by Allan Topol
"Oh, he'll be here. He'll assume that I want to talk to him about my resignation and his appointment to replace me. He'll cancel anything to talk about that."
"We really appreciate your help, sir."
"Thanks, but I haven't done a thing yet. McDermott will be a tough nut to crack. We'll see what happens." A dark shadow crossed his face. "Unfortunately, though, going after McDermott may not be the hard part," Hall said solemnly. "What scares me is the possibility that the president could be mixed up in this as well."
* * *
Taylor had never seen anyone as surprised as McDermott when he walked into Chief Justice Hall's office and saw her and Cady. Hall was seated behind his large red leather-topped desk, looking stern and judicial. Taylor and Cady were sitting off to one side. An isolated chair in front of the Chief's desk was intended for the stunned McDermott.
"Take a good look around," Hall said in a raspy voice when McDermott was seated. "This will probably be the last time you'll be in these chambers."
McDermott was not one to back down from a challenge. "With all due respect, I don't think that's for you to decide. As I recall my constitutional law, the president is the one who will appoint the next chief justice, and the Senate confirms."
"But his name won't be McDermott. You can bet on that. You'll be publicly disgraced and almost certainly serving time in jail after what I've just learned from my two young friends here today about your role in the Boyd affair."
"Now, wait a minute," McDermott said in an indignant voice, "what kind of lies have these two been telling you?"
"Spare us the dramatics. They have a notebook Pug Thompson made, a copy of a check authorization of yours, and an affidavit from a California official who supervised the Napa land office. I've personally looked at all the evidence in the hope of finding it didn't prove what they told me, but it does. At a minimum, it proves you created false evidence against Senator Boyd." Hall's voice was cracking with emotion. "And that's at a minimum."
The A.G. wasn't cowed. "Let me see the so-called evidence."
Hall pointed to Cady, who handed it to McDermott.
As the attorney general examined it, all of the color drained from his face. Though he tried to maintain a righteous demeanor, to Hall, Cady, and Taylor he looked like a kid whose mother had caught him looking at pictures in a porn magazine.
At last the Chief said, "I want to know why you did this. I want to know the rest of your involvement in the Boyd affair." His tone was harsh and accusatory.
McDermott refused to be intimidated. "You can't address me like that. You've got no right to conduct an inquisition. Even for a chief justice, you're way out of line. I can get up and walk out right now. You can't stop me."
McDermott rose and started toward the door.
"Be my guest," Hall replied calmly. "You're free to go. But if you do, you should know that I'm planning to pick up the phone and tell the president everything." Those words alone were enough to stop McDermott on the spot. Sensing that McDermott was now in trouble, Hall continued: "I'll go to key figures across the street on the Hill. Taylor here is prepared to go to the press. You'll be publicly disgraced, and Cady will charge you with the murder of two people."
McDermott's head snapped around. "What two people? What are you talking about? I didn't have anything to do with anyone's murder."
Cady jumped in. "The case against you for conspiracy in the murders of Senator Boyd and Harvey Gladstone is solid. That'll get you murder one times two."
A look of bewilderment enveloped McDermott. Perspiration was running down his forehead. His lower lip was quivering. "I never had anything to do with anyone's murder," he said weakly, while raising his right hand. "Jesus, I didn't even know Harvey Gladstone was dead. I'll swear to that on a stack of Bibles."
"Which is worth about as much as Al Capone authenticating his own tax return," Cady said.
Oddly enough, as she listened, Taylor found herself believing that McDermott wasn't mixed up in the two murders. The thought of Alex Glass and his letter came to her. With him, there were actually three murders. Then she had a powerful realization: They had made an error thinking it had to be Sato or McDermott. Why not Sato and McDermott?
She moved toward McDermott and leaned her head forward as she did when she bored into a hostile witness. "Don't give us your lies," she said. "You met with Yahiro Sato in Buenos Aires on August twenty-eighth. We know that. You've been working with him. The two of you wanted the senator out of the election for your own separate reasons. You're the U.S. end of this conspiracy. You engineered the Boyd and Gladstone murders, using Pug Thompson or someone else."
McDermott pulled away from Taylor and sat down. He was trying to absorb everything he had heard. He pulled a small calendar out of his jacket pocket and checked it, rubbing his eyes to make sure they weren't deceiving him. A ray of hope began to appear, a way out of this nightmare. "You've got the wrong man," he said boldly.
"Yeah, right, and I'm Michael Jordan," Cady snapped back.
Realizing that he would never get anywhere with Cady, McDermott turned toward Hall. "I never met with Yahiro Sato in my life, and I wasn't in Buenos Aires on August twenty-eighth. On that date I was in Las Vegas, speaking before a conference of state law-enforcement officials. Five hundred people heard me in the morning, two hundred and fifty at dinner that evening." He pointed to the phone. "Call any state attorney general. They'll all back my story."
Cady reached for the phone and called Peter Dorsey, the Maryland state attorney general in Annapolis. Sure enough, he had seen McDermott. "Yes, thanks for the info," he told Dorsey.
As Cady put the phone down, he thought he knew exactly what had happened. "Okay, let's go back to square one," he told McDermott. "What you can't refute is the evidence of your involvement with Pug in connection with the Napa documents relating to the sale of Mill Valley."
McDermott looked down at the backs of his hands without responding.
"Since you didn't go to Buenos Aires," Cady continued, "you must be taking orders from the person who met with Sato in Buenos Aires on August twenty-eighth. Now tell us who that was."
McDermott realized that he now had leverage. "And if I give you what you want, you'll agree that I won't face any charges or suffer any adverse consequences for my minor involvement in all of this."
"Are you crazy?" Cady said. "You—"
The Chief cut him off. "Here's what I'm prepared to do. On your side, you tell us fully and honestly everything you know about this Senator Boyd business, and you agree never to accept a Supreme Court appointment. In return, we won't mention a word of your involvement to anybody. So you won't be charged criminally. You'll resign immediately as A.G. If the president gets reelected, you will respectfully decline any position in his new administration for personal reasons, as people always say. You'll be able to go back to private life with your honor and license to practice law intact." He saw McDermott's jaw working, as he waited for his turn. "That's the deal. It's more than generous. The only reason I'm offering it is because we have to know for the good of the country what happened. And we have to know before the election."
"It's a goddamned shakedown."
"It's a lot better than you deserve."
McDermott sat brooding for several minutes, staring at the carpet and pondering Hall's offer.
"Suppose I were to agree not to be chief justice. Could I at least be an associate justice on the court if Webster appoints me?"
The Chief scowled. "Forget it. We don't need people like you up here."
"But my whole life I've dreamed—"
"You have nobody to blame but yourself."
Hesitating, McDermott glanced over at Taylor and Cady, then back to a grim-looking Gerhard Hall. "I'll take it," he finally said.
"Good. Now, tell us everything you know about this mess. And if you lie, the deal is off."
McDermott took a deep breath and began talking. "One evening a couple of weeks ago—I can't remember exactly when—I
got a call at home from Philip Harrison. He—"
Taylor thought she had heard him wrong. "Who did you say?"
McDermott sneered at her. "Philip Harrison, sweetie. Your distinguished partner."
Taylor shot to her feet. With a wild look in her eyes, she pointed a finger at McDermott. "Philip had nothing to do with any of this. Don't you try to tarnish a good man's name to save your own vile skin."
McDermott chuckled. "Sorry, sweetie, Harrison—"
"And don't you call me that again."
Cady broke in. "Just tell us what happened."
"Well, anyhow, Harrison called and asked if I would meet him at a parking lot in Great Falls. He said it was urgent. So I went."
Taylor was still on her feet glaring at McDermott.
"At the meeting," McDermott continued, "Harrison told me that he knew certain embarrassing facts about my personal life. He even showed me some photographs to prove his point."
"What facts?" Taylor asked.
McDermott looked at the Chief. "That's irrelevant to the issue. Nobody needs to know."
Hall smiled. "Oh, c'mon. The fact that you have a second family in Florida is one of the most widely known secrets in this town."
McDermott seemed startled, but continued. "Harrison said he would tell my wife and the president, who don't know about this relationship. He threatened to leak it to the press unless I helped him." McDermott paused, cringing even now at the thought.
"What did he want you to do?" Cady asked.
"He told me that there would be an investigation of Senator Boyd relating to his sale of Mill Valley. He explained that it would begin with an anonymous package being dumped on a prosecutor's desk. Because he knew so much about it, my guess is that he or someone working for him actually placed that package on your desk."
Taylor balled her hands into fists, seething.
"What did he want you to do?" Cady repeated.
"He wanted me to have the records changed in the Napa tax office and to deliver the backup documents to him. He said that as attorney general I could find a way to roll over state officials and get that done."
"And you agreed to do it?"
"What choice did I have? So when I left the meeting, I called Pug. I told him to take care of it, and we talked about how. Also, I want you to know, Harrison's threat to expose my other family wasn't my only motive."
"Yeah. What else was there?"
"At this first meeting, I saw a sinister-looking figure lurking behind a tree. Harrison never said it, but I felt that man would harm me if I didn't do what Harrison wanted."
"Why did Harrison want Boyd out of the presidential race?"
McDermott said, "Hmph," and glowered at Taylor. "Why don't you ask your partner that, sweetie?"
She had hesitated to interrupt, but now that McDermott had directed his comment to her, she was ready for him. "You're lying through your teeth."
She was taking this too personally, Cady thought. She couldn't bear to think this Harrison had betrayed her. But Cady wanted to move on. "A minute ago you said this was your first meeting with Harrison. How many others were there?"
"Just one more. The night before you convened the grand jury, Harrison called me to come to the same place. He also asked me to bring the Napa backup records, which I did."
"Where are they now?"
"I gave them to Harrison. I have no idea what he did with them."
"What else happened at the second meeting?"
"He told me that your evidence was so strong that Boyd should be agreeable to a deal: He would offer to withdraw from the race in return for immunity from prosecution. He said that you would probably oppose it, but I should force you to accept it."
"Did you agree to do that?"
"Yeah, but Harrison's prediction proved to be wrong: Boyd never agreed to withdraw."
"Was the man lurking in the area again?" Cady asked.
"Yeah, but this time I had a very good, tough P.I., a former Chicago cop I've used before, follow me to the meeting. My guy was hiding in case anything happened. I told him about the man lurking behind a tree, and he was there again. Afterward my guy tailed this guy to the Capitol City Motel up on New York Avenue, room two-sixteen."
"Why'd you do that?"
"I wanted to get an edge on Harrison, a sort of insurance policy, that I could use if this business turned south, like it is now."
"Did you check the motel registration to get the man's name?"
"The P.I. did."
"And?"
"He's Japanese. His name is Terasawa. The P.I. said he has a large scar on his left cheek. That's—"
Cady interrupted him in midsentence. "Are you sure of that?" He remembered seeing a man parked in a Mercedes across the street from his house this morning—a Japanese man with a scar on his cheek. Jesus, he must have been the one who had planted the bomb in Taylor's apartment. He had found them.
"Uh-huh." McDermott gave a deep sigh. "That's all I know. You now have the full extent of my involvement in this."
"Haven't you forgotten something?" Taylor said.
"What's that?"
"How you arranged the Mississippi warrant for my arrest."
He looked puzzled. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You're lying again," Taylor said.
"Why would I lie after everything I've already told you?"
"Then who arranged for my Mississippi arrest?"
"You'd better ask Harrison. He must have done that too, sweetie."
She was outraged. "You don't expect us to believe the bullshit story you just told us."
"Look, you can believe what you want, but Harrison betrayed you. I'll bet you were feeding him all your campaign info. He made a fool out of you."
Taylor's face was crimson with anger, and Cady rallied to her aid.
"Leave the personal attacks out of this," he said, sounding irritated. "Do you have any proof of what you've told us?"
A haughty smile filled McDermott's face. "I thought you'd never ask. I've got proof of everything."
Six eyes were staring at McDermott. "What kind of proof?" Hall asked.
"I recorded both of my conversations with Harrison without him knowing it."
"You're kidding," Cady said. "Why?"
"I'm an old gutter fighter from Illinois politics. I know how to protect myself. I wasn't going to take the rap and let Harrison skate."
"Where's the tape?" Hall asked.
"In a safe-deposit box in a bank out of town."
"I want it."
McDermott held up his hand. "If I give it to you, I want to be able to finish out my job as A.G. until the end of the president's current term. It's only a couple of months. Otherwise people will suspect something. My reputation will be tarnished."
Cady was about to say no when Hall raised his hand, cutting him off. "Okay, you can have that provided you agree to sign any extradition orders Cady wants for Sato or anyone else."
McDermott nodded.
Hall said, "How soon can you get us the tape?"
"I'll have it here tomorrow morning at ten."
Taylor waited until McDermott had gone before she exploded. "I can't believe that you two bought that lie." Her breath was coming in loud, short spurts. "All he's doing is trying to save his own skin, the scumbag," she shouted.
"Take it easy," Cady said.
"Don't tell me that. I hate it when anyone tells me that."
Hall looked at her with kindly eyes. "At this point, we're not accepting anything he said. Let's see what kind of tape he has."
"Ah, c'mon, tapes can be phony. You both know that. He controls the FBI. As long as they have a recording of McDermott's voice and one of Philip's from any speech he's given—and he's given plenty that have been recorded—the FBI lab can make a tape. They can make it sound authentic following any written script McDermott gives the technicians."
Hall looked at Cady. "Is she right?"
"I think so, but—"
"But nothing,"
Taylor protested. "That's the whole point."
"Tell you what," Cady said to Taylor. "It's a long time until tomorrow morning. Suppose you and I keep digging. See if there's anything else that'll tell us whether McDermott or Harrison is Sato's man in Washington."
"Good idea," she said. "I'll bet I can prove that McDermott was in this from the beginning, and that Philip wasn't in Buenos Aires on August twenty-eighth."
Cady looked at her sympathetically. "I hope with all my heart you can do that." Then he whipped out his cell phone.
"Who are you calling?" she asked.
"John Frazier, an FBI agent I used on my Russia case. I want him to go up to the Capitol City Motel, find this Terasawa, and arrest him. If he's not there, Frazier can stake out the place and begin searching for him around town. We've got a description and a name. We're going to find this guy and get him to tell us the name of his American contact."
When they hit the ground floor, Cady told Taylor, "You wait here inside the door. I'll get the car and pick you up."
Cady didn't want to alarm her any further by telling her that he had seen the man with the scar on his face parked across from his house that morning.
* * *
Terasawa had planned to take a short nap back in his motel room to harness his energy for what might be a long evening ahead. Yet he was too restless to sleep. He climbed out of bed and turned on the radio to see if there was any news about the discovery of the bomb in Taylor's apartment or anything else about the Boyd case.
As he listened to the radio, he walked over to the window and peeked through a crack between the brown vinyl curtains. The seedy motel had two floors, and access to all of the rooms was from the outside rather than from the lobby. A balcony ran the perimeter of the building on the second floor.
Terasawa spotted two cars in the parking lot below that hadn't been there before, one on the right of 216 at the far end of the parking lot, the other on the left. They were dark, late-model American cars without any markings. There was one man behind the wheel in each car.
The telephone rang. On the third ring Terasawa picked it up. Without waiting for him to speak, the caller hung up.
That was too much of a coincidence for Terasawa with the cars out front. Each of the drivers must have partners who were in the motel office, Terasawa decided. One of them had called to determine if he was in the room. That was all Terasawa needed to round out the picture.