“Not at all,” Ben said, as he gazed at the menu. The prices were not listed, which was never a good sign. “If I don’t eat this way often, it’s not by choice, it’s because… um, because…”
“Food allergies,” Christina said, bailing him out. “Has to be very careful or he gets heat flashes. Believe me, it’s a mess.”
Glancy smiled. “You shouldn’t have any problem here. The original owner set a standard for quality that has never been compromised. The four-star chef is probably the best in DC. Get this-the filets are dry-hung to age for four weeks before serving. Four weeks! And this is top-grade USDA-prime triple-plus beef. The best there is.”
Christina gazed at the menu. “Despite hailing from Oklahoma, I’m more of a fish person.”
“Of course you are.” Glancy flashed a quick smile. “Fish is brain food.” He reached across, brushing her hair with his hand, pointing at her menu. “Let me recommend the terrine of baby coho salmon with truffles and pistachios. It’s better than sex.”
“Really?”
“Well, no. But you know. It’s a thing people say.” He grinned again, the high-wattage smile that got him elected.
Was it Ben’s imagination, or did it seem as if everyone in this whole damn case was trying to hit on his partner?
“We should have brought Shandy,” Ben said, trying not to be too obvious.
“Oh, she’s been here before. And she pretends to enjoy it, for my sake. But she’s a girl of simple tastes at heart. A good girl, loyal. Not a dishonest bone in her body. But more the quarter-pounder type, if you know what I mean.”
“And Amanda?”
“Amanda gets off on work. It’s all she knows, all she loves. Spinning a PR disaster into a triumph, that’s her natural high. Nothing I could give her could ever compete with that.”
After they ordered, Glancy predictably wanted to discuss the case. “Don’t take this as criticism, Ben. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but-are we getting creamed?”
Ben took a long draw from his water crystal. “It’s much too soon to predict-”
“It’s slaughtersville, right?”
“Things always look bad when the prosecution is putting on their evidence,” Christina said.
“Naturally,” Ben added. “I mean, we knew they had a case. If they hadn’t, they never would’ve gone to trial. Not against you. We’re just going to have to tough it out until Padolino finishes.” He paused. “I am sorry about the trouble with your wife.”
“Marie?” Glancy waved his hand in the air. “Don’t worry about her. She gets it. She knows how the game is played.”
“She looked pretty upset…”
“Well, that’s the best way for her to play it, don’t you think?”
“I’m not quite sure I follow…”
“Then let me spell it out. If she didn’t cry or act distraught, people would say she’s a coldhearted bitch, Little Miss Iceberg, which is the stereotype every woman in politics has to fight against. If she acted as if she didn’t care what I did, it would suggest she didn’t care about me, which would lose her the support of the middle-American housewife-the stand-by-your-man crowd. And her being supposedly shocked about my affair isn’t going to do me any harm with the jury-this case isn’t about whether I slept with the girl, it’s about whether I killed her. No, I’d say Marie played it very smart.” He grabbed a roll and slathered it with butter. “Don’t worry about my Marie. She’s a smart woman. She’ll always be on top.” He blinked, then quickly turned to Christina. “I didn’t mean that in a sexual way.”
Ben grimaced. As if anyone thought he had-until he raised the suggestion. To Christina.
“And once Padolino has done his worst and rested,” Glancy continued. “Then what?”
Ben cleared his throat. “Then we put on our defense. Start turning the jurors’ minds around.”
“And how exactly do we do that?”
“My investigator, Loving, has been tracking the friends of Veronica Cooper. Last time I was able to talk to him, he thought he was onto something.”
“But he hasn’t been able to find them.”
“He found one-but she’s in the hospital, unconscious.”
“And that’s it?”
“Well, the main point we’ll be making is that the prosecution evidence really only shows that you and Ms. Cooper were, um, you know-” He coughed in his hand. “Involved.”
Glancy smiled at Ben’s discomfort. “That would be one way of putting it.”
“But they have precious little that suggests you committed the murder. Sure, Padolino’s created a motive for you. But he hasn’t proven Opportunity. In fact, just the opposite. One of his own witnesses said you were in a committee meeting at the time of the murder.”
“I’m sure the prosecutor has some way around that.”
“Even if he does, it won’t prove you murdered Veronica Cooper. What he has is entirely circumstantial.”
“As I recall, aren’t most murder convictions based upon circumstantial evidence?”
Ben fidgeted with his fork. It was harder to comfort a client who was so blisteringly smart. “True. Eyewitness testimony is rare-murderers don’t normally commit their crimes while third parties are watching. But these days, science has made forensic evidence the star of the show. And juries are actually listening. Thanks to TV shows like CSI, the parts of the trial that used to be the most boring and least persuasive have become what jurors give the greatest credence. And Padolino has precious little forensic evidence against you.”
“He can trace me and the corpse to my hideaway.”
“As far as I’m concerned, that cuts against him,” Christina opined. “I mean, after all, if you really were the murderer, would you leave the corpse in a place so obviously linked to you?”
“If I was desperate,” Glancy answered. “If I had no other choice-no time to find another hiding place. Which is undoubtedly what Padolino will say.”
“We can also put on character witnesses who will tell the jury that given your upright character you couldn’t commit possibly a murder.”
“After that video? You’ll never convince the jury I have any character. They think I’m capable of doing anything.”
“I think maybe you’re being a little-”
“No, I’m being a lot. But I have to be. My entire future is on the line.” He buttered his last piece of bread. “Sorry to be Mr. Funsucky, Ben, but I’m doing it for a reason. I suspect you’re not planning to put me on the witness stand.”
Ben and Christina exchanged glances. “There are obvious dangers in calling you. Especially after the video. With any public figure, there’s always plenty of grist for cross-ex character assassination.”
“I get that, but you have no choice. Moreover, I want you to put me on.”
Ben shook his head. “Todd, I’m not sure you appreciate how dangerous that is.”
“I can handle myself.”
“We’re not talking about a press conference. We’re not talking about reporters tossing out softball questions from which you can pick and choose. We’re talking about cross-examination by a very experienced, very determined attorney who will not give you any quarter.”
“I repeat: I can handle myself.”
“And there are other dangers,” Christina added. “Some forms of evidence the prosecution can only bring in if you take the stand. Prior bad acts or convictions. Propensity for truth telling. You don’t want to deal with that.”
“If it saves my career-not to mention my life-I do.”
“Senator, I know you’ve had a lot of experience here in Washington, but when it comes to the courtroom, you’d be wise to listen to Ben. He-”
Glancy held up his hand. “You don’t have to tell me about Ben. I know everything there is to know; I wouldn’t have chosen him to represent me if I didn’t.” Ben felt his face reddening-it was awkward being talked about as if he weren’t there. “I remember when he won the National Moot Court Championship back in law sch
ool, whipping all those private school butts for good ol’ OU. Brilliant argument, great command of the material. Hell, I remember seeing you at all those hideously boring debutante parties our parents forced us to attend back in Nichols Hills. I remember admiring you.”
“M-me?”
“Yeah. Because while I was off trying to be everyone’s friend and bed every girl on the list and making a fool of myself drinking Everclear tornadoes-you didn’t.”
Ben squinted. “And the point of this is-”
“I must be losing my touch. I thought I’d already made it.” He smiled pleasantly at the waiter, who had just arrived with the food. “The point is, when it comes to smart, you win hands down. I got no bones about that. But when it comes to understanding people, I’ve got the edge. Because while I was making a fool of myself getting to know people, how they think, what makes them tick, you were off by yourself being smart.”
Glancy inhaled deeply, absorbing the ravishing beef-and-pecan aroma arising from his plate. “Isn’t that magnificent? A perfect sensual experience-it almost spoils it to take a bite.” He picked up a fork and began to slice. “I will be testifying, Ben. Count on it.”
Loving masterfully maintained a straight face. “So you’re tellin’ me you use those big sharp fangs of yours to suck blood?”
“Yes,” Morticia answered, her voice gurgling with excitement. She rubbed her tummy with one hand. “’S yummy.”
“Like liquid energy,” Charles added, lisping slightly, no doubt due to the inch-long teeth protruding from the front of his mouth.
Loving shook his head. “I’m assumin’, even if you’re an Inheritor, that you weren’t born with those. Otherwise your mommy would’ve signed you up for some serious orthodontic work.”
“’Course not,” Morticia explained. “He had ’em filed.”
“And where do you find a dentist who would do somethin’ like that?”
“We’ve got connections. The Sire takes care of us.”
Loving’s chin rose. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned him. Who’s this Sire?”
“He’s the leader of the Inner Circle.”
“Did he get you a nice set of fangs, too?”
Morticia opened her mouth wide, smiled, and sure enough she had a more petite but still discernible pair of fangs. “The difference,” she said, mouth still open, “is that mine can be removed.” She reached up and snapped off her front row of teeth like a pair of fake fingernails. “Acrylic. Snap-ons. Cost me seventy-five bucks. But that’s a lot less than Charles paid. And I have the option of not wearing them to work-unlike him.”
“I work at home,” Charles explained, still lisping.
Just as well, Loving thought. “And you really drink blood?”
“With gusto. The commingling of bloodlines is the ultimate gratification, the sharing of life force. There is no greater stimulation than that derived from walking the narrow tightrope between pleasure and pain. Just thinking about it gets me-”
“Thanks for sharin’,” Loving said, cutting him off. “But I notice all your pals are gatherin’.” The rest of the Circle was congregating in the center of the room, hands joined, facing one another.
“Time for the Ceremony,” Morticia explained.
“And that is…?”
“You’ll see.”
“I can participate?”
“Sure. Open to all comers.”
And why was that? Did visitors become the human sacrifice? Loving was willing to do a great deal for Ben, but becoming a walking, talking blood bag for a coven of vampires was pushing it.
They finished their meals, which all three agreed were fabulous. Glancy assured Ben that the dinner was going on his running tab, which was a considerable relief, and Glancy was in the process of talking them into dessert (“The crème brûlée is like ambrosia in a baking dish, but I prefer the cheese plate, being a devoted turophile”) when they were visited by Brad Tidwell, the junior senator from Oklahoma.
Tidwell seemed genuinely surprised to see Glancy, even though Ben thought it was virtually impossible that anyone could’ve spotted them in this alcove if he hadn’t already known they were there. “Glad to see you were able to get out for a night, Todd. You know, we’re all rooting for you.”
“Oh, I rather doubt everyone is,” Glancy said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “But thank you.”
“I meant everyone from Oklahoma,” Tidwell corrected. “We Sooners stand by our own.”
“About that,” Glancy said. “I did notice that your name is on the prosecution’s witness list.”
“Doesn’t that beat all? I don’t know what the deal is.”
“I don’t, either,” Ben added. “And I interviewed you as soon as I saw the list.”
“I guess it’s because I’m on that committee with you, Todd. Did you know I have the best attendance record of anyone in the entire group?”
“Is that a fact,” Glancy said quietly.
Tidwell slapped his hand on Glancy’s shoulder. “I do wish you’d think about reconsidering your position on that Alaska bill, though. I know Melanfield’s an ass, but I think he’s right about this one.”
“It’s our last untouched wilderness area, Brad.”
“I know, but we’ve got to get ourselves out of the Middle East. It would be the best thing for the country.” He hesitated just the slightest second. “I think it would be the best thing for you, too.”
Glancy turned his head slowly. For a long, protracted moment, the two men stared into each other’s eyes.
“I can’t do that, Brad. The price is too high.”
Tidwell nodded slowly. “I’m sorry to hear that, Todd. I really am.”
Glancy did not reply.
“But no hard feelings, right?” Tidwell outstretched his hand. “You just remember that, no matter what happens, I’m behind you all the way, okay? You can count on the delegation from Oklahoma.” He shook Glancy’s hand vigorously, then strolled away.
Christina stared at them both, lips parted. “Did what I think just happened just happen?”
Glancy turned to her. “Now I understand why you’re such a good partner for my friend Ben. You get the subtext.”
“Subtext?” Ben said, turning from one to the other. “What are you two talking about?”
“Opportunity,” Glancy said. “I think I know now how that will be established.”
“And that handshake?” Ben asked. “That promise of support. That wasn’t a peace offering?”
Glancy shook his head gravely. “The Judas kiss.”
Not that Loving was looking for trouble. He really wasn’t. But when you’re hanging with vampires, and someone announces that the Ceremony is about to begin, you form certain expectations. Visions of kidnapped babies being drained. Vestal virgins thrown to the flames. Lucifer the Goat conjured from the netherworld.
Anything but this. Because this was nothing but a glorified AA meeting where all the attendees have the same bad fashion sense.
“I tried to talk to my parents,” a young man in a dark sweater said. “But they wouldn’t listen. They didn’t understand. They said-get this-‘Have you ever tried not being a vampire?’”
Several sympathetic hands were laid upon his shoulder.
“We feel your pain,” the others chanted together.
More likely they cause his pain, Loving thought. With their teeth.
Daily whispered into Loving’s ear. “How much more of this are we going to endure? I’ve talked to everyone in the room. None of them knows a Beatrice.”
“Did you learn anythin’ about the girls that disappear? The ones the Sire’s minions select for the Inner Circle?”
“No one seems to know much about that.”
Loving grunted. He was equally stymied. He hated to give up on a promising lead, but this was getting them nowhere. “Amber’s last words before she fell unconscious-”
“She was out of her head. Probably didn’t know what she was saying.”
Another member of the Circle was speaking. “And then she threw the engagement ring back at me, screaming, ‘You said you were going to be a lawyer!’ And I told her, ‘I can still be a lawyer, honey. I’ll just have to stick to night court.’”
“Okay, let’s get outta here.” Loving headed out, but to his surprise Morticia left the group and ran in front of him just as he passed through the outer door, blocking his way.
“You can’t just leave. I told you. We’re destined to be together.” She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. “Just let me take a little nip. You won’t be disappointed. I promise you.” Once again she was all over him, her heaving bosom pressed against his ample chest. “It would be an experience you’d never forget.”
“That I don’t doubt. But-”
“Give it up, you gorgeous infidel.” All at once, she lurched forward, placed her acrylic teeth against his neck, and bit down hard.
Loving pulled away. “Stop that!”
“Why? Afraid you might like it?” She wiped her mouth dry. “You shouldn’t withdraw prematurely. Haven’t you heard? Women don’t like that.”
“Be seein’ you.” Loving started for the door, tugging Daily as he went.
“You know you want it. Deep down,” Morticia called after him. “You’ll come back. Wait and see. I’ll still be here. When you’re ready.”
Loving ran down the front steps and breathed in the night air. Strong with carbon monoxide, but refreshing, just the same. It was a relief to be outside, away from that pack of nutcases.
Vampires. Jeez Louise. What next? It can’t possibly get any weirder than that…
A voice emerged from the darkness. “Freeze, or I’ll stake you where you stand, you unholy beasts.”
Loving and Daily both pivoted at once. There was a woman standing behind them, emerging from the shadows of a side alley. She was young, slender but sturdy. She had long blond hair and a tanned complexion. Her eyes were fixed intently upon her targets.
She was holding a crossbow. Not a gun. A crossbow.
“Now you’re going to do exactly what I say,” she said, moving forward but never blinking, never moving her finger from the trigger. “And if either of you so much as takes a baby step toward me, you’ll get a bolt through your undead heart.”
Capitol Murder Page 20