Shadows and Lies

by Ronald Watkins

  "I'm not here to judge. I just need to know more. How long have you been seeing Marei?"

  "I guess two years or so,” he briefly paused ensuring the estimate, “about that."

  "How did you meet?"

  "At a diplomatic cocktail party. I used to go to those when I was first elected. It was at one of the smaller embassies, I'm not certain which. She was there with her father. He's quite a gentleman. Lives in Manhattan. We started seeing each other after that."

  "She's a flight attendant?"

  "Yes. Air France. Her schedule's a bit irregular, but then so's mine."

  "Where did you meet with her?"

  Tufts cleared his throat and shifted himself slightly. "At her place primarily. She lives alone in a Georgetown apartment."

  "How could you manage that? You've got a security detail, you're well known. Didn't people see you going in and out? Weren't there questions?"

  "We were careful, healthily paranoid I’d say. I always went late at night. Discreet agents would radio when the hallway was clear. One of my staff drove me in his car." He glanced up sheepishly. The modulated Yale tones had slowly slipped out of his speech. "I'd lay down in the back seat so as not to be spotted. I'd wait outside the back entrance then when we got the word I'd go straight to her apartment. It was only a few feet. I'd wear a hat and overcoat. No one ever saw me."

  "What is she like? As a person, I mean."

  "She's quite beautiful. Not yet 30 years old, I'd say. Great body. She speaks with a wonderful French accent. She's from there originally. I don't know how to describe her. She's soft spoken. Attentive. I don't know what you're after."

  "Is she loyal?"

  "Absolutely. She's kept her mouth shut for over two years. That's why I find this so... perplexing. She's not the kind to blackmail or threaten exposure. She believes in me, believes in what I'm trying to do for this country, for the world. She's absolutely trustworthy. I know! And she's not hurting for money. She does okay with her job, but her folks are rich and generous with her. She's gonna make out all right. That's another reason she wouldn't do anything like this. Her father's business would suffer from the adverse publicity. I told Becky that someone must be putting her up to it and she went nuts on me. I know it will make matters worse if it's the case, but the God's truth is I just can't see Julie doing this. It's impossible."

  "Did you know she was videotaping you?"

  Tufts was crestfallen. "No, I never... I still can't believe it. There was never any camera in the apartment. You've got to believe me on this. I wouldn't ever do something like that. I'd be courting disaster. It had to be hidden somehow."

  "That suggests she was not as loyal as you think. Unless someone was taping without her knowledge and that seems unlikely, at least for now. The crucial question is: Why is she doing this?"

  "I... I really can't say."

  "According to Becky the note said she has more tapes. That suggests a pattern. On the surface it appears you misjudged her."

  "I guess so. I just..."

  "When I make this deal, will she keep it? Can I be certain she hasn't copied these tapes?"

  "I should think so. You understand none of this is making any sense to me? Julie isn't the kind to do something like this. Really. I think if I just talked to her I could get to the bottom of it."

  "That wouldn't be a very good idea."

  Tufts made a face. "That's what Becky said." A telephone chirped and the President lifted the receiver. "Yes. Uh-huh. I understand. I'll be right in." He stared at Powers. "I've really got to go. They're waiting on me. These aren't the kind of people to keep on tenterhooks." He rose, buttoning his jacket. "You know, Danny, you can do something for me here if you will." Tufts turned sheepish again but there was passion in his voice. "Julie is something else, you know? There's been some kind of mix up. That's all I can figure out. When you see her later, you tell her no hard feelings, okay? You get this worked out for me. If she’s short of money and can't go to her folks, I can help out. She should have just talked to me about it. This isn't what it appears. You have to believe that, Danny. I know I can trust this woman. Find out what's going on. Get it worked out. Tell her I'm upset she contacted my wife but if she'll be good from now on I can handle that. We'll go back to how it was, okay?" He was quite insistent. What Powers had first taken as lust seemed now more like longing. Then Tufts’ manner changed abruptly to one of schemer. "You just work this out for me," he said winking, "and you'll have one grateful President on your side. Just think about it."

  Before opening the door the President hesitated then turned to Powers as if an afterthought had occurred to him. There was no expression of concern on his face now, no comradery. The look he gave was quite different. "I wouldn't mention this part of our little talk to Becky. You understand?" There was nothing nice about Tufts now. Not one damn thing.

  The White House, 8:07 p.m.

  A woman in her early thirties, petite, wearing heavy plastic framed glasses and dressed in the most conservatively cut business suit Powers had ever seen entered the Oval Office the moment the President was gone. Her eyes were green, the shade of fresh cut rye. "Mr. Powers?" she asked in the carefully modulated voice of someone who had worked hard to rid themselves of an accent. "This way please. The First Lady is waiting."

  This time he was taken from the West Wing where the business of the Presidency took place along a glass enclosed walkway to the White House. The manpower used for security was virtually invisible Powers noted.

  "I'm Alta Fort," the woman said quietly as they walked. "I'm Mrs. Tufts' personal assistant. In case she forgot to mention it, I'm the one who received the communication from Miss Marei. I passed it along for her decision."

  Despite his initial impression the woman was not unattractive, Powers realized. Her features were regular enough and set in a pleasant oval face. But she had done absolutely nothing to advance her appearance. Even her thick, dark hair was cut nondescript as if it were an afterthought. He could detect no makeup or lipstick though he suspected there was a trace. Her most interesting feature was a small fleshy mouth shaped like a bow. She was one of those women, he suspected, who was oblivious to her feminine side. All business. She dressed and conducted herself to make that clear.

  "When did it arrive?" he asked.

  "This morning. About nine o'clock."

  Powers had received the call from Becky shortly before noon. That would have been eleven in Washington. "Did you view the tape?"

  Alta grimaced. "Unfortunately yes. Very distasteful. I don't know how Mrs. Tufts bore up under it. A lesser woman would have been crushed seeing something like that."

  "It's as damaging as she says?"

  "If anything I suspect her pride has caused her to understate it."

  In the White House she led him to the second floor then to the private quarters of the First Couple. "How long have you been with Becky?" Powers asked.

  "Over ten years. She hired me as her secretary when her husband was governor. I've been with her ever since. This is her drawing room. I'll be waiting to speak after you two are finished."

  ~

  Becky had changed into informal clothes and the effect was to drop a decade from her appearance. She wore soft chocolate colored gabardine pants cut in a man's style, an off white silk blouse and a strand of pearls. Her hair was pulled back and tied with a crimson ribbon that reminded him of when she was a teenager. She had recently applied perfume so subtle she was nearly on him before he detected it. The room itself, like her office, was entirely feminine.

  "Welcome to the inner sanctum. Not many get this far into the labyrinth. How did it go with my husband?"

  "It was like playing solitaire."

  "I know the feeling. Was he truthful, do you think?"

  "Not much."

  "That's not new. Thanks for your candor."

  "I'm doing this for you. Not him."

  She softened. "I knew I could count on you." It was almost a whisper. She moved towards the bar. "Do
you need anything?"

  "Water is fine."

  As she poured him a glass and herself a scotch she said, "You remember Daddy, don't you?"

  "Sure. No public event in Shalom was complete without an award presentation by Malcolm Gordon of Gordon Forest Products."

  "You never knew him in private?" She handed him his glass and for an instant the tips of their fingers touched.

  "No. I didn't move in your circles."

  She eyed him speculatively. "I never considered that before. It's hard to imagine Shalom having social ‘circles,’ but I guess you’re right. It's the same everywhere. Well, he started me on watered scotch when I was 12 years old. Just a small glass. We'd sit in his library and he'd tell me about men, what they were like, what they were really after, despite their words."

  Powers smiled lightly. "And what, pray tell, was that?"

  Becky raised both eyebrows in humor. "You know. Sex. The glasses of scotch got bigger and finally there was no water. He wanted me to be able to drink like a man. 'No one's ever gonna take advantage of my little girl,' he'd say. Anyway, when I poured the drink that came to mind. I think a lot about daddy these days for some reason.” She took a swallow of her drink. “You need to get going. Does this sound doable to you?"

  "In theory. If all she wants is money and you have it, that seems simple enough."

  "Why wouldn't it be simple?"

  "Maybe there's more going on here than there appears."

  She turned ashen. "Is that what you think?"

  "Not necessarily, though it's a possibility. But there's no reason to jump to conclusions. Assuming she's available to meet, this could go very quickly. With luck you'll sleep well tonight."

  Her smile glowed. "Thank you. Alta's going to be your contact from now on. We used our most secure entrance and you weren't entered there or in the White House log when you arrived. You'll have noticed we moved you around so no one's seen you except the men at the tunnel. That's not been difficult, what with the VP in Clearwater and nearly all of the staff on summer vacation or at the convention. Alta will explain details. You'll find that she's very good at that sort of thing. I may not get a chance to thank you in person when this is over, what with the convention and all. But you can expect to see me when I get the first opportunity." She embraced Powers warmly and he was acutely aware of her breasts. Becky’s single blue-grey eye, he saw, had momentarily turned azure. "You're a life saver," she whispered. "I only wish I could thank you properly right now."

  ~

  Alta Fort's small office was just off the Drawing Room. She lifted a brushed metallic briefcase onto her business-like desk and opened it. "It's one half million dollars, used bills, unmarked. You should see it for yourself so when you meet with Miss Marei you can assure her the money is ready. All she has to do is turn over the tapes to get it."

  Powers had seen a half million dollars in cash before. He'd once spent a rainy winter night in St. Louis on foot, frozen to the skin, carrying two million dollars in flash money from location to location for a drug deal that never took place. Signing the receipt for all that money, he told his wife the next day, was one of the most frightening acts of his life.

  "It might not work that way.”

  “What do you mean?" Alta asked suspiciously.

  "She'll probably insist on a simultaneous transfer. Don't be concerned. I've done it before in drug deals and will work it out."

  "I'll trust to you then." She placed the briefcase on the floor beside her then handed him a stuffed envelope, all business. "Five thousand for expenses and to reimburse you for your flight here and home. There's more if you require it. Don't write any checks, use a credit card or access an ATM. Take taxis or walk. Washington is very small. Always pay cash. Even if everything goes perfectly you'll need somewhere to sleep tonight. There's an apartment for you in Cleveland Park near Calvert and 24th Street, not far from the zoo. We use it occasionally for quiet meetings or guests who aren't officially in town. I’ll take you there later. Here." She handed Powers the smallest cellular telephone he had ever seen. "Keep that with you at all times. I have a matching one. Yours is programmed to call mine when you hit pound nine. Mine is set to call yours. No one has your number and you’re the only one who’ll call on mine. Understand?"

  "Yes. You're very cautious.”

  “I have to be. We're watched by more people than you could ever imagine. Obviously we'll not talk on the telephone unless absolutely necessary. Even then don't use your name or mine. I'd prefer you just say we have to meet. That's all. I'll tell you how long until I can get there. It will usually be just minutes. Oh, of course when you need the money just tell me to bring the package. Don't mention money for god sake." She unfolded a map of Washington and spread it on her desk then pointed. Her finger was slender but the nail had been bitten nearly to the quick. "We'll meet the first time here in West Potomac Park at the Tidal Basin on the walk between the cherry trees and Inlet Bridge. Next is the Lincoln Memorial, here on the Henry Bacon Drive side. And last the Washington Monument, facing the Sylvan Theatre. You aren't coming back to the White House so plan my meeting with you to transfer the money and pick up the tapes. You understand? Don't mark on the map. You can remember the meeting places, right?"

  "Of course."

  "If we have to see each other more than three times we just start over. All right?"

  "Fine."

  The small woman hesitated before continuing. “We can’t be certain that Miss Marei’s... association with the President isn’t suspected, even known, by others. It would be the exception in my experience here if it weren’t. The President is never as discreet as he claims and he’s a braggart by his nature. There may be people watching her.”

  “What kind of people?”

  Alta shrugged delicately. “Spooks. Our own intelligence types looking for an edge. Even a right-wing reporter out for scandal, not that they often have to make an effort in that regard. God only knows who’d be watching, especially since this Gulf situation. Ever since this morning it’s been giving me the shakes just thinking about it. You understand what I’m saying?”

  “You’re telling me to be careful.”

  She nodded once very slowly then handed Powers a three-by-five card with blocked letters and numbers. "There's Miss Marei's telephone number and her address. I don't think Mrs. Tufts could bear a single day more than necessary with this hanging over her head." Alta sat in the chair behind her desk and carefully studied him, head to foot. "Your suit is Brooks Brothers, right?"

  "Yes. You have a good eye." His wife had bought it three years before, for him to wear when testifying. "It's the only one I own."

  "It's perfect. You'll blend right in." She scrunched her eyes in concentration momentarily. "I can't think of anything else. I want to thank you for helping Mrs. Tufts. I'll admit that I was a bit skeptical when she mentioned your name. I offered to see to this myself but she convinced me that would be too dangerous. The personal assistant to the First Lady couldn't risk being caught at something like this. But you obviously know what you’re doing and she has confidence in you. So that makes me your friend."

  Alta fixed those green eyes on him and spoke with passion. "I'd do anything in the world for Mrs. Tufts. She's a genius, you know. The ablest, most caring person I've ever meet. The usual rules don't apply in her case. Given enough time she can make this country over. I intend to do what I can to make that possible. So while you are helping her, don't hesitate to ask me for anything. I know how Washington works. I can see to it that whatever you need to happen, happens. And if there is anything, absolutely anything you need or desire of me, just say the word."

  Powers was speechless for a moment. "I'm sure Becky appreciates your dedication."

  "That's not important. What is crucial is that you succeed. I'll show you the way out."

  Alta had nothing more to say as she led him to the rear of the White House then down stairs and into a long tunnel he estimated to be 200 yards, the same entrance he
had used earlier. It emerged in the basement of a 100 year old red brick house across H Street from the Decatur House.

  “Nixon had it secretly built during the Vietnam War. I heard he was convinced the hippies and dope smokers would storm the White House during an anti-war rally and the underground tunnel to the Old Executive Office Building was too well known.”

  “What’s the house used for?”

  “It was a funeral home for many years. Now it’s owned by a charity and is supposed to be undergoing remodeling. Someone told me that’s been the cover story for 20 years and no one’s asked yet.” On the ground floor she returned the light tan raincoat he had arrived with, carried over his arm. "You may need this the way the weather's gathering."

  She moved closely to him and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper though they were standing a fair distance from the two guards who had directed him down the hall earlier. "There's something you need to know. Mr. Tufts is obsessed with this woman. When I read the note it sounded to me more like a plea to end the relationship than anything else. I think that's what the threat of exposure is really about. Mr. Tufts has been incredibly indiscreet with this woman. I don't think he can imagine himself without her. I suppose it's something she does in bed for him. Anyway I don't think she's necessarily the only problem here. Despite everything, I believe he's going to keep seeing her if he can." She met his eyes. "I just thought you should know. I don't want you going into this blind. I'll be waiting to hear from you."

  At that moment she ran a moist pink tongue across those fleshy bow lips, in a gesture Powers took to be unconscious. The act, however, was entirely sensuous in its effect. "Let's hope this is wrapped up tonight," she said but he hardly heard her.