by Allan Topol
Jasper sucked in his breath. “And if I tell you, just assuming that I do have something that would satisfy you … then how do I know you won’t go to my wife and the papers anyway? All I’ll be doing is giving you rope to hang me.”
“To continue your metaphor, it doesn’t take much rope to hang a man, and I already have plenty. So a little more won’t matter.”
Jasper’s mouth hung open as if frozen.
While the Senator pondered this, a young waitress came over, placed two glasses of water on the table, and held out menus. “Would you like to look at these now?”
Allison wanted her away fast. “Pick your best fish dish. Bring two of them with ice tea.”
Jasper looked beaten. “What do you want to know?”
“What happened Sunday evening?”
“Your sister was a wonderful woman. We were having a terrific weekend …”
“No, no, not now. I don’t want to hear any of that.” Her voice was quavering. “Sunday night, what happened? And the truth. No more idiotic stories.”
“Okay. Okay. We were having a blast, living it up in a private villa on the beach.”
“You weren’t staying on a boat?”
“No, I hate those things. We had a great dinner Sunday evening at a place along the water. Then we went back to the villa. We stretched out on some chairs on the beach, sipping wine. She’d concealed a joint in her purse. She smoked that.”
“What about you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t do that.”
“Oh I see. You’re a boy scout. An adulterous boy scout.”
“Anyhow, she said, ‘It’s time for a swim.’ That was insane. With all the drinking we had done. And then the pot. I told her that. She laughed. Said ‘you sound like my sister, Allison. Always worrying about me.’ She stood up and pointed out to the sea. ‘Look how calm it is. There’s nothing to worry about. Come in with me,’ she said. ‘C’mon Wes.’ But I refused. ‘You’re an over–the-hill creep,’ she said. She pulled off her clothes and ran into the water. When it was up to her waist, she dove in and began swimming out. I watched her, following her bobbing head getting smaller and smaller, hard to see even with the moonlight. I thought I heard a noise, but I couldn’t see a thing. I got up and looked around. Nothing there. Must have been a dog, I decided.
“Then I looked back toward the water.” His voice dropped to a frightened whisper. “At first I couldn’t see her. Then I did. Little sticks, must’ve been her arms waving wildly. Her head, I could see it, then I couldn’t, then I could. A faint shriek. ‘Help me … help me.’
“I peeled off my shirt and pants and ran into the water. In college I’d been a lifeguard at a resort during summers. ‘I’m coming,’ I shouted. ‘Just hold on. I’m coming.’ I swam as fast as I could, but it was tough going, even with the current pulling away from the shore. Remember I’d had a lot to eat and drink. I focused on her head bobbing up and down and moved on a straight line toward her.
“I thought I was only a couple of yards away, but suddenly I couldn’t see her. Her head must have gone under. And this time it didn’t come up. I dove down, swam madly to where I’d last seen her, found her, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her up, choking and gagging. I turned her onto her back. With one arm around her chest, I swam sidestroke, kicking hard as I damn well could, fighting the current back to shore. In the first couple of minutes, I couldn’t make much progress. My whole body inside and out hurt like hell. I thought I’d never make it back with her. For an instant, I thought of leaving her and trying to save myself. But I couldn’t do that.
“Finally, I could stand up. I placed her over my shoulder, face down, hoping she would start coughing. That water would come out of her mouth. But her body was totally limp. I plowed on through the sand with her over my shoulder.”
Allison’s teeth were clenched so hard her jaw ached.
“Once we reached dry beach, I placed her on her back and put my mouth over hers. Blew as hard as I could to force air into her lungs. All the while, praying, pleading silently. Don’t die on me. Oh please God, don’t let her die on me. Dammit, breathe. Please breathe. But it didn’t happen. She didn’t breathe. She didn’t move.
“Then I turned her head on the side hoping the damn sea water would trickle out, but nothing. Not even a drop. I punched down on her stomach. No response. I looked into her eyes. Not even a flicker of her eyelids.
“I felt her pulse. Nothing. He shook his head. “Believe me. I did everything I could.”
“What happened next?”
“I rolled away and fell exhausted on to my back, on the sand. I shut my eyes tight imagining that this last half-hour was all a terrible dream. A nightmare that would pass when I opened them. But I knew it wouldn’t. A naked dead woman, who wasn’t my wife, was lying there next to me.”
Oh, you poor philanderer, Allison thought. Was she supposed to feel sorry for him? “So what did you do?”
“Well, I couldn’t leave her on the beach. I picked her up and carried her up to the villa. Placed her down on a bed. Covered her body. Not her face.”
“And then?”
“A lot of pacing around trying to decide what to do, spinning out possible scenarios. Each one worse than the other. Then I started shivering despite the balmy air. Well, my life’s over, I thought. I’m fucked. Totally fucked! How could I ever have been so stupid? Why did I ever come here?”
“For some great sex,” Allison softly responded. “That’s why.”
Jasper ignored her and ranted on. “What the hell had I been thinking? To put my whole life on the line for this? ‘Idiot,’ I shouted out loud, pounding my hand against my forehead.
“Desperate, I decided to call the owner of the villa. I grabbed a cell phone and dialed him. He told me to come home. He’d take care of it.”
“So how’d my sister’s body end up on the beach in front of the hotel Corinthian?”
“I don’t know. I swear. I left her on that bed in the villa and took off … Ms. Boyd. I’m not a bad person. I did all I could.” Jasper began to sob. “He said he’d take care of it.”
“You miserable bastards—‘take care of it’—that’s my sister you were talking about. Not a dead fish that washed up on the beach. She was left to rot. Or be eaten by animals.”
The waitress came over with their food, set it down, and departed. Neither of them touched it.
Jasper said, “You may not believe this, but not an hour has gone by that I haven’t been haunted by that night. That I haven’t regretted running away. I’m not offering that as an excuse. Just an explanation.”
“The hell with that. I want to know who told you he’d ‘take care of it.’ Who left my sister’s body on the beach and created a bullshit story that she stayed alone at the Corinthian Hotel?”
“Ms. Boyd, I told you everything I know. Isn’t that enough?”
“No, not for me. I have a right to know who the SOB is.”
“Why?”
“He has to pay for what he did.”
“He didn’t do anything. It was an accident. She drowned.”
Looking at him, she decided he wouldn’t bend on this issue.
“Now I’ve told you everything about my relationship with your sister.”
“Not everything. You didn’t tell me that she expected you to marry her. Did you?”
“I never once said anything to her about marriage.”
Relying upon what Susan had told Allison, but not wanting to involve Vanessa’s committee colleague, whom Jasper could punish, Allison said, “Really. Before the weekend, she told me that she expected you to ask her to marry you.”
“If she said that, she was unfortunately mistaken. I would never have left my wife and kids.”
Allison decided to try a shot in the dark. The Chinese had been so anxious about the mysterious CD they believed Vanessa had possessed. She wanted to gauge Jasper’s reaction.
“What about the CD?” Allison asked.
Jasper s
at up with a start. He looked white as a sheet.
Pay dirt, Allison thought.
“What CD?” he asked weakly.
“The one my sister had.” Allison was flying blind. Going on instinct. “The one she told you about.”
“There never was a CD.” He looked terrified. “It was all fabrication on her part.”
“Why? To induce you to marry her?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
“What then?”
“I have no idea what she was talking about.”
She guessed that under the pressure of the moment, Jasper had told her too much, and he realized it. But he couldn’t take it back.
“This discussion is over,” he said. “I’ve told you what you wanted to know. Go now and leave me alone.”
She got up and left the restaurant.
* * *
As Xiang sat in his office in the Chinese Embassy, Liu’s words, telling him not to pursue Allison any longer reverberated in his brain like an old vinyl record that was stuck in one place.
Xiang had never disobeyed an order of Liu’s, but this time he had to. The continual pain in his nose left him with a burning desire for revenge. But even more than that, he had bet his own life and those of his parents that the CD didn’t exist. What if he was wrong? The three of them would die, he was convinced.
Even if there was a CD, he could emerge unscathed if he found it and destroyed it. That was easy to say, but he’d been searching without success for days for that damn CD.
At this point, he was convinced Vanessa had not hidden it. He had looked in every conceivable place.
If she didn’t hide it, what did she do with it?
Then it struck him. Vanessa and Allison were more than twins. They had an incredibly close bond. Allison was risking her life to avenge Vanessa’s death.
That must be the answer. Vanessa sent the CD to Allison for safekeeping.
He was also convinced that Allison hadn’t seen the CD. In fact, she didn’t even know about it until he had told her about it.
He went on line and checked Allison’s Facebook page. She said that she had taken off from teaching this semester to work on a dig in Israel. Probably she had flown from Israel to Ohio for her sister’s funeral. And from there to Washington. Never stopping in Providence, where she lived and taught at Brown. So if Vanessa sent the CD to Allison in Providence, it would be waiting for her there. At her home or office.
He searched some more on the Internet until he had a home address for Allison and the address of the department of archeology at Brown. Then he checked airline schedules. It was too long until the next plane to Providence. He decided to fly to Boston and drive down. There was no late evening plane back to Washington, but he could drive to Washington from Providence.
He’d have to leave enough time to get back to Washington for his five o’clock meeting with Jasper in Rock Creek Park tomorrow morning. Regardless of what happened in Providence, Xiang had to make that meeting. Jasper had promised to bring the Pentagon’s five-year plan.
Nothing could stop Xiang from being there.
* * *
From Bistro Francais, Allison and Paul went back to Paul’s house where she told him what transpired in her conversation with Jasper. When she was finished, he asked. “What do you intend to do now?”
“Take the story to the Washington Post?”
“Why? To destroy Jasper?”
“Not just that. He refused to tell me who arranged to move the body. If the Post gets on the story, they’ll dig that out.”
“They might not believe what you tell them about Jasper. He is a powerful man in this town. They won’t just take your word for it.”
She took out her cell phone and held it out. “They’ll hear it all in Jasper’s own words. I had my phone recording.”
His head snapped back. “Wow! I’ll never underestimate you.”
“Jasper’s a miserable disgusting sleaze bag.”
“That may be, but there are risks for you in going to the press.”
“What do you mean?”
“They always put their own spin on stories. I loved Vanessa, but as you know, she slept with many senators and congressmen. They’ll focus on her sexual activities. After all, this was a weekend tryst between a senator and a very sexually attractive aide, and presumably one of many such adventures. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
As she weighed what Paul said, he continued. “I’ve had a few experiences of my own with the press which haven’t been so good. Hell, look at what the New York Times did to Martin and me about our Guantanamo case. They totally twisted the facts. Martin was furious and he got a retraction, but still—hey! That’s an idea. Why don’t I set a meeting for you with Andrew Martin. He’s had lots of experience dealing with the press. He’ll be a good sounding board. You don’t have to listen to him.”
Allison was skeptical. “I know you have a high opinion of Martin, but what can he do for me?”
“He has superb judgment. He gives people advice in tough situations. And he’s dealt with the Washington press a lot. What can you lose? Just an hour of your time.”
She thought about what Paul had said. She had no doubt that he had her best interests at heart. Perhaps she was acting rashly. Talking to Martin would be a sanity check. She was at a critical juncture. She didn’t want to overlook anything.
* * *
Martin was sitting at his desk, trying to concentrate on a brief, but all he could think about was being chief justice.
His phone rang. He could tell from caller ID that it was Paul on his cell. “Yes, Paul.”
“I wonder if I could ask you a personal favor.”
“Sure.”
“Remember I went to Ohio for a funeral?”
“Yeah. Vanessa Boyd. A Hill staffer you dated.”
“That’s right. Well anyhow, her twin, Allison, is in Washington and she needs some advice. I told her you’re the one I always turn to. And I was wondering …” Paul sounded nervous. “I was wondering if I could impose on you to meet with her this afternoon. I know it’s a bad time for you with the Supreme Court, the FCC decency case, and everything else. But she won’t take much of your time. I mean as a favor to me.”
Martin abruptly felt vibrant, alive. This was a gift from the gods. He’d convince Allison to get off this kick and go back to her own life. Having Paul there would be a huge plus.
“Of course. I’ll do it. What time?”
“We can be there in an hour.”
“I’ll be expecting you.”
Martin placed down the phone, wondering if he should level with Allison. Tell her what happened Sunday night when Jasper called. He paced, weighing the pros and cons. No, too risky, he decided. He didn’t know Allison and what if she were to take this story to the press? It all seemed so unfair, he thought. Sure he had been wrong to have made that stupid call, but Vanessa was already dead. It was an accidental drowning he had nothing to do with on a faraway beach. Why should he have to pay such an incredibly high price for one mistake with all the good he’d done?
And the consequences for Jasper? Hell, after what Wes threatened, why should he give a shit about Jasper? No, the only way was to persuade her to back off. But no threats or rough talk. He would appeal to her intelligence. And there was something to be said for leaving it alone. She couldn’t bring her sister back. And it had been an accident.
He walked over to the credenza, picked up the family picture, taken on the beach in front of the house in Anguilla, and placed it in a drawer.
* * *
Allison followed Paul into Martin’s office. Paul made the introductions.
“You’re a busy man, Mr. Martin,” Allison said “I appreciate your taking the time to meet with me.”
“For a friend of Paul’s, I make time.”
“He tells me you’re a legend in the legal world. That you should become chief justice. From the Wall Street Journal profile of you, I have to agree.”
“What
did you particularly like in that article?”
Without hesitating, she responded. “Three sentences. ‘He’s a pragmatic idealist.’ ‘He’s apolitical, but public spirited,’ and ‘Under that thick head of brown hair lies a steel trap of a legal mind.’”
“Hey, you remember that article better than I do. The one Potts wrote in the Post wasn’t nearly as flattering. In fact, not flattering at all. And the Times has been beating me up about Guantanamo.” He laughed. “You read the right article. What do you do, Allison?”
“I’m on the faculty at Brown University.”
“Specialty?”
“Why do I feel as if I’m being cross-examined?”
“Sorry. Too many years in the court room.”
“The Middle East. Specifically biblical sites. I’ve taken off this semester to work on a dig in Israel.”
“Let me show you something.”
Martin led her across the room to a cabinet with thick glass doors. Inside were two jugs of dark orange pottery. And a metal knife. Identification cards underneath.
“Where’d you get these?”
He smiled. “You know they’re from the Megiddo excavation, and it’s illegal to take them out of Israel.”
“Well, yes.”
“Many years ago, I represented the Government of Israel in a border dispute with Egypt over the Sinai. And spent a lot of time with General Dayan. As you perhaps know, he was passionate about archeology. When I had been at Oxford on a Rhodes, I studied Middle Eastern history. So General Dayan and I had long talks on the subject. We were fortunate to get a good result in the dispute, so in addition to my fee, the Israelis lent me these artifacts, to keep during my lifetime. Then they go back to Israel. It’s all documented in proper legal form.”
“I’m impressed. Do you have any special security for them?”
“Our firm has guards around the clock.”
Paul chimed in. “And when you move to the Supreme Court, you’ll take them with you?”
“If I do. We’re still a way away from that.” He shrugged. “It’s Washington.”
Martin led them to the conference table.