Whitewash

by Alex Kava

  “Get in.”

  The guy obeyed, climbing up behind the wheel, staring at the bloody mess that covered the front of Leon’s shirt.

  “I won’t hurt you,” Leon said, trying not to concentrate on the fire starting to sear his insides. “I just need a ride out of this goddamn place.”

  The guy continued to stare for a minute or two. Leon wondered if maybe he should shove him out and attempt to drive the truck himself. They didn’t stop employees or vendors on the way out of the park. Finally the guy pulled on his seat belt and started the engine. But he stopped before he put it into gear and glanced over at Leon.

  “Do you like the Boss, Rolling Stones or the Doobie Brothers?”

  112

  Tallahassee, Florida

  Jason kept going through all his options and came up blank each time. All he had was a couple of changes of clothes and his computer. That’s when he realized he had something else—a briefcase stuffed with documents and a hard drive filled with files. He’d already found a connection between William Sidel and Zach Kensor. What else could he find if he dared to check Senator Allen’s records? Sure, the police would be checking that stuff, too, but maybe Jason could see something they wouldn’t notice or recognize.

  He pulled out his laptop. The airport had wireless Internet service and in a matter of minutes Jason had access to Senator Allen’s bank statements and credit card accounts. Using all his tricks, it only took an additional five minutes to access the senator’s e-mails—both business and personal. When he found the senator’s deleted cache of e-mails he knew he had hit a bull’s-eye.

  Jason downloaded copies of everything to a separate jump drive. The trick—and yes, trick was the appropriate term—was to get the information into the right hands. The cops would laugh if he presented it, but there had to be someone…

  He packed up his laptop and stopped at a gift shop. He bought a Florida State baseball cap and a nine-by-twelve mailing envelope with URGENT printed in tall red letters. From his messenger days he knew that word garnered attention no matter what the package was. He stuffed some copies inside, sealed it and scratched out the recipient’s name on the outside.

  Down in baggage claim he saw his garment bag off to the side abandoned with a group of others. A couple of flights had just come in and the area was crowded. Jason gave a college kid ten bucks to rescue the garment bag. Another ten bucks if he held a cab for him. All the while, Jason watched from the middle of a crowd at the turnstile to see if anyone followed the kid. No one did.

  He asked the cabdriver to drop him off at the corner of the hotel he wanted, and instructed him to drive around the block before he dropped off Jason’s bags in the lobby. That gave Jason enough time to slap on his baseball cap and walk in with only the URGENT envelope. He handed it to the concierge with the practiced indifference and impatience of a messenger.

  “This has to get into the client’s hands ASAP,” he told the concierge who barely glanced up at him, instead focusing on the name on the envelope.

  By the time Jason stepped away from the desk the guy was already on the phone. Jason left the lobby just as his cabdriver dropped his bags on the sidewalk.

  “Thanks, man.” Jason handed him an extra twenty. He stowed the baseball cap in the side pocket of his garment bag, slung straps and bags over his shoulder and entered the lobby again. He headed for a bank of pay phones and then he waited and watched.

  It didn’t take long. A small, well-dressed black man Jason didn’t recognize picked up the URGENT envelope from the concierge. Jason followed him onto the elevator. He played the weary traveler, offering only a weak smile and nod when the man glanced his way. He poked at the already lit fourteen as if he hadn’t noticed his floor had already been selected.

  At the fourteenth floor he let the small man out while he pretended to readjust his bags and determine which way his own room was. The man march-stepped to the end of the hall, knocked on a door and delivered the envelope with only a brief exchange.

  Jason turned a corner and waited until he knew the man was back on the elevator. Then he went to the room at the end of the hall. He took a deep breath and knocked.

  When she opened the door, she was the one who looked relieved.

  “I wondered what happened to you,” Senator Shirley Malone said.

  113

  Airport Marriott Tallahassee, Florida

  Eric didn’t like the idea of them meeting in a suite at the airport Marriott, but the Mayor hadn’t let them down yet. Howard had to return the cabin cruiser. Eric had hoped Sabrina would go with him, but she insisted on coming along to the Marriott. There wasn’t much of an argument. It was her neck that was still at risk.

  Russ carried a leather briefcase that included his laptop and copies of all the processing files. The satellite images and Polaroids Eric had found at EchoEnergy in Sidel’s desk drawer were also in the case.

  “You think we have enough?” Russ asked the Mayor as the four of them stepped off the elevator.

  “This guy’s a straight shooter. He’ll tell us if it’s enough. I’m hoping the combination of stuff will be the proverbial last nail in the coffin.”

  “As long as he doesn’t nail us for how we got the information,” Russ said.

  Eric didn’t blame him. He felt a bit uneasy about this deal, too.

  The Mayor found the suite and knocked while the others stayed back a few paces.

  When the door opened, Eric couldn’t believe he didn’t see this coming. He knew the man though they would both pretend otherwise. So when the Mayor introduced Colin Jernigan, Eric greeted him as if it were their first introduction.

  They spent less than twenty minutes presenting their information. Jernigan nodded a lot and when they finished he rewarded them with, “This is quite a collection.”

  “But can you use it?” the Mayor wanted to know.

  “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

  “They’ll have to stop processing the hurricane debris, right?” the Mayor asked.

  “I would think so.” But Eric didn’t think Jernigan sounded convincing.

  “What’s the punishment these days for contaminating Florida’s waterways?” Russ asked.

  “Punishment? Probably a fine. I’m not sure.”

  “A fine?” Sabrina sat on the edge of her seat. Eric could feel her frustration. “Are you telling me they hired someone to kill me, then they framed me for murder and all to avoid a fine?”

  “There is no proof here that they tried to kill you,” Jernigan said. “I’ll talk to the State Patrol,” he added as if that were her only concern. “I can probably get the charges dropped for your cooperation in this investigation. But I have to be honest with you—” and he waved a hand over the documents and computer files on the coffee table “—none of what you have here will probably add up to a felony charge.”

  “What about the Polaroids?” Eric wanted to know.

  “Those will definitely finish off Senator Allen’s career.”

  “And Sidel?” Sabrina asked.

  “Unless any of those young men are under eighteen, there’s no crime for him to have pornography in his private office.”

  The Mayor and Russ sat quietly. Eric glanced at Sabrina and saw her studying Jernigan. She wasn’t impressed or satisfied. Neither was Eric. But he wasn’t sure what else they could do.

  “I don’t mean to sound so negative,” Jernigan told them. “Altogether the information is compelling—”

  “I just remembered where I’ve seen your name,” Sabrina interrupted.

  Everyone looked at Jernigan. Eric thought she had to be mistaken. The Colin Jernigan he knew didn’t have his name up and out in public much. In fact, it was usually one of those names whispered around Washington. Eric had never been sure who Jernigan exactly worked for in the Justice Department. Nobody seemed to know except that it was someone high in the administration and anything he was involved with was top secret.

  Sabrina pulled out the small pur
ple notebook that Eric knew belonged to Dr. Lansik and she flipped through the pages. She found what she wanted and slid the notebook across the coffee table to Jernigan.

  “Dr. Lansik had your name and phone number written down,” she said, tapping the notebook. “You’ve known about this.”

  Eric stared at Jernigan and he could see the truth, though Jernigan was good. He didn’t shift or jerk in the least. Only his eyes moved, looking up at Sabrina the way someone looks up over reading glasses to be able to see in the distance more clearly.

  “Dr. Lansik had been in touch with me, yes.”

  “So you knew what was happening?”

  Eric could hear her anger just on the fringes. She was talking to Jernigan like he’d heard her talk to an errant student.

  “We didn’t know exactly what was happening. Dr. Lansik backed out. He never showed up.” Jernigan sighed and sat back as if it was something he had no control over. Eric knew better. He knew there probably wasn’t anything Jernigan didn’t have some control over.

  “And you never thought to follow up,” Sabrina said, her voice bordering on sarcasm. “You didn’t bother to see why he didn’t show up.”

  Jernigan glanced at his watch, exaggerating the gesture. He was finished here and wanted them to know he was finished. “No. Some people simply change their minds.”

  Sabrina stood and walked over to Russ’s briefcase. She unzipped a side pocket and took something out. “Dr. Lansik had his mind changed for him,” she said as she placed the plastic bag down on the coffee table in front of Jernigan. “This is all that’s left of him.” Then she headed for the door.

  Russ grabbed his briefcase and followed her out. The Mayor stood waiting for Jernigan to do the same. The old man shook his hand and, without a word, he left, too.

  That left Eric alone with Colin Jernigan. He fingered the plastic bag, then left it on the table.

  “She’s quite a spitfire,” he told Eric.

  “What’d you expect? She’s my sister.”

  “I didn’t realize you were working on this EchoEnergy thing.”

  “I wasn’t,” Eric said. “I’m with Sabrina. I didn’t know there was an EchoEnergy thing. I just stumbled into this because of her. So what will happen to Sidel?”

  “I’m not sure.” Jernigan looked at his watch again. “Unfortunately, he’ll still be hosting the opening bash for the energy summit this evening. There’s no one to confront him. All the attention for scandal and smear is on Senator Allen right now.”

  Eric shook his head. He couldn’t help thinking Sidel had tried to have Sabrina killed and yet he still got to celebrate with the president. It wasn’t right.

  “So, who’d you end up with?” Jernigan asked Eric.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Who did you decide to work with?”

  “DEA.”

  Jernigan nodded his approval. “So you’re here in Tallahassee?”

  “Pensacola Beach.”

  “Drug runners?”

  “Ex-dealer,” Eric said. “We’ve never been able to connect him to anything that would stick. The money was never found.” And that’s what Eric’s report would say. Howard had gone straight. He deserved to be left alone.

  “Well, I have a reception I need to prepare for.”

  There was a knock on the door. Jernigan glanced at Eric and Eric only shrugged.

  It was Sabrina. A cooler, calmer Sabrina.

  “I’m sorry I left like that,” she said, but she was looking at Eric, not Jernigan. “There has to be something more we can do.”

  Jernigan looked to Eric as if waiting for an answer.

  “Maybe there is,” Eric said, getting an idea. “But first there’s something I’ve got to tell you, Bree.”

  114

  Energy Summit

  The Reid Estate

  William Sidel straightened his bow tie in the mirrored glass between him and the limo driver. The tuxedo was a little tighter since the last time he’d worn it, but he still looked good. And he felt good, better than ever. Actually, he felt as though he’d dodged a bullet. He figured it was only a matter of time before John’s lifestyle caught up with him, but Christ! Why the hell did it have to be this week?

  Now the Appropriations Committee would put off voting on the military contract until next week. Or, at least, that’s what he heard. He suspected something else was up and he feared the opposing factions may have already gotten their way. Without John he wouldn’t be privy to the deals that were made in the bars and cafés and even hotel rooms instead of on the floor of Congress.

  He decided tonight he wouldn’t worry about it. He owned tonight, had bought it fair and square. And no one could mess that up.

  115

  Abda couldn’t believe how smoothly the preparations had gone. His polite manner and meticulous eye for detail had earned him a head-table assignment just as he had hoped and anticipated.

  He had seen Khaled shortly after he arrived. His friend looked exhausted, but there was something else in his eyes. Impatience? Anticipation? Abda knew Khaled looked forward to being in this banquet room. He was anxious to witness the exact moment when the President of the United States brought his hands to his throat, gasping for air and ripping at his own flesh in the hopes of relieving the suffocating feeling.

  Unlike Khaled, Abda felt no eagerness. But there was, also, no hesitation, no regret in Abda that it had come down to this. He was prepared to do what was necessary though he looked for every sign that compromise may have been reached. He had heard that a decision had been made, though publicly it appeared to be a quagmire. He understood and accepted that whatever the decision was, it may require death to preserve his country’s interests and reinforce their nation’s status and influence in the global economy. They could not be taken for granted year after year by president after president only to be swept aside for some temporary political maneuver.

  Some might call their tactics extreme and dare to compare them to other radical factions. Others might say it’s only about greed and oil. All of them would be wrong to be so shortsighted.

  Abda stood over the tray with appetizer plates waiting for him to serve as soon as the guests were seated and ready. The powder he was to add would blend in with the Parmesan cheese and never be noticed. He watched with disinterest as the rich man who owned the estate introduced the head table.

  The president had not arrived yet. He would make a grand entrance, no doubt. And when he did, Abda would be ready.

  116

  Natalie Richards nodded and gave a slight wave to Senator Shirley Malone as she entered the room. The woman did look like a class act, tall and stately in black silk with silver sequins. Didn’t hurt to have that handsome young man on her arm though she wasn’t sure she agreed with the Indiana senator’s timing.

  Actually, Natalie was relieved to see that the fallout, the crashing and burning of Senator Allen, wouldn’t include any of his staff. That he would even try blaming Jason Brill was something she had not anticipated, but she couldn’t say she was surprised. It was called survival in Washington. Or collateral damage, as her boss had called Zach Kensor. She wasn’t anxious to see another casualty. Didn’t matter if she did think Brill was a major pain in the ass.

  She continued to watch the door after a glance at her watch. Where in the world was Colin Jernigan? The president was due to arrive any minute, and here Natalie sat surrounded by three empty chairs.

  117

  Jason Brill proudly held the chair out for Senator Shirley Malone at her place next to the podium, the place that would have been Senator John Quincy Allen’s. She would be replacing him tonight in more ways than simply on the program.

  She had told Jason no one would dare to question his being here, especially if he arrived as her escort. And she was right. No one did, though he felt their eyes like darts in his back. Even Lindy couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. He wanted to tell her that although she didn’t believe in him, someone else did.

  Ea
rlier in Senator Malone’s hotel room he had come clean, confessed everything he knew and, more importantly, everything he did not know. He had been convinced that Senator John Quincy Allen was powerful enough to make him take the blame for Zach Kensor’s murder. Almost every visible connection Senator Allen had with Zach, Jason had either arranged, made payment for or scheduled. And perception was everything in Washington. Jason really did believe he was screwed.

  But Senator Malone simply told him, “The truth can be a powerful weapon.”

  Now, as Jason watched William Sidel take the podium, he wasn’t so sure that was true. Sidel was still here, untouched, unscathed and stronger than ever, surrounded by those who had invested, lobbied, promoted and trusted him. There was something wrong with that, Jason thought, as he took his place.

  118

  Abda paid close attention. Mr. Reid had introduced William Sidel, the head of EchoEnergy. He would be the one introducing the President of the United States.

  Abda’s fingers found the small prescription bottle in his jacket pocket. He had practiced over and over again, so that no one could possibly notice. He rolled the lid off with little trouble. He found the capsule easily and gently pinched it between his fingertips.

  He caught Khaled watching him from the corner where he also waited with a tray.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Sidel was saying, “I have the privilege to introduce with great pride our President of the United States of America.”

  The banquet hall resounded with applause. Chairs skidded out as guests rose to their feet. No one was even looking Abda’s way and he used the distraction to take out the capsule. It was difficult to see the man they were applauding. Abda had little time. He craned his neck and twisted his body to get a glimpse between the applauding bodies.