The Washington Lawyer (30 page)

“Ms. Boyd, I told you everything I know. Isn't that enough?”

“No, not for me. I have a right to know who the SOB is.”

“Why?”

“He has to pay for what he did.”

“He didn't do anything. It was an accident. She drowned.”

Looking at him, she decided he wouldn't bend on this issue.

“Now I've told you everything about my relationship with your sister.”

“Not everything. You didn't tell me that she expected you to marry her. Did you?”

“I never once said anything to her about marriage.”

Relying upon what Susan had told Allison, but not wanting to involve Vanessa's committee colleague, whom Jasper could punish, Allison said, “Really. Before the weekend, she told me that she expected you to ask her to marry you.”

“If she said that, she was unfortunately mistaken. I would never have left my wife and kids.”

Allison decided to try a shot in the dark. The Chinese had been so anxious about the mysterious CD they believed Vanessa had possessed. She wanted to gauge Jasper's reaction.

“What about the CD?” Allison asked.

Jasper sat up with a start. He looked white as a sheet.

Pay dirt, Allison thought.

“What CD?” he asked weakly.

“The one my sister had.” Allison was flying blind. Going on instinct. “The one she told you about.”

“There never was a CD.” He looked terrified. “It was all fabrication on her part.”

“Why? To induce you to marry her?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“What then?”

“I have no idea what she was talking about.”

She guessed that under the pressure of the moment, Jasper had told her too much, and he realized it. But he couldn't take it back.

“This discussion is over,” he said. “I've told you what you wanted to know. Go now and leave me alone.”

She got up and left the restaurant.

* * *

As Xiang sat in his office in the Chinese Embassy, Liu's words, telling him not to pursue Allison any longer reverberated in his brain like an old vinyl record that was stuck in one place.

Xiang had never disobeyed an order of Liu's, but this time he had to. The continual pain in his nose left him with a burning desire for revenge. But even more than that, he had bet his own life and those of his parents that the CD didn't exist. What if he was wrong? The three of them would die, he was convinced.

Even if there was a CD, he could emerge unscathed if he found it and destroyed it. That was easy to say, but he'd been searching without success for days for that damn CD.

At this point, he was convinced Vanessa had not hidden it. He had looked in every conceivable place.

If she didn't hide it, what did she do with it?

Then it struck him. Vanessa and Allison were more than twins. They had an incredibly close bond. Allison was risking her life to avenge Vanessa's death.

That must be the answer. Vanessa sent the CD to Allison for safekeeping.

He was also convinced that Allison hadn't seen the CD. In fact, she didn't even know about it until he had told her about it.

He went on line and checked Allison's Facebook page. She said that she had taken off from teaching this semester to work on a dig in Israel. Probably she had flown from Israel to Ohio for her sister's funeral. And from there to Washington. Never stopping in Providence, where she lived and taught at Brown. So if Vanessa sent the CD to Allison in Providence, it would be waiting for her there. At her home or office.

He searched some more on the Internet until he had a home address for Allison and the address of the department of archeology at Brown. Then he checked airline schedules. It was too long until the next plane to Providence. He decided to fly to Boston and drive down. There was no late evening plane back to Washington, but he could drive to Washington from Providence.

He'd have to leave enough time to get back to Washington for his five o'clock meeting with Jasper in Rock Creek Park tomorrow morning. Regardless of what happened in Providence, Xiang had to make that meeting. Jasper had promised to bring the Pentagon's five-year plan.

Nothing could stop Xiang from being there.

* * *

From Bistro Francais, Allison and Paul went back to Paul's house where she told him what transpired in her conversation with Jasper. When she was finished, he asked. “What do you intend to do now?”

“Take the story to the
Washington Post
?”

“Why? To destroy Jasper?”

“Not just that. He refused to tell me who arranged to move the body. If the
Post
gets on the story, they'll dig that out.”

“They might not believe what you tell them about Jasper. He is a powerful man in this town. They won't just take your word for it.”

She took out her cell phone and held it out. “They'll hear it all in Jasper's own words. I had my phone recording.”

His head snapped back. “Wow! I'll never underestimate you.”

“Jasper's a miserable disgusting sleaze bag.”

“That may be, but there are risks for you in going to the press.”

“What do you mean?”

“They always put their own spin on stories. I loved Vanessa, but as you know, she slept with many senators and congressmen. They'll focus on her sexual activities. After all, this was a weekend tryst between a senator and a very sexually attractive aide, and presumably one of many such adventures. I don't want you to be hurt.”

As she weighed what Paul said, he continued. “I've had a few experiences of my own with the press which haven't been so good. Hell, look at what the
New York Times
did to Martin and me about our Guantanamo case. They totally twisted the facts. Martin was furious and he got a retraction, but still—hey! That's an idea. Why don't I set a meeting for you with Andrew Martin. He's had lots of experience dealing with the press. He'll be a good sounding board. You don't have to listen to him.”

Allison was skeptical. “I know you have a high opinion of Martin, but what can he do for me?”

“He has superb judgment. He gives people advice in tough situations. And he's dealt with the Washington press a lot. What can you lose? Just an hour of your time.”

She thought about what Paul had said. She had no doubt that he had her best interests at heart. Perhaps she was acting rashly. Talking to Martin would be a sanity check. She was at a critical juncture. She didn't want to overlook anything.

* * *

Martin was sitting at his desk, trying to concentrate on a brief, but all he could think about was being chief justice.

His phone rang. He could tell from caller ID that it was Paul on his cell. “Yes, Paul.”

“I wonder if I could ask you a personal favor.”

“Sure.”

“Remember I went to Ohio for a funeral?”

“Yeah. Vanessa Boyd. A Hill staffer you dated.”

“That's right. Well anyhow, her twin, Allison, is in Washington and she needs some advice. I told her you're the one I always turn to. And I was wondering …” Paul sounded nervous. “I was wondering if I could impose on you to meet with her this afternoon. I know it's a bad time for you with the Supreme Court, the FCC decency case, and everything else. But she won't take much of your time. I mean as a favor to me.”

Martin abruptly felt vibrant, alive. This was a gift from the gods. He'd convince Allison to get off this kick and go back to her own life. Having Paul there would be a huge plus.

“Of course. I'll do it. What time?”

“We can be there in an hour.”

“I'll be expecting you.”

Martin placed down the phone, wondering if he should level with Allison. Tell her what happened Sunday night when Jasper called. He paced, weighing the pros and cons. No, too risky, he decided. He didn't know Allison and what if she were to take this story to the press? It all seemed so unfair, he thought. Sure he had been wrong to have made that stupid call, but Vanessa was already dead. It was an accidental drowning he had nothing to do with on a faraway beach. Why should he have to pay such an incredibly high price for one mistake with all the good he'd done?

And the consequences for Jasper? Hell, after what Wes threatened, why should he give a shit about Jasper? No, the only way was to persuade her to back off. But no threats or rough talk. He would appeal to her intelligence. And there was something to be said for leaving it alone. She couldn't bring her sister back. And it had been an accident.

He walked over to the credenza, picked up the family picture, taken on the beach in front of the house in Anguilla, and placed it in a drawer.

* * *

Allison followed Paul into Martin's office. Paul made the introductions.

“You're a busy man, Mr. Martin,” Allison said “I appreciate your taking the time to meet with me.”

“For a friend of Paul's, I make time.”

“He tells me you're a legend in the legal world. That you should become chief justice. From the
Wall Street Journal
profile of you, I have to agree.”

“What did you particularly like in that article?”

Without hesitating, she responded. “Three sentences. ‘He's a pragmatic idealist.' ‘He's apolitical, but public spirited,' and ‘Under that thick head of brown hair lies a steel trap of a legal mind.'”

“Hey, you remember that article better than I do. The one Potts wrote in the
Post
wasn't nearly as flattering. In fact, not flattering at all. And the
Times
has been beating me up about Guantanamo.” He laughed. “You read the right article. What do you do, Allison?”

“I'm on the faculty at Brown University.”

“Specialty?”

“Why do I feel as if I'm being cross-examined?”

“Sorry. Too many years in the court room.”

“The Middle East. Specifically biblical sites. I've taken off this semester to work on a dig in Israel.”

“Let me show you something.”

Martin led her across the room to a cabinet with thick glass doors. Inside were two jugs of dark orange pottery. And a metal knife. Identification cards underneath.

“Where'd you get these?”

He smiled. “You know they're from the Megiddo excavation, and it's illegal to take them out of Israel.”

“Well, yes.”

“Many years ago, I represented the Government of Israel in a border dispute with Egypt over the Sinai. And spent a lot of time with General Dayan. As you perhaps know, he was passionate about archeology. When I had been at Oxford on a Rhodes, I studied Middle Eastern history. So General Dayan and I had long talks on the subject. We were fortunate to get a good result in the dispute, so in addition to my fee, the Israelis lent me these artifacts, to keep during my lifetime. Then they go back to Israel. It's all documented in proper legal form.”

“I'm impressed. Do you have any special security for them?”

“Our firm has guards around the clock.”

Paul chimed in. “And when you move to the Supreme Court, you'll take them with you?”

“If I do. We're still a way away from that.” He shrugged. “It's Washington.”

Martin led them to the conference table.

“Anyhow. Enough about me. Paul said, I might be able to help you.”

Allison leaned forward, looking at him. “Veteran's Day weekend, my twin sister, Vanessa, who worked for Senate Armed Services, went with a man to Anguilla and she drowned.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. So sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. Well, anyhow, perhaps it was an accident. Perhaps not. At any rate, they were staying in a villa, and the man she was with arranged for the owner of the villa to move her naked body to another beach so he wouldn't be implicated. Then he cut and ran.”

“The guy sounds despicable.”

“You're right, Mr. Martin. He's just scum.”

“Please call me Andrew.”

“At any rate, Andrew, I did a lot of digging here and in Anguilla …” She decided to omit mention of Paul's help to avoid creating a problem for him with Martin because she had taken him away from his work at the firm. She also decided not to mention the CD or the Chinese chasing her. At this point, she had no evidence that the CD and the Chinese had anything to do with what happened to Vanessa in Anguilla. Besides, she didn't want Martin to become distracted from the main issue, which was whether she should go to the
Post
with the Jasper story.

Martin was on the edge of his chair, listening intently.

“Bottom line,” she continued, “I identified Senator Jasper from Colorado as the man my sister went with to Anguilla.”

“Are you sure of that?”

“I confronted him a couple of hours ago at a restaurant, and he admitted it.” She pulled out her cell phone and held it up. “I recorded the whole conversation. What he wouldn't tell me though, was whose villa it was. The man who arranged to move the body. So I told Paul I want to take my story to the
Washington Post
, and he told me to talk to you before I did that.”

“What do you hope to accomplish by going to the
Post
?”

“I want to punish Jasper. And I figure the
Post
reporter will uncover the name of the villa owner which I haven't been able to do. What do you think?”

“First of all, let me tell you again how sorry I am about your sister. Not being a twin, I can't even imagine your grief. But … I assume you want my honest opinion.”

“Of course.”

“I think you'd be making a mistake going to the press. If you do, you'll suffer more, far more than you can imagine. The media will pounce on you, your sister, your parents, her high school classmates, her former lovers. Face it. This situation has all the ingredients of a lurid, attention-grabbing, story. Former super model. Sex with a Senator. Nude swimming. Alcohol, no doubt. Perhaps drugs.”