A Sorority of Angels (32 page)

Laura never answered the phone when I called to tell her I’d be later than expected, detained with others for questioning.

Judy became the prime suspect having poured the water. No one had evidence of her guilt. Many had filed into the adjoining room. Everyone in the room prior to the poisoning was suspect including senators. Proving the action a plot solely against Bender would be difficult. Bender might have been a mistaken victim. Two other pitchers were also poisoned. Were they decoys or did someone plan mass assassinations? A mystery evolved and nobody knew anything.

Judy Heller deserved the Academy Award playing the horrified and timid female; crying and distressed.

I had permission to leave at nine-thirty; Judy at close to eleven o’clock with the last contingent, all instructed to remain in town when the questioning ended.

Where was Laura? I called three times that night and no answer.

At five-thirty, Laura’s tension grew unbearable, needing to escape from the day. Maybe the problem would go away when she woke up. She swallowed two sleeping pills and shut down like the lights.

I found her snuggled on the sofa sound asleep. I lifted her and put her to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night, the table lamp lit. Laura sat in bed shaking, a horrible look on her face.

“Laura, what’s wrong? Honey, what is it?” She had a faraway look whose intensity scared me. I leaped out of bed and ran around to her side to hold her. “It’s me, Adam. Laura? What is it? Honey, tell me.”

I held her as tight as I could, a security blanket. I felt her relaxing. I kissed her head, face, and neck to add comfort.

“Adam.” Her voice was weak.

“Yes, love.”

She wrapped her arms around me.

“I had a bad dream. I’m sorry I wakened you.” She cried. “I don’t want to lose you or be away from you. Hold me. Don’t let me go away.”

The reason for her rambling must connect to the nightmare. I held and comforted, compassionate. She soon slept in my arms as I stroked her head. I propped against the headboard to make her comfortable. With my arms holding her snugly, I slept.

Uncomfortable sleeping that way, I awoke twice afraid to move, to disturb her secure and peaceful sleep.

The phone woke me at ten o’clock. I grabbed it in the middle of the second ring. “Hello.” Whoever called, hung up. I cursed the wrong number and lay there waiting for Laura to open her eyes. I kissed them open in the next minute. When they opened, she thrust out of my arms, startled. Then she reined her senses seeing me.

“Forgive me. I didn’t know where I was. I must have ruined your night.”

“You had a nightmare, never seen you so frightened, unlike you. What time did you go to sleep? I came in after ten and you were curled up on the sofa.”

“I took sleeping pills. I get nightmares when I take those damn things. I should know better by now.”

“Take a shower to pick you up and breakfast will await you. Okay?”

Laura quick-kissed me as she nodded. I left. She left for the bathroom. What had happened increased in her mind with the new day. The threat remained a shroud.

I was in the middle of buttering the toast when she came in and hugged me tight. She wore her robe. She hugged me tighter, as if trying to blend with me as I try to do with her when making love.

“I love you, Adam. I love you.”

Laura acted strange, peculiar, unlike the Laura I knew: positive, bold, confident, and defiant – more like a little girl looking for affection to give her strength to banish whatever frightened her; like hiding from a lightning storm. I held her for as long as she wanted, and needed. Then the smile returned. Color returned to her cheeks with a gleam in her eyes.

“I should have married you long ago,” she said.

“Aha! You’re weakening. Do it today. Let’s drive up to Maryland.”

She flipped my lower lip with her finger.

“Not yet.”

I served her and sat for breakfast.

“You must’ve had a hectic day over there,” she said.

I had a mouthful of eggs. “An incredible day. I can’t imagine how they’ll ever catch the person or persons responsible.”

Laura froze. Paranoia came back. “Persons?”

“It could have been an organized plot, a terrorist group. I can’t imagine how they got in. People were scared to death they’d be accused and held terrified of the publicity, why the authorities approached with caution, reluctant to hold anyone until there’s proof. Who wanted to kill at least three senators? And which three? I could’ve been poisoned. I drink that water. Everybody else in the room does. Someone must hate Bender to kill him in front of millions of viewers. I may have to go back today. Would you like to go with me? You can wait outside.”

“No. Between my nightmare and chills, I should rest. Why don’t we take in a happy movie tonight? I need to laugh today, to keep the nightmare from returning.”

“A movie it is. I felt sorry for Judy, him dying that way before her eyes. Did you hear her scream? Horrible. I thought they were going to charge her. Her reaction to seeing Bender dying lent credibility to her innocence. The record shows she was his loyal and dedicated aide with the longest service. It’s a government investigation and those things take forever. Unless somebody confesses, they’ll never find the assassin or assassins.”

“Maybe somebody will confess.”

“People with causes don’t admit to anything unless they or their group can benefit from the publicity. Like terrorist groups around the world who confess their actions to bring focus on their cause.”

“Maybe it wasn’t a terrorist group.”

“I’m not saying it was. I mean whoever was responsible, outside a publicity group, won’t get caught.”

“You think so?”

“Positive. If they charge somebody without a confession, I’d defend him in court. I’ll get him off.”

“Open and shut?”

“Sure unless forensics proves different. Many people were milling about those pitchers, touched by many, filled and refilled, any of thirty to forty people, a good case for Sherlock Holmes – clever and diabolical. Somewhere down the line, there may be a slip up. The authorities have to deliver someone. After all, the murder was on TV. That ends Cyrus Bender. What a way to go – nobody deserves that ending, no dignity. He didn’t deserve dignity either because that’s not how he lived his life. You’re saying little this morning.”

“You’re doing enough for two.”

“What was your reaction watching on television?”

“It knocked the wind out of me. Bender made boring hearings exciting. What did Senator Josephs say?”

“The poisoned water could have been for him. Other senators also think it might’ve been them. One senator declared the act as an all out attack from subversives taking over the government and he wanted Homeland Security alerted. The FBI was on alert. No other official anywhere was poisoned or killed.”

I received a call at two o’clock to return to the hearing room to review my actions that day. At three o’clock, the phone startled Laura.

“How do you feel today?” Judy asked.

“Oh, er…fine. How about you?”

“I called this morning from a pay phone but had to hang up. Adam answered. What do you think?”

“Too stunned to think. Where are you?”

“I’m on a pay phone, on the way to the hearing room, avoiding using my cell. I have to go through more questioning. I’m calling to tell you not to worry about me. They believe my innocence. Did you hear about the other pitchers?”

“Yes.”

“Brilliant, wasn’t it? I cannot believe how relieved I feel that Bender is gone from my life. I’ll call you in a few days. They might trace calls as investigative activity. Take care and relax. We’re in this together. As soon as I obtain permission to leave town, I’ll visit you for a few days. I have something important to do then we can spend more time together.” Silence. “Laura, you there?”

“I hear you.”

“Bye, sweetheart. It’s a time for celebration.”

When she hung up, ‘we’re in this together’ is what Laura remembered. Laura didn’t dare offend Judy for fear Judy may lose control and implicate her. The crisis was over Laura’s head, beyond her control. Judy was in a position to control Laura’s life, a form of implied extortion.

Laura could have handled involved with a scandal, not this. What she said at the Achilles Heart meeting came back haunting – It is one thing to say you will do something and another to do. Laura would never assassinate anyone. Here she was an accomplice, by proxy, if considered one by authorities.

Was Laura legally a criminal? How could she find out? Whom could she ask? I’m a lawyer but couldn’t ask me. Automatically, she assumed being an accomplice having planted the seeds of destruction.

Then Laura believed she’d never be involved.

Judy was confident, strong.

No way would Judy break.

Night came to Washington with a full moon, pale and domineering adding brilliance to the lit Capitol Dome.

Judy left the hearing room for her car in the parking area and waited. She was free. Bender was history. Investigators finished with her; mission accomplished; one down, one to go.

She may strike as desperate authorities searched to blame the poisoning on someone. She had formulated her new plan, and authorities would have the killer of Senator Cyrus Bender. She reached over the front seat for the ashtray, lifted the cover, withdrew an aluminum foil packet, undid the foil and checked the number of poison capsules, four. She refolded the packet placing it on the seat next to her then waited for her prey.

Her mission was clear and focused.

Kill me, the other obstacle.

Run me over then place the poison in my pockets, and be blamed for Bender’s death. My death would be an unfortunate accident. Her first choice was to poison me to appear I committed suicide with the same poison due to guilt feelings. I would have the poison capsules on me. Hitting a pedestrian, killing a pedestrian wouldn’t put her in prison – an accident, and a coincidence that we knew each other.

Impatient, she left the parking area to wait by the bus stop. The area was darker there lacking the extra splash of monument light. She parked near the corner at the far end of the bus stop street, searching for my arrival. Realizing she forgot something, she reached into the glove compartment for pliers, left the car, and walked to the rear. The locality was sparse, a few people. Unseen, she smashed the small license plate lights. She reentered the car positive no one noticed. In ten minutes, I appeared at the bus stop. Two other people waited. She watched my every move. Rage and venom against me increased as she stared at me from the distance, her dagger-throwing trance disrupted by the groaning bus approaching from behind to pass her. She watched the bus discharge and pick up passengers. She focused on the bus stop to assure I boarded. I did. She followed the bus to my stop, monitoring each stop to make sure I hadn’t exited.

Another person got off with me in Alexandria. My apartment was a short distance; three streets from the bus stop – better than commuting by car. I promised to take Laura to a movie. We could make a late show after dinner, maybe not. Famished, I ate only donuts and coffee since leaving Laura and acid indigestion waited.

I headed towards my apartment, away from the active thoroughfare, down the tree-lined streets.

Judy stalked me keeping a street’s distance. As I approached the corner, she increased speed gauging her movement. The timing would be perfect, to strike when I reach the middle of the street with no way to escape.

I approached the corner and looked around for moving cars. I stepped into the street. The black car approaching the intersection didn’t signal to turn. Judy increased her speed. I was in perfect position. Judy accelerated with tires screeching as she turned and drove towards me.

The screech alerted me and when I turned, the car came fast towards me. I jumped out of the way, the car whizzing by missing by inches. The car careened and weaved down the street from sudden force. Judy cursed the lost opportunity as she lowered her body to avoid recognition.

I watched the car vanish when it turned at the next street as I damned the driver, unable to read the idiot’s darkened license plate.

The jolt of the near death experience dissipated. I shrugged the incident off as a bad moment. When Laura asked about my day, I said, “I nearly got killed by a drunk driver.”

The cyanide poisoning dominated the talk of Washington offices on Monday.

They postponed the hearing until next week, after the funeral. Although her boss died, Judy attended work as usual on Monday. The national funeral was on Wednesday and work needed to continue. I got the impression Judy worked little that day. I felt she stalked me, prowling everywhere. I forgot about her or cared because I was busy, even skipped lunch.

I worked late that day and left at nine o’clock. I never minded working late. No one waited at home. Laura returned to New York. The night air, a reminder of my fatigue and hunger as I lingered for a few minutes, cleansed my daily confined atmosphere.

The beautiful evening required a walk. I found myself by the Jefferson Memorial and Highway Bridge. From there I hailed a taxi for a local restaurant near the apartment. I enjoyed a leisurely meal, two glasses of California red, paid the bill, and headed for home.

Night was peace and contentment with the lull of the discreet neighborhood on a late night. I had a distinct notion somebody watched me. That feeling lurked since I left my office. Was it the FBI? The police? Was I a suspect? I expected surveillance.

The street had life. A man with khaki shorts and a sweatshirt walked his sheepdog – actually, it left a memento by the curb. Two elder women walked hand in hand, arms entwined. Why out so late? The drone from the avenue behind me faded as I walked farther away. I chanced to look over my shoulder and saw a car turn into the street and double-park, its lights going out. No one exited.

When I reached the first of two intersections before the apartment, I was on guard, defensive, the memory of that drunken driver still vivid. The streets lacked moving cars as I crossed. The man with his sheepdog and the two women were behind me. An electric guitar sound drifted from a basement across the street. The house I passed had its television on obvious by the dull and flickering blue light. A few lights were on in the private homes, no other life besides night insects’ sounds.

I strolled to the other street and reached the corner – no moving cars. My apartment building was on the corner. I crossed diagonally towards my home.

I walked in the middle when the black Honda Civic raced from a parked position by the apartment. The sudden engine burst alerted me. I ran like a bat out of hell and dove behind the light pole. Another second and I was a goner. The force and sudden turn sent the Honda careening down the street losing control. It sideswiped a parked car. The car near the avenue that had double-parked turned on its flashing blue lights. The Honda’s driver had to see the official lights, panicked, and attempted to turn into the next street to get away.

The turn was fast and late. The Honda hammered into a tree like thunder. The impact crushed. I picked myself up brushing off and ran towards the car that tried to kill me twice. I wasn’t concerned about the driver’s safety. I needed to know the identity of the idiot who wanted to kill me. Twice went beyond coincidence. The car with the blue lights rushed to the impact area and two men rushed out. House lights went on. The local residents came to satisfy curiosities. The tree demolished the Honda. By the time I arrived, one of the men tried to open the door. He couldn’t. Gasoline spread over the area, its stench obvious. He ran to his car for a flashlight. The other man ran to the nearest home for a hose to wash down the gasoline before a fire started. The one with the flashlight rushed back and flashed the light into the front seat illuminating the interior.

I had to see the driver. When the light told me, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Judy Heller was dead, mangled in the wreckage.

The other man came back with a hose, a neighbor, and a crowbar. He drenched the area as he used the crowbar on the door, wrenching it open. They removed her bloodied body, placed her on the sidewalk, checked identification, and then covered her with a blanket.

I wanted to help but couldn’t function. My mind suspended elsewhere unable to comprehend why Judy wanted to kill me. The two men were thorough and efficient, the situation under control. My help was unnecessary. I was dazed, unbelieving.

I strained to unravel the puzzle when a man from the blue lights approached, neatly dressed, in his early thirties, and official looking. A crowd gathered. Distant sirens sounded.

“Mr. Adam Churchill?”

How did he know my name? I looked at him curiously.

“Yes?”

“May I see you alone for a moment, sir?”

We walked about fifteen feet from the crowd then he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled his identification.

“Agent Joe Masterson. Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

That made sense. “Were you following me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure I know why. Under the circumstances, I’m glad.”

“We know you knew Judy Heller. Have you any idea why she wanted to run you down?”

“None. I was shocked it was her.”

“We found this in the car.”

Agent Masterson held an aluminum foil with the four poison capsules.

“What is that?”

“I think the capsules are cyanide poison. There’s a faint bitter almond odor. We’ll run a check. Maybe we found Senator Bender’s killer. Have you any reason to believe she’s the one?”

“No. I can’t believe Judy could do such a thing, or believe she wanted to kill me. Makes no sense.”

“Maybe she targeted everybody on the Committee. Thank you for being cooperative. I need your statement regarding this incident.”

“Whatever you want.”

I made my eyewitness statement. Distant sirens approached. When an ambulance and police arrived then a tow truck, the accident disappeared. Agent Masterson alerted me as to what could come tomorrow.

“Again, thanks for your help. We need to question you further as to why she was after you. We will call you tomorrow. Maybe she was after you at the hearing, not Senator Bender, and if so, why?”

“What? Come on. That’s absurd.”

“Everything’s possible. I’m sure you know we look under every rock. Be available.”

The capsules checked; the same poison killed Bender. The next day, the FBI questioned me for four hours. I persuaded them I had no idea why Judy Heller killed Bender and why she tried to kill me. I also agreed to submit to a lie detector test offering to take the test. At the end, they seemed satisfied with me and the test was unnecessary.

Case closed.

Between last night and grueling questioning today, I forgot to call Laura to tell her about Judy. She must’ve heard the news and had to know what happened. The story dominated the news services.

Laura wasn’t home when I called and when I redialed an hour later. I tried again in thirty minutes and the line was busy. By ten o’clock, the phone remained busy. With impatience, I asked the operator to check the number, to cut in that an emergency existed. To me it was. She confirmed no conversation was taking place.