Blindside

TWENTY

When I got back to my hotel Sylvia Fordham was sitting in the lobby in her best Audrey Hepburn pose. The lovely naif lost in a world of sensationalism and sin. The dress was a simple blue number that modestly revealed the slender but comely body. She sat on a couch reading the National Review. I curbed my desire to take a match and set it on fire.

She pretended not to notice me when I sat down next to her.

‘You look very nice today, Sylvia. How about going upstairs with me?’

Her gaze rose from the magazine and settled on me. The smile was playful. ‘I knew you’d come around someday. Even as much as you hate me.’

‘I don’t hate you, Sylvia. I just think you’re a reprehensible threat to our republic.’

‘Well, if that’s all-’ The smile remained.

‘So what happened to last night’s big announcement?’

‘You feel like a drink?’

‘It’s early.’

‘Then you get Kool-Aid or something. I’m having a drink.’

And so she did. We were tucked away in a booth in the hotel bar. It was dark enough to get lost in. You needed a coal miner’s lighted hat to get around. The waitress appeared out of the gloom as if she’d stepped from another dimension. I had coffee and Sylvia had a double Scotch straight up. If I didn’t know her, it would be easy to have one of those eight-hour crushes on her. She really was beautiful and quietly sexual.

‘I can’t believe this. Here I’ve got the best piece of evidence I’ve ever had against an opponent and I can’t use it. This is really bullshit, Dev.’

‘I can say the same, Sylvia. Remember that. But you haven’t told me about last night.’

The waitress must have been wearing track shoes. She reappeared out of the vortex in what seemed like seconds. After she was gone again, Sylvia said, ‘I’d usually go ahead on my own with something like this — I just assumed Rusty would be happy with taking Ward down this way. But when I went out to his place and told him about what I’d set up with the TV station he blew up at me. He finally told me the truth about the blackmail, how he was being shaken down the same way Ward was. He said absolutely no way did he want me to run the clip.’ A sigh followed that Bette Davis would have considered too dramatic. ‘When I write my memoirs I’m going to mention this incident as the most perfect takedown I ever had — and couldn’t use.’ Then: ‘Now what I want to know, since we’re sort of in this together, is who’s blackmailing them?’

‘I’m not sure. I’m beginning to suspect who but I don’t want to say anything until I know more.’

‘And you’re still covering up the fact that Nolan’s missing?’

‘You’ve got spies everywhere.’

‘Everywhere.’

‘Was Jim Waters one of yours?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

‘That means he wasn’t.’

‘If you say so.’

‘This is like third grade.’

‘I had a great time in third grade.’

She waved for another drink. ‘The debate tonight should be interesting. They’re both up there going through the motions when the only thing either of them wants to talk about is how the other guy went to this whorehouse all the time.’

I’d never known her to be giddy but she was close to it now. She was a killer but at least she had a sense of irony. I’ll bet neither Hannibal nor Genghis Khan had a sense of irony.

After she sipped her freshener, she said, ‘Our internals say we’re neck and neck.’

‘Same here. Margin of error.’

‘Well, it’s going to be interesting to see what you do next, Dev.’

‘I’m sure you’ll come up with something that’ll degrade all the standards of taste and decency.’

‘I’ll try but doing it isn’t as easy as it looks. I wish I was as much of a bitch as people think.’ The way she was playing with her glass, twisting it around, I realized she was stalling. I’d wondered why she’d come to my hotel. I had pretty much surmised by now that Burkhart had been afraid to run the video of the prostitute talking about Ward because then Ward would run the video about Burkhart. It was nice that Sylvia had confirmed it for me but it was unlike her to be so friendly and offer so much information.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘I need to get upstairs. Work to do, Sylvia. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of work, too.’

So of course she got down to it. ‘Why the hell are you chasing after Burkhart’s wife?’

‘We’ve talked a few times, so what?’

‘About what?’

‘She’s a nice woman. I like talking to nice women.’

‘She’s a conniving bitch.’

‘Really? Gosh, I didn’t get that impression at all.’

‘Look, asshole, what’s really going on with you two?’

‘Ah, the Sylvia Fordham I know and love. “Asshole” is pretty mild for you.’

‘I have a right to know.’

My laugh penetrated the darkness like the beacon of a lighthouse. ‘You do? And by what right would that be?’

‘Because Rusty’s my candidate and anything that affects him affects his wife. And it’s very strange that you and his wife have been seen talking together at least twice.’

I wondered if she knew about Mrs Burkhart and David Nolan. Their meetings.

‘Why don’t you ask Mrs Burkhart if you’re so interested?’

‘Because I’m asking you.’

‘Look, Sylvia. I meant what I said. I have a lot of work to do and I know you do, too. Tonight’s the big night for both sides. There’s a lot of prep still to be done. There isn’t much point sitting here trying to find out something from me when I don’t have anything to tell you.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘I met her a few times completely by accident and we did our best to be civil about the campaign. That’s all.’

‘You’re already lying. The girl at campaign headquarters said that you came there specifically asking to see Mrs Burkhart.’

‘I remember asking if that was Mrs Burkhart. She’s a good-looking woman. But I did not ask to see her.’

‘You’re lying.’

I was on my feet. ‘Always pleasant to see you, Sylvia.’

‘You bastard. You’re lying and you know it.’

The waitress materialized and said, ‘Will there be anything else?’

I smiled at Sylvia. ‘She’d like three more of what she’s been having.’

Behind the waitress’s back Sylvia flipped me off.

Ed Gorman

Dev Conrad — 03 — Blindside