Shadow Account

by Stephen Frey

  He thought about Brenda again. Of how impressed she’d been by his career—and how disappointed she’d be by the truth. The hell with it. No risk, no reward.

  “Have something to drink, Franklin.”

  “No. I don’t care for anything.”

  Lucas had seen Bennett’s posture stiffen at the sound of his given name. No one in the West Wing ever called him that. Not even the president. “Hot out here, isn’t it, Franklin?” At least he’d gotten the bastard’s attention.

  “Yes,” Bennett answered deliberately.

  “But peaceful, too.”

  “What do you want, Lucas?”

  “I have a matter of grave importance to report.”

  “Yes?”

  Lucas took a deep breath. Conviction. Keep your conviction. “Before I discuss it, I have questions.”

  “You what?”

  “I have questions.” When was the last time anyone had done anything like this to Bennett? he wondered. “Questions,” Lucas repeated firmly.

  “What questions?” Bennett demanded.

  The moment of truth had arrived. Would he or wouldn’t he? He could still back off. He hadn’t yet passed the point of no return. “Why did you really want me to research the jewels?” Lucas asked. And there it was. Just that quickly he was in as deep as he could get. “What was your real motivation?”

  “Motivation?” Bennett raised both eyebrows so they arched halfway up his forehead.

  Bennett probably knew about Lucas’s genius level intelligence quotient, and the summa cum laude graduation from Northwestern. It might even have crossed his mind that there was a remote possibility Lucas could have suspicions about the operation’s real objective. But Bennett never would have guessed that a 140-pound weakling who would have failed the first day of basic training at Parris Island would actually confront him.

  “Yes.” Now that Lucas was committed, he was thinking with surprising clarity. The cotton balls that had stuffed his mouth moments ago had dissolved like cotton candy. “Why did you have me research the jewels?”

  Bennett folded his arms tightly across his chest. “We’ve been through all of this many times. I need to know if the men closest to the president have any skeletons so I can keep the bones locked in the closet until after the election. I don’t understand why we’re going through this again, Lucas. If you didn’t fully understand the order when we started, you should have told me.”

  “I understood,” Lucas assured Bennett, “but I believe you have another agenda.” He was proud of himself. The words had come out calmly, even laced with a hint of his own irritation.

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” Veins in Bennett’s forehead rose to the surface, creating a roadmap stretching from one temple to the other. “What’s going on here? I tasked you with a mission of vital importance to the party. I trusted you. Now, what have you found, my little friend?”

  Lucas had prepared himself for the onslaught. It was just like those chess matches. Bennett was trying to end the conflict quickly with a massive frontal assault, but he was leaving his flank open. It was so predictable. “I’ve uncovered several important pieces of information, Franklin. One of those pieces of information would be very damaging to the president if it ever got out. It’s that serious. But I want to know the truth before I tell you more.” Lucas paused. “So, what is your real agenda?”

  Bennett smiled defiantly. “What do you think it is? What’s your little conspiracy fantasy?”

  “I think you’re more interested in using what I’ve foundagainst the president,” Lucas answered, closely watching the other man’s expression as he dropped the bomb, “than suppressing it.”

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  “Am I?”

  “Lucas, I order you to turn over everything you have on the jewels,” Bennett demanded. “Members of my team will escort you back to Georgetown, and youwill give it to them. Do you understand?”

  This was going to be easier than Lucas had anticipated. Despite his position of power, Bennett wasn’t all that intelligent. He was nothing but a bully, and Lucas had lots of experience dealing with bullies.

  “Wipe that smirk off your face, boy,” Bennett snapped, standing up. “I’ll have my associates meet you at the Beltway and Route 50, then go with you to Georgetown.”

  “Why don’t you just have them go to Georgetown without me?” Lucas asked. “You have the combinations to the apartment’s door and wall safe. You don’t need me around.” He paused, watching horses graze in the lush green fields. “What you need to understand, Franklin, is that I’m not here to make trouble.”

  “You could have fooled me,” Bennett snapped.

  “I’m here because I’m loyal to the party,” Lucas continued, making certain his voice was strong. “Not necessarily to the president.” He hesitated. “I’ll give you what you want, but I want things in return.”

  Bennett sank slowly back onto the wicker chair.

  “I know the details of Project Trust, Franklin,” Lucas continued. “I know what the president will propose. I also know that you’re in the dark about it. That you’ve been kept out of the loop. On purpose.” Lucas saw that he’d struck a chord. Bennett was transfixed. “I’ll give you some broad strokes, Franklin. But that’s all I’m willing to tell you right now.”

  Bennett nodded, lips pursed.

  Thank God for Harry Kaplan.

  “The president will create a commission from hell to oversee Wall Street and cut investment banking compensation to the bone. They’ll have a license to kill, and they’ll be paid extremely well. So they won’t be vulnerable to blue-blood bribery.” Kaplan had relayed additional details concerning Project Trust during another clandestine meeting in the woods near the Iwo Jima Memorial late last night. “The president is going to shove accounting regulations so far up corporate asses that CEOs won’t be able to take five dollars from petty cash without getting written permission from the SEC. But here’s the real red hot poker. The president is going to propose raising the federal tax rate on all earnings over a million dollars toseventy-five percent .”

  Bennett’s mouth fell slowly open.

  “He’s going to propose a wealth tax, too,” Lucas continued. This was another piece of new information Kaplan had relayed last night. “Anyone with a net worth over ten million dollars will have to pay the federal government five percent of the amount over ten million every year.”

  Bennett gazed at Lucas, as though he were hypnotized. “How do you know all this?” he finally whispered.

  Bennett was ready to fall. One more volley and this thing would be over. “The president is dealing only with the deputy chief of staff on Project Trust. And Roscoe Burns has ordered the few people on his staff who know what’s going on to tell you nothing. I have a connection on Burns’s staff who’s on the inside.” Lucas had just put Harry Kaplan in terrible danger because Bennett might figure out the connection. But this was the big leagues and this was the play. Kaplan knew the risks involved by relaying this kind of information. “I can only infer from the gag order that the president doesn’t trust you, Franklin. That the president is working solely with the deputy chief on Project Trust because he doesn’t think you would support him. In fact, he fears thatmany people inside his party wouldn’t support him. That even though he’s the leader of the party, the money men behind the scenes would turn against him if they knew what he was planning. He knows you have close ties to the money, but that Burns is completely removed from that. That’s why he’s working with Burns on this, and he’s shut you out. More than anything he wants to be reelected. He’ll sacrifice all else to have that happen.

  “He’s keeping his plans quiet so you can’t anticipate,” Lucas continued. “So you can’t throw up roadblocks and put together coalitions on the Hill to block him. So once he makes the details of Project Trust public, it’s a done deal. So that when he ends his speech with ‘God bless the United States of America,’ the Project Trust train will have al
ready left the station and there won’t be any stopping it. The press will jump all over his proposals, and he’ll be a hero to the masses. No one will be able to get in his way at that point.

  “The president believes most people in this country want to see investment bankers, corporate executives, and the rest of the rich get screwed. He thinks he’ll get the undecided vote with his proposals, and he’s adding a little extra incentive to make sure. He’scutting tax rates for the middle and lower classes.

  “He thinks the election may ultimately turn into a landslide, and he’s probably right. People vote with their wallets. We all know that. He’ll have to follow through on Project Trust, but so what? He’ll win four more years in the Oval Office and that’s all he cares about. He’ll worry about the implications of his actions later.

  “So what do you do, Franklin? You haven’t been able to uncover the details of Project Trust, but you and a few other senior level officials inside the party anticipate that this thing is going to be bad. Very bad. The president is going to make his speech soon, and then he’s in the driver’s seat.” Lucas smiled. “But there’s one thing the president hasn’t anticipated. Theextent to which you and the other higher-ups in the party will go. The president figures once he’s made his speech, he’s in. All he’s got to do is keep the train on the tracks. But you and the others see the window of opportunity as ninety days. Until the election. Like Yogi said, ‘It ain’t over till it’s over.’ You’re not going to give up until the election is actually in the books. You see a way to use Project Trustagainst the president. How? Simple. Dig up something nasty on one of his handpicked boys and show the country he’s guilty of exactly what Project Trust is trying to fight. Make it look like the president’s promises are empty. Which will be a cakewalk if you can show that one of his boys is a thief. That would prove to the American people he isn’t going to follow up on what he’s proposed because he and his guys have benefited from exactly the kind of old boy network, backroom dealings Project Trust is supposed to stop.” Lucas took a breath. “Which is where I come in. I have what you need.”

  Lucas’s hands were shaking. But not with fear. With elation. He’d finally figured out the key to life. Confidence. Belief in self.

  “What have you found?” Bennett asked, his voice barely audible.

  Lucas thought about the marble notebook. He hadn’t brought it with him today, but it was in a safe place. It was the first time in as long as he could remember, not having the book physically within his reach, and, he missed it like it was an old friend. But he couldn’t risk losing his leverage if Bennett were able to physically take it from him.

  On the blue-lined pages between the marble covers Lucas had recorded everything in copious detail. Cheetah’s suggestions about the operation’s true objective; Harry Kaplan’s information about Project Trust; specifics related to the 550,000 in-the-money Global Component options granted to Secretary Bryson and the AB Trust; the indisputable connection between Bryson and the AB Trust that involved fourteen financial institutions on four continents; a description of Secretary Bryson’s sexual harassment lawsuit; party financing particulars—including specific bank account and wire transfer numbers—related to Sam Macarthur and his private consulting firm; Franklin Bennett’s involvement in the operation; and much more.

  There was still the matter of verifying Bryson’s quid pro quo for receiving the options, but Bennett didn’t know that. Besides, Lucas knew exactly where to go to get that verification. But he wasn’t going to do it until the deal was set.

  “What do you have, Lucas?” Bennett repeated.

  Bennett’s tone wasn’t one of anger, Lucas realized. It was more one of resignation. “Wait a minute.” His hands were still shaking. He was close, but now he had to be so careful. He removed the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and turned away so Bennett wouldn’t see how difficult it was for him to light up. He didn’t care if Bennett knew he needed a crutch at this point. He’d found his conviction. But he didn’t want the man to see his hands shake. He inhaled deeply, then turned back toward the chief of staff. “What intrigued me about the assignment was that I knew how close you are to Sheldon Gray and Walter Deagan,” he said, already settling down, thanks to the tobacco. “If I had found something on either of them, you would definitely have kept the information hidden, if at all possible.” Another puff of the cigarette. “Let me assure you what I found has nothing to do with Gray or Deagan.”

  Lucas saw relief in Bennett’s expression. Which told him the bastard might even have sold his friends down the river if there were no other choice.

  “Who does it involve?” Bennett asked, barely able to keep his temper under control.

  “That’s all I’ll tell you at this point.”

  “Lucas, I swear to you I will—”

  “And I want to make you aware that I’ve put together an information book detailing everything.” He stopped and pointed at Bennett with the cigarette. “Including information about how the party uses Sam Macarthur as a financing source for its ‘special’ projects. I’m sure there are those in the Justice Department sympathetic to the other party who would have a great deal of interest in that kind of information. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you, Franklin?”

  “You’ll never work again!” Bennett shouted. “You’ll never get a loan or a credit card. You won’t be able to open a checking account. I swear to God!”

  “I told you,” Lucas said calmly, “I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m here to get something. It’s horse trading, plain and simple.”

  “What, what?What do you want? ” Bennett stammered, clenching his fists, his eyes bulging.

  “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

  “Out with it, Lucas!”

  Lucas nodded. “Okay, here goes. I want to be a member of the club, or whatever it is you ‘haves’ call it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The usual stuff. After we take the president down, I want use of the private jets and the vacation homes. I want money wired to me in financial black holes like Antigua. Just a couple hundred grand now and then. It’s a rounding error for a guy like Macarthur, but it’s the world for me. And, if I can engineer what you want, it’s a bargain.” He looked around. “I want access to places like this.” The sweeping gesture Lucas made with his hand left a smoke trail from the tip of his cigarette. “You can do that for me, Franklin, can’t you?”

  Bennett remained quiet for a long time. “Yes,” he finally admitted, “I can.”

  Lucas took another puff off the cigarette. “I was right, wasn’t I?” he asked. “You wanted information on one of the jewels todestroy the president, not to help him.” He watched, careful not to blink. Careful not to miss the reaction.

  Bennett nodded.

  Almost imperceptibly, Lucas thought to himself. Now things were going to get interesting. “All right, Franklin, let’s talk about next steps.”

  When Lucas was gone Bennett put his head back and closed his eyes. He was getting too old for this. He’d fought off cancer twice, but he had no confidence in his ability to win a third war. Maybe it was time to enjoy what the party could do for him. Time to retire to the ranch one of the party’s money men owned in southwestern Montana and live out his days fly-fishing for trout in the Beaverhead and Big Hole rivers.

  They’d played Lucas in chess anonymously on the Internet several times prior to initiating the operation to help them develop a profile. He was a brilliant strategist with a deliberate temperament who would wait out the thawing of an ice age if that was what it took to win. A man who would find something if there was something to find, but was unlikely toever question orders. Particularly in situations where he was not intimately familiar with the rules of the game, and situations involving high-level superiors he did not know well. That was the report’s profile.

  It had turned out to be nothing but psychobabble bullshit. At least, that was Bennett’s analysis. Lucas had turned out to be as cunning a po
litical operative as Bennett had ever run into. A man who was willing to make up his own rules.

  Bennett’s eyes narrowed. Financial black hole. One of Cheetah’s favorite phrases. Perhaps Lucas had gotten help being so cunning.

  He heard footsteps coming down the main stairs. He straightened up and opened his eyes.

  “Hello, Franklin.”

  Bennett watched as the other man eased into the chair Lucas had occupied. “Hello, Sam,” he said quietly.

  Sam Macarthur was the blond-haired, blue-eyed, forty-two-year-old son of a Kansas wheat farmer. He’d hit it big in the late nineties with a string of dot-coms. During that time he’d pocketed over a billion dollars founding three Internet retail companies selling everything from groceries to used cars, then taking them public. All three had ultimately gone bankrupt, but that hadn’t mattered to Macarthur. Wall Street had gotten him his money and he was long gone by the time the companies collapsed.

  Three years ago, Macarthur had come knocking on the party’s door, explaining to Bennett that he simply wanted to get involved now that he had money and could do good things.

  Bennett’s analysis of Macarthur’s motive was very different. Bennett believed Macarthur’s real agenda was to learn the political game from the inside because he wanted to run for office. Bennett believed that once Macarthur had learned the game and made high-level contacts in Washington, the young man would campaign for Congress or the Senate. As long as he threw money at a couple of hospitals and schools, people would forget how he’d taken the public markets to the cleaners three times. Bennett also believed that Macarthur’s ultimate goal was to be president. He’d known enough megalomaniacs to recognize the signs. The thing was, Macarthur could probably do it. He had Kennedy-like charisma, and everyone saw it.

  Bennett had been brutally candid with Macarthur. There would be a price to learning the game and having access to party members who mattered. People who could pave his way to the Capitol, then the White House. Macarthur would set up a legitimate consulting business in New York, then funnel dollars out of the company to fund special projects for the party. And he’d make all of his toys available to certain nonelected senior party officials. His planes, boats, and homes.