The Mangan woman lowered her head.
Hastings said, “Mrs. Mangan, I want you to know two things. One, he saved my life when he didn’t have to. The second thing is, he was innocent of the original charge. He wasn’t lying when he said he was wrongly convicted.”
“He could have stayed here,” Molly said. “He could have left it alone. I guess he just didn’t want to. It’s all just such a waste.”
Hastings sighed and said, “Yes, it is.”
Molly looked directly at him. “Would you have killed him? To save Preston? Would you have done that?”
“That would have been up to Reese. But if it had come to it, yes, I would have.”
“Even though you knew the senator deserved it. You’d have done that.”
“We can’t allow vengeance killing. Deserving has nothing to do with it.”
“Some business you’re in,” she said.
Hastings had intended to tell her not to feel bad about getting involved with Reese. Not to feel dirty or guilty. But now he saw she didn’t need that sort of comfort. She was angry at him now. She had to be angry at somebody. It would pass, though. He believed it would pass.
The next day, Rhodes came into Hastings’s office and said, “Senator Preston’s on television.”
Hastings went into the homicide squad room and joined the group of detectives watching a CNN broadcast. It was Preston thanking Dexter Troy and Clu Rogers for sacrificing their lives for him.
American flags were in the background and somewhere else the logo of Ghosthawk, Incorporated. Preston was eulogizing the “heroes” who “gave their lives” selflessly, protecting him from an American terrorist.
Groans in the homicide squad room. Murph saying, “Have you ever heard such shit? He was about to kill a cop.”
“Fucking disgraceful,” Rhodes said.
Preston kept talking. Klosterman said, “I don’t think he’s finished.”
“. … In a time of cynicism and despair, we can take some comfort in the bravery of these men. They are the personification of courage. They represent what is best about America … .”
“Oh, God,” Murph said, “this guy is unbelievable.”
“. … Their sacrifice has moved me to remember that America is a country that deserves better. They deserved better. We need leadership that is worthy of such Americans. Leaders who do not fear the dark of night. Leaders who do not run from terrorists. Leaders who do not negotiate with evil but, rather, face evil and say, ‘We will defeat you!’ Leaders who do not treat the enemy the same way we treat a shoplifter but, rather, who believe in the old-fashioned idea of treating the enemy as the enemy. Leaders who know that when we are pushed, then, gentlemen, we will take the fight to them.”
“Oh no,” Klosterman said, seeing what was coming.
“. … This is what our country needs. This is what men like this deserve. … .”
“He wouldn’t,” Klosterman said.
“Yeah,” Hastings said, “he would.”
“We will not be intimidated!”
“He’s nuts,” Klosterman said.
Hastings said, “No, he’s quite sane.”
“And so it is with great deliberation and careful consideration that I announce that I will be filing a Statement of Candidacy for the presidential nomination. God bless these men. God bless all of you. And God bless America.”
FIFTY-THREE
Martin Keough told Preston he shouldn’t see the cop. He said the cop was just a loser, a misfit who was obsessing about him. He said the cop was being backed by his chickenshit, loser chief now.
“Don’t worry,” Preston said, “I can handle him.” Senator Preston was feeling a lot better about things these days. In a way, he looked forward to having a final discussion with the cop.
Keough escorted the cop into the senator’s office. Preston dismissed Keough with a look.
Then Preston said, “Well, Lieutenant. It seems like you just can’t get enough of me. Sit down.”
Hastings took a seat. The senator sat behind his desk.
Senator Preston said, “It seems like we both won, doesn’t it?”
“How is that?” Hastings asked.
“You caught Reese and I stayed alive. That’s quite a feather in your cap, isn’t it?”
Hastings said, “I would have preferred to take him alive.”
“Sure. But he didn’t give us much choice, did he?”
Hastings took particular offense at the word us. “Maybe not,” he said. “You know, your Mr. Rogers tried to kill me.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say about a soldier of the U.S. armed forces.”
“Ex-soldier. He died a mercenary and a murderer.”
“Well, who’s to say what happened out there?” Preston gave him a steady, knowing look. “Reese? He’s dead. And so is Mr. Troy. All that’s left is you.”
“Right.”
“And it’s a rather moot point now, isn’t it? Say you were telling the truth, what would you do? Bring attempted murder charges against a dead man?”
“No, not much point in that.”
“Of course not. In fact, I don’t see what you have to complain about.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”
The senator took his meaning. He leaned forward and said, “Okay, let’s cut the crap. You believe Reese was telling the truth, don’t you? That I did put an innocent man in prison. Why don’t you just say it?”
“Okay. I’ll say it. You knew Reese was innocent and you went ahead and prosecuted him anyway. You knowingly put an innocent man in prison.”
“Now why would I have done that? I didn’t even know him.”
“Not knowing him probably made it easier.” Hastings shrugged. “You wanted to win a trial. You won. And now you’re running for president.”
The senator smiled. “Well, good luck proving I framed him. You’ve got no witnesses, no proof. John Reese is dead. And you’ve got nothing.”
“Yeah,” Hastings said, “you got away with it. And I guess I helped you do it.”
“I guess you did.”
“But,” Hastings said, “there is that house in Chesterfield.”
Silence in the room. Hastings kept a steady gaze on Preston. And he took satisfaction in seeing a slight twitch in Preston’s face.
“…House?” Preston put a confused expression on.
“Yes. The house on Walker Place. You sold it four years ago to Kyle Anders. The records show he paid you one million one for it. Which is kind of funny, as its fair market value was about six hundred thousand.”
Preston said, “Interesting. Go on.”
“Then, seven months later, Anders sold it for five hundred and ninety thousand. That was about a five-hundred-thousand-dollar profit for you.”
Preston looked bored. “I see,” he said. “And why would Mr. Anders have done that?”
“It was an investment. But Anders got it back, though, didn’t he? All those contracts you steered to his company. About a billion dollars’ worth. I’d say he got a very good return.”
“Wow,” Preston said. “That’s quite a case you got there, Lieutenant. Should I turn myself into you? Or wait for the FBI to show up? Let them arrest me.”
Hastings frowned.
Preston laughed. Then he said, “Do you really believe you’re the first one to throw that accusation at me? Do you? Don’t you know anything?”
Preston leaned forward and said, “Lieutenant, you are … amusing, I’ll give you that. This, er, payoff scandal you raise, it’s already been investigated by the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Washington. As well as the Senate Ethics Committee. Two years ago. I was cleared.”
Hastings said nothing.
Preston said, “Oh, didn’t know that, did you? Well, I’m not surprised. I suppose you don’t know much of what’s going on outside of this town. No proof of criminal intent, they said. Good-faith offer, et cetera, et cetera. Not only was I cleared; nobody cared. Oh, reporters wrote about it, but
it was strictly relegated to the back pages. It’s just not interesting enough.”
Hastings said nothing, his disappointment registering, Preston enjoying it.
Hastings said, “I’ll bet there were other payoffs.”
“Bet all you like. You aren’t going to be able to prove anything. You won’t find anything. You want to try to bring down big bad Alan Preston, go ahead. Other people have tried and they were a hell of a lot smarter and more powerful than you. And they had resources and connections you couldn’t dream of. Still, if you’re determined, go ahead.”
Hastings thought about saying that maybe he would. But it would sound weak, because it was.
Preston said, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Preston stood up. He said, “In a few months, you’ll forget about this. You’ll want to, trust me.”
Hastings felt the need to say it. “John Reese was innocent.”
“Who’s John Reese?”
FIFTY-FOUR
After the cop left, Preston told Keough to get Jeff Crittenden on the phone. Preston asked, “Do you think he saw the speech?”
Keough said, “I’m sure he has. It’s all over the networks.”
“See,” Preston said, “it wasn’t a formal announcement. I just said I would be filing the statement. When we do the formal, we’ll pick a more regal place.”
“Yes, sir. But I don’t see how it could be any better than it was then. Just brilliant, sir. Brilliant.”
Preston said, “Did you see that cop when he walked out of here? Man, I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed that. I still know how to have fun.”
“Sir, the man is an absolute nothing. You’ve forgotten more about the game than he’ll ever know.”
Preston walked out of the office and down the hall to the kitchen. He was humming to himself. The tune was “The Sunny Side of the Street.” “Grab your coat and get your hat…” He got a bottled water from the refrigerator and started back to the office. He saw Sylvia standing on the stairs.
In her hand she held a suitcase.
Preston said, “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to my sister’s in Chicago.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I’m going to my sister’s in Chicago.”
“I don’t understand. When were you going to tell me?”
“I am telling you.”
“Going there for a few days? … What?”
“For a while,” Sylvia said. “We’ll sort out the details later.”
Preston looked at his wife for a long time. The details? A realization was dawning on him now. She wouldn’t …
He said, “I don’t … Sylvia, are you leaving me?”
“Yes.”
“What? You’re joking.”
“No, Alan. I’m not joking.”
“Look, you’re mad. I understand. I didn’t tell you what I was going to say in that speech. I’m sorry. But that was not a formal announcement. See, I was just testing the—”
“Oh, Alan, don’t bother. I’m not mad at you for making that speech. In fact, I wasn’t even really surprised. Which is rather sad, if you think about it.”
“Sylvia—”
“But what’s sadder is, I know what you did to that man years ago. You let an innocent man go to jail. And I was willing to overlook that. I was willing to stay with you even though you’d done that. Maybe that makes me a good, loyal wife; maybe it makes me a whore. I don’t know. But … now you’re running for president. And that means I have to talk about you. I have to go on television and campaign for you and tell people why you’re such a great man and a great husband and a great father and why you’d make a great president. And Alan, I just don’t think I have it in me to do that. Even if I wanted to do it, I don’t think I could. I don’t have that sort of ambition. I can’t keep up with you.”
She walked past him and to the door.
Preston said, “Wait a minute, Sylvia. Sylvia. Don’t do this. Let’s talk about this.”
“You had your chance to talk to me about it before.”
“All right. I’m sorry I didn’t okay it with you first. Okay? I’m sorry. Now we’ll talk about it.”
“It’s too late.”
“Sylvia. Don’t do this to me. Sylvia. Don’t you realize what you’re doing?”
She kept going and he said what was truly on his mind.
“Don’t you understand? I can’t possibly be a viable candidate if my wife is divorcing me. ”
Sylvia Preston opened the front door and looked back at him.
“Ah,” she said. “The real concern.” She sighed and let that sink in, giving him a long look of tired contempt he’d probably never seen before. Not from her. “Good-bye Alan. I’d like to wish you good luck with the campaign, but somehow I can’t.”
FIFTY-FIVE
In the Jaguar, his cell phone rang. A number he didn’t recognize. The chief telling him he’d just received another interesting call from Preston? Or maybe Keough calling him to say, nice try, loser. Oh hell. Just answer it.
“Hastings.”
“George? This is Eileen.”
“Eileen? What number are you calling from?”
“Oh, I’m at pay phone at a goddamn convenience store. I got a flat tire about two blocks from here and I left my cell phone in the car.”
“Don’t you have triple A?”
“What?”
“You know, an auto club.”
“What’s that?”
“Never mind. Where’s your husband?”
“He’s on his way. Listen, I’m supposed to take Amy to basketball practice tonight, but—”
“Oh. I’ll take care of it.”
“Call me after you pick her up, okay?”
“I will, Eileen.” Hastings laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I don’t know,” Hastings said. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it later.”
The Silent Places Page 24