Capitol murder

Chapter Forty-five

Brad had been questioned by the Capitol Police and the FBI for hours after the incident with the intruder, and Senator Carson had told him to take the next day off. Having a lazy day at home was terrific, but it also meant that he was behind in his work when he returned to the office, so he’d had to stay late to catch up. Brad was putting the finishing touches on a memo when Senator Carson appeared in his doorway. Lucas Sharp was standing beside him.

“Good, I’m glad I caught you before you left,” Carson said. “You live near here, don’t you?”

“Just a few blocks.”

“I’ll give you a lift home. It’s too late to be wandering around Capitol Hill alone.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Nonsense. I insist.”

Brad was exhausted and grateful for the ride. The trio took the elevator to the garage in silence. Lucas Sharp led the way to a black Lincoln town car. Sharp drove, and the senator sat in front. Brad told Sharp his address just before the car pulled out of the garage. Then he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked at the street signs.

“I think you took a wrong turn,” Brad said. “We’re headed away from my apartment.”

“We’re going to my house first,” Senator Carson said. “There are a few matters Luke and I need to discuss with you.”

Brad wondered why they had to go to the senator’s home to talk. He was also having trouble keeping his eyes open, and he was starving.

“Can this wait until tomorrow, Senator? I’m out on my feet.”

“I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t really important. I have plenty of guest rooms. You can sleep at my estate when we’re through, or Luke can drive you home.”

“Okay,” Brad said reluctantly. He wanted desperately to head for his apartment, but you don’t say no to a United States senator, especially if he’s your boss. “Let me call my wife to tell her I’ll be late.”

“That’s not necessary,” Sharp said. “We won’t keep you long.”

There was an undercurrent of menace in Sharp’s tone, and suddenly Brad felt uneasy, but he didn’t insist on calling Ginny.

Everyone was quiet during the ride from the Capitol to the Virginia countryside. A little less than an hour after leaving the Capitol, the car parked in front of a white colonial mansion with a portico shaded by an overhang supported by pillars. The estate had reminded Brad of Tara from Gone with the Wind when he’d visited for the staff picnic shortly after he’d started working.

“My wife and the kids are in Oregon, and I’ve given the staff the night off, so we won’t be disturbed,” Carson said when Brad got out of the car.

“What do you want to talk about?” Brad asked nervously.

The senator opened the front door. “I’m interested in how much you know about Jessica Koshani’s connection with Executive Escorts and how you came by the information,” Carson said.

Brad hesitated. “I told you I can’t talk about that, Senator.”

“That’s not an option anymore,” Sharp said as he crowded in behind Brad and forced him into the front hall. Carson turned on the light.

“What are you talking about?” Brad asked, suddenly frightened.

Before Sharp could answer, a large man in jeans and a leather jacket stepped from behind the door and slammed a gun butt into Sharp’s head. Sharp slumped to the floor. Two more armed men appeared from the shadows. One man was as massive as Sharp’s assailant. The other was Brad’s height and slender.

“Put your hands behind you,” Mustapha said calmly. “If you resist, we’ll hurt you, and the end result will be the same.”

“Who are you?” Carson asked.

Mustapha answered by slamming his gun into Carson’s face. The senator’s knees buckled and he looked shocked. Blood poured out of a split lip.

“We aren’t in the Senate. I ask the questions, and you keep your mouth shut except when you’re answering them. Now put your hands behind your back.”

Brad and Carson complied. One of the larger men wrenched Sharp’s arms behind him and secured his wrists with plastic cuffs. The large man who had been at Mustapha’s side stepped behind Brad and the senator and secured their hands. Then Brad, Sharp, and Carson were herded into the living room and lashed to straight-back chairs. Brad tested his ropes and found almost no give.

“Go outside and stand guard,” Mustapha said to the man who had assaulted Lucas Sharp. He left the living room, and Brad heard the front door open and close.

“Senator,” Mustapha said. “I need honest answers. If you don’t give them to me here, we will kill your friends. Then we will take you to a place where we won’t be disturbed and where I will have an unlimited amount of time to question you. If I have to resort to this backup plan, you will suffer an incredible amount of pain. Inevitably, you will tell me everything I want to know. Then you will die. Tell me what I want to know now, and all of you will live.”

Carson was shaking. His brow was beaded with sweat.

“Before we start, I am going to entertain you and your friends with a DVD Miss Koshani recorded.”

Mustapha laid his gun on an end table and picked up a remote.

“Please, no,” Carson begged. “They don’t have to see that. I’ll tell you want you want to know. Please.”

Mustapha pressed PLAY. Brad felt sick when he recognized the man wearing the dog collar. He turned his head away from the screen. Mustapha let the DVD run for a few minutes before stopping it. He turned to Carson.

“What happened at your town house on the day Jessica Koshani was murdered?”

Carson’s head dropped so he was looking at his lap. “I can’t,” he whispered.

Mustapha nodded. The man standing behind the senator took a knife and sliced off Carson’s left earlobe. The senator screamed as blood poured onto his shoulder from the wound.

“Cauterize it,” Mustapha said. The large man took out a lighter and burned the wound until it sealed. Carson was screaming right next to Brad, and Brad had to fight to keep from fainting.

“Senator Carson, what happened in the town house?” Mustapha repeated.

“It wasn’t me,” Carson gasped. “Please don’t hurt me anymore. It wasn’t me.”

“Explain.”

Carson was weeping. His eyes were fixed on the floor. His teeth were clenched from the pain.

“Lucas did it. He killed her.”

Brad looked at the chief of staff. He was glaring at his oldest friend with unconcealed contempt.

“Start at the beginning,” Mustapha commanded.

“She made me come over. She asked about the plot, what the FBI knew. Nothing had changed. I told her Homeland Security knew there was something big planned but not what the target was or when the plan was going to be executed. Then she asked me about the hearing, what would happen, what questions the committee would ask. A little before noon, she told me I could go. She was staying on the second floor in the guest bedroom. She took out a cell phone and went upstairs. As I was walking to the front door I heard her talking to someone.”

Carson paused and took a few deep breaths. When he started to speak again, his voice was ragged.

“I crept up the stairs. I was hoping I would learn who she was talking to so I would have leverage to get the DVD back. I heard her mention FedEx Field. Then she stopped talking and closed the phone. She must have heard me, because the next thing I knew, she was in the doorway with a knife. I was shocked. She stabbed at me and I jumped back. She ran at me and stabbed me in the side. I don’t remember how it happened. It must have been reflex. I hit her. It was hard and right on the chin. She fell back and hit her head on the corner of the grandfather clock. It’s solid wood, and it stunned her. I hit her again and she collapsed.

“I was in a panic. I called Luke. When he arrived, I was light-headed and in a lot of pain. Luke applied first aid, but he said a doctor should check me out. Koshani was still unconscious when he arrived, but she was breathing. I told Luke everything: the blackmail, the DVD. He said we had to force her to tell us where she had the DVD and who had copies so we could destroy them. He told me he’d been a DA when Clarence Little was killing people in Oregon. He’d seen the autopsy reports, he’d actually seen the body of one of the victims in person, and he’d read the opinion of the Oregon judge who reversed Little’s cases. The opinion described the method of torture in detail. He said he’d make it look like Little killed her.”

The senator was babbling, and Mustapha listened patiently as Brad’s boss threw his oldest friend under the bus.

“It wasn’t my idea. I didn’t even mean to hurt her. He took off her clothes and tied her to the chair. He woke her up. She was very groggy. She could barely speak. She must have had a concussion. I tried to stop him, but he cut her until she answered all of his questions. She told him where she kept the DVD. She gave him the alarm code to her house. When… when he was through, he killed her. It wasn’t me.”

Carson looked up at Mustapha. His eyes begged for mercy. Mustapha smiled and nodded to show he understood.

“Go on,” Mustapha urged his prisoner.

“Luke said I needed an alibi and someplace to rest until my wounds healed. We flew to Portland on my private jet so he could get the DVD. I told him about Dorothy Crispin. He paid her to let me stay while I healed. He knew a doctor with a drug habit from his days in the DA’s office. He took care of me for a price. It was Luke who called Dana Cutler with Crispin’s name. He said it made the alibi more believable if a reporter discovered her name.”

“Did you tell the FBI or CIA about FedEx Field?”

“No, I swear. I didn’t have time. I was in Oregon. I was hiding out. If I told, they’d know I was with Koshani when she was killed.”

Brad couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Carson had known about the plot to destroy FedEx Field and he’d done nothing.

“I swear I never betrayed you,” Carson said. “Please, don’t kill me.”

Mustapha looked Carson in the eye. “You are truly pathetic. You are a pervert and a craven coward and a perfect example of the infidels who run your country.”

He looked at the man who was standing behind the three captives.

“Kill them.”