Jim McGill 03 The K Street Killer

by Joseph Flynn

  The women who’d been given the money were told it was meant to help with the cost of living, tuition assistance and the like. Then they had been introduced to gentlemen of means at social occasions and nature had taken its course.

  Except many of the young lovelies had police records for prostitution charges, and seated before a grand jury he was sure they would say they’d known exactly what had been expected of them in return for the money they received. The whores would be treated leniently in an attempt by the government to land the big fish — him.

  He thought he might be able to win in court, but paying for defense lawyers would wipe out any money Harlo hadn’t already clawed away from him. And how had her private eye been able to learn of Geiger’s dirty little secret in a matter of days? Why he must have had the help of … the government? Certainly the executive branch. Most likely the White House chief of staff, Galia Mindel. And who could call upon that high and mighty harridan for help? James J. McGill, the most famous private eye in Washington.

  And who had ratted out his Super-K plan to the president?

  Putnam Shady.

  And who had been a general do-gooder pain in his ass for years?

  That old bastard who refused to die, Zack Garner.

  All three of them were in the same room right this minute.

  And he had a gun and ten rounds.

  His original target had been only Putnam Shady.

  But given his list of grievances and the sudden bleakness of his future, Geiger thought why think small. Why not go out in … okay, not a blaze of glory. But a burst of revenge.

  Sure, why not? Politics was the art of the possible.

  McGill’s eyes, while not as keen as those belonging to Welborn Yates, had no problem taking in the details of the wedding three floors down and a hundred feet away. In fact, the elevation and the distance gave him a perspective on the event that he preferred to one barely more than an arm’s length away. Here, he got to see the whole setting and everyone present.

  Watching Vice President Wyman walk Kira down the aisle made him think of Abbie. She’d only just started college, but he knew that time would pass quickly, at least for him. Grad school would come next, but he could imagine Abbie getting married before she finished her formal education. Certainly, some smart young man would propose the idea of marriage to her before then, and McGill could well be the one walking his daughter to an altar.

  There would be more time before he’d play the same role for Caitie, and he couldn’t begin to guess who would capture her heart. Someone exceptional to be sure. There might be no traditional trip down the aisle for Caitie. The ceremony might be on pay-per-view TV.

  Taking a deep breath and letting it go silently, he dared to think that Kenny might someday know the joy that Welborn was experiencing right now. Watching the woman he loved walking toward him, eager to join him in a lifetime of —

  Before McGill could complete the thought, Galia Mindel’s words came back to him.

  “The president told me she would resign the presidency if necessary to help Kenny.”

  Patti was going to do it. She would be Kenny’s donor. She wouldn’t speak of resigning if she knew there were any chance that Clare might be Kenny’s donor. Clare had told him she’d privately asked Dr. Jones to be the donor for the other child she could help. Patti must have spoken to the doctor in confidence as well. Given what each woman had asked, there could be no reason for the doctor to object.

  But he’d bet both requests were held confidential.

  He was the only other one who knew both halves of the equation.

  McGill glanced at Zack Garner, sitting to his immediate left. He knew from experience that people could die with their eyes open. Any big city cop who’d been on the job a few years had seen that. There was still a glow of life in Garner’s eyes, but the wattage was low. He could go at any time, right there in a room full of people. No one would know when death had occurred if they weren’t looking right at him at the moment of passing.

  If he was watching, McGill wondered if he’d be able to see Garner’s soul depart.

  That thought made him think of Kenny again. The possibility his son might die.

  He turned back to look at the wedding, his eyes filling with tears.

  Pastor Francis Nguyen turned to face Welborn Yates and asked, “Do you take this woman to be your wife, to love her in sickness and health, for better or worse, to cherish her and her alone for all the days and nights of your life?”

  Welborn slid the gold wedding band on Kira’s finger and said, “I do.”

  And with their vows exchanged, realization came to Welborn. He knew what the object projecting from the drainpipe was. He looked up and confirmed it was the handle of a gun. He placed his left hand against his pant leg, thumb raised, index finger extended: Gun. His father couldn’t miss the sign.

  Welborn had to be reminded to kiss the bride.

  McGill saw Welborn make a gesture, his pale hand contrasting with the dark blue of his dress uniform pant leg. It looked to McGill as if … he wiped the tears from his eyes. He blinked clear his vision the best he could. At first, he thought Welborn was making a fist. But … his top finger and thumb stood out from the rest of the hand.

  He was replicating the hammer and barrel of a gun. And then the young Air Force captain turned his head and seemed to be looking right up at him.

  Welborn was giving a warning about a gun, but what gun? Where was the gun?

  He felt his cell phone vibrate. Answering it, Sir Robert answered both of his questions.

  Before anything else could be said, Speaker Derek Geiger said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “I’ll thank you to end your call, Mister McGill. Right now.”

  McGill, along with everyone else, turned to see Geiger standing behind Putnam Shady, holding a gun to the lobbyist’s head.

  GWU Hospital, Operating Room

  Dr. Jones leaned over Clare Tracy and from behind her surgical mask asked, “Are you ready, Ms. Tracy?”

  “I am,” Clare said.

  Sounded almost as if she’d spoken a vow, Clare thought.

  If it wasn’t as solemn as all that, it was at least a promise kept.

  She had said she would do her best to save a child’s life and here she was honoring her word. True, the child wasn’t Kenny McGill, but Annabelle Chalmers was as precious to her parents as Kenny was to his. Dr. Jones had shown Clare a picture of Annabelle shortly after Clare had arrived at the hospital. The photo had been taken before the leukemia had hit Annabelle hard. The little girl wasn’t classically pretty but she had bright, mischievous eyes and a cockeyed smile that was endearing. The personality she displayed wasn’t all that different from Kenny McGill’s, the little Clare had seen of it.

  Dr. Jones had told her, “Right now you’re an anonymous donor to the Chalmers family, an angel without a name. Would you like to let them know your identity?”

  “Let’s see how it goes with Annabelle,” Clare had said.

  “As you like.”

  That was the one luxury of the choice Clare had made. If things didn’t work out, she wouldn’t have to take part in the grieving. If she had failed Kenny, there would have been no way to remain apart from it. She would have felt she had failed Jim again. The fear of that happening had played no small part in her decision.

  Now, Dr. Jones said, “We’ll start with the premedication, Ms. Tracy. As I mentioned to you earlier, the anesthesiologist will be using melatonin.”

  A small smile formed on Clare’s lips. She’d been comforted when she heard that melatonin would be used. She took three milligrams every night as a sleep aid. Dr. Jones said she liked melatonin because it didn’t impair psychomotor skills, recovery was more rapid, and there was a reduced incidence of post-op agitation and delirium.

  Sounded good to Clare. She was feeling mellowed out already.

  She said a silent prayer for Annabelle, Kenny and herself.

  For Patti Grant, too. She’d also
be slipping into unconsciousness soon.

  Lord, let us all awake to a better world, Clare beseeched.

  If nothing else, she wanted the opportunity to be Jim’s friend again.

  Clare Tracy moved without incident into the first of the four possible stages of anesthesia, induction. She was still able to speak at this time, but didn’t. Stage two was known as the excitement stage. Following the patient’s loss of consciousness, it was possible for respiration and heartbeat to become irregular. It was also possible for the patient to experience spastic body movements, holding of breath and vomiting. If there were a combination of these reactions the patient’s airway could be compromised.

  Without immediate, effective intervention, death might ensue.

  Rapidly acting drugs were used to minimize the patient’s time in stage two.

  Clare passed through it without incident.

  Stage three was known as surgical anesthesia. Muscles relaxed and the patient’s breathing became regular. Eye movement slowed and then stopped. Surgery could begin, and it did. Clare’s bone marrow was obtained and would be infused into Annabelle Chalmers. Nothing was guaranteed, but with a six-point match on the bone marrow the medical team was hopeful.

  Kenny McGill was now dependent on his stepmother, the president, for his bone marrow transplant.

  Number One Observatory Circle

  Celsus Crogher saw Welborn Yates form a gun with his hand and had no doubt it meant trouble. Someone, somewhere nearby had a gun and meant to use it. The signal was given just after the bride and groom had each said “I do,” and the pastor had given his final blessing and introduced the young couple to the world.

  Nice timing, but Crogher would have intervened in the middle of the ceremony, if necessary, to protect Holly G. As he moved toward the president, Crogher saw Sir Robert Reed make a hurried phone call … He’d been the guy Yates had alerted. He was the one who knew what was happening.

  The president saw SAC Crogher rushing toward her and got to her feet.

  “Madam President,” Crogher said, “stand close behind me and be prepared for me to take you to the ground.”

  At a moment like this, Patricia Darden Grant knew she was the one who had to follow orders. She snugged up close to Crogher. Waited to see what happened next.

  Sir Robert didn’t wait to be questioned. He discreetly gestured to the window at the top, right of the vice president’s house and told Crogher, “Mr. McGill, Congressman Garner and others are in that room. I called to let Mr. McGill know that a gun has been wedged between the building and the drainpipe just outside the window. Immediately after I delivered my message, I heard a voice I believe was Speaker Geiger’s tell Mr. McGill to end his call. Apparently, he did so.”

  As Welborn and Kira approached the president, she leaned to the side to get a better look at the window.

  Crogher moved in front of her again. He told Holly G., “We’re getting you out of here momentarily, Madam President.”

  “Do you have someone with my husband, Celsus?” she asked.

  Welborn said, “Elspeth Kendry went upstairs to be with him.”

  “And I have Special Agent Latz with Garner,” Crogher said.

  “So two of your people are in the room and Derek Geiger still managed to coerce Jim into ending his phone call?”

  SAC Crogher gave Holly G. a look that would have been grounds for dismissal under any other circumstances. If people had been following his security protocols … He said, “We have to leave right now, Madam President, and these grounds will have to be cleared.”

  The president looked at her watch. “I have to get to the hospital. I promised Dr. Jones I would be on time. Kenny McGill is waiting for me.”

  Crogher nodded. “I’ll oversee the situation here from Thing One.”

  The president reasserted control and shook her head.

  “You’ll run the show from here, Celsus. Send as many special agents with me as you like, but you’re the one I’m trusting to make this situation turn out right.”

  She beckoned to Vice President Wyman who was standing nearby.

  “Mather, the moment I leave the grounds, you have the final word about what happens here and anything that follows, until I resume my office. I’m sorry to leave you in circumstances like this, but I trust your judgment completely.”

  “Thank you, Madam President. I won’t let you down.”

  Turning to Crogher she said, “Mather Wyman is the acting president, you will follow his every order as closely as you do mine.”

  SAC Crogher nodded.

  The last people the president addressed were the bride and groom. “Please accept my heartfelt congratulations and my regrets that your wedding day has been … made memorable in ways you’d never have chosen. After everything has settled down, we’ll have a party at the White House for everyone you care to invite, and Captain Yates?”

  “Yes, Madam President,” Welborn said.

  “You and your wife are to leave for your honeymoon immediately. You will make sure you and Kira enjoy every moment of it. You will do your best to put everything that’s happening here out of your mind. That’s a presidential order, Captain. Do you understand?”

  Welborn said, “Yes, ma’am. Permission to speak, ma’am?”

  The president nodded.

  “It would help me to follow your orders if —”

  Patti put a hand on his arm and said, “We’ll let you know what happens, Welborn.”

  Captain Yates snapped off a perfect salute. Kira kissed the president goodbye. Following the president’s orders, they left on the double.

  Moments later Patti was sitting alone in the back of Thing One on her way to George Washington University Hospital, all other traffic being stopped so that her motorcade might make the greatest possible speed.

  She had a young man’s life to save.

  She had to pray Jim would live to see Kenny’s recovery.

  Number One Observatory Circle

  Congressman Zachary Garner leaned over slowly and opened the window in front of him and then glanced at McGill. Speaker Derek Geiger saw the window go up and said, “If you’re planning to jump, Zack, by all means go right ahead.”

  Garner grinned and with McGill’s help got to his feet. He stood straight and towered above the speaker. “You always were a horse’s ass, Derek. Mr. Shady isn’t the one you should be pointing your gun at. I’m the guy who has been killing all your moneymen.”

  Garner took a step forward and McGill eased behind him. The congressman was big enough to block him from Geiger’s view. But Elspeth Kendry had her eyes on McGill. He saw her, too, and held up a cautionary hand: do nothing. Not yet. McGill stuck his head out the window. Saw the gun right where Sir Robert said it would be.

  McGill slipped it out of its hiding place. The weapon was slim and light, bore the name KelTec. The short magazine, he saw, couldn’t hold many rounds. Small rounds at that, nine millimeter at best. He stuck the weapon in his coat pocket; it made no perceptible bulge.

  Geiger finally noticed McGill wasn’t visible.

  “Mr. McGill, are you actually taking shelter behind a dying old man?”

  The president’s henchman stepped into view.

  He saw Sweetie was looking for an angle of attack on Geiger. But she was on the wrong side of Putnam to make a direct grab for the gun. She’d never be able to deflect the barrel before Geiger could put a bullet into the lobbyist’s head.

  He gave Sweetie a tiny shake of his head.

  Rockelle Bullard, standing just beyond Sweetie, had said she’d already turned her Glock over to Celsus. But McGill saw her slip a nail file out of her handbag. If things got to the point of using an improvised weapon, he couldn’t begrudge her that.

  McGill told Geiger, “You take shelter where you find it. A pol like you has to know that.”

  The speaker smiled. “You’d like me to point my gun at you, right? Give our friends from the Secret Service here the chance to shoot me.”

 
; “Yeah, that sounds good,” McGill agreed. “Go for it.”

  Geiger said, “I don’t think so. Being a private investigator, I suppose you carry your own gun. Did you bring it to the wedding?”

  McGill opened his coat. His own weapon, a Beretta, was in a holster on his hip.

  “And your associate, Ms. Sweeney, is she also armed?” Geiger took a quick look at Sweetie.

  She nodded. She didn’t want to shoot Geiger. She wanted to throttle him.

  “The two of you then, please put your weapons on the floor, very carefully, and kick them toward the door.”

  McGill and Sweetie followed orders.

  Geiger said, “And now the lady and gentleman of the Secret Service. I really would like to be the only one here with a gun in my hand.”

  Elspeth Kendry said, “Forget it.”

  Augie Latz nodded in agreement.

  Geiger thumbed back the hammer of his gun.

  Putnam Shady held his breath.

  But Zack Garner laughed, a surprisingly strong guffaw.

  “Something funny, Zack?” Geiger asked, his face tight. “You don’t think I’ll do it?”

  Garner said, “Oh, I suppose you might, Derek. I was just thinking maybe I’d started a trend here in the capital, officeholders shooting lobbyists who displease them. I’ve bagged four myself. I even tried to shoot Mr. Shady before he saw the light. Now, if you shoot him, you’ll be following in my footsteps.”

  But that wasn’t the thought that seized Geiger’s mind.

  “You said you shot four lobbyists?” he asked.

  Garner said, “That’s right. There was Mr. Torkelson, Mr. Waller, Mr. Benjamin and, oh yes, your old friend Brad Attles.” The dying congressman authored a ghastly smile. “That threw a monkey wrench into your Super-K plan, didn’t it?”