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Authors: Ronald Watkins

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BOOK: Shadows and Lies
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"It's okay. You can't succeed at everything. It was the country's loss, not mine. Go ahead.”

“That's about it. No children. You're the most popular, or controversial, First Lady since Eleanor Roosevelt and either way are credited with redefining the role of the President's wife. You've come a long way since Shalom. We're all very proud of you."

"You're leaving out things. Be candid now."

Powers paused. "If that's what you want. You're under investigation by a special prosecutor for fraud, something to do with state bonds and arbitrage. It's mostly been a political issue until now but many columnists are saying you'll be indicted after the election."

She flinched at that. "What else?"

"There's your husband."

"What about him?"

"I don't need to say it."

"That he's a womanizer? No, you don't. You just need to hear me say that it's true. Much worse than the stories you've read." She put out her cigarette. "You understand I'm trusting you here, Danny. Trusting you like I've never trusted anyone in my life."

"No one is perfect, Becky. None of us, I suspect, is ever the kind of adult we thought we'd be as children."

"Is that ever true," she said bitterly as she reached over and drew the pack of cigarettes to her then lighting another. "Do you remember the floating dock at Lake Taneycomo?"

"Of course." The image that flashed before him was not the lake, but the first time he'd seen her naked. It was etched in his memory like a subtle Rembrandt hanging in his living room.

“When we first went up there after school was out, the water was so cold, but none of us would stay out of it. We'd swim to the dock then lay in the sun, goose bumps all over, freezing until the sun warmed us. If it was windy we'd have to swim back to shore and wrap ourselves in towels."

Powers recalled in a single instant the hot Missouri summers on the plateau, the cold of the pines near the lake and that first touch of ice cold water. "We were just kids."

"Yeah. Kids." She was stalling again. "You had a good marriage, didn't you?"

"I'd say so."

"Did you ever cheat on her?" she asked abruptly.

Powers considered lying for an instant but something told him she was about to lay her soul bare. "Once. She was pregnant. I was in uniform then. We had our groupies I guess you'd call them. It was just the one time."

Her look said she was disappointed in him and he felt ashamed. "Did you tell her?"

"No. It seemed bad enough I had done it without making it any worse. What could she do but be hurt by it? I just made up my mind never to do anything like that again."

Her cigarette occupied her for a long minute. "My husband cheats," she said quietly. "I think he cheated on our honeymoon if you can believe that. He cheats all the time, everywhere he can. He's very ingenious about it. We haven't slept together in six years."

"That's his loss."

Her lips turned upward in a light, grateful smile. "You're sweet. But then you'd know, wouldn't you?"

"Like I said. We were just kids."

"Old enough."

"I guess. At least we believed we were. Why do you put up with it? You deserve better.”

She looked very vulnerable. "Thanks for that. It's no secret. My career is his career. The reality is that I can do more for people with us in public office than I ever could as a lawyer. I compromised. I guess we all do eventually, one way or another." There was a long pause while she smoked some more.

"Is that what this is about? You husband's infidelities?"

"Yes. He's got girls on staff he sees and when he's on the road his people line other eager women up for him. He's generally very good about picking women who don't talk. I'll give him that. For two years now he's had a girlfriend locally. She's a stewardess with Air France and lives in Georgetown. Her name's Julie Marei."

"And you fear she's going to talk during the campaign?"

Her right eyebrow arched, the one over the grey eye. "You might say that." Her gaze glanced off his eyes like a ricochet.

"You must have people who handle situations like this."

"If we hadn't we'd never have been elected President. But there's more to this than simple damage control." She took a long pull on the cigarette like a college student inhaling marijuana. The smoke swirled around her lips as she spoke. "She has tapes of them doing it."

"I see.”

“Yes, indeed. A tape was delivered to me this morning with a note. On the tape my husband also says things about politics that would be very damaging to him. That single tape would end our re-election bid. She demands half a million dollars for her silence and the other tapes. I need someone I can trust implicitly to negotiate with her and get every one of those tapes back. More than the money, I have to know we have every one of them and that there are no copies." She spoke like someone in a very tight box.

"That's why I'm here? You want me to see this Marei woman, agree to the deal, deliver the money and recover the tapes. That's all of it?"

"That's enough, believe me. The money isn't important. It's her silence I need, but most of all I must have the tapes. I need it done tonight, if at all possible. This can't last into the convention. I couldn't bear it. The longer this takes the greater the chance for disclosure. I'll be in New York on Tuesday and again on Thursday, but I'm commuting rather than remaining there. We have a great deal to do these next days. They are critical to the campaign. I've got to have this behind us."

"I can see that, but I couldn't be entirely certain there were no copies. She could lie."

"You know people. You were a detective for over 20 years. You'd know if she was lying, wouldn't you?"

"Probably. But I'd hate to tell you I had everything and then be wrong."

"If you did say you had them all I'd know the odds were you were right. That's a lot better position than the one I'm in now."

"Is this woman in town?"

"I don't know but I assume she is. Before you leave, my assistant will give you her address and cash for expenses. I want no record of your being here, in case some part of this gets out later. It will make denial a lot easier. You'll see Alta in a few minutes. She's absolutely trustworthy and can help you." She stared dead on into his eyes searching for a commitment. "Will you do it for me?"

"Of course."

"That's a relief.”

I should see the note."

"I tore it into a dozen pieces and flushed it. I guess that was stupid, but I was really upset."

"I should also talk with your husband. He knows I'm doing this, doesn't he?"

"Yes. We just... spoke... about it. Is it really necessary for you to see him?"

"I need to know about her, about their relationship. If his women generally can be trusted, why can't this one? The more information I have the smoother this whole business will go. I should understand the woman as much as possible in case this proves not to be simple."

Fear crossed her face for moment. "That make sense. He's in a meeting but I'll pull him out." She rose and ran the palms of her hands along her thighs, straightening her skirt as she did. "This way." She glanced at Powers over her shoulder as they walked to the door and said, "You can wait in the Oval Office." She smiled grimly but with an air of irony. "That's where they plotted Watergate, you know."

 

 

THREE

 

The West Wing, 7:33 p.m.

The President's office was larger than Powers expected. He had seen it depicted in films and photographs but the reality was much more impressive. Weaved into the ocean blue carpet was the seal of the President of the United States. Former presidents, including Lincoln and Washington, stared down from oil portraits. The Oval Office emitted a subtle aura of power and tradition. Exactly what it was designed for, Powers considered. He sat alone in one of the straight back chairs for long minutes then moved to examine the odd glass in the windows behind the President’s desk. They appeared to have a vaguely greenish hue but he couldn't be certain if it wasn't just the fading daylight from outside. He was momentarily surprised to see the panes were nearly six inches thick. The glass would probably stop an anti-tank rocket, he thought before returning to his seat.

It was over half an hour before the door burst open and President Tufts entered with a flourish, the familiar expression of concern fixed on his face. He was taller than Powers expected, bigger overall, but it was that soft flesh the clumsy kids at school had been wrapped in, the ones who hoped to make the football team but didn't have the coordination, strength or guts for it. The ones who cried when they were hit.

The President extended his hand. "Danny Powers. It's good to meet you at last." His mellow, Yale trained voice bore only the faintest trace of his Southern origins and radiated sincerity. Powers had heard him on the campaign trail. The farther south of the Mason-Dixon line he traveled the more the product of his advance education was replaced by the good ol' boy drawl of his native state. "Becky has spoken of you often over the years. We're deeply grateful for your help."

The clasp was surprisingly soft. Powers supposed if he had shaken as many hands as this man he'd have a light touch as well. "The pleasure's mine, sir. I'm sorry to have interrupted you and wouldn't have if your wife hadn't impressed on me the need for urgency. I know you've got important matters on your mind."

The President took a seat on a couch and gestured for Powers to sit across the long glass topped coffee table from him. "I placed a meeting of the National Security Council on hold to speak with you. I drew a lot of dirty stares I can tell you, and we don't have long." He suddenly appeared older than his years. "There's a lot about this job the public doesn't understand. The pressures are incredible. I don't think it's an overstatement to say that tens of thousands, very likely millions, of lives are at stake in the Gulf. The decisions we reach tonight and in the next week or two will be critical for the security not just of the United States but of the world. This crisis isn't about the price of oil. I wish it were that simple. No, it's about... Sorry, I've got a lot on my mind. You're not here to listen to a lecture." Then Tufts flashed a boyish grin. "I talk too much anyway."

It was impressive, Powers had to admit. The man oozed authority and self-confidence. Yet at the same time he also made you want to pop open a brew, plant your feet on a porch rail and shoot the breeze.

"I need to talk to you about Julie Marei."

"So I understand. I guess I was leading up to that when I talked about the pressures of this job. We all need releases. As a man, I know you can understand that. Becky says I should talk to you in confidence and that's what I intend to do. I've bent the Sixth Commandment in my time. Haven't we all? But it's never meant anything. It was just a way to relax, to escape the burdens of this office. You can understand that I hope."

"I'm not here to judge. I just need to know more. How long have you been seeing Marei?"

"I guess two years or so,

he briefly paused ensuring the estimate, “about that."

"How did you meet?"

"At a diplomatic cocktail party. I used to go to those when I was first elected. It was at one of the smaller embassies, I'm not certain which. She was there with her father. He's quite a gentleman. Lives in Manhattan. We started seeing each other after that."

"She's a flight attendant?"

"Yes. Air France. Her schedule's a bit irregular, but then so's mine."

"Where did you meet with her?"

Tufts cleared his throat and shifted himself slightly. "At her place primarily. She lives alone in a Georgetown apartment."

"How could you manage that? You've got a security detail, you're well known. Didn't people see you going in and out? Weren't there questions?"

"We were careful, healthily paranoid I’d say. I always went late at night. Discreet agents would radio when the hallway was clear. One of my staff drove me in his car." He glanced up sheepishly. The modulated Yale tones had slowly slipped out of his speech. "I'd lay down in the back seat so as not to be spotted. I'd wait outside the back entrance then when we got the word I'd go straight to her apartment. It was only a few feet. I'd wear a hat and overcoat. No one ever saw me."

"What is she like? As a person, I mean."

"She's quite beautiful. Not yet 30 years old, I'd say. Great body. She speaks with a wonderful French accent. She's from there originally. I don't know how to describe her. She's soft spoken. Attentive. I don't know what you're after."

"Is she loyal?"

"Absolutely. She's kept her mouth shut for over two years. That's why I find this so... perplexing. She's not the kind to blackmail or threaten exposure. She believes in me, believes in what I'm trying to do for this country, for the world. She's absolutely trustworthy. I
know
! And she's not hurting for money. She does okay with her job, but her folks are rich and generous with her. She's gonna make out all right. That's another reason she wouldn't do anything like this. Her father's business would suffer from the adverse publicity. I told Becky that someone must be putting her up to it and she went nuts on me. I know it will make matters worse if it's the case, but the God's truth is I just can't see Julie doing this. It's impossible."

BOOK: Shadows and Lies
4.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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