Shakeup

8

On Friday morning, Joan entered Stone’s office and handed him a thick, creamy envelope with the words Ralph Lauren printed on the backflap. “This came for you,” she said. “I suppose it’s a tailoring bill, but somehow, it doesn’t sound like you.”

Stone removed the contents of the envelope and scanned it, then burst out laughing. “I didn’t think she’d do it,” he said.

“Who’d do it?”

“Holly. We can expect her sometime this afternoon. She’ll drive straight into the garage.”

“I’m confused,” Joan said. “In a burka?”

“Exactly. It’s the only way she can travel around the city without being recognized.”

Joan laughed, too. “God, I hope the tabloids don’t get wind of this.”

“They won’t, because you and a Secret Service agent are the only people who know. If the press finds out, we’ll know who to shoot.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. A Mr. Donald Clark phoned, and he insisted on coming over here immediately. He says you know him.”

“We’ve met,” Stone said. “I’ve met his wife, too. Send him in when he arrives. And send Ralph Lauren a check.”

“Will do.”

Five minutes later, Joan ushered in Donald Clark.

Stone shook his hand. “Hello, Don. Once again, my condolences.”

“Thank you, Stone.”

“And thank you for your hospitality on Inauguration Day.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“What brings you to see me, Don?”

“I have a problem, and I hope you can help me with it.”

“That depends on the problem.”

“You may not have heard, yet, but the president has withdrawn my name for consideration by the Senate for the cabinet office of secretary of commerce.”

“I heard,” Stone said, not mentioning that he had heard before Clark.

“Her reasons were, first, that I looked tired and should have a rest, far from Washington. And, second, that I was unlikely to have enough support in the Senate for confirmation to a cabinet position.”

“Well, for the first, I can confirm that you do look tired, Don, as I would think any normal human being would after being subjected to the treatment that you have received from the media. As for the second reason, I am not a politician, but the president certainly is, and she is advised by political experts. If they see your confirmation by the Senate as a problem, then it is, ipso facto, a problem.”

Clark’s face reddened. “That is the conventional wisdom, of course,” he said.

“Sometimes the conventional wisdom is the best wisdom available,” Stone replied. He shrugged. “I’m afraid I can’t see how I could be of help to you.”

“Here’s how: I want to launch a private investigation into my wife’s murder. I know that you have a police background, and I’d like you to head the investigation.”

“To what effect?”

“To the effect of clearing my name and making me suitable for a cabinet post.”

“So you want me to conduct an investigation that clears you of your wife’s murder?”

“That is correct.”

“Don, an investigation that ends in a preconceived verdict would not be an investigation. It would be a sham, and no honorable attorney or firm would be a part of that. I think what you need is a publicist, what those in Washington like to call a spin doctor. The problem is that preconceived verdict I mentioned. What a publicist can do is to hear your story, read all the news reports, and write a statement for you to deliver to the media — preferably in person — that asserts your claim of innocence. That might dispel some doubts, but not all doubts. Some people are just doubters.”

“Then what am I to do?”

“I’m afraid that you will have to wait for the police to announce the results of their investigation into your wife’s murder. It would be very helpful to your cause if they also announced the arrest and charging of a perpetrator — one who is not you.”

“So you think that I killed or hired someone to kill my wife?”

“I have not formed an opinion on that subject, not having heard the results of the police investigation,” Stone said. “I can tell you, though, that if you, before the police investigation is concluded, make a public declaration of your innocence, then the results of the investigation could turn public opinion against you. My advice is to wait for that announcement, then make a public statement either accepting or denying the results of the investigation. It is likely, though, that a police announcement establishing your guilt will have been preceded by your arrest, so you will have to wait for your arraignment to declare your innocence to the public.

“In the meantime, I advise you to retain a criminal attorney from a distinguished Washington law firm to declare your innocence and to respond to any hint of your guilt. And I’m afraid that is all I can do for you.”

They rose simultaneously, and Clark extended his hand. “Thank you for your advice. Please send me your bill.”

“Don, you are welcome to my advice, and there is no bill.”

Clark turned and walked out of Stone’s office.

Joan buzzed Stone. “Dino on line one.”

Stone picked up his phone. “You won’t believe who just left my office,” he said.

“My best guess would be Donald Clark,” Dino said.

“How the hell did you know that?”

“Because you are the third attorney in New York that he has spoken to today.”

“Are you having him followed?”

“Maybe just the tiniest bit.”

“Who...” Stone began, then stopped himself. “Never mind, I don’t want to know who the other attorneys were.”

“I’ll give you a hint,” Dino said, “they are all sleazier than you.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“Dinner tonight?” Dino asked.

“I’m afraid I am otherwise occupied.”

“Anybody I know?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” Stone said. “She wears a burka.” He hung up, laughing.