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Authors: Keith M Donaldson

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BOOK: Death of an Intern
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I
spent the morning wading through an inch-thick stack of information that Mary had dug up on Rick and Frankie Grayson. He's a widower with one daughter.

Vice President Frederick “Rick” Grayson was the introverted twin. Frances “Frankie” Grayson was the outgoing, sometimes volatile one. They were inseparable through college, until Rick went off to law school. Apparently Frankie had planned to as well, but decided on a master's in political science instead.

Following graduation, he joined a small, but politically influential law firm in his home state. Rick and Frankie again were inseparable until he met and fell in love with Linda Finley. They married within the year. Frankie taught at the local community college.

Both Graysons were good athletes. I guessed Linda was not athletic because the twins continued to team up, winning their country club's mixed doubles tennis championship three years in a row. I remembered the photo in the Vice President's conference room.

They also played together on a softball team and had held two of the highest five averages in their bowling league. Pictures of Rick and the very pretty Linda were at social functions and fundraisers, and later on, with baby Tracy.

His great looks, all-American charm, intelligence, and appeal made him the party's choice to run for the U.S. Congress when their fourteen-term Congressman retired. Rick ran in the primaries. According to one article, Frankie worked as an assistant to the campaign manager, but was in charge of volunteers, circulating flyers and posters, and getting the mailings out.

Rick won the primary against two other candidates garnering over fifty-six percent of the total vote. A local news story reported Frankie had resigned her teaching job to work full-time on her brother's campaign in the general election.

The beautiful Linda was pictured charming the volunteers and looking great in family pictures and publicity shots. She seemed the socially perfect campaigner's wife. In November, Rick won hands down. Frankie was appointed her brother's chief of staff.

Rick, Linda, Tracy, and Frankie moved to Washington together.

He built on his popularity by representing his District well. They had a second daughter. Four years and two terms later, he was asked to run for the Senate, instead of going for a third term in the House. He won that, beating the incumbent by more than ten points. Frankie, however, did not remain his chief of staff. An article referred to the new chief of staff as a Senate insider. Frankie was referred to as a senior advisor.

Rick and Linda had a third daughter during his second year in the Senate. A columnist reported the Graysons had hoped for a son, but were elated their daughter was a healthy baby. Three daughters in five years. An unnamed friend was quoted as saying he didn't think Rick and Linda would try again.

Rick Grayson was easily elected to a second six-year term in the Senate. His name came up as a possible Presidential hopeful. However, in that following summer, Linda and his two younger daughters were killed by a drunk driving a large SUV. He ran a red light and broadsided Linda's minivan. Her seat belt couldn't save her. The children, both in child restraint seats in the back, were literally torn apart.

I felt an ache in my gut. I remembered the incident, but not the details.

I went back to reading. Since it was a year before the Presidential convention, Rick Grayson dropped out of the race and took his daughter Tracy, then 12, back to his parents' home. The local citizenry was asked to give him space. He was often sighted running on the high school track, biking around town, or taking walks in the neighborhood with Tracy.

Frankie and Chief of Staff William Adam Smith maintained the Washington office, waiting for a decision. In late August, Rick announced he would resume his senatorial duties. He and Tracy would return to Virginia a week before her school started, accompanied by his parents.

According to social columns in the
Star
, the senator turned down all social invitations, only attending those deemed important. Adam Smith often represented him. Frankie was his companion when he did go out.

Unfortunately nothing juicy turned up on Rick's twin sister. She had never married. Maybe Ralph could fill in the blanks. I wanted to help Max, but I needed information too. It was time to meet Ralph.

I
arrived at the Potowmack Landing restaurant fifteen minutes early. A pretty setting, it sat off the George Washington Memorial Parkway on a spit of land immediately downriver from Ronald Reagan National Airport. Windsurfers in wet suits with their multicolored sails played on the small bay's waters with the airport runways and the Washington Monument in the background.

Ralph was on time. We went through the short line in the café, and then sat at a picnic table near the boat ramp. I started with questions about the women who worked with Janet.

“When we formed the office, there were eight women who took on various tasks in that one section under Frankie Grayson's supervision. They were hired to fill a special need, some covering various legislative areas, and they reported to Ms. Grayson administratively. Janet and three others were junior staffers. Three were more senior, having specific roles. One was their legislative liaison on Capitol Hill.”

“What are Ms. Grayson's qualifications, other than being the Vice President's twin?” I asked, even knowing the answer.

“She was pre-law, has a master's in political science, and taught at the college level. When Rick ran for Congress, she got involved. A harder worker you'll never see. The stories of her work ethic are legion.”

A large pickup truck with a noisy diesel engine pulled up to the boat ramp and backed into a slot. The noise shut down our conversation for a moment, and we took advantage to get in some bites of food. It reminded me of the helicopter when Max and I saw Sarah and Kat. When the truck's engine was turned off, we continued.

“I hope there aren't any more of them coming in. I read Mr. Grayson doesn't go out or date.”

“He almost quit the Senate and is still not over that tragedy. He's a nice guy, Laura. Honest, ethical, thought of highly by the President and the party. A smart fellow. He's the heir apparent.”

I reached in my bag and took out the photos I had from Janet's townhouse. “These are pictures—”

“Where did you get these?” His voice had a hard edge.

“Janet's roommate. They're nothing earth-shattering. Mostly group shots at functions.” I put them down and fanned them out on the table. “There's several of the Vice President, each with a young woman from the office. Three with Janet. One with Sarah. One I don't know.”

“That's Beth Carr; she's over at Labor now.” Shorthand for Labor Department. “She was one of the original eight. Somebody tagged them the
Octofems
, but after Beth left that sort of faded away. She was the Hill liaison; Kat Turner took over that role along with her Ag work. She knows the Hill. The seven then became affectionately known as the
Interns
.”

“Is Ms. Grayson his only companion at dinners, parties, and functions?”

“Frankie went with him for a while. Not her cup of tea. There is nothing diplomatic about Frankie Grayson.”

“Quite the athlete, I read. Very blunt, I experienced. Does the Vice President go to social affairs alone?” I was fishing. “I don't remember seeing him mentioned in the society pages as escorting a possible new Mrs. Grayson.”

“Not now. He has said never. However, that will change over time. Especially when he and the President win a second term and the party starts grooming him for the Oval Office.”

“How can a Vice President find true romance amidst all the White House trappings and hoopla? I would imagine the only women he sees are the ones who work for him.” I was priming the pump. I took a bite of my sandwich to see if Ralph would fill in behind what I said about the women. He did.

“They're all too young for him. However, it's interesting that you mention that. It was something Frankie came up with. A few of the girls rotate accompanying him as a companion to some functions.”

“Which is what some of these pictures represent?”

“I guess there's no harm. It's a special perk for the young women. I think just about all of them have been with him one time or another. It's also educational and instructive. They get a chance to see government close up, not just from their cubicle.”

I checked my watch. “Enough office gossip.” I hoped that downplayed the importance of what we had been discussing. “The reason I called was to discuss an entirely different subject.”

He seemed relaxed and receptive. “There was a man I saw at the reception by the name of George Manchester, from Atlanta, I believe.”

Ralph's expression went serious. “You said you'd tell me who you were doing this for.” He picked up his cup and took a drink.

“MPD Homicide Captain Max Walsh. You probably met him at our wedding. Jerry's Best Man.” I hoped that would take the sting out of it.

“Yeah, I did. Friendly guy, good sense of humor.”

“That's him. He is working on a totally unrelated case to the killings. When he and I were talking about them recently, he asked if you were still at the White House.”

“What kind of a case?” A nervous tone returned.

I studied him. “According to Max, George Manchester's name came up in a convoluted way during a joint D.C./Atlanta drug investigation.”

“Manchester.” He almost threw the name away.

“Max knows about Manchester's lobbying office at the Watergate. His sources say he is close to the Vice President.” I hoped I had pushed a few buttons.

He looked at me curiously. “And the favor?”

“What types of things does he do? Is it all lobbying?”

“What sorts of things did Captain Walsh say Manchester was into?”

Typical lawyer, I thought. “A large sporting goods chain. A porno film operation out of one of his warehouses. That's where the drug connection in Washington took them. Max was told one of Manchester's sons actually runs the film company.”

“His younger boy, Anthony. He started a legit photography studio, and then expanded into R-rated stuff that expanded again into the X-rated films.”

“Anything else?”

“Manchester is not involved in Anthony's businesses. He has also stepped down as chair of the sporting goods store. Manchester Enterprises, Inc., his lobbying organization, is his baby now. That involves the Graysons.”

That add-on had a less firm sound to it. “So Papa Manchester has no connection to the film operation, or its people, except through his son?”

Ralph went quiet, like listening to testimony, munching on his sandwich. “George Manchester has known the Graysons almost as long as I have. He did supportive things for the party in Georgia. He is not interested in running for office because he likes being behind the scenes. He helped with fundraising for Rick's senatorial reelection campaign. George and Frankie got along well. Both are no-nonsense people.

“When the heat built up on the Presidential nomination, it became clear Bob Griffin was the preeminent candidate. The focus shifted to possible Vice Presidential candidates. Rick was everybody's choice. Manchester sort of revitalized Rick after the accident. With his contacts in the Southeast, he booked Rick for after-dinner speeches. They raised one heck of a lot of money. Rick began coming out of the doldrums. He had more bounce to his step.”

“So do Frankie and Manchester see each other?” I asked tentatively, trying to put the relationships together.

Ralph coughed and cleared his throat.

“What? What am I missing?” I asked anxiously.

“With your entire reporter's acumen, I'm surprised you—”

“What?” I said a little too strongly. I hated it when people did this to me.

“It's known, but never talked about, I guess.”

I glared, and he caught the fire in my eyes.

“I'm sorry. She's gay, a lesbian.”

Now it was my turn to choke. “Okay, that answers some questions,” I lied, hoping to regain my composure. “I read up on her, didn't see anything adverse.”

“Once, back in his first senatorial term. It's known. She trusted the wrong person. It got taken care of and I don't know how…” He paused to take a bite.

He looked as though he was digging up old files in his head.

“I had been with Rick over a year and was intimately involved on the legal side. We were furiously digging up stuff on this individual. It wasn't easy, we were getting nowhere with a counterattack. We had quarantined Frankie. Adam Smith took the lead on all outside contacts.

“Then Adam got a call to meet with someone who might be willing to help us. We didn't know if this was subterfuge or the real thing, but we were desperate and said okay. Adam's savvy. He wouldn't give anything up. When he came back, all he said was that he'd accepted outside help on our behalf with total deniability. Within a couple of days, the problem went away. The complainant withdrew.”

“Manchester?”

“We think so. Adam never said. Again, deniability. Manchester has enjoyed a good relationship with both Frankie and Adam ever since.”

“And nothing happened to Ms. Grayson?”

He shook his head and checked his watch. “We're almost out of time.”

“Would the keyword here be
favors?

“One might think that. But I don't know, and I don't think about it.”

“So Mr. Manchester has the ability to make things happen…Or not happen?”

Ralph nodded while folding up the food wrappings. I followed suit and we walked to a trashcan. I held onto the uneaten half of the sandwich and my drink.

“Laura, I know no finer man than Rick Grayson. I am fond of and respect Frankie. There is nothing sinister going on. Take my advice. Going after the Graysons is no way to further your career.”

“I'm not going after anybody. I believe Janet was the victim of a serial killer. I think problems are being created more by Ms. Grayson than by me. She stonewalled me, complained to my paper, asked you to talk to my husband.”

Ralph scowled. “Only to protect the Vice President from bad press.”

So Frankie Grayson was behind it. Wait till I tell Jerry. I suppressed a smirk. “Does that include sending Secret Service agents to Janet's townhouse to remove her personal things?”

“The Secret Service? When?”

“Yesterday. I drove Janet's roommate to their townhouse. There was a government car. I guessed someone might be inside and called the police. Arlington County cops came. Two men were sneaking out the back door. They were Secret Service.”

Ralph was literally shocked into silence.

“After verification by the police, the agents were advised to procure a warrant and were sent packing.” I didn't know how much, if any of this, would get back to Grayson, so I kept Max out of it. “I'm a newspaper woman, Ralph. I go where the story takes me. Somebody in your office knows who fathered Janet's baby. Isn't Janet's family owed at least that?”

He began to pick up. “I've got to get back.”

“I appreciate your time.” I touched his arm. “I am not on some whacko crusade. You're a lawyer; you look at all sides.”

“I'm afraid that kind of lawyering went out with vinyl records for me.” A soft look came into his eyes. “Don't sacrifice your family in search of a big story. Jerry's a special guy. He's real excited at becoming a daddy.” He headed for the parking lot.

I returned to the picnic table and ate my sandwich. In between bites, I recapped my meeting with Ralph on tape. I conjectured about Janet, Sarah, and Beth. Could Janet have been involved with a married man? A person in a powerful place? An untouchable?

Kat had been with Janet at the reception. Kat sat with a very upset Sarah at the restaurant. Janet was going to Kat's the night she was killed. Had Janet's cell phone been found? I turned off my recorder and called Max.

“And how was lunch?” the Homicide captain asked.

“I have a question first. Was Janet's cell phone found?”

“I don't have that file on my desk. How was lunch?”

“I have some things for you. Nothing earth-shaking. Max, I need to know if anyone called Janet after she had called Marsha on Saturday.”

“What about Manchester?”

The intensity of his voice stopped me. I was being self-absorbed again.

“He did favors for the Vice President and Frankie. There was a problem. Oh, you don't know, do you?”

“Where are we now? I don't know what?”

“Sorry. Ms. Grayson is a lesbian.”

“Seems you talked about many other things at this lunch?”

I explained what Ralph had told me, concluding, “Manchester may not run the porno ring, but he certainly has close ties to it. Maybe he plays around at his swanky place. Maybe he likes having company. It's perfect. Maybe he threatened Janet.”

“The last I heard about, she was pressured. Now threatened?”

“I don't know. Do you have any better ideas?” I asked defensively.

“No. But that's because I'm not pursuing that runaway dog.”

“Let's find Janet's cell phone. Maybe someone called her Saturday night. Maybe left a message.”

“You realize, don't you, we are not investigating the White House or the Vice President's office?”

BOOK: Death of an Intern
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