Ballots and Blood (6 page)

“Perry thought he could do whatever he wanted to as long as it stayed secret,” said Andy. “That's the nature of sin, brothers. We don't realize God sees everything.”

“Precisely,” said Ross. “Your conversation with Birch wouldn't remain secret either.”

“So what are you saying. . . . You don't want me to get in bed with Mike Birch?” asked Andy, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“He's a black widow.” He leaned into Andy. “
Stay away.
”

“I don't want to get in bed with Birch. I just want him to appoint a conservative Republican to the U.S. Senate,” said Andy. “Why can't I just tell him that?”

“He apparently already got that message from a higher source.”

“Who?”

“Long. He called Birch the other day. Now Birch's people are shopping a story to the national media that Long tried to get him to appoint himself.”

“No!” exclaimed Andy. “Did Long really do that? What is he . . . stupid?”

“A hundred percent. So when I tell you to stay away from the guy, I'm looking out for you.”

The car pulled up to Andy's Gulfstream, its jet engines running with a loud hissing noise, the stairs lowered, a red carpet on the tarmac. Andy would use the short flight to Atlanta to plot how to get Birch to do the right thing. There might be another Supreme Court appointment and Andy wanted a Republican U.S. Senate. If they got it, there was no limit to the legislation they could pass and the judges they could confirm. He smiled at the thought.

5

J
ay Noble held on for dear life in the jump seat of a staff van as the president's motorcade hurtled down the 110 freeway in LA at 85 miles an hour. He never liked how fast they drove, fearing it was only a matter of time before the motorcade was involved in an accident. The president was about to appear at a fund-raiser at the Beverly Hilton for his third-way independent political organization after a “message event” with small business leaders in Ventura. Jay's cell phone went off. He glanced down and saw the number belonged to Marvin Myers, the big foot syndicated columnist who struck fear in the hearts of his sources and terror in the hearts of his targets. Jay did his best to remain in the former camp.

“It's M and M time!” exclaimed Jay, using his handle for Myers.

“Hello, Jay,” said Myers in his syrupy baritone. “Are you with the president in Caly?”

“I am indeed. We're out here vacuuming up the dough.”

“How much will you raise today?”

“$3.8 million. But don't attribute that to me.”

Myers let out a whistle. “Impressive.”

“It is; $3.8 down and 250 million more to go.”

“You're raising a quarter of a billion dollars just for the Senate races?”

“Yep,” said Jay. “It's a different world, pal. This is not your daddy's political party. Between the 527s, c4s, PACs, the party committees, and the labor unions, we're going to have the first three-billion-dollar midterm election in history.”

“Incredible,” said Myers. “Actually, I'm calling about one of those Senate races.”

“Which one?”

“Florida.”

“We're staying away from that one . . . for now.”

“That's not what I'm hearing,” said Myers, moving in for the kill. “My information is Long called Mike Birch last week and suggested he appoint himself to the Senate seat.”

Jay felt the blood rush from his skull.
Myers had the story!
His mind raced:
Who was leaking
? “Not true,” he lied.

“Long didn't call Birch?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Jaaaay, stop playing games.”

“I'm not,” Jay stammered. “What I'm saying—and this is on very deep background . . .”

“Feed the beast, Jay.”

“I
am
feeding the beast,” Jay protested. “Look, I was with the president in the residence when he called Birch,” he said, embellishing the lie. “It was two days after the cops found Miller's body. All Long did was offer his condolences and say he wished appointing a new senator had not fallen to Birch under such difficult circumstances. That's it.”

“He never said anything about Birch appointing himself?”

“He said something about how it was too bad Birch couldn't appoint himself because he was the most qualified guy for the job. It was a throwaway line.”

“Birch took it differently. Suggesting a governor appoint himself to the U.S. Senate doesn't sound like a throwaway line to me.”

“Come on, Marvin, the guy's running for president! He's using you to make us look bad.” Jay shot forward in his seat, pounding the dashboard with the palm of his hand. “Do you think we'd be dumb enough to call Birch of all people and suggest he do something so idiotic? It's insane! Give me more credit than that.”

“Calm down. But they did talk? You can confirm that?”

“Yes, but the characterization of the conversation you relate bears no resemblance to what the president said.”

“Duly noted. If I do something, I'll say a White House official said it was a courtesy call.”

“That's all it was. Birch is just trying to be more important than he is.”

“So . . . who do you think he'll appoint?”

“Honestly, Marvin, I don't know. We're hearing all kinds of rumors. If he goes with a D, he'll blow himself up. I think Miller was the only Democrat who could hold the seat. Any other D goes in with no mandate, no money, and they have to face the voters in thirteen months. Birch knows that, so my hunch is it'll be an R.”

“Who do you think is the strongest Republican?”

“A member of Congress along the I-4 corridor. It won't be Don Jefferson—Birch hates his guts. Birch loathes the legislature, so it won't be a state legislator. His LG is weak, so he can't go there. In the end, it's all about Birch.”

“Well, it's working so far,” said Myers, chuckling. “One more thing. The FBI is broadening the Perry Miller investigation. Word is they have the client list of Adult Alternatives and more shoes are going to drop.”

“Spike-heeled shoes. Lots of collateral damage.”

“Any names?”

“Nothing beyond rumors. How 'bout you?”

“Nothing yet, but I'm digging. And I'm not alone. The
National Enquirer
, TMZ, and Merryprankster are all over it.”

“That doesn't end well.”

“No. If you hear anything, I'd appreciate a heads-up.”

“Heads-up!? Are you kidding?” bellowed Jay good-naturedly. “Marvin, I feed you so many stories I should share your byline!” Laughing, he hung up. He hoped the schmaltz and lies limited the damage from the president's ill-advised call to Birch. He wondered how Long could have done something so dumb. For the moment he had bigger worries. He hoped no one in the administration turned up on the client list. Jay shuddered at the thought.

PATRICK MAHONEY STEPPED INTO THE guardhouse on the Pennsylvania Avenue side of the White House, slipping off his FBI identification and sliding it under the Plexiglas window to the officer. He lifted his coat, revealing his FBI-issued .38 revolver. The officer looked over the ID and nodded.

“He's good,” he said to the other officer working the metal detector.

Mahoney walked through the metal detector and strolled up the driveway toward the West Wing lobby. A guard opened the door. White House deputy counsel Maureen McConnell was waiting for him.

“Agent Mahoney, welcome,” said McConnell. A former JAG officer, McConnell had short, wavy brown hair, intense eyes staring out from behind rimless glasses, a pug nose, and a sharp jaw. She exuded the efficiency and discipline of a reform-school headmaster. “Mr. Battaglia sends his regards. He's sorry he couldn't join us.”

Sure he is,
thought Mahoney.

McConnell led Mahoney across the alley to the Eisenhower Executive Office Building. As she walked down the shiny green-and-white linoleum floor, her heels clicked on the tiles. They rounded a corner, and she opened the door to an unmarked conference room.

Truman Greenglass stepped forward and shook Mahoney's hand, their eyes locking. With a compact build and a shock of dark hair, Greenglass's five-o'clock shadow and pale skin were the most visible signs of the stress and exhaustion of his job. Seated at the table in a dark gray pinstripe suit and Charvet custom shirt and silk tie was Walter Shapiro, one of the top criminal lawyers in the nation. No stranger to the FBI, he most recently represented G. G. Hoterman in the Dele-gate scandal, helping the uber-lobbyist avoid indictment.

Smart,
thought Mahoney to himself when he saw Shapiro.

“Just to make sure we're all clear on who's who, Walt is representing Truman in his personal capacity,” said McConnell. “I represent the White House.”

“That's what I assumed, but thanks for the clarification.” He smiled weakly. “Sorry to be the cause of so much lawyering.”

“No apology necessary,” said Shapiro with a chuckle. “The FBI helped me put three kids through college. So on behalf of my wife and children, thank you.”

“You're welcome,” replied Mahoney, laughing. “Shall we get started?”

“The floor is yours,” said McConnell, leveling her gaze.

“I'm here to ask questions related to the FBI's investigation of Perry Miller's death. While there is some evidence pointing to his being killed by an employee of Adult Alternatives, we are pursuing every possible lead.” He paused. “That includes the senator's professional responsibilities. Mr. Greenglass is not a subject or a target at this time. He is considered a witness. We hope he can help us understand Senator Miller's work as chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee.”

“At the president's direction, every member of the EOP will cooperate fully,” replied McConnell, using the acronym for Executive Office of the President.

Mahoney pulled out a legal pad from his satchel and placed it on the table. It already held series of written notations. “First, Mr. Greenglass, on the Iran sanctions legislation. We understand you requested and Senator Miller agreed to a trigger mechanism that authorized military action in the event the sanctions failed to disarm Iran's nuclear weapons program. Is that correct?”

“Not entirely.”

“Okay, can you educate me on the Iran sanctions bill?”

“Well, the bill is still in the committee, so the process is underway,” said Greenglass officiously. “The chairman's mark included language stating the NSC would report to the president and the DNI would report to Congress within twelve months on the efficacy of the sanctions,” said Greenglass. “So it was NSC
and
the DNI.”

“DNI being Director of National Intelligence. What about the trigger mechanism?”

“I would not use that phrase.”

“What phrase would you use?”

“If NSC and the DNI concluded the sanctions hadn't ended Iran's nuclear weapons program, the president was authorized to take additional measures to render it inoperable.”

“Including military action?”

“It did not specify. But all options are on the table.”

“Who drafted the legislative language?”

“We drafted it and provided it to the committee.”

“Who actually wrote it?”

“Excuse me,” growled Shapiro, his lips pressed into a thin line, fingers fidgeting, the jowly flesh under his neck vibrating with anger. “Is this a seminar on how a bill becomes a law, or are we trying to solve a murder here?”

Mahoney shot Shapiro a withering look. “Miller was killed the week before he was to bring the Iran sanctions bill to the floor. We're looking into whether there's a connection.”

“Fair enough. But what does that have to do with my client?”

“I think that will become apparent in fairly short order if I can ask questions without being interrupted,” said Mahoney, his eyes smoldering.

“I'm not here for the fun of it, Agent Mahoney,” fired back Shapiro. “I'm here to represent my client.”

“It's okay, Walter,” said Greenglass. “I've got no problem answering.”

“Who else knew about the existence of this language besides you and Senator Miller?”

“The president, Candace Sanders, Bill Jacobs at CIA, and the ranking Republican on Foreign Relations. That's it.”

“Were you hoping no one found out about it until you had the votes to pass it?”

Greenglass leaned back in his chair and sighed. “No. But we didn't want it out there until we had everyone in the administration on board.”

“And did you?”

“For the most part, some more than others,” said Greenglass with a wry smile.

Mahoney reached into his satchel and pulled a sheet of Xerox paper containing a newspaper clipping. “Have you seen this article before?”

Greenglass scanned the page. “Yes.”

“It's a report in a German newspaper claiming you told the German ambassador it was too late for sanctions to work and the U.S. was preparing to take military action,” said Mahoney. “It says Senator Miller agreed and that is why he planned to include language authorizing military action in the sanctions bill.”

“Obviously we were not happy about this article.”

“At the time it appeared, Lisa Robinson was asked about it during a White House press briefing. She denied it. But you're telling me today it was accurate?”

“Not every detail, but yes, it was essentially accurate.”

“This report ran two weeks before Senator Miller was killed.”

“Are you suggesting someone murdered Miller because he supported military action against Iran?” asked McConnell, incredulous.

“I'm just asking questions,” said Mahoney, his eyes unblinking.

“To what end?” volleyed back McConnell. “You're weaving a theory that someone killed Miller to stop the Iran sanctions bill. But the bill is going to pass anyway, so that theory is not supported by the facts. Moreover, the president needs no legislative authority to take military action against Iran. It is inherent in his powers as commander in chief.”