The Strategist

by John Hardy Bell

  “All finished?” he asked as he quickly approached.

  “All finished,” she answered.

  He nodded, then opened the box. “Will you be leaving anything else behind?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you sure? Ms. Leeds pre-paid for six months, so if you need more time…”

  “I’m positive. But thank you.”

  “No problem,” Raphael said as he closed the box and slid it back into its wall slot. “If you’re ready, please follow me.”

  Once Camille got back to her car she felt safe enough to open the envelope. Inside was the flash disk that Julia spoke of in the original note. She immediately put it inside her jacket pocket, then unfolded the paper.

  Julia’s handwriting covered nearly every inch of the page, including the margins, which was uncharacteristically sloppy for her. The script also didn’t have the refined edge that Julia’s writing normally had. It looked rushed, almost as if she couldn’t write fast enough to keep pace with her thoughts.

  The words ‘Insurance Policy’ were written in large block letters at the top of the paper. Below that, Camille saw her name again, followed by a succinctly-written list of facts that didn’t make much sense.

  You can contact my personal lawyer Laurence Pine

  in regard to the Excel file ‘Schumann-Springwell’

  He’ll know what to do with it.

  I forgot to include the name of the investment manager

  for the Colorado PERA account. Nicolas Jacoby. He

  works for the Schumann Investment Group.

  ‘Some of these files are self-explanatory, while some you

  won’t be able to make heads or tails out of. What you

  can’t figure out, the Securities and Exchange Commission

  can. Don’t hesitate to get them involved if you have to.’

  And then there was the paragraph that most got Camille’s attention.

  Even though it’s the last thing I want you to

  see, please make sure you watch the movie file first.

  Very painful and embarrassing, but it’s also very

  important. You may recognize the man in the

  video, but if you don’t, all you have to do is turn

  to the political section of any Colorado newspaper.

  He did this to me Camille. I may not have direct

  proof to substantiate that, but I’m telling you he did.

  After that, Camille couldn’t read any further. Her stomach turned and she thought she was going to be sick. She took a long pull from a half-empty water bottle that was sitting in the cup holder, not knowing or caring how long it had been sitting there. After opening the window and taking in a couple deep breaths, she felt a little better.

  Then she felt the weight of the flash disk in her pocket and her stomach suddenly felt queasy again.

  There was probably more on that disk than she could even imagine, and Julia had entrusted her to keep it safe. But it didn’t matter what kind of information was stored on it, the fact that Julia died over what amounted a two inch piece of plastic was overwhelming in its absurdity. And no matter what she saw in the movie file, no matter who the man was in it, no matter the physical or emotional risk to herself, Camille simply could not let that pass.

  ‘He did this to me, Camille.’

  Powered by a sudden surge of adrenaline, Camille started the car and sped away. All she could think about now was getting to a computer. Though her father had perfectly capable PC in his office, Camille would have to use her own. She may eventually call on him to help, but she knew that what she was about to see required absolute privacy. Julia had entrusted her with this disk above everyone else, even her own family. Camille had to honor that, even if it meant that her father could never see what was on it.

  When she got home, she walked into the living room and saw him sitting in front of the TV. He greeted her with a thin smile.

  “Sorry, I haven’t been able to turn it off.”

  Camille took off her coat and sat down next to him. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” She glanced at the TV and saw that it was tuned to CNN Headline News. “Have you heard anything else?”

  “The bastards are already sensationalizing it with a tagline: ‘Beautiful young lawyer gunned down in home invasion.’” He shook his head. “They’re also saying that the department is looking at a person of interest in the case, but they aren’t giving a name.”

  “Smells like BS to me,” Camille said as the newscast abruptly transitioned to a report on the disappearance of honey bees.

  Paul turned off the television. “When you were talking to the detectives, did they mention anything about having a suspect in mind?”

  “They did. A mail clerk at Julia’s firm.”

  “And what do you think about that?”

  “Not much.”

  “As in you don’t buy him as a suspect?”

  “As in I’d bet my life that he had nothing to do with it.”

  Paul’s eyes widened. “And did you tell them that?”

  “I’m not in the FBI anymore, dad. Why would they care what I think?”

  Paul’s expression flattened. “What did you think about the detectives?”

  “Graham’s an asshole.”

  Paul chuckled. “You certainly read that one correctly.”

  “He talked about how he wished he got the chance to work with you on the detective beat because you were such a great cop. No one can dispute that you were a great cop, but it didn’t sound the least bit sincere coming from him.”

  Paul leaned back on the couch and briefly reflected. “I could tell you stories about Walter Graham. He’s not nearly as well-liked in the department as he thinks he is.”

  “If I had to wager a guess, I’d say there was some dirt somewhere in his past.”

  One side of Paul’s mouth curled up in a tight smile. “Like I said, I could tell you some stories. But we’ll save those for another time.”

  “His partner seems pretty solid.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Her name is Chloe Sullivan.”

  Paul blushed. “I’m familiar with her. She was a beat cop when I was around. Good one too. Nice to know she made her way up.”

  “She kind of reminds me of myself,” Camille said, finally giving voice to something she had thought from the moment she met Sullivan.

  Paul put a hand on his daughter’s knee. “If she’s anything like you, then the monster who did this doesn’t stand a chance.

  Camille tried to imagine the face of the man in the video she had yet to watch.

  He did this to me, Camille.

  “Let’s hope you’re right.”

  Paul stood up. “So did all that driving help you work up an appetite? I can get that grilled cheese ready for you in five minutes.”

  “I grabbed a Quarter Pounder on the way home,” Camille said. Another simple but necessary lie. As much as her father’s presence comforted her, she couldn’t afford to spend another second down here.

  “Can I make you a cup of tea or something?”

  “More than anything I just need to lay down. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to sleep right now, but I need to try.”

  “Okay. If you need a little help, I have some Tylenol P.M. in the medicine cabinet.”

  Camille didn’t have the heart to tell him that she had something five times stronger tucked away in her nightstand. “Thanks.”

  “Not a problem. If you’re going to be sleep, I may just head out for a while. As hard as it’s been to concentrate on anything else but you, there are actually few errands I need to run. But only if you’re sure you’ll be okay here by yourself.”

  I actually prefer it was what she wanted to say to him. “I promise I’ll be fine,” was what she said instead.

  “Then I’ll get out of your hair for a while.” He kissed her on the forehead, took the car keys that Camille set down on the coffee table, and left.

&
nbsp; Camille waited until she heard him get in his car and drive away before she rushed upstairs to her bedroom. She couldn’t get there fast enough.

  CHAPTER 28

  Camille hadn’t used her laptop since she unpacked it the night she arrived. There was no Facebook status to update, and she stopped checking her email account weeks ago, so she hadn’t expected to get any real use out of it aside from an occasional game of Spider Solitaire. Nothing in her darkest imagination could have prepared her for how wrong she would be.

  Before inserting the disk, Camille unfolded the paper that was included in the safe deposit box and laid it out in front of her. When she glanced at it she saw the words ‘mayor’ and ‘senate race’, but like most every other word on the page, they meant nothing to her.

  After another few moments of needless stalling, she finally picked up the disk.

  Let go of the fear and just do it.

  She closed her eyes as she slid it into the USB port.

  Within seconds a window opened up displaying at least one hundred file folders. Each of them were titled and dated: ‘7th Congressional Re-Districting’, ‘Precinct Judges NW Denver’, and so on. She clicked on a folder titled ‘Den County Clerk & Recorder Stats’ and saw more Excel documents than she cared to count.

  It didn’t matter what kind of instructions Julia had written down, Camille knew that most of this stuff was too far above her pay-grade to ever figure out. She hadn’t had much experience with the Bureau’s White Collar Crimes Division and knew absolutely nothing about congressional districts and precinct judges. But Julia was fully aware of that. Yet she left her responsible for the information anyway. Despite her current inability to decode what she was seeing, Camille knew there was something here worth decoding. And judging by the sheer number of files on this disk, it was something big.

  Camille continued scrolling through folders with titles that required a Representative Government 101 glossary to understand. Then, halfway down the page, she came across a Windows Movie file that stopped her cold. Unlike the rest of the files on the disk, the title of this one was simple and straightforward. No glossary needed.

  ‘MY FINAL NIGHT WITH ELLIOTT’

  She re-read Julia’s note. “Even though it’s the last thing I want you to see, make sure you watch the movie file first. Very painful and embarrassing, but it’s also very important.”

  Her hand trembled as she double-clicked the file.

  The first thing she saw was a grainy shot from high above a bed. Seeing it had immediately confirmed Camille’s worst fears. She was tempted to turn it off right then, but knew she had to keep watching, no matter what.

  After a few seconds, a lean, middle-aged man wearing only a towel entered the frame. He was talking over his shoulder as he rubbed something on his chest and arms.

  “I mean it, Jules. You keep doing stuff like that and you’re going to have a hard time getting rid of me.”

  “Empty promises,” Camille heard a female voice say off-camera. Despite its muted quality, she knew the voice all too well.

  “Okay, let’s switch places for a day and we’ll see how you deal with the complicated hell that’s my life,” the man answered.

  “Your life is only as complicated as you make it, Elliott.”

  “And you don’t think you have anything to do with that?”

  Julia finally came into the camera’s view. She was completely naked and drying her hair with a towel. Camille instinctively looked away.

  “I take no responsibility for the hell that is your life,” she said lightly. “All I ever ask is to be more a part of that life. Hell or not.”

  When Camille looked at the screen again, Julia was sitting on the bed still drying her hair. The man stood over her.

  “I don’t think it would be nearly as hellish if you were in it more.”

  Julia stopped drying her hair and looked up at him. “Make it happen then.”

  “You don’t think I’m trying?”

  “All I know is that after you leave here you’re going home to a woman who thinks you still love her. Beyond that, I don’t know what you’re doing.”

  He sighed. “I told you I’m working on it.”

  Camille had to avert her eyes again, feeling embarrassed by what she was seeing. The woman in the video was definitely Julia, but aside from the way she looked, Camille recognized nothing about her. She spoke in a desperate, pleading tone that Camille had never heard before. She was the worst possible cliché – the jaded other woman who clung to the delusional hope of a future that would never be. She hated to even think of the word ‘pathetic’ in regard to Julia, but that’s exactly what she was. And it was sad beyond description.

  “Actions, Elliott.”

  He smiled. “I prefer it when you call me Richmond,” he said as he moved closer to her. “Somehow you manage to make that name sound incredibly sexy.”

  Even though the camera was some distance away, Camille could see the smile forming on Julia’s face. “Is that right, Richmond?” She emphasized his name in such a way that left little doubt as to what was coming next.

  A gentle pull on his towel caused it to fall to the floor. For a moment, Julia sat motionless, staring at his erect penis. When she took it in her hands, Camille got up and walked away. She felt like crying but didn’t allow herself to. She knew the tears would be not of sadness but of angry judgment. And the last thing she could allow herself to do was stand in judgment. This video obviously existed for reasons far beyond what she was seeing right now, and no matter how Camille may have felt about it, she had to keep watching.

  When she walked back to the computer, Julia and the man she called Elliott had switched positions and he was now the one sitting on the bed while Julia stood over him, one leg straddling his waist.

  Camille looked at the time meter on the bottom of the screen and saw there was fifty-eight minutes remaining in the video. As Julia brought her other leg up and lowered herself onto Elliott’s lap, Camille hit the fast forward button and looked away.

  She periodically checked the screen while rapidly moving images flashed in front of her. The fact that she had seen Julia in such an intimate and personal circumstance was surreal. In sixteen years, Camille thought she knew everything there was to know about her. But she was beginning to think that she never really knew Julia at all. The woman she knew would have never put herself in a circumstance like this. The woman she knew would have never slept with a married man. And she would certainly never beg for his affection. If you know a person long enough, you eventually see all sides of them – even the sides they desperately try to hide. Julia obviously tried to keep this side of herself hidden from Camille for as long as she could. But even she knew it couldn’t stay hidden forever.

  When the video finally reached a point when Julia and Elliott were no longer in bed, Camille pressed ‘play’. The camera held the shot of an empty bed with the two of them nowhere to be found. After a couple of minutes, Camille hit fast forward again, advancing through another ten minutes of video time before a fully clothed Julia finally appeared in the bedroom. By the time Camille pressed ‘play’, Julia was already in mid-sentence.

  “That’s always the way it goes! You get your rocks off here then run home and put on your fucking family man suit!”

  “Whatever!” Camille heard Elliott shout from off camera.

  “Yeah whatever, Elliott! Whatever! I wonder if that’s what she’d say if she ever found out. Do you think she would be so nonchalant about it?”

  As taken aback as Camille was by what she saw earlier in the video, Julia’s angry display was absolutely shocking. She had witnessed Julia raise her voice only a few times, and never to this level. Her eyes were wild and she looked as if she were ready to throw a punch. Camille feared she would do just that when Elliott finally entered the bedroom.

  “I don’t suggest you talk like that,” he answered. Even though his tone was measured, there was an unmistakable menace behind it.

  Julia
didn’t seem the least bit fazed. “Oh really? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call her right now?”

  “Because you would ruin a lot of lives, starting with your own.”

  “Is that supposed to be a threat or something?”

  Elliott approached her until he was only a few inches from her face. Julia didn’t give an inch of ground.

  “The way I’m reading this conversation, you’re the one making threats.” He started to bring his hand up, but when Julia brushed by him and sat on the bed, he lowered it.

  “I haven’t started making threats yet, Richmond.” The emphasis on his name was not nearly as sexy this time.

  There was a brief moment of silence as Julia sat on the bed and Elliott stood in the corner looking at the wall. Both appeared emotionally spent. Then Elliott began looking around the room. “Let me guess, you’re recording this.”

  Julia stood up. “Seriously? What kind of stupid question is that?” she asked in the high-pitched voice that Camille knew she only used when she was lying. “The video camera is downstairs hooked up to my TV if you want to go check.” Julia didn’t bat an eyelash, even though she practically spoke into the camera as she said it.

  “Don’t act like you’re suddenly above doing it.”

  “If I recall, anytime there was ever a video, it was because you asked for it. Why on earth would I want to record myself having sex with an asshole?”

  Elliott stopped looking around the room and turned his focus back to her. “I don’t think you would have had a problem with it half an hour ago.”

  Julia smiled. “Funny how quickly things change, isn’t it?”

  Elliott leaned against the dresser and cast his eyes downward, apparently satisfied with Julia’s answer about the camera. She had obviously concealed it well, because he had looked directly into it at least three different times.

  “So maybe you should tell me what I’m supposed to do?” he asked.

  “Tell the truth for once in your life, Elliott. Just tell the truth.”