The Strategist

by John Hardy Bell

  “You mean how I’m going to get it back.”

  Richmond nodded. “There’s an extra payout when you do.”

  “So you’re negotiating with me directly now? My boss will be disappointed that he wasn’t invited to the table.”

  “Wasn’t that the point of you coming here? To avoid the red tape of a middleman?”

  “That middleman is pretty goddamn important.”

  “Not nearly as important as I am. Get me that disk and you can name your price.”

  Right now, that didn’t help Solomon feel any better. Even though he knew it would come down to this, he wasn’t eager to plan yet another operation, especially one involving an FBI agent. But he tried to temper his lack of enthusiasm with a healthy dose of gratitude. If it indeed was Camille Grisham who had the disk, finding her would be easy. Not only did he know what she looked like, he also knew where she lived. If need be, he could walk out the door, track down the agent, and do whatever he had to do until he got the disk. If he was lucky, he would be able to pick up his payment tomorrow as originally scheduled. Then he remembered that there was no such thing as luck when it came to his job.

  “I’ll be at the pickup location tomorrow at eleven a.m. as planned,” Solomon proclaimed as he stood up. “We can negotiate my additional fee later.”

  Richmond looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m going to get your disk back.”

  “How?”

  “Eleven a.m.”

  The confusion in Richmond’s eyes was quickly replaced with awe. “If you say so.”

  “I’ll drop the disk in the same bin I pick up the money from. I don’t want to see anyone else there, so you need to arrange to have it picked up after I’m gone. If I see something I don’t like, the whole thing is off and the disk goes in a trash bin somewhere.”

  “Understood,” Richmond answered. Then he stood up and extended his hand.

  Solomon had to think before finally shaking it. He had made lots of deals with lots of devils before, but never the same one twice. “Okay,” he said as he took Richmond’s hand. His grip was much lighter this time. “Now why don’t you escort your big donor out to the lobby? It’s good for appearances.”

  Richmond nodded in agreement. “After you.”

  As they exited the office and walked down the short corridor that led to the lobby, Solomon was suddenly curious to see more. He knew it was somewhat irregular, but he was never one to deny his curiosities. He turned to Richmond. “You know, I’ve never actually seen how one of these big time campaigns actually works. Why don’t you give me a quick tour before I go?”

  Richmond seemed slightly annoyed by the request. He obviously thought it was irregular too. But at this point why would he say no? He pointed at a door to the left of the lobby. “Right through here.”

  Solomon opened the door and was immediately taken by what he saw. The headquarters itself was located in what could kindly be called a questionable neighborhood, nestled between what looked like a group home for wayward teenagers on one side and a housing project on the other. He had read in the paper that the site was chosen specifically to appease the large pool of Latino voters who lived in the area. Whatever the motives, the location left a lot to be desired.

  But inside, the setup was extremely well put together. It was spacious, with dozens of phone banks for volunteers, and cubicles filled with young, energetic staff members. Everyone seemed to be frantically making copies of things. It was as upbeat an atmosphere as Solomon had ever been in. The mayor was far ahead in the polls, and the attitudes of the staff and volunteers reflected that. There were piles of yard signs waiting to be handed out, balloons with ‘Richmond for U.S. Senate’ hanging from the ceiling, and a poster-sized dart board with Attorney General Robert Haney’s smiling face on it. On a radio somewhere close by, U2’s Beautiful Day was playing.

  Solomon wasn’t quite ready to share that sentiment, but he could say the day was definitely starting to look up. He turned to Richmond, who was understandably beaming with pride. “The strategist has done quite well for himself,” he said with a smile.

  Richmond smiled back. “Thank you Mr. Gates.”

  Solomon took in one more eyeful then turned to leave. He had pressing business to attend to. Richmond followed.

  “So, you still haven’t told me how you plan to get this done,” Richmond said in a low tone. “I haven’t told you anything about this agent. How will you even know where to start?”

  Solomon stopped him before they entered the lobby door. “I have ways, Mr. Richmond. It won’t be difficult.”

  Richmond nodded, then opened the door to the lobby. The first person they saw was Richmond’s assistant Sarah. She looked slightly flustered, but relieved to see them. “Oh, there you are Elliott. I was worried that you’d left for the Chamber luncheon already.”

  Richmond looked at his Rolex. “Not for another twenty minutes. What’s up?”

  Sarah smiled. “It looks like this is our lucky day. Someone else just came in who is apparently very interested in giving to the campaign.”

  “Another donor, I hope?”

  “I wasn’t able to get a sense of that. But she did say that she had access to resources that the campaign would be interested in learning about. I’m thinking she belongs to some sort of organization, like the NAACP or something.”

  Richmond looked at Solomon. “Well, we can never take the African-American vote for granted, can we?” Then he looked at Sarah. “Is she in the lobby?”

  “Yep. She’s standing by the entrance.”

  “Well let’s go say hello, make her feel at home.”

  Sarah turned toward the lobby while Richmond and Solomon followed. Richmond saw the woman first. “Hello there,” he said in what was probably his standard ass-kissing voice. “Welcome to our little operation.”

  By the time Solomon looked up to see that the woman getting her ass kissed was Camille Grisham, Richmond was already shaking her hand.

  He instinctively reached inside his coat for his gun, but stopped short of pulling it out. Even though the move was subtle, it was enough to get her attention. When she glanced at him, the smile that she was putting on for Richmond went away.

  She knew. Somehow, she knew.

  “And this is Solomon Gates,” Sarah said as she put a hand on Solomon’s elbow. “He’s another one of our supporters.

  Camille nodded, though she didn’t extend her hand. “Naomi Stephens. Pleasure.”

  Naomi Stephens? Today was certainly the day for aliases. “Likewise,” Solomon answered as he tried to fake his way through a smile. The agent didn’t even bother trying. “Well Elliott, I have to run,” he said, squeezing Richmond’s shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll catch up again very soon.”

  “You can count on it, Mr. Gates,” Richmond answered confidently.

  Solomon looked back at Camille. The look in her eye hadn’t changed. It was obvious that Richmond didn’t know who she was, and he wanted to warn him. But there was no reasonable way to do that. So he silently wished him luck and walked out the door.

  “Have a good day Solomon,” Camille Grisham called out. Her tone was flat and lifeless. And it scared the hell out of him.

  “You do the same, Naomi,” he said, trying to match her tone. Unlike him, she didn’t look the least bit afraid.

  But she soon would be.

  CHAPTER 35

  The Elliott Richmond that Camille stood less than two feet away from looked nothing like the monster she saw on the video. In real life he didn’t have nearly the physical stature that his on camera behavior would have suggested. Camille would even go so far as to call him unimpressive. He looked and acted more like a used car salesman than the wealthy, politically-connected murderer that he actually was.

  Solomon Gates, on the other hand, was formidable in the way she expected Elliott Richmond to be. Standing well over six feet, with a stature befitting the average Roman gladiator, Gates was a darkly handsome man, wit
h a thick mane of black hair and an angular, sharply-chiseled face. His presence cast a shadow over all of them that made her leery. Something about him also felt familiar. In the case of most people, familiar is good. In his case, it was not.

  Whatever her feelings about Solomon Gates, she couldn’t let them distract her from the real reason she was here.

  “So Naomi, Sarah tells me that you’re a member of an organization?” Richmond asked with an inflated smile.

  The nice girl who escorted her in was still standing nearby, half listening to the conversation. Camille would have to maintain some semblance of decorum as long as she was around. So she ground her teeth, clenched her jaw, and manufactured a smile that matched Richmond’s in its absurdity. “An organization? Not exactly. Let’s just say I represent an influential block of people who are tired of the same old business as usual.” She had once heard that line in a movie.

  “I would say that you and I already have something rather significant in common. The status quo is something we can no longer tolerate. Mayor Richmond is determined to change things. With like-minded people like yourself on board, that change is going to come faster than people realize.”

  Camille continued to play along as the girl suddenly became distracted by her cell phone. “I believe the mayor can change a lot of things, Mr. Richmond. That’s why I’m here.”

  Richmond put a hand on her shoulder. “Please, I insist you call me Elliott.” Camille had to resist the urge to snatch his measly paw off her shoulder and bend it ninety degrees backward.

  The first thought that entered her mind was what could Julia have possibly seen in him? The second thought was how easy it would be to beat the living shit out of him if she had to. She didn’t anticipate it coming down to that. But then again, the meeting had just gotten started.

  “Fair enough, Elliott,” she answered with the last ounce of levity she could muster.

  When the girl was finally finished with her phone call, she walked over to Camille and Richmond. “That was the mayor. I didn’t want to interrupt your meeting so I went ahead and took the call for you.”

  “That’s perfectly okay, Sarah. What did she need?”

  “She wanted to let you know that she is going to be about twenty minutes late to the Chamber luncheon. The Five Points town hall meeting ran over a bit and she hit a snarl in traffic.”

  Richmond sighed. “I guess we could have predicted that one, huh? Thanks for letting me know.”

  She smiled. “You’re welcome. Nice to meet you, Naomi.”

  Camille returned her smile. “Nice to meet you too.” She suddenly felt afraid for the girl. She obviously had no idea who she was working for, and if he hadn’t already tried to have his way with her, he was certainly thinking about it. She wanted to warn her, just like she wanted to warn everyone else here.

  “We’ll be sure to hold things down while you’re gone,” Sarah said as she walked out of the lobby.

  “I have no doubt you will,” Richmond answered, his eyes lingering on the girl until she disappeared behind the door. After she was gone he put his hand back on Camille’s shoulder. “The Chamber of Commerce is honoring the mayor with an award this afternoon and as usual she’s running late. She jokes that when she’s elected senator she’s going to be late to the swearing-in and they’re going to take her seat away before she even gets the chance to sit in it.”

  With no one left to put on a show for, Camille didn’t even attempt to smile. “I take it you’re the punctual one in the family?”

  Richmond shrugged his shoulders, genuinely perplexed by Camille’s question. “I may be only slightly better about it than she is. Speaking of which, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this short. If I don’t get going I may not make it at all.”

  “I can appreciate that you’re busy, Elliot. I happen to be kind of busy myself. In fact, this has probably been the longest, most emotionally hellish week of my entire life. And when you’ve had the life I’ve had, that’s really saying something. To be honest, I’m lucky to have made it here at all. If I’m not careful, I may have a complete nervous breakdown right here in this office. So for both our sakes, I’ll be as quick as I can.” Camille maintained a steady measure in her voice that made Richmond visibly nervous. That was the whole idea.

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “Do we really have to discuss this out here?”

  Richmond began slowly backpedaling his way toward the lobby door. “I don’t know what you’re referring to. But as I said, I’m running late, and I don’t think I really have time to–”

  “Because my best friend was murdered a week ago,” Camille interrupted, her voice losing some of its measure. “And I’d rather not talk about the specifics of it in this very public room. When you hear what I have to say, you’re not going to want to talk here either.”

  Camille’s words stopped Richmond cold. “What on earth are you talking about?” he bellowed in a manner that was supposed to mask the obvious distress painted all over his face.

  Camille said nothing as she pulled out a silver flash disk and tossed it to him. He fumbled trying to catch it and it fell to the ground.

  “Don’t worry if you broke that one. I have copies.”

  Richmond looked at her with pitiful eyes as he bent down to pick up the disk. Camille wanted to bask in the sight of this pathetic man in his tailored suit crouching on the ground like the dog that he was, but she suddenly felt weak and light-headed. This nightmare of a day was starting to catch up to her, just like her father warned it would.

  “What is this?” Richmond asked as he held up the disk.

  “Almost a thousand Excel and Word documents on that disk related to the Schumann Investment Group and Springwell Technologies. Do either of those names ring a bell? From what I’m beginning to learn, you’re pretty familiar with both. There’s also a PowerPoint presentation for the Schumann Board of Directors detailing a number of risky investments that Schumann entered into, using the retirement income of state employees as collateral. There are three other PowerPoints which detail income losses as a result of collapsed stock prices and a plan for affected board members to recoup their losses. Once again, at the expense of state employees. And then there’s the interesting bit about Springwell Technologies and the online voting project that they were spearheading. Funny that you would have an involvement in something like that, considering your wife is dependent on those very votes to win her senate seat. Personally, I don’t know anything about this stuff, so most of it is Greek to me. But I do recognize criminal activity when I see it. And what I saw in those documents looked pretty damn criminal.” Camille had to pause to stop herself from shaking. “But the best part is the video.”

  Richmond’s face suddenly turned to stone. “That’s enough.”

  “So you know what I’m talking about? I’m glad I don’t have to explain any further.

  “I said that’s eno–”

  “Did you honestly think you could say the things that you said on that video and actually get away with it? You had to know that it was eventually going to come out. Did Julia tell you she was going to make it public? Is that why you did it?” Camille was talking much louder than she needed to, but at this point she didn’t care if anyone heard her.

  “For God sake, keep your voice down,” Richmond said in an angry whisper.

  “If it’s really that much of a concern, maybe we should find someplace a little more private to talk this out.”

  “I have an even better idea. Get the hell out of here before I have you thrown out.”

  Richmond took a step toward Camille, and her mind instantly flashed back to an image of him doing the same thing to Julia. If his finger came anywhere near her face, she was fully prepared to break it.

  “If you need a cop to escort me out, you should consider calling Detective Walter Graham in homicide. He’s pretty busy with Julia’s case, but I’m sure he’d drop everything and rush right over if you asked him to. Thinks the wor
ld of you. When I took this disk to him, he got so angry I thought he was going to shoot me on the spot. We should all have someone in the world who thinks that highly of us. Makes me think the two of you are buddies or something. Anyway, it’s fortunate for me that Graham isn’t the only cop in town. Something tells me they won’t all react as strongly as he did.”

  Richmond nodded as his face suddenly lit up with recognition. “I personally think Naomi is a much prettier name than Camille. You should really think about having it changed.”

  “I don’t think my father would be too happy with that, considering he was the one who named me. You know how stubborn cops can be.”

  “They’re a lot like former FBI agents. They don’t always know when to quit.”

  Camille felt her hand curl up in a tight fist. “Enough with the banter, Elliott. I came here to ask you a very simple question.”

  Richmond’s posture became rigid. “What question is that?”

  “Are you going to do the right thing?”

  A hint of a smile came across his face. “Is this on the record or off?”

  “This isn’t a fucking newspaper interview,” Camille answered briskly. “Besides, I already have you on video. I don’t need you on tape too.”

  “Right. Well, as I said in that video you keep referring to, I don’t take kindly to being threatened.”

  “Believe me, I know. You usually kill people who threaten you. But in my case, I figured I had nothing to lose, so why not take the chance?”

  “You really are funny, Camille. Or should I say Agent Grisham. But I didn’t kill Julia. I may have done other things that I shouldn’t have. But I didn’t kill her.”

  Camille shook her head. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Are you going to do the right thing? So far your answer seems to be no. I want to give you the opportunity to reevaluate that before I leave.”

  “Maybe you should reevaluate what’s going to happen after you leave.”

  Camille opened her mouth to respond, but the look in Richmond’s eyes stopped her. She caught her first glimpse of the monster. It was a fleeting appearance, but the fear that it instilled in her lingered. She did her best to push it back. “I know exactly what’s going to happen after I leave.”