Oath of Office

CHAPTER 47

“Who is this?”

Kim could barely hear the caller above the din of rush hour noise.

She blocked her ear with one hand and moved away from the traffic and closer to the buildings. It had been a brutal day at work, and she had chosen take-home salad from Panera Bread over dinner with a potentially interesting congressman from California.

“Kim, it’s Doug, from Bar None,” the caller said.

“The bartender?”

“Yeah, Doug the bartender.”

Kim became hyperfocused. Why would he be calling? How did he even know her phone number?

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Some guy in the bar wants to buy you a drink. He gave me your number and paid me a hundred bucks to call you. Sorry to bug you, but the truth is I can always use that kind of cash.”

Kim tensed. “Is it … the same guy from before?” she asked.

“Look, you’ve come in here lots of times with a bunch of great-looking women, and I’m not sure I could pick any of you out of a crowd. People buy people drinks all the time here. I’m just a messenger.”

“Could you tell me what the guy looks like?”

There was a pause. “Well, actually, I can. He’s old.”

“Old? Can you see him?”

“Not at the moment. It’s pretty busy right now. He said he’ll be sticking around for another fifteen minutes. Longer if you promise to show up. Okay? I got to go.”

“Okay,” Kim replied to a dead line. “I’ll be there.”

Not Double M, she thought.

No longer feeling exhausted, Kim called Darlene.

“Hey, there,” Darlene said, answering her phone on the first ring with an unusually somber voice.

Something was wrong.

“You okay?” Kim asked, already headed toward the Bar None.

“Actually, no, I’m not. Want to talk?”

“Actually, we’ve got to talk.”

She told Darlene about the bartender’s call.

“If it’s not Double M,” Darlene said, “it’s probably someone with a message from him. You’ve got to go there right now.”

“I’m already on my way. What about you?”

“I’ll call or else meet you there as soon as I can. And Kim,” she added, catching her chief of staff just before she ended the call.

“Yes?”

“You be careful.”

When Kim arrived, Bar None was enjoying another packed night of deep-pocketed patrons. Spotting an opening at the bar near where Doug was serving at Mach 2 speed, she wormed her way onto the stool and waved for the bartender’s attention. When he finally came over, he seemed unaware that he had just minutes ago called her cell phone. He just stood there, waiting impatiently to take her order. The jukebox was blasting a song from the country trio Lady Antebellum, and a dozen young and beautifuls were vying for his attention.

“What can I get you?” he called out.

“I’m the woman you just phoned.”

Recognition dawned. “Oh yeah,” he said, nodding vigorously. “Here you go.” He handed Kim an open Amstel Light, along with a cardboard coaster.

She left the beer on the bar and flipped over the coaster. To her surprise, there was no writing on the bottom. Her heartbeat began to accelerate.

“Edwin told me you’d do that,” said a gravelly voice at her elbow.

Kim snapped her head right and saw a cadaverous-looking man in a nicely tailored suit and striped bow tie. Tall and stoop shouldered, the man, well into his seventies, she guessed, extended a bony hand. He had a road map of narrow veins covering his sunken cheeks, and bushy white eyebrows hovering above a set of intelligent chestnut eyes.

“Who are you?” Kim asked.

“My name is Shank, Norman Shank,” he said. “I am a friend of Mr. Edwin Chester, and also his attorney.”

No business card. Kim doubted she would find a Norman Shank in any listing of area lawyers.

“Go on,” she said.

“My instructions were to contact you precisely in the manner I am doing. Regrettably, I am afraid that something terrible has befallen Edwin.”

“Edwin?”

“Edwin Chester, the son of William Chester of Chester Enterprises.”

“The seed giant?”

“Yes,” Shank said. “He is also the man you know as Double M.”

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” Kim asked, glancing around for anyone who seemed interested in them.

“According to my understanding, everything that Edwin has to say is contained in here.” Shank handed over a large sealed manila envelope. “You see, for some time now, Edwin has instructed me to phone him every day at three o’clock in the afternoon, sharp. If he failed to answer my phone call, I was to send him a text message. Difficult thing, teaching an old man like me how to text. In any event, if Edwin failed to respond to my text within an hour, I was to assume that he was either dead or incapacitated. In that event, I was to contact you via Doug, here at Bar None, and hand-deliver this envelope.”

“Double M is dead?” Kim asked, struggling to remain composed.

The lawyer smiled sadly. “The likelihood is that the most dire misfortune has, in fact, befallen him. Once I have done as he requested here, I will set about to learn what has happened, but we must think the worst.”

Kim clutched the envelope. “Thank you.”

Her thoughts swirled through the implications of Double M’s death-either murder or suicide, it seemed.

Shank bowed his head slightly. “I must be going now. Please do not try to contact me. Those are Edwin’s wishes. If I learn anything you need to know, I will get back to you.” He turned and shambled from the restaurant.

Kim, never losing contact with the envelope, drank half her Amstel in two gulps and again scanned the patrons for anyone paying too much attention to her. The game had changed to serious hardball. Fifteen minutes later, she was considering another beer when her cell phone rang.

“I’m parked right outside,” Darlene said.