The Book of Fate

73

And how’d you meet him again?” Lisbeth asked, holding her cell phone with one hand and taking notes with the other.

“Mutual friend,” Violet replied, her voice already shaking. “It was years ago. At that point on the job, it was personal introductions only.”

“Introductions?”

“You have to understand, with a man like him, you don’t just walk up and swing your tail. In this town — with all the money… with everything these guys have to lose — the only thing they care about is discretion, okay? That’s why they sent him to me.”

“Of course,” Lisbeth said as she scribbled the word Hooker in her notepad. “So you were…”

“I was twenty, is what I was,” Violet said with a verbal shove. She didn’t like being judged. “But lucky me, I could keep a secret. That’s why I got the work. And with him… our first two appointments, I didn’t even say his name. That alone guaranteed he’d invite me back. Gladiators need to conquer, right?” she asked, her laughter soft and hollow.

Lisbeth didn’t laugh back. There was no pleasure in someone else’s pain.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Violet added, “but it was nice in the beginning. He was, honestly… he was tender — always asking if I was okay… he knew my mother was sick, so he’d ask about her. I know, I know — he’s a politician, but I was twenty and he was…” Her voice trailed off.

Lisbeth didn’t say anything. But as the silence wore on… “Violet, are you—?”

“It sounds so damn stupid, but I was just thrilled he liked me,” she blurted, clearly trying to stifle a sob. From the sound of it, the flush of emotion surprised even her. “I’m sorry — let me just… I’m sorry…”

“You have no reason to be sorry.”

“I know — I just… it mattered that he liked me… that he kept coming back,” she explained, sniffling it all back in. “I wouldn’t see him for a while, then the phone would ring, and I’d be jumping up and down, like I’d been asked to the prom. And that’s how it was until… until he left one night and I didn’t hear from him for almost three months. I was… to be honest, at first, I was worried. Maybe I did something wrong. Or he was mad. And then, when I heard he was in town, I did the one thing I never should’ve done — the dumbest thing I could possibly do, against every rule,” Violet explained, her voice barely a whisper. “I called him.”

Right then Lisbeth stopped writing.

“He was at my place in ten minutes,” Violet said, another sob clogging her throat. “Wh-When I opened the door, he stepped inside without a word… made sure he was out of view… and then he just — I swear to you, he never did it before…”

“Violet, it’s okay to—”

“I didn’t even see the first punch coming,” she said as the tears flooded forward. “He just kept screaming at me, ‘How dare you! How dare you!’ I tried fighting back — I did… I’m… I’ve never been weak — but he grabbed the back of my hair and he… he sent me straight for… there was a mirror above my dresser.”

Staring at her own rounded reflection in her computer screen, Lisbeth didn’t move.

“I could see him behind me in the mirror… just as I hit it… I could see him behind me… his face… the red in his eyes. It was like he pulled off a mask and let out… like he freed something underneath,” Violet cried. “And — and — and when he was gone… when the door slammed and the blood was pouring from my nose, I still — I know it’s — can you believe I still missed him?” she asked, weeping uncontrollably. “I–I mean, could I possibly be more pathetic than that?”

Lisbeth shook her head to herself, trying hard to stay focused. “Violet, I know this is hard for you — I know what it takes to tell the story — but I just need— Before we do anything, I need to ask: Do you have any way of proving this… anything at all… videotapes, physical proof…?”

“You don’t believe me,” she insisted.

“No, no, no… it’s just, look who you’re fighting with here. Without a way of verifying—”

“I have proof,” Violet said, clearly annoyed as she caught her breath. “I’ve got it right here. If you don’t believe me, come get it.”

“I will, I’ll come right now. Lemme just… hold on one second…” Pressing her cell phone to her chest and hopping out of her seat, Lisbeth grabbed the uncrumpled art award notes, darted out of her cubicle, and ducked into a blond reporter’s cubicle directly across the hall. “Eve, can I borrow your car?” Lisbeth asked.

“First my phone — which I still haven’t gotten back — now my car—”

“Eve!”

Eve studied her friend, reading her expression. “This’s the one, isn’t it?”

“Column’s on my computer. Here’s the last item,” Lisbeth said, tossing her the art award notes. “Can you—?”

“On it,” Eve said as Lisbeth said thank you, took off up the hallway, and pressed her cell to her ear. “Violet, I’m on my way,” she said, doing her best to keep her talking. Sacred Rule #9: Never let go of the big fish. “So… how long were you two actually together?”

“A year and two months,” Violet replied, still sounding angry. “Right before the shooting.”

Lisbeth stopped running. “Wait, this was when he was still in the White House?”

“Of course. Every President goes home for vacation. Besides, he couldn’t pull this off in Washington. But down here… I’d get the phone call and he could—”

“Violet, no bullshitting anymore — you’re trying to tell me that despite all the security — despite dozens of Secret Service agents — you were sleeping with and got beat up by the President of the United States while he was still in office?”

“President?” Violet asked. “You think I was sleeping with Manning? No, no, no… the other mention — about running for Senate…”

“You mean—”

“The little animal who mauled me. I was talking about Dreidel.”