Already on high alert, Darlene tensed even more when she saw Kim approaching. Something had happened between her chief of staff and the young girl from the chorus. And whatever it was, Darlene strongly suspected, had something to do with Double M. Then, when Kim stealthily brought out a small white box from her bag, opened it, extracted something, and quickly closed it again, she was certain.
Martin was at the podium now, waving to the crowd. God, but he loved his job. Each percentage drop in his popularity had been like a dagger in his heart.
Hard as his plummeting numbers were on him, both physically and mentally, he maintained an unyielding belief in his programs and in his vision for the future of America. But lately, reassuring him, deflecting his bullwhip temper, and validating his decisions had become something of a second full-time job for Darlene.
Then there was the matter of her pledge not to contact or mention Russ Evans to him again. It was for this reason Darlene had decided not to tell her husband about Double M-at least not yet. She never had much in the way of craftiness, and Martin generally could see right through her when she tried holding anything back from him. Revealing her connection with D.M., as she and Kim sometimes called the informant, had to be carefully orchestrated, and kept secret until she knew what the man was about.
Kim stood by Darlene’s right shoulder, blocking most angles, and bent down far enough to whisper in her ear. “It’s him.”
“Now?” The First Lady kept her gaze forward and her face expressionless.
“Lower your hand,” Kim said.
Darlene did as instructed, keeping her fingers curled to form a makeshift cup. The plastic object Kim placed there was smaller than a marble and surprisingly heavy. At the same moment, Martin began his address. A screech of feedback from the podium’s single microphone sent a flock of birds into flight, and the AV tech scurrying for his control knobs. Martin tapped twice on the microphone head.
“There,” he said in a voice now rich with electronic reverb, “the First Lady is always telling me to expect the unexpected.”
The laughter was prolonged and genuine.
“That feedback was probably caused by this earphone,” Kim said. “Very powerful. Double M knows his stuff.”
Darlene nodded, smiling for those still looking at her. Kim straightened up and stepped back toward the crowd.
“Thank you all for being here today,” Martin continued. “This is a wonderful opportunity to express America’s deep gratitude and appreciation to a country that shares so many of our values. Our bond is formed not only in the history we share, but in the perseverance that defines our two nations. And I say this not only as a president who can claim and document a deep Irish heritage, but also as a man who is extremely fond of a perfectly poured Guinness.”
The laughter this time was even more enthusiastic.
Darlene knew this speech well, and was prepared for the reaction to Martin’s Guinness joke. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. With the attendees distracted, she pretended to adjust her earring. The earpiece slipped into place without any difficulty.
The first thing she heard was a brief, rather unpleasant hissing sound. It was followed quickly by a clearly understandable man’s voice that sounded as though she were hearing it through a tin can microphone.
“Darlene Mallory must listen to this recording, and she must agree to help.”
Through her left ear, Darlene could hear her husband speaking.
“Before I begin my remarks, and before President Callaghan delivers hers,” Martin said, “it is my great pleasure to introduce the Young People’s Chorus from Washington, D.C., who are here today to welcome us all with their moving rendition of ‘The Face of the Waters.’”
The children began to sing. The harmonies of their angelic voices engulfed the remarkable scene.
“You don’t have to be afraid of us,” Darlene heard a man’s harsh voice say. “You come well recommended for this part, so all you have to do is follow my instructions.”
This was a different voice from the one she had attributed to Double M. Her stomach dropped as if she had fallen off a roof. She glanced over at Kim, who looked curious but also apprehensive.
The man continued. “We’re not going to take the blindfold off you. If we do that, we’d have to kill you.”
Darlene gasped. The voice was calm and as clinical as a science teacher. Educated and probably middle aged, she thought. She wondered briefly about the technology being employed. Was the voice being transmitted, or was it actually held in the device itself?
“You can speak any time something isn’t clear to you. Understood?”
A stuttering woman’s voice-no, a girl’s-said, “Yes. I … understand.”
Darlene felt bile in her throat. In front of her, macabrely, the children continued their pristine hymn.
“All right, then. Let us review the role you have agreed to play. I need to be certain you understand it perfectly. Where are you going to meet Secretary Evans?”
“At the Motel Six on Georgia Avenue. I’ll take a cab and have it drop me off a block away.” The girl sounded less fearful now. There actually was some strength in her voice.
“How will you get the key?”
“Room twenty-four is registered to William Betancourt. I’ll show the front desk clerk my ID and tell him that I lost my key. The clerk will see that I’m on the room registration, and give me a replacement.”
“What time will you do this?”
“Three o’clock in the afternoon.”
“Good. What will you do inside the room?”
“I’m going to get undressed. And then I’ll wait.”
“What are you waiting for?”
“A man-Secretary Evans.”
“Can you describe him from the photographs we gave you?”
“He’s in his fifties. He’s not very fit. He has brown hair, but not a lot of it.”
“Good.”
“When he knocks on the door, what will you do?”
“I’ll drag him into the room. Then I’ll push him onto the bed.”
“You’ll straddle him?”
“Yes.”
“Kiss him?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“What else will you say?”
“I’ll tell him that he’s got me very excited. I’ll put his hands on me to show him just how much. I’ll tell him that I’m going to do it just the way he likes, really, really slowly. If he lets me, I’ll undress him.”
“If he fights you?”
“I’ll act as if it’s all part of the game he likes. I’ll keep straddling him. When he tries to get out from under me, I’ll make sure it looks like we’re playing. Getting physical.” Her tone had gotten even stronger.
“Good.”
“Once I’m off him, I’ll start screaming for him to get out.”
“What then?”
“I’ll wait twenty minutes. If the police don’t show up, I’ll call them myself.”
“What will you tell the police when they show up?”
“I’ll be crying. I’ll pretend to be scared. I’ll tell them that I’m a self-employed escort and that he was my client. A regular.”
“When they ask you if you know who your client is, what will you tell them?”
“I’ll say that his name is Russ Evans and he’s the Secretary of Agriculture. I’ll tell them I had decided to record us fucking. I’m going to use that word, too. I’ll tell them that the video camera was recording when he got rough with me after I told him to leave. Then I’ll show them where I hid the camera and tripod.”
“You’re very good at this,” the man said.
“When will I get paid?”
“Soon. Very soon. Half now, half when you’re done. You did terrific here. It will be a pleasure working with you.”
“Thank you.”
Darlene stared blankly ahead. Her hands were trembling and her breathing was shallow. A cold sweat had formed on the back of her neck and dripped unpleasantly down the inside of her blouse.
The voice of Double M returned. “If you want to help Secretary Evans, we must meet. There’s an alley behind the movie theater on Columbus Avenue. Eight P.M. tomorrow night. Come alone. Tell no one except Kim Hajjar about this recording. Lives are in danger.”
The children finished singing and were rewarded with rapturous applause. Darlene rose to her feet, applauding, though numbly. He legs were Jell-O.
“This is the end of the transmission,” Double M said. “It will loop for ten minutes more before-”
The recording went silent.