Capitol Murder (21 page)

“And what did you see?” Padolino prodded.

“The two of them were behind his desk. She was just visible on the right side. He was lying
down and she was straddling him. His pants were pulled down and she wasn’t wearing much, just
some lacy understuff kind of like—” He gestured toward the television set, still in the courtroom
from the viewing of the video. “You know. Like the other girl.”

Ben glanced at the jury. Expressions ranged from small frowns to utter disgust.

“And were these two people engaged in . . . sexual relations?”

“Well,” he replied, “I suppose that depends on whether you subscribe to the Clintonian
definition of sex or the one we use back home in Arkansas.”

“Can you . . . be a little more specific?”

“In my book, when a woman goes down on a man, that’s sex.”

Several members of the jury gasped—literally gasped. Marie Glancy covered her face with her
hands.

“I . . . see,” Padolino said. He was also wearing his strained expression of disgust, as if he
were fighting to mask his revulsion. “They were engaged in fellatio?”

“I think that’s the word for it, yeah. Like in that video. ’Cept he didn’t appear to have
forced himself on her.”

“Objection,” Ben shouted. Beside him, Glancy was maintaining a cool, expressionless demeanor.
In their pretrial discussions, he had denied the incident ever happened. Even so, Ben was pretty
sure he wasn’t enjoying listening to this.

“Sustained,” Herndon said calmly. “The jury will disregard the witness’s last statement.”

“Did they see you?” Padolino asked.

“Oh yes. Or she did, anyway. She made a feeble attempt to cover herself with her hands. He
didn’t move, didn’t even get up. I think he was pretty . . . you know. Wrapped up in what they
were doing.”

“Were you surprised by what you saw?”

“Well, yes and no.”

“Can you explain?”

“I knew she’d been in to see Glancy several times, presumably to persuade him to change his
vote. I assume she went in that night for the same reason I did—to give it one last shot. Only he
demanded a special quid pro quo from her.”

“Objection,”
Ben said, even more forcefully than before. “Pure speculation.
Slanderous and totally unjustified.”

“The objection will be sustained and the jury will disregard.” The judge turned and looked
sternly into the witness box. “You know the rules, Congressman. As I recall, you were once a
trial lawyer yourself. One more trick like that and I’ll find you in contempt and have your
entire testimony stricken.”

“I’m sorry, your honor,” MacReady said with apparent contrition. “I didn’t mean to say
anything improper.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence.” Herndon motioned to Padolino. “If you have any more legitimate
questions, ask them. Get this over with.”

“Yes, sir. Just one last question. Did Senator Glancy change his position on the insurance
bill?”

“Nope. Didn’t budge an inch, and all his little toadies followed his lead. He single-handedly
killed a piece of legislation that might’ve done a lot of people a world of good. But no one
could make him change his mind. Not even Delia Collins.”

Which was worse? Ben wondered. If Glancy had changed his vote in exchange for a blow job, or
if he took the blow job but still refused to change his vote?

“No more questions,” Padolino said quietly.

The judge turned toward Ben. “Anything from the defense?”

“Oh yeah,” Ben said, rising to his feet. “We’re gonna be here a while.”

Loving stood beside Daily, his hand on the other man’s shoulder, hoping some of his inner
tranquility would travel by osmosis into his companion’s consciousness. So far it wasn’t
working.

“Please!” Daily insisted. “You’ve got to let me see her!”

The doctor shook his head. “I’m afraid that isn’t possible.” Dr. Aljuwani had a soft,
sympathetic voice, not the voice-of-God demeanor Loving normally associated with surgeons. He was
carrying a chart and wearing a white coat, all the accoutrements of the typical medical man, but
he had also shown an enormous amount of patience. “We have to think of what’s best for
Amber.”

“I am thinking about Amber!” Daily cried. “I always have been. I’ve been searching for her for
months!”

“And now she is in our care. You have done your job. Please allow us to do ours.”

Loving could feel the tension oozing from every pore of Daily’s body. “Please. You have no
idea how important it is that I see her.”

“No, I do not. But I do know that her health is extremely fragile and that it is best that she
not be disturbed. She is not conscious, at any rate.”

“I don’t care about that! I just want to see her!”

“And you will, my friend. I promise you that. Her chances for a full recovery are excellent.
But she is weak. She has lost much blood. In addition to the gunshot wound, her bloodstream has
been infected with excess amounts of a chemical that is, for all practical purposes, the same as
morphine. She will likely suffer withdrawal symptoms, as well as severe respiratory
problems.”

“You said she would recover.”

“I said that her chances are excellent. But we must take things slowly. Allow her body to
recover its strength. For now, for her own safety, she must remain in the ICU. But I promise I
will call you as soon as the danger has passed and it is safe for her to receive visitors.”

Loving tried to be comforting. “He’s right, you know.”

Daily’s teeth were clenched. “You have my cell number?”

“Indeed I do,” the doctor assured him. “And I will call it just as soon as the time is
right.”

“You won’t wait till it’s convenient?”

“Indeed I will not. As soon as her vital signs are stable, I will call you.”

“And that will be when?”

Dr. Aljuwani hesitated. “Perhaps twenty-four hours, if all goes well. I can’t be certain.”

“All right.” His head hung low. “Thank you, Doctor. I’m sorry if I seemed—”

“Not at all. She is your own flesh and blood. I would feel the same if it were my daughter, I
am sure.” Aljuwani excused himself, leaving Loving and Daily alone.

“Hell,” Daily muttered. “What am I going to do with myself between now and then? I’ll make
myself crazy.”

“You’re gonna get some sleep,” Loving said firmly. “Then we continue the investigation.”

“What? I’ve already found Amber.”

“But don’t you wanna know what happened to her?”

“Surely that creep from the club—”

“Didn’t you hear what the police officer said?” Loving wasn’t really surprised. The police had
grilled them and Lucille for almost three hours, but the entire time Loving sensed that Daily’s
head was somewhere else. In that tiny room in ICU. “That creep Randy has already called in his
lawyer. To represent him and his boys and girls. None of them is talking. Nor is anyone ever
likely to. If we want to know what happened to your girl, we’re going to have to find out for
ourselves.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

Loving hesitated a moment, watching the sun set through the wide panoramic hospital lobby
window. It was almost sunset, the golden hour, his favorite time of day. Pity it had to be wasted
on these tragic circumstances. “By findin’ Beatrice. That’s what your daughter wanted us to
do.”

“She was out of her head.”

“Maybe. But did you see the way her eyes lit when I asked her? She may’ve been crazy with
drugs, but I still think she was tryin’ to help us. She’s worried about her friend.” Besides,
Loving thought, finding Beatrice will be critical to Ben’s case—in the event Amber never
recovers.

“But what she said—it was just gibberish.”

Loving shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Then what did it mean?”

“Well . . . I dunno. But if every answer was easy, the world wouldn’t need private
investigators.”

“You’ve got nothing to go on! Two words.”

“I’ve had less. Come on. Let’s go see a friend of mine. If anyone can tell us what your
daughter meant, he’s the one.”

“Congressman, have you ever thought about running for president?”

MacReady’s head rose. Finally Ben had managed to ask a question he hadn’t anticipated. “I’m
happy where I am. But thanks for the recommendation, son.”

“Come now. I’ve heard your name floated as a possible presidential candidate, and I don’t even
read the morning papers. There aren’t many Republican senators with more experience or
qualifications than you.”

MacReady chuckled. “If we picked our presidents based upon experience and qualifications, the
world would be a very different place.”

“I’ve also heard Senator Glancy mentioned as a possible presidential candidate. Or perhaps a
vice presidential running mate. Have you?”

“Objection,” Padolino said wearily. “What possible relevance can this have to the case?”

“Goes to bias,” Ben said, explaining what both of them already knew.

The judge nodded. “The witness will answer the question.”

“I believe I have heard my colleague Senator Glancy’s name bandied about,” MacReady replied.
“At least before this unpleasantness occurred.”

“And what do you think about the possibility of your colleague Senator Glancy on a
presidential ticket?”

He tilted his head to one side. “Well, I prefer my presidents a little more to the right, if
you know what I mean.”

“So you wouldn’t want to see the senator on a presidential ticket. And a pretty good way to
prevent that would be to present false testimony that gets him convicted of murder, wouldn’t
it?”

MacReady’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I’m a liar, son? ’Cause I don’t take too kindly to
that.”

Ben ignored him. This was his time to ask the questions. “Tell me, sir—after you witnessed
this alleged incident in Senator Glancy’s office, did you tell anyone?”

“Tell anyone what?”

“What you had seen. Glancy and Delia Collins . . . together.”

“No. Why would I?”

“Well, for starters, it might’ve helped eliminate Senator Glancy’s opposition to your
bill.”

MacReady appeared indignant. “I don’t do business that way.”

“Did you file a complaint with the Senate Ethics Committee?”

“I saw no cause for that.”

“No cause? You all but said that you thought Senator Glancy had extracted sex under the
promise of changing his vote. If that’s not an ethics violation, what is?”

MacReady shrugged uncomfortably. “I had no proof. I was just . . .”

“Talking through your hat?”

“Suspicious. That’s all. Suspicious.”

“So even though you
suspected
a clear-cut ethics violation, and even though it
would’ve been to your political advantage to reveal your suspicions, you kept quiet about this
incriminating incident for seven years. Let me tell you, Congressman—that’s what
I
find
suspicious.”

“Objection!” Padolino bellowed.

“Sustained.” Herndon gave Ben a harsh look. “Watch yourself, counsel.”

Ben plowed ahead. “Sir, where was the desk in Senator Glancy’s office?”

“Same place it is today. In the rear center of the room, opposite the door, maybe ten feet
back.”

“And did you stay in the doorway or did you step inside?”

“Well, I obviously didn’t step inside. You know what they say. Three’s a crowd.”

“And the couple you observed were behind the desk.”

“Yes. But I could see her clearly enough. Just off to the side and above the desk.”

“I don’t doubt it. But since you said the other person involved was lying down on the floor
and she was facing him—his head would’ve been behind the desk. How on earth could you see
him?”

For the first time, MacReady hesitated momentarily before answering, which Ben took as a
personal triumph. “Well, his feet and hands were sticking out the side.”

“Could you see his face?”

“There was no doubt about who—”

“Please answer my question. Could you see his face?”

He sighed. “No, not as such. But it stands to reason—”

“That there was another person there. But you can’t say for sure who it was.”

MacReady rolled his eyes. “You’re right. I suppose it could’ve been anyone in Senator Glancy’s
office, behind Senator Glancy’s desk, having sex with a woman who wanted Senator Glancy’s
vote.”

“Move to strike,” Ben said, lips pursed.

“That will be sustained,” Judge Herndon said, giving MacReady the evil eye. “Are you done with
this witness, Counsel?”

“Very done, your honor.” Oh so done. If he could’ve pulled MacReady off the stage with a hook,
he’d have done it.

“Do you have any idea how busy I am?” Jones said, waving his arms in the air. “Any idea at
all?”

“What’s his damage?” Daily whispered into Loving’s ear.

“Shh,” Loving muttered back. Loving and Daily had come to Ben’s borrowed office space near the
courthouse. “I can handle it.” He laid his hand on Jones’s shoulder. “Jones, buddy, I know you’re
buried in paperwork. I know you’ve been fieldin’ three times the usual motion practice. Just
yesterday I heard Ben sayin’ how invaluable you were. How he’d be nothin’ without you.”

“He did?”

Loving smiled, hoping Ben hadn’t mentioned that Loving hadn’t been in the office for days. “He
did. Problem is—I feel the same way. I could spend days stompin’ around the streets trying to
track down this lead. Or you could probably figure it out in an hour. So you see why I came to
you. I mean, I’m beggin’ you, Jonesey. I’m on bended knee here.”

“Oh, all right already,” Jones said, his face wrinkling. “What’s the sitch?”

Loving told him.

“Circle Thirteen? What the heck does that mean?”

“That’s what we were hopin’ you could tell us.”

“And that’s all you’ve got? Two words? Two very common words?” Jones turned to face the
computer. “Jeez—this could take forever.”

“I know,” Loving said. “But even if it takes days, I’d appreciate it if you could—”

“Got it,” Jones announced.

“Huh? What?”

“I Googled it. Broadband is a wonderful thing. Amazing the stuff you can come up with . .
.”