The Ambition (27 page)
Authors: Lee Strobel
“So now what? How are you gonna resolve all this? Snow and Wyatt are threatening to go public. The tape is still out there. Wyatt is a former prosecutor — can we really expect that she’ll keep the tape to herself? I don’t care what she says — at some point, that tape is going to be sent to the feds and the
Examiner,
you watch.”
Tony casually tapped his ashes on the cement floor. He took a long drag, letting the pungent smoke billow from his mouth. Then he said, “If we can’t get the tape, well, then … so be it.”
McKelvie was jolted upright.
“So be it?
You’ve taken out O’Sullivan and bombed a young woman and tried to hit a pastor — and now you don’t care about the tape?”
“Listen, McKelvie — we took out O’Sullivan because he was a threat to us. He could testify first–hand about Dom. Like you said, he was a liability, so we flattened him, nice and clean. Then we wanted the tape, so we went after Strider and this pastor — this Bullock guy. We tried to get the tape, but no luck.”
“Exactly. So now what’s the plan?”
“It’s too late. Ain’t nothing we can do. Who knows how many copies have been made by now? Could be dozens. I think you’re right — sooner or later, the tape’s gonna come out.”
McKelvie’s head was woozy, his gut nauseous. “So you’re giving up?”
“What can the tape really do to us? I mean, to Dom and me. My lawyer says it’s hearsay. It’s just talk. The tape’s illegal; it can’t be used in court.”
“That’s not the point,” insisted McKelvie. “If that tape gets aired, they’ll yank your nephew’s case away from Sepulveda. Do you want that? And I’ll be destroyed. My years on the bench, my reputation, my future — everything gone. Don’t you understand: It’s not the legal jeopardy that can hurt us; it’s the exposure.”
Another slow and satisfying drag on the cigar. “Yeah, there’ll be heat. We’ll all get subpoenaed by the grand jury. So what? We’ll take the Fifth. And, no, I don’t want Nick’s case taken from Sepulveda, but if it is, we’ll come up with some other way to grease it. We’ve got judges, we’ve got pols — we’ll find a way.”
“And what about me?” demanded McKelvie, rising to his feet. “I’m your biggest asset.”
“They gave you an ultimatum, old man. Maybe you’d better resign and get out of that Senate race.”
“Are you insane?”
“Just being practical.”
“And when the tape hits the media, like we know it eventually will?”
Tony gave a dismissive flick of his hand. “Then you’ve got a problem, Judge.”
That was the moment that confirmed what McKelvie had feared the most: in the eyes of the Bugatti brothers, he was expendable. The destruction of his career was just one more cost of doing business — and not a very big one at that.
It was just as he had expected.
McKelvie glared at Tony, then Dominic, neither showing the slightest concern for his plight. Keeping his eyes on them, McKelvie slowly dipped his right hand into his trench coat pocket and then quickly pulled out a small–caliber handgun, barely bigger than his hand.
The Bugattis recoiled — Tony springing to his feet, Dom’s hands instinctively rising to chest level. For several tense moments, McKelvie held them at bay.
“Are you crazy?” Tony shouted. “You can’t get away with this!”
With that, Chief Criminal Courts Judge Reese McKelvie tilted his head downward toward his chest. “Okay, boys,” he said, his voice loud and strong. “You got what you wanted. They’re all yours.”
He raised the gun.
The last thing the FBI agents heard in their earphones before they swooped in for the arrest was a single gunshot, followed immediately by the shouted expletives of Anthony and Dominic Bugatti.
The two phone calls came on Monday morning, the first of them while Eric and Art were sitting in Snow’s downtown office, discussing the events of the weekend.
“Reese McKelvie is dead; the Bugatti brothers have been arrested, implicated by their own words,” Snow said. He gestured toward the
Examiner
on his desk. “The story is pretty cryptic in the press. Could you fill in a few details on what happened?”
“Can’t do it,” Art replied. “I spilled too much to you already. What I was told in confidence will stay that way. I gave my word as a pastor. I’ll let others tell their own stories.”
“I figured as much. According to the papers, McKelvie went to the feds and told them everything. He gave them a boatload of evidence against the Bugattis and volunteered to wear a court–approved wire to their meeting. I don’t think he could face the public disgrace that he saw coming for himself.”
“Or maybe he felt the need for redemption.”
Snow’s mind flashed to the phone call that he and Debra Wyatt made to McKelvie from this very office. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess we’ll learn more as the case against the Bugattis winds its way through the courts.”
Bullock got up and strolled toward the exit, pausing and turning toward Snow before he got to the door. “I’ve got to get back to the church. You sure you don’t want to come with me? Amazing things are happening over there.”
Snow was pensive. “You know, Art — sometimes I think that you and I should start over. Rent a little storefront somewhere, just you and me. No lights, no stage, no high–tech video screens — just some card–table chairs and a Bible. And we could invite God to be — well … God.”
A smile broke out on Art’s face. “Just say the word.”
“I’d have a lot of personal housecleaning to do before I could ever lead a church again. The truth is that my heart has gotten dry and dusty.”
“God’s hasn’t,” Art replied. “He’s still in the forgiveness business. In fact, I’m counting on that. I’m still trying to figure out how to make something right.”
Eric started to say something, but he was drawn back to his desk by the first of the two phone calls. Art excused himself with a wave as Snow settled back into his chair.
“I got your text message,” Garry Strider said to him. “I really appreciate you checking with me about Gina, especially after what I said to you at the hospital. Actually, the news is good: Gina is conscious and the surgeon says she’s starting to show signs of recovery.”
“That’s fantastic, Garry.”
“Yeah, it really is. They don’t think there will be any permanent brain damage. The doctor told me, ‘She’s got a long and difficult road ahead, but there’s no reason to think she won’t recover.’ She’ll need some skin grafts on her legs, but overall the burns aren’t nearly as bad as they had thought. As one doc said, ‘There’s nothing that won’t heal.’ “
“Thank God! I’ve been praying for her.”
“Yeah, well, I’m just thankful for modern medicine — great surgeons, great doctors, great nurses, great hospital, great technology, great meds. And Gina has always been strong.”
“You think that’s all there is to it?”
For a moment, Strider didn’t answer. Then he said: “Yeah, of course I do.”
That’s when Snow’s cell phone vibrated on his desk. He glanced at the caller ID — it was the governor.
“Let me call you back,” Snow told Strider. “In fact, let me buy you lunch sometime soon. I’d like to talk to you some more.”
“You mean the interview I’ve been waiting for?”
“No, we can do that later. Let’s just talk.”
Strider agreed, then Eric hung up and grabbed the cell.
“Unbelievable about McKelvie,” were the first words from Edward Avanes.
Snow sat up straight, planting both feet firmly on the carpet. “Yeah, absolutely incredible.”
“I knew him for more than twenty years. He’s the last person I would have expected to be in collusion with the likes of the Bugattis. And then to kill himself — well, it’s tragic. It’s a tangled story, I guess.”
“Very sad.”
“Look, Eric, there’s no need to postpone this. The decision on the Senate appointment has been made for me. I want you to take the job. Fill out Senator Barker’s remaining term and then run for election yourself. As I’ve always said — you’re the future, Eric.”
Emotions roiled inside Snow. For a full ten seconds, he didn’t respond. Then Snow said the words he never thought he’d hear himself say.
“I don’t know, Governor. I’m just not sure. You’ll have to give me a few more days to think about it … and talk to Liz … and pray.”
A former award–winning legal editor of the
Chicago Tribune,
Lee Strobel is a
New York Times
bestselling author whose books have sold millions of copies worldwide.
Lee earned a journalism degree at the University of Missouri and was awarded a Ford Foundation fellowship to study at Yale Law School, where he received a Master of Studies in Law degree. He was a journalist for fourteen years at the
Chicago Tribune
and other newspapers, winning Illinois’ top honors for investigative reporting (which he shared with a team he led) and public service journalism from United Press International.
Lee also taught First Amendment Law at Roosevelt University. A former atheist, he served as a teaching pastor at two of America’s largest churches. Lee and his wife, Leslie, live in Colorado. Their daughter, Alison, and son, Kyle, are also authors.
A DISCLAIMER — AND SOME THANKS
I’ve been a reporter at a Chicago newspaper, I’ve prowled the back halls of the Cook County Criminal Courts Building, and I’ve been a pastor at a suburban megachurch — but what you’ve read in these pages is fiction. Indeed, the book is dedicated to a real–life chief judge who was the antithesis of my character Reese McKelvie.
Given my role as a pastor at two of the country’s largest churches, it will be natural for people to try to guess who the book’s characters most resemble. But it would be a futile effort, because they are the creation of my imagination.
The references to such real–life individuals as Chicago mob hit man Harry “The Hook” Aleman (whose federal trial I covered for the
Chicago Tribune)
and murdered Arizona investigative reporter Don Bolles (part of whose case I also covered) are accurate. But the plot of my book is merely a fanciful excursion into the intriguing world of “what if.”
This is my first major work of fiction, and I have many people to thank for their input, encouragement, and patience. Chief among them are my wife, Leslie; my editor, Dudley Delffs; the entire team at Zondervan Publishing House, especially Moe Girkins; my associate Mark Mittelberg; his son, Matthew Mittelberg, who was the first to read the manuscript and offer feedback; and Ronald Dunn, who wrote about the
Lone Ranger
episode that I referenced in these pages. Also thanks to Gary and Judy Fields and Chris Henshaw.
I also want to thank my daughter Alison, who’s a terrific novelist. She warned me at the outset that this project would be harder and more fun than writing nonfiction — and she was right!
ZONDERVAN
The Ambition
Copyright © 2011 by Lee Strobel
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Zondervan.
EPub Edition © MARCH 2011 ISBN: 978-0-310-56016-6
This title is also available as a Zondervan ebook. Visit www.zondervan.com/ebooks.
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Requests for information should be addressed to:
Zondervan,
Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Strobel, Lee, 1952-
The ambition / Lee Strobel.
p. cm.
I. Title.
PS3619.T7545 A83 4 – 2011
813’.6 - dc22 2010049396
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible,
New International Version
®
, NIV
®
.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental and is beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
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Cover design: Curt Diepenhorst
Cover photography: Getty Images®
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