Capitol Conspiracy

28

“Got it!” Jones said, as he ran into the office, practically colliding with Christina at the front desk.

“Do you indeed?” she answered, not looking up from her phone messages. Over the years, she had become accustomed to Jones’s occasional bursts of irrational enthusiasm and had learned to restrain her expectations. “And what would that be?”

“Something you’re going to want to see.”

Christina laid down her papers, sighing. She knew she would never find out what he had until he felt she had given him the proper amount of attention. “All right, Jones. What’ve you got?”

“Oh, nothing much…”

“Jones,” she said firmly, giving him the look. “Don’t toy with me. What is it?”

Jones had also worked with Christina long enough to know that when she gave him the look, it was time to submit. “Just a little something you wanted from the Bethesda Coroner’s Office.”

Her eyes instantly widened. “Already?” She snatched the envelope out of his hands. “Freedom of Information Act requests usually take weeks. Sometimes months.”

Jones laid a hand across his chest. “You’re not the only one who has connections in this town, you know.”

“Apparently not.” She pulled the papers out of the envelope and began to read:

CORONER’S REPORT-EMILY BLAKE

Office of the Coroner-Medical Examiner Case No. 1003-76

Capitol Boulevard, Washington, D.C. Report of Investigation Decedent: Emily Margaret Blake

Age: 42

Sex: Female

Race: White

Occupation: First Lady

Employed by: The White House

Type of Death: Apparent Natural____________________

Violent__X__ At Work____________________

Not at Work _

Description:

Height: 5' 6"

Weight: 131

Hair: Black

Eyes: Brown

Tattoos: One, left buttock

Scars: None identified

Other Identifying Features: Large birthmark in center of back

Rigor Mortis: None

Livor Mortis: Slight posterior

Narrative Summary: Victim arrived dead via Air Force Two at approximately 12:42 local time. Preliminary examination revealed massive brain trauma apparently induced by a bullet to the head…

Christina blinked. “The first lady had a tattoo on her butt?”

Jones nodded. “It’s true what they say. You never really know someone until they’re dead.”

Christina scanned the report. It was more than a little ghoulish, reading intimate details about a woman so beloved by her country-including Christina-after she was dead and buried. But there was a reason. Something was going on here, something more than just a stray bullet during a presidential assassination attempt. She intended to get to the bottom of it.

Christina continued scanning. Toxicology, tissue samples, blood screens, serology…

“Wait a minute,” she said abruptly. “What’s with the black bar?”

Jones peered over her shoulder. Sure enough, black bars covered the six lines that followed the topic heading SEROLOGY.

“It’s been redacted,” Jones said, stating the obvious. “Before the document was released.”

“But why? Under the FOIA, government agencies are not authorized to redact any document unless there is a potential threat to national security.”

“So the first lady’s blood test poses a threat to national security? You think she had…some kind of disease?” He didn’t mention any disease in particular, but he knew what they both were thinking.

“I don’t see how that could possibly have been covered up.”

“Loving thinks the government can cover anything up.”

“Including the fact that President Blake is a Martian. I don’t think that’s it.”

“But what, then? What could be so secret about her blood?”

“Serology isn’t necessarily limited to blood analysis, in a coroner’s report. It could cover any bodily fluids.”

“I’m still not seeing the threat to national security.”

Christina pondered a moment, batting a finger against her lips. “Seems rather improbable, doesn’t it? And yet, there must be some reason this information was redacted. Perhaps because, whether it affected national security or not, someone just didn’t want this information made public.”

“Who would have the power to get this document altered just because he or she didn’t want it made public?”

“There are only a few possibilities,” Christina said. “None of them good.”

“You think this is about the first lady, don’t you? The whole thing.”

Christina thought carefully before answering. “I don’t know what it is. But I intend to find out.”

Christina was still pondering the coroner’s report when she heard a knock on the door of her private office.

Jones poked his head inside. “Someone here wants to see you.”

“Are they from the coroner’s office?”

“I don’t think so. Suit-and-tie types.”

“Shoes?”

“Very nice. Gucci, I think.”

Christina frowned. “Lobbyists. Tell them I’m busy.”

“I don’t think you want to do that, Ms. McCall.”

She looked up, startled by the voice emanating from somewhere behind Jones.

Jones drew himself up, obviously miffed. “I asked you to wait outside.”

“What we have to tell Ms. McCall can’t wait.”

“If I tell you it can wait, then by God-”

“It’s okay, Jones,” Christina said, stepping out from behind her desk. At the same time, two men, both in identical black suits, entered. One glance at them was enough to give her the creeps. Unfortunately, they had also piqued her curiosity. She preferred to take the risk that she would regret talking with them to spending the rest of the day wondering what they wanted. “Come on in.”

After they were in her office, she whispered to Jones, “Turn on Line X,” then closed the door behind him.

She retook her position behind her desk, while the two men sat in the chairs on the opposite side. They looked impervious to standard intimidation techniques, but if nothing else, she received some comfort from the hierarchical arrangement, her safely behind the desk, them watching from over yonder.

“What can I do for you, gentlemen? Is this business or pleasure?”

The taller of the two, apparently the designated spokesman, leaned forward, smiling a smile that Christina did not find warm or friendly. “We’d like to talk to you about the president’s proposed constitutional amendment.”

Christina remained calm. “That does seem to be the hot topic of the day.”

“We’re lobbyists…of a sort. For the amendment. We feel it is vitally important to the future of this nation that the amendment be passed.”

“So some people think.”

“We wanted to be sure we had your support.”

Christina brushed her long strawberry blond hair behind her head. “Oh, my-this is embarrassing. You must think I’m the senator. But I’m not. I’m just a lowly chief of staff. I don’t get to vote.”

The tall man once again smiled the creepy smile. “I am aware that you’re not a senator, Ms. McCall. But you’re married to one.”

“Guess I can’t deny that.”

“And there are many who feel you’re the most influential voice in the senator’s ear.”

“That probably depends on what I’m saying.”

“What most of my sources tell me you’re saying at present is-you don’t think the amendment is a very good idea.”

“I’m afraid there is some truth in that. But I still don’t get to vote. And Ben is very adamant about this amendment. You may have seen him on television. When the president made him his go-to boy for the Democratic Party. Or perhaps you heard him single-handedly sway the Senate subcommittee.”

The tall man glanced at his silent partner. The partner reached inside his suit jacket, but the tall man held up a hand, stopping him. Not yet.

“We have been very pleased with Senator Kincaid’s performance so far. That’s why we want it to continue, until we get this law out of Congress and into the hands of the people.”

“Do you have some reason to doubt his resolve?” Christina asked. “Because I certainly haven’t seen any.”

“There are those who consider him…unacceptably risky. A dangerous element that might turn at any moment. Especially if his newlywed wife starts putting pressure on him.”

Christina couldn’t resist arching an eyebrow. “And exactly what kind of pressure do you foresee me putting on him?”

The tall man smiled again. Yuck. “I’m sure you have your ways. Most women do.”

“Look, this has been fun, in a not-really-fun sort of way, but I’m done playing. Just tell me what you want and then I can tell you to go to hell and we can all get on with our day.”

The two men exchanged a look, one that took a good deal longer this time.

“Fine,” the tall man said, steepling his fingers, “we’ll play it your way. We want you to cease and desist putting any and all pressure on your husband to withdraw his support from this amendment. In fact, we’d take it as a personal show of good faith if you would lend your personal support to the amendment and tell him you’re backing him all the way.”

“Then all I can say,” Christina said, biting back her emotions as much as was humanly possible, “is that you don’t know me very well.”

“Yes,” the tall man replied, and his voice dripped with a sorrow that almost resembled something genuine. “I suspected that would be your response.” He turned to his companion and nodded. A moment later, a small packet of photos emerged from his breast pocket.

He tossed them onto Christina’s desk. “Don’t get any wacky ideas about running off with them. We have copies, obviously. And the digital files from which they were printed.”

Christina’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Is this something I’m supposed to look at?”

“I think that would be a really good idea.”

Christina reached for the photos, silently dreading it, wondering what they might have caught her doing. She knew that she could be blunt, indiscreet, much too direct for this town. Had they somehow caught her doing something she shouldn’t? Browbeating a senator’s administrative assistant? Sneaking into closed meetings? Parking in a senator’s parking spot?

She pulled the photos from the folder.

They weren’t of her. They were of Ben! Ben with Her hands covered her face.

“I know this must hurt,” the tall man said. “Particularly given that you’re newlyweds. But Washington can be a stressful place to sustain a marriage. Temptation is everywhere. My sources tell me that the senator has spent many nights alone”-he paused when he heard the gasping sound from behind Christina’s hand and saw her shoulders heaving-“and even the best of men might…do things he might not have done had he stayed in the bucolic safety of Oklahoma. This is the big city and-”

He stopped. He didn’t like to hear a woman cry-who did? So he had not been listening closely. But it was impossible for him to avoid noticing the weird sound she was making. Those sharp intakes of breath. The heaving shoulders…

She wasn’t crying. She was laughing!

Christina moved her hand from her mouth, her face convulsed with merriment. “Did-did you really think-?” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She fell back into her chair, still giggling.

“I understand,” the tall man said quietly. “It’s a defense mechanism. You laugh so you don’t cry.”

“N-No,” Christina said, quivering as she spoke, “I laugh so I don’t kick you losers in the butt.”

“Ms. McCall, perhaps you don’t understand the gravity of the situation. Your husband, a member of the U.S. Senate, has been caught in flagrante delicto with a prostitute-”

“Oh, please.”

“My understanding is that her name is Brandi Delight and that she is quite popular in some congressional circles and that the…action was hot and heavy when the photographer by chance happened by-”

“In the hallway!” Christina screamed, still rippling with laughter. “When he happened by in the hallway?”

“I heard…something about a hotel room…”

“Do you think I don’t recognize the hallway outside my own apartment? What did you clowns do-throw her on top of him while he was getting the morning paper?”

“I assure you, the scene is just as it appears-”

“Well, it appears to me that poor Ben is stunned and desperate to get away from this floozy in the cheap Frederick’s of Hollywood getup.”

“I think I know a little more about this than you do-”

“No, sir, you don’t. Not even close. Or you wouldn’t be trying this stupid stunt.” Christina rose to her feet, hovering over her desk. “Ben would never be with this woman. He wouldn’t be interested in the first place, but even if he were, he wouldn’t do it, because he loves me.”

The tall man rolled his eyes. “Love is blind.”

“No, you stupid ass, love is knowledge, especially when you’ve loved someone as long as I have Ben. I don’t care what you do with your hidden photographers and Photoshop. I know damn well Ben wouldn’t be with this woman, even if we’re having a spat. So give it up already.”

The tall man tugged at the lapels of his jacket. “If you don’t take these photographs seriously, Ms. McCall, I can assure you the press will.”

“What press? The National Enquirer? No legitimate paper will run these photos, because they’ll know they’re as faked as I know they are.”

“There’s always someone, somewhere…”

“Maybe so, but you’re not going to go to any of those places, because if you do, I’ll expose your little scheme for the nasty political blackmail that it is.”

“No one will believe you.”

“I think they will.” Smiling a genuine smile, Christina patted the phone on her desk. “Because you see, for the entire duration of our conversation, I’ve had you on speakerphone. A very amped up, powerful, speakerphone. And our office manager has been recording every word you say. It’s what we call Line X.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe it, fool. We come from the world of criminal justice, and some of the people there make you government twerps look like total amateurs. You take those photos anywhere near the press, and the recording goes with them.”

“I still don’t believe you.”

Christina glanced at the phone. “Playback.”

There was a sudden beep on the phone console, followed by the sound of the tall man’s own voice. “…we’ll play it your way. We want you to cease and desist putting any and all pressure on your husband to withdraw his support from this amendment…”

Both men rose to their feet, eyes wide. “What you have done, Ms. McCall, by recording our conversation without obtaining prior permission or giving notice, is a violation of the Federal Wiretapping Act.”

“How ironic that you should suddenly be concerned about civil rights.”

“I think it is incumbent upon us to confiscate this recording.” Both men moved toward the door.

“Don’t bother with the strongman tactics,” Christina said, stopping them. “Jones isn’t an idiot. He’s already halfway to the Senate copy room, making duplicate recordings with about a hundred other assistants. So unless you’re planning to take them all out, just chill and accept the fact that you’ve been beaten at your own nasty little game. And while we’re at it, let me inform you that I know perfectly well you’re not lobbyists. You’re Secret Service.”

The two men stopped in their tracks.

“For one thing,” Christina continued, “your idiot partner is still wearing his Secret Service lapel pin. For another, you’re packing a. 357 SIG under your jacket, standard Secret Service issue. In fact-don’t I recognize you? Weren’t you in Oklahoma City on April nineteenth?”

“I think we’ll be going now. I’ll take the photos.”

“No,” Christina said, scooping them off her desk, “I don’t think you will.”

“We have copies.”

“No doubt. But I want these to show Ben. So we can have a good chuckle over them in the years to come. I think maybe I’ll file them with the wedding photos.”

The tall man squinted. “You are one sick puppy.”

“This from the man who was willing to destroy a new marriage to gain a political advantage. You’re the scum of the earth, buddy, and don’t try to tell yourself otherwise. Now get the hell out of my office!”

Christina watched with great pleasure as the two men did exactly that.

She settled back into her chair, allowing her blood pressure to return to normal, letting down the impervious facade she needed to keep those particular demons at bay.

Ben, Ben, Ben. What have you gotten yourself into this time?

But she already knew the answer to that question. And she knew something else as well.

As much as it made her stomach roil, as much as she hated to do it, she would have to support Ben. She would have to give him whatever help he needed, as long as he was determined to support this amendment. Otherwise, these sharks would eat him alive.

She hated this amendment. But there were worse things in the world than being needed by the man you loved.