.

Technically there wasn't much to learn. It was a color recording and the President with his mistress had been taped in Marei's bedroom. The distinctive Louis XIV nightstand was visible throughout. The light had been dim but the aperture of the camcorder had opened so viewing was good, better than average, even for an amateur production.

Powers' first reaction was entirely masculine. Julie Marei was a very beautiful woman. Her breasts were smaller than American taste generally ran but her body consisted of a tantalizing symmetry that called to mind Greek statues. Her nearly black hair was thick and hung below her shoulders, and she had shaved her pubic area into a single narrow slit. She was almost girlish in manner and completely subservient to Tufts.

The President lost a lot without his suit and power tie. At times his pasty skin dominated the screen with an unappetizing expanse. Marei was obviously not comfortable with being taped and occasionally glanced apprehensively at the camcorder. Tufts moved her occasionally and complained once that she was blocking the recorder's view. Every few minutes he grinned into the lens and said, "Fuck you!" The man was drunk.

So much for surreptitious taping. The President had known and approved of it.

The sex was nothing exotic. The only part Powers found unusual was Tufts protracted delivery of cunnilingus and Marei's enthusiastic response. Then she was on top of him for a time, then he on her.

During the show Alta continued with her drink, taking a tiny sip every 60 seconds. Once she refilled her glass. At this rate, he thought, she'd pass out in half an hour. That didn't sound like such a bad idea now that he thought about it and poured himself a second brandy while the President caught his breath.

The couple on television was smoking marijuana when he sat down and having a very good time with it. Marei rolled the joints sitting Indian fashion on the bed and the President downed them nearly as fast as they were handed over. She complained he'd use all the grass himself and they both giggled about that.

"She-it!" the President said at one point, "I wish the fuck we had us some snow."

After the dope was time for fellatio at which Marie proved particularly adept. As the President moaned like a porn star, Alta shot up from the couch and rushed to the kitchen sink where Powers heard her heaving. By the time she had cleaned up, brushed and gargled, he had listened to a small portion of Tufts' diatribe against his political allies then fast forwarded through the remainder of the tape.

He handed it back when Alta returned clutching another fresh glass of scotch with both tiny hands. "Here. I've seen enough for my purposes. You'll want to find a safer place for it."

She took the tape. "Not very lady like, was it?"

"Quite the contrary. Are you all right?"

“I think so. I just couldn't stand..."

"I know."

"Doesn't he realize who he is? He acts like he's in a college fraternity or something. I don't know why it should but it makes me feel so humiliated."

"I had much the same reaction."

She sipped her drink. "Did you find what you were after?"

"It answered a few questions."

              "I don't ever want to see that thing again." She took another sip as she settled more comfortably into the couch. "I shouldn't be drinking so much. It goes right to my head. But if I don't unwind I'm going to start screaming. I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"Remain so cool all the time."

Powers smiled. "Not always. You saw me scrambling away from that guy tonight."

“I thought you handled it very well." Alta gazed at him intently then sighed. "Has anyone lately told you what an attractive man you are? You could have been a model or an actor. You aren't at all what I expected when Mrs. Tufts told me she was bringing in a former detective from St. Louis. I could see this middle aged guy, balding, big gut, crude manner, calling everyone 'babe' and smelling of the cheap whiskey he swilled from a flask in his pocket." She giggled then took another of her dainty but increasingly frequent sips. She licked her fleshy lips again then removed her glasses. "I'm blind as a bat without my glasses. That's how much I trust you. I
never
take them off unless I'm alone. Would you hold me please? I'm getting all shaky." He slipped his arms around her and felt her shudder as if she had a chill. After several minutes the shaking passed and by then he realized she was embracing him as well.

Alta looked up at him sleepily. He leaned forward and kissed her, wondering for only an instant where that came from. Her warm mouth tasted of scotch.

Alta's spoke with her lips still against his. "I know you haven't much time," she whispered. "I think you should just take me into the bedroom right now."

Her body was surprisingly ample, and later, when she came, she moaned from deep inside, a sound that could have meant either ecstasy or profound pain.

The White House, 1:47 a.m
.
             

The First Lady drew a cigarette from her pack in the dark, the flame lighting her face momentarily. Her lipstick was smeared and her hair was eschew. Her first inhale was sensuous in its length and manner. "Oh God, that feels good. I don't know if I enjoy the orgasm better or the cigarette after."

Martin Karp was still breathing hard as he straightened himself in her bed. "That doesn't say much for me, does it?" He reached for his drink.

She patted his arm. "You do just fine. No complaints here." She took another drag then said, "What did you talk to Dick about earlier?"

"I told him what Powers found."

"How'd he take it?"

"Badly. He had one of those 'I'm oh so sorry for myself' tantrums. When I left he actually told me it was too bad Marei is dead. He felt like a little action with her."

"The prick! Anything else?"

“Nothing significant."

"How did Danny seem when you spoke to him?"

"In control, but I think I threw him a few curves. Shanken's keeping a close handle on him along with that Lily." Karp settled himself more comfortably. “How certain are you about Powers?”

“Dick asked me the same question. I’m certain. Why?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t read him clearly. He was cool, almost serene. It wasn’t normal.”

“He’s been through a lot lately. I know Danny as well as I know anyone on earth. I understand what makes him tick, I know what he wants, and most of all, I
know
he’ll do almost anything for me. Stop worrying. What I’m asking, is if you think he’ll find her? I'm about to fall apart here."

Karp shrugged. "I can’t say for certain. I kept him focused on the woman. That's the main thing here, isn't it?" He finished his scotch.

"You’re annoying when you state the obvious. Getting the tapes would be nice too."

Karp took his time lighting one of his slender cigarettes. "Someone tried to kill this Powers of yours tonight. Lily saved him. We don't know who the men worked for yet but they were definitely Arabs."

"Is he all right? Can he still do the job?"

"He's fine. If anything he’ll pick up the pace."

She took time to smoke before asking. "Who do you think it could have been?"

"I don't want to speculate. We knew there was a risk he'd attract attention. We factored that in.”

"You’re doing it again, Marty.” She sighed. “God, I'm a wreck." Becky Tufts poked out her cigarette. She moved against Karp and he put his arm about her still holding his cigarette. "I wish this was over," she said wistfully.

"Very soon now," he said soothingly.

"I get so scared. I sit in my office and think about that asshole special prosecutor, Rampel. The court’s going to rule on his subpoena any day. What am I going to do if he indicts me?"

"We were careful at the time, don’t forget that and we've got a strategy that's discrediting him. I don't think he'll have the nerve. Anyway, you're the First Lady. Nothing will happen to you. It will be hard if it comes to that, but you'll come out all right."