After the Execution (8 page)

G
IDEON
C
RANE
KNEW
he’d already drunk too much. He was slurring his words and feeling light-headed. He would have to ease up if he was going to avoid getting completely smashed.

It was only eight o’clock. The evening had barely begun. Pauline’s brother, Travis, and his girlfriend Cindy, had come over as planned to celebrate Thanksgiving, as well as Lee Jordan’s execution.

The four of them were now sitting around the dining table, working their way through their third bottle of wine. The dinner plates had been cleared and Crane was trying to look as if he was interested in the inane conversation. But he had too much on his mind to focus. That was why he was drinking heavily. He was desperate to quell the hysteria that was rising in his gut.

He’d been disturbed by a sense of monstrous tension since
returning
from Beth’s apartment at about three. The theft of her diary and the text message sent to his phone had really got to him. Pauline had made things worse by refusing to cancel the dinner, telling him that she was determined to salvage something from what had been a miserable day.

As a result he’d had to put up with her brother’s annoying drivel and grating arrogance for the past hour. Travis was in his late forties. He was a whippet-thin man with sunken cheeks and unruly fair hair. He ran a small and moderately successful private investigations agency in Houston. Crane reckoned he was well suited to the job because he was sleazy and without scruples. He was also addicted to gambling, and on three separate occasions over the past nine years Crane had had to bail him out when he couldn’t pay his debts.

Only two months ago Travis had approached Crane for more money, this time the princely sum of twenty thousand dollars. But Crane had
turned him down flat, a decision that had shocked and angered Travis and had upset Pauline. But Crane had stuck by it, insisting that Travis sort out his own problems.

This was the first time they had got together socially since then, and to Crane’s immense relief the subject of the money had not been raised. He therefore assumed that Travis had managed to come up with it by some other means.

As far as Crane was concerned the guy was a sponge, soaking up the goodwill of those around him and giving nothing back in return. Crane had never tried to conceal his contempt for Travis. Pauline knew what he thought about her brother, but she defended him to the hilt on the grounds that he was her only blood relative.

Travis, for his part, didn’t give a monkey’s ass what anyone thought about him. He had elephant-thick skin and the morals of an alley cat.

‘I’d like to propose another toast,’ Travis said, after Pauline had refilled the glasses. ‘This time to the next President of this great country of ours.’

Travis raised his glass towards Crane and the others followed suit.

Crane smiled grudgingly, said, ‘There’s a long way to go and it might not happen.’

Travis shook his head. ‘Come off it, Gideon. You’re way ahead in the polls. Once you’ve got the Republican ticket you can set your sights on that moron in the White House. And he’ll be a walkover.’

‘I don’t think it’s going to be as easy as that.’

Travis fixed him with a drunken stare. ‘It will be so long as you keep your nose clean and don’t fuck up.’

Crane was used to Travis’s crass and insensitive remarks, but he feared that what he just said might prove prophetic. After all, he hadn’t kept his nose clean had he? He’d been having an affair with his press secretary and whoever had stolen her diary was in a position to destroy his political ambitions.

‘Don’t look so glum,’ Travis said. ‘I’m a hundred per cent confident that you won’t put a foot wrong. You’ll be taking the oath of office next year.’

‘It’s good to know that you don’t have any doubts,’ Crane said,
resisting
the urge to adopt a sarcastic tone.

Travis grinned. ‘In fact I’m so sure you’ll make it that I’m going to place a hefty bet on it. The odds are currently three to one, so I can look forward to a big pay day.’

‘You told me you’d given up gambling,’ Cindy said in that loud Texas twang that Crane found so irritating.

She was a good ten years younger than Travis, with breasts the size of melons and a brain the size of a pea. She had ash-blonde hair and deer-like eyes, and Travis had been with her for six months.

‘I
have
given up, sweetheart,’ he said, and was clearly lying through his teeth. ‘But this bet is a one-off. Call it a gesture of faith in my brother-in-law.’

Crane hated it when Travis referred to him as his brother-in-law. It made him cringe.

‘Look, I need some fresh air,’ Crane said. ‘Does anyone mind if I pop outside to smoke a cigar?’

‘I’ll join you,’ Travis said. ‘There’s something I want to talk to you about without boring the ladies.’

Crane’s heart sank, but he tried not to show his disappointment.

‘It’s too chilly for me,’ Pauline said. ‘Cindy and I will clear the table. When you come back maybe we can play a game of cards.’

Crane took a couple of Dominican cigars from his humidor and he and Travis went outside. The temperature had dropped quite a bit. The night was clear and crisp and they stood under a glittering canopy of stars to light their cigars. Then they sat at the patio table from where they had a view of the moonlit lake. The cigar smoke hung above them like a pale cloud.

‘So what is it you want to talk to me about?’ Crane asked without preamble.

Travis picked off a piece of tobacco that had got stuck to his tongue. Then he smiled, which surprised Crane, who had expected him to adopt a pathetic expression and plead for money.

‘I want to talk about your bid for the Presidency,’ Travis said. ‘And what you’re going to have to do to stop me derailing it.’

Crane stared at him, confused.

‘What the hell are you on about?’

Travis sucked wetly on his cigar and blew the smoke out slowly between pursed lips.

‘I’ve never liked you, Gideon,’ he said. ‘There’s something dark about you. And you’re the most self-centred man I know. I don’t
understand
why my sister was attracted to you in the first place, or why she still loves you. And it
is
love by the way. Your wealth has never had anything to do with it.’

Crane felt his blood boil. He said, ‘What the fuck has got into you, Travis? How dare you talk to me like this?’

Travis flicked ash from the end of his cigar onto the patio.

‘That’s the trouble with you, Gideon. You think that because you’re a wealthy politician you can be condescending and patronizing to people like me. People you regard as flawed and inferior. Well you can’t – at least not anymore.’

It must be the alcohol talking, Crane thought. He’d never known Travis to be so truculent and offensive. Clearly the wine had unleashed a torrent of bad feelings that had been festering inside him for ages.

‘Where’s this coming from, Travis?’ he said. ‘Is it because you’re still pissed off that I didn’t give you that money in September?’

Travis made a thoughtful noise in his throat. ‘I guess it’s true to say that if you had given me the money I wouldn’t have started my
investigation
. And I wouldn’t therefore be in a position now to blow your campaign out of the water.’

Crane’s nostrils flared like a bull about to charge.

‘What investigation? Have you been prying into my affairs, for God’s sake?’

Travis rolled the cigar between his fingers, clearly enjoying the moment.

‘My job is to investigate people,’ he said. ‘So I decided out of anger to investigate you. And guess what? I found stuff out that will scupper your chances of ever becoming President.’

Crane’s stomach knotted like a ball of twine. For several long beats he didn’t know what to say or how to react. He felt his chest tighten up and his heart rate quicken.

Eventually he found his voice and said, ‘This is bullshit. You’re drunk. And you’re talking crap.’

Travis bared his teeth. ‘Unfortunately for you I’m not. You see, I’m the one who took your girlfriend’s diary. I sent you the extract so that when we had this conversation you’d take me seriously.’

Crane felt a flood of panic wash over him. The bastard had not exaggerated when he said he could derail the campaign. He had taken possession of a grenade and all he had to do was pull the pin if he wanted to cause untold damage.

‘As soon as I started following you I realized what was going on,’ Travis said. ‘You were careful, but not careful enough. I’ve got photos of the pair of you entering and leaving her apartment together. I’ve got
one of you kissing her in her car. But I wanted more so I broke into her place this morning to plant some bugs. I actually didn’t expect her to be around until this afternoon. Anyway, whilst in there I came across her diary. I couldn’t believe my luck. It’s all there, every sordid detail about what you’ve been up to.’

Crane gulped in a few deep breaths and swallowed a lump the size of a walnut.

‘Have you told Pauline?’ he asked in a hoarse voice.

Travis shook his head. ‘I haven’t told anybody. And I don’t intend to so long as you and I can come to an arrangement. If we can’t then I’ll release everything to the media.’

‘You’ll break your sister’s heart,’ Crane said.

‘Which is exactly what you’re planning to do anyway. It’s only a matter of time before you dump her. That’s what you’ve been telling your bitch.’

Crane felt more helpless than he ever thought possible. He could see no way out of the situation he was in, other than to allow himself to be blackmailed by Travis.

‘So what is it you want in return for keeping quiet?’ he said.

Travis took another drag on his cigar. ‘Money, of course. I want you to transfer a hundred thousand dollars into my account by noon
tomorrow
. I need the money to pay some very important people. And then we’re quits. Oh, and I’ll give you back the diary.’

Crane felt the fury build up inside him almost to the point of eruption.

‘You son-of-a-bitch,’ he seethed.

Travis chuckled. ‘You can afford it, congressman. In fact, you should count yourself lucky that I’m not asking for more.’

Crane narrowed his gaze, said, ‘So what if I tell you to stick it? That I’d rather take my chances than pay you a single cent? Sure, I’ll suffer badly in the polls, but I could well ride out the storm. I wouldn’t be the first politician who has gone on to achieve his ambition after being caught out having an affair.’

Travis sat back and ballooned his cheeks, letting the air out slowly between his lips.

‘You’re full of bluster, Gideon,’ he said. ‘You’ll be finished and you know it. You’ll be exposed as a serial philanderer. That won’t play well with your middle-class supporters. So just shut up and pay up and maybe you’ll get to be president.’

Crane felt his mind shut down. For several minutes he couldn’t move or speak.

He knew he didn’t have a choice. Travis had him over a barrel. He was well and truly fucked.

M
Y THOUGHTS WERE
gnashing in my head as the woman drove me around the city in the Explorer. I had to force myself to remain calm as I tried to assess the situation. But it was hard to concentrate and harder still to decide what to do next.

The woman said nothing, but the fear she exuded was almost
palpable
. She was probably thinking that I was going to rape her and then kill her and maybe do something awful to her child.

I turned to look at her and in the glow from the dashboard I could see the tension along her jawline and in her neck. She was quite pretty, with eyes that were large and round and a nose that was sharp and
delicate
. She had tiny gold studs in her earlobes. Her face was made more interesting by a small, jagged scar just below her hairline. It was about an inch long and was a shade darker than her skin.

‘Where do you live?’ I asked when I glanced at the clock and realized that five minutes had passed since we left the grocery store parking lot.

‘Why do you want to know?’ she said guardedly.

‘Because I’m going to have to stay there, at least for a while.’

She gave a sharp intake of breath.

‘You can’t. No. Please.’

‘Don’t freak out,’ I said. ‘I need someplace to stay while I get my thoughts together. It’s either your place or on the street, and I’m not bedding down on the street.’

‘My husband’s home,’ she said quickly. ‘So it’s impossible.’

‘You’re not married,’ I said.

‘What?’

‘No wedding ring. Dead giveaway.’

Her lips started to tremble. ‘I live with someone. My boyfriend.’

I shook my head. ‘If that were the case then you’d have said
boyfriend
or partner in the first place and not husband. So you screwed up.’

Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. She was close to losing it and I didn’t want that. But at the same time I didn’t want to start
wandering
the streets with nowhere to go.

‘Look, I haven’t got the time or the inclination to argue,’ I said. ‘So please don’t make things difficult for me. Just do as I say.’

‘Why don’t you let us get out?’ she said. ‘You can take the car. Leave the city and go wherever you please.’

‘Too risky,’ I said. ‘The moment I drive off you’ll call 911 and I’ll have every cop in the state on my tail.’

‘I won’t. I promise.’

She was doing well to control her terror. I had to give her that.

‘Just tell me where the fuck you live,’ I snapped and it made her jump.

‘Out towards Eisenhower Park,’ she said.

‘How long will it take to get there?’

‘About twenty minutes.’

I nodded. ‘In that case put your foot down and get us there in fifteen.’

She started to cry and her shoulders heaved with every sob. I felt my stomach fall. I didn’t want a hysterical woman on my hands.

‘Stop crying,’ I said. ‘Just concentrate on the road.’

I watched her as the sobs gradually subsided. She tightened her grip on the wheel and I noticed her eyes kept flicking towards the rear-view mirror to check on her kid.

The child carried on sleeping, oblivious to her mother’s ordeal. I prayed that she wouldn’t wake up and raise the stress level still further.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked.

She wiped tears from her eyes. ‘Kate. Kate Pena.’

‘And your daughter?’

‘Anna.’

‘How old is she?’

‘Eight months.’

‘So where’s the father?’

‘I told you. He’s at home.’

I shrugged. ‘I think you’re lying, but if you’re not then it’s no problem. I’ll just have to deal with him.’

Kate was scared for sure, but I wondered how much more scared
she’d be if she knew the truth about me; that I had spent the last ten years of my life on death row having been convicted of killing a defenceless woman.

In all that time the only woman I’d seen had been my sister and the only sex I’d had had been with myself. I was pretty sure that her lightly scented perfume would have encouraged most death row inmates to pounce on her given the opportunity that I now had.

So what did that say about me? Well for one thing I hadn’t turned into a sex-starved beast. And for another I still lived by a moral code. All the pain, loneliness and deprivation of the past decade had not robbed me of every last ounce of decency. All the horrible things I’d seen had not blunted my sensitivity, at least not to any significant degree.

So in a sense Kate Pena was lucky. If anyone other than me had jacked her car then she probably wouldn’t be as safe as she was right now.