The Bee Keeper

by Vincent, Tracy D

  The car stops at the government building. My office, as well as the rest of my personal staff, is on the top floor. Most people in Hartford aren’t even aware that my office is here. They think it is at the capitol building, which suits me just fine.

  I walk toward the side of the building instead of the front main entrance. My guards and I have a private entrance and though there’s a police detail at the door we’re not frisked like everyone else coming into the building.

  “Good morning, Hugh,” I say to the policeman on duty.

  “Mornin’, Senator, mighty pretty day for mid-November, wouldn’t you say?” the portly, elderly officer says with a large grin splitting his face.

  “Yes, it is, Hugh. It sure is.” I grin back at him and pat him on the shoulder as I pass by. It is a nice day. I can breathe without the noose that is Junior’s fuck-up around my neck. The business with the car is over. The briefcase is secure with Timo. I’m sure he’s destroying the documents as we speak because it implicates him as well as myself.

  The one thing no one understands about my position is that my power really isn’t absolute. I have to do so many things to make sure everything goes my way. Some things are simple like photo opportunities in specific places, or kissing up to the right person. The side no one wants to consider is the darker side that I have to deal with. Bribing people, threatening people, or even making sure that some threats are eliminated. My efforts are finally paying off.

  The city of Hartford is thriving, tourists come for vacations, we have new families moving in. We’re not as large as New Leonsburg, but we’re close enough by. We’re not nearly as small as Mapleton or even Abbington, but unlike Mapleton, we have commerce, and unlike Abbington, we’re not all factory workers with no attractions. All in all, I have done a mighty fine job and I plan on continuing to do it.

  Part of my plans include grooming my son to take my place, but he is forever screwing that pooch. There is Edward, whom I’ve already taken under my wing. If things with Junior don’t pan out, it’s only right that Ed would follow in my footsteps.

  I make my way to my private elevator and step in with my security detail. I almost feel like whistling. Almost. I look at myself through the mirror-polished metal walls. I stand a little straighter and try to give the appearance of being more serious. If we don’t hear from Junior soon, I’m sure Linda will get the law involved within the next twenty-four hours.

  When the elevator door opens, the shuffling of papers and people and the phones ringing greets me. This is us every day. We even work on weekends. Well, they work on weekends, I don’t, at least not here. Most of the time, I have to attend one event or another on the weekend. I have to keep my constituents happy.

  I pass by desk after desk. There are a few empty, including Regina’s. Since Dani has been removed from the situation, I might take back up with Regina on a more full-time basis. She’s feisty and makes me feel young again. I make my way down the hall to the offices, and I poke my head in Edward’s.

  “Ed, meet me in my…” I glance around and his office is an absolute mess, with mail and packages piling on his desk. I know he was here on Saturday but left early. He didn’t come in on Sunday, which is his usual day off, and he didn’t show up yesterday. That’s because he was with Geoffrey. But there’s no reason for him to not be here already.

  I see an intern passing through and I grab his arm gently. “Have you seen Edward this morning? I have matters that need to be taken care of.”

  “No, sir, Senator, sir,” the new intern says, swallowing nervously. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him before now.

  “Hmm, thank you.” I let him go and continue on to my office. My security detail doesn’t follow me all through the office, they just verify that everything is secure and head to the elevators and stand near them, mean-mugging everyone that steps on or off them.

  I pick up my phone and dial Edward’s number again. It goes straight to his voicemail for the twelfth time. “Edward, I’m really sick of you not answering my calls. Yesterday I’ll grant you because you can’t guarantee it’s me calling from the office, but you are supposed to be here already.”

  I call his parents’ house. Anita answers the phone. I always have liked Anita; she has always been really sweet and genuinely warm. “Hello?”

  “Anita, Senator Wright here. I’m trying to get in touch with Edward. He spent the weekend with Geoff, and he’s not come into work today. There’s much to cover, so I really need to get in touch with him.”

  “I’m sorry, Geoffrey, but we’ve not talked to him since Friday. If he calls here, I’ll be sure to have him call you,” she replies quietly. She has never been one to speak loudly. Harrison, her husband, on the other hand, can be quite abrasive.

  “Thank you, Anita, I appreciate it. Good day.”

  “Goodbye, Senator.”

  This is unlike Edward. Even as a child, Edward was always studious of the time. Once he began interning for me, never has he let a moment pass that he is not at my complete and utter disposal. I can count on Ed for anything—and by anything, I mean anything. I need garbage taken out, he’s my man. I need delegates delicately handled, he’s my man. I need to set up a rendezvous with some willing piece, he’s my man. I need a situation permanently dealt with, he’s my man.

  I’m going to have to get to the bottom of this. The thought that he might be going rogue is a little worrisome. I pick up my phone again, this time dialing Regina’s desk. It dawns on me that she’s not here either but I let it ring anyway. Someone is going to pick up.

  “Regina’s desk, Audra speaking.”

  “Audra, I need you to send Mr. Cale in here, please. He’s one of the security men at the elevator. Thank you.” I hang up before she can say anything else.

  I turn on my computer and start going through emails while I wait on Mr. Cale to come into the room. I don’t finish the first email before I hear a slight rap at the door.

  “You requested me, sir?”

  Mr. Cale is a large man. Not in the portly sense, but he stands a head taller than most men and he is almost twice as wide. He could play the offensive line in football any day. Unfortunately for him, he’s good at his job, which means that he takes being lawful to the fullest extent and I can’t use him for anything other than legal matters. Shame, really.

  “Yes, Mr. Cale. I’m concerned about my intern, Edward Champlain. He’s not answered his phone in two days and he’s yet to come in. I even called his girlfriend and his parents. Could you head around to his house and make sure he’s alright? I hate to think that he’s been in some sort of accident and no one knows about it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ve sent his address to your phone in case you needed it. Also, because his building is secured”—I hand him a special badge from Ed’s homeowner’s association—“you’ll need this to get in without Edward verifying you to go up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Let me know what you find, Mr. Cale.”

  “I will, sir.” His voice is as dull as his face. Poor guy, I hope he has a personality to overcome his dryness.

  I check my calendar and notice there are four meetings set up. I’m not prepared for any of them, this is why I need Edward. He has all my notes and presentation materials for these meetings. I grab the phone and bark into it, “Wilcox!”

  “Yes, sir!” the man squeaks back. Fucking tool.

  “Cancel all my meetings today, including the one with Myrna. She will just have to get her interview another day or from someone else. I’m not in the mood for her gossip rag business today.”

  “Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” he stammers. I know the kid means well, but today, though starting out well, has turned to shit pretty quickly with Edward missing. I never realized before just how much I rely on him. That is going to have to change. I can see already that this is a weakness. One I can’t have exploited.

  I hang up and walk to Ed’s office. I rifle through the mail piling up on the desk. Af
ter a few moments of this, I sit in his chair to continue working. I separate his mail from mine first. I notice that Ed doesn’t get a lot of mail at work.

  I glance around his workspace. Now that I think about it, there’s not much of Ed in his workspace. The computer and desk and all the items on the desk are issued from the office. The nameplate is the only thing that would let anyone know that this office belongs to someone. There’re no photos of him and Maya or of him and Geoff. Nothing. He’s been here for years and there’s nothing in this room to show for it.

  That’s odd. I’m only just realizing how peculiar my intern is. One would think that this is something I would have noticed long ago, since I’ve known him since his parents brought him home from the hospital. Such trivial things never mattered before now, however.

  I continue to separate our mail and once that’s done, I start separating mine into piles of garbage to priority. The garbage I dump in the waste basket. The priority I start to open right in his office. The first couple are contributions from wealthy benefactors.

  Another is a request for a zoning permit. I don’t normally handle such things, but Douglas needs permission to build his hotel casino and since he did contribute almost a million dollars to my campaign already, I believe that stretch of land is available for his lucrative business. It means tearing down a couple of tenements, but they’ll find other places to live. They’re subsidized housing. The owner will need to be notified, but I’m certain there’s dirt on them and I’ll just use that to my advantage. Besides, the new business will bring in lots of revenue to Hartford, whereas the tenements are an eyesore.

  I spend an hour going through the mail before I manage to finish it all. Still no word from anyone. Not even Mr. Cale has gotten back to me. I growl in frustration. I'm not used to people not giving me what I want as soon as I ask. The last time I checked, I’m the fucking senator, for Christ’s sake.

  “Senator!” A breathless Wilcox skids to a stop in front of the office door.

  “Yes,” I reply, thinly veiling my irritation.

  “You have a call on line six. He says that it’s an urgent matter that you requested he look into.” His round cheeks are flushed, and his blue eyes wide. At any other time, I’d enjoy his infatuation, but today is not that day.

  “It’s always an urgent matter, Wilcox. I will need to know who it is.”

  “Oh…oh…yes,” he stammers, “it’s a Dr. Miller, sir. Pardon me for being forward, but I hope everything is okay with you, sir.”

  “Thank you, Wilcox. I’ll take the call in my office.”

  “Yes, sir.” He stands there a moment, then it’s obvious that he needs to move because he jerks his body to one side, then becomes flustered and walks in the other direction.

  I quickly make my way back to my office because Dr. Miller’s business with me is done. He got the thief and took care of her, came to me about my son, and I gave him information on Geoff. I wonder what this could be about, but one doesn’t ignore the call of Dr. Miller, even if you sign his paycheck.

  “Senator Wright here,” I manage as I sit down at my desk.

  “Senator Wright, this is Dr. Miller.”

  “Yes, how are you today, Doctor?”

  “I’m very well, thank you. I have the information that you requested, can you come in and see me in around an hour for the results?” His voice is always so expressionless. It’s actually quite unnerving.

  “Yes, I can do that. Thank you, Jack.” Even if I hadn’t already canceled my appointments, I would still readily agree to meet with Dr. Jack Miller.

  “Yes. See you soon, Senator.” He hangs up before I can respond, but that is his way.

  Several years ago, there was this man who believed himself a kingpin in Hartford. I can remember all the problems he caused for Timo Hauer, as well as for myself. Because of that asshole, I almost lost my election that year. Between Timo and I, we gathered enough intel and evidence that we could have put him away for a long time, but our methods weren’t exactly legal and because of the illegality of it all, he would have gotten away with it.

  If I remember correctly, his hot shot lawyer wasn’t from around here and was known to use the law to her advantage. She was and still is the personification of a shark. We were at a loss on how to secure his removal from Hartford. That’s where Dr. Miller came in.

  I remember reading about a study done on the human body and the element of pain. These tests were conducted on death row inmates and the lead researcher was a Dr. Lowell. The study’s methods were so horrendous that animal rights activists would have crawled into Dr. Lowell’s bowels and set up shop. But no one cares about the criminals. They earn their hell.

  It wasn’t Dr. Lowell, however, who made this study stand out, but the one conducting the tests. These tests required the individual to suffer through intense amounts of pain. The inmates weren’t allowed to die, but they had to all suffer, and it was the man who sat through interviews stoic, devoid of any emotional problems, that garnered my attention. The man who physically inflicted such pain without compunction, but simply because it was his job to do so. That man got my attention. That is how I met Dr. Jack Miller. It seemed the good doctor had a skill for extracting the best results with minimal emotional attachment.

  I approached Dr. Miller to perform a side job. This job would be to extract information from people to prevent worse harm befalling Hartford. He eventually agreed, the wannabe kingpin disappeared, and over the years the doctor has developed quite the reputation for himself. The crime rate has even gone down since I hired him.

  Right after the end of the wannabe kingpin, I was riding high and let it out that the Bee Keeper got him. One of the oddest things I’d learned about him through the vetting process was that he keeps bees. Who would think that someone who loves truth and can destroy a living, conscious human in the name of science gathers honey for a hobby? Since then, his notoriety and infamy have skyrocketed until he’s something whispered about in doorways. If there is anyone in Hartford who strikes fear into everyone, it’s Dr. Miller.

  Even me.

  I know I’m safe, he enjoys his pay too much. But just the whole idea of him turning his probing stare my way gives me a cold chill. I can never really tell what’s going on behind those glasses of his. Emotionally, he’s dead inside.

  If he has information for me, then that means that he’s gone through everything that he can go through and has his final report. He’s nothing if not thorough. I hurry about my business and I decide to hail a cab instead of calling Brigs. The less that know, the better.

  With no security detail and a ball cap with a leather waistcoat, I no longer look like “the senator” but rather another lawyer leaving the building. I jump into a waiting cab and give him the address for the Department of Science and Technology.

  What’s worrisome is that he has information for me. I simply asked him to find the briefcase which, due to his methods, would rid me of the thief and solve Junior’s car fiasco. I know where the documents are. Timo called me before the thief was sent to Dr. Miller. I could have called him, but then I’d still have this annoying situation to handle. Why not let him do his job and take care of two issues that I needed taking care of? Tit for tat, so to speak.

  The cab pulls up in front of the tech building and I step out. I have a certain level of pride in this building. I’m still upset that they don’t have my name on the cornerstone of it, but whatever. My legacy will still live on in the city of Hartford.

  The same receptionist that’s always there greets me. “Welcome to the Department of Science and Technology. How may I help you today?”

  She glances me over, recognition lighting her eyes. She’s a pretty woman but never has she given me any idea other than I’m strictly business as usual for her. This is both disconcerting as well as relieving. I’m used to people falling all over themselves to be helpful or to get my attention. But this woman so far seems unaffected by everyone.

  I glance at her name plate
. Elizabeth Perkins. I might have to steal her away from the lab geeks. She might be more beneficial than the current receptionist that I have. I’ll have Edward look into her when he ever deigns me important enough to call back.

  “Ms. Perkins, I’m here to see Dr. Miller.”

  She types on her keyboard. “I’m sorry, but Dr. Miller has no appointments today. What’s the nature of your bu—”

  I interrupt her before she could get further. “He called me today. Just call him, tell him that Geoff is here to see him.”

  She cocks an eyebrow at me. She does know who I am, I didn’t just imagine that. “Sure, I’ll call him, Geoff.”

  She picks up her phone and punches a few buttons. “Yes, Dr. Simons. This is Elizabeth in the lobby…Well, thank you. I need to speak to Dr. Miller. There’s someone here who has an appointment with him…Yes, it is unusual…Yes, I’ll hold…Thank you.” There’s a pause and she looks her manicure over. “Dr. Miller, Elizabeth here. There’s a Geoff here in the lobby, who says he has an appointment with you today. Okay…Yes, I will…You too, sir…Bye.”

  She looks back up to me, the smile on her lips not reaching her eyes. “He’ll be right down, sir. It’ll just be a moment; he’s finishing something up. He suggested that I take you to the waiting area, sir.” She stands, pulls off her headset, and smooths her skirt.

  “No, that won’t be necessary. I know where it is. Thank you, Ms. Perkins.” I wave her to sit back down.

  She tilts her head, sits down and pulls her headset back on, and starts typing away at the keyboard. I roam around the desk and stand behind her a moment, trying to see what she’s typing so diligently. It’s hard to tell at first so I move a little closer. It looks as though it’s a novel. And from the little bit that I can read, it’s one of those mom porn books. I have been with many women, and it is astounding the things that they find sexy. What do they know about great sex? They just lay there and enjoy it, we men have to do the work.