The first thing Clay did, while Tom Carver got dressed, was to cover the poor girl’s naked body with a sheet. He checked for a pulse and felt how cold she was and agreed she was dead.
“What room is that kid in?” Clay asked Sonja.
Even though he had not identified him by name, Sonja knew exactly who he meant. She opened up the folio she always carried with her, looked over a list of names and room numbers until she found it.
“820,” she told him.
“Okay,” Clay replied. “Mrs. Carver and I are going down to find him and talk to him. You stay here and get the governor out of here, in the car and on his way to Iowa as if nothing happened,” he said to Sonja.
“All right,” both women said.
“Let’s go,” he said to Darla.
In the hallway, Clay assured the agents – there were now five of them – that the governor would be ready to go in a few minutes. A moment later, Clay pushed the down button for the elevator and looked at the lighted numbers while they waited for the car.
“What do you think?” Darla quietly asked him.
“I think we planned for something like this and we’ll make it work,” Clay replied without looking at her.
There was something reassuring about Clay’s strength and certainty for Darla. She also realized what a relief it was to have someone with her to take care of her husband’s problems. Tom Carver could be a one-man wrecking crew. But he was an almost perfect candidate. He was going to be president and so was Darla Carver.
The two of them stepped off the elevator on the eighth floor and followed the wall sign to 820. Clay knocked a couple of times and a few seconds later, a young man opened the door. Shocked to see who it was he could barely stutter a coherent hello.
“Billy,” Clay said with a smile, “mind if we come in? We need to talk to you about something.”
“Yes, certainly. Good morning Mrs. Carver. Please, take a seat,” the young man said as he backed into his room.
“Good morning, Billy,” Darla pleasantly replied. This startled the young campaign worker since he did not believe she even knew his name.
Darla and Clay took the two available chairs at a small table. Billy sat on the bed anxiously waiting for one of them to speak.
Billy Stover was a recent graduate of Colorado State with a degree in political science and a minor in communications. A family connection had placed him as a volunteer for Carver’s campaign the day the committee was formed. Clay Dean had spotted him early on as a gullible kid who might come in handy for a situation such as the one they had on their hands this morning. Clay convinced Darla, who readily agreed, and Stover was put on as a full-time, paid staffer.
“Let me ask you something, if I may,” Darla began. “Do you believe in my husband?”
“Of course,” Billy quickly, and earnestly replied.
“No, I mean, do you, in your heart, really believe and have no doubt that Thomas Carver not only could be elected president, but for the good of America, the country we love, should be the next president?”
Stover leaned forward, folded his hands together as if in prayer and said, “Down to my soul, Mrs. Carver. He is a great man and will be a great president.”
“What would you do to help make that happen?” Darla quietly asked.
“Anything in my power,” Stover sincerely said.
“We have a problem, Billy,” Clay interjected. “There’s no good way to tell you this so, I’ll just give you the straight, truthful version.”
Clay leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands folded reverently together and looked the young man directly in his eyes. Billy also leaned forward so the two of them were barely three feet apart.
“A young woman, apparently infatuated with the governor, somehow snuck into his room last night. She was obviously hoping to somehow seduce the governor, so we think. Anyway,” he continued, “the governor did not stay in that room. In fact, we were only using it for meetings. As usual, he spent the night with Mrs. Carver in her room. This morning when they went to his room, they found this girl in the governor’s bed.” He paused and looked down at the floor and lightly sobbed before continuing. “Billy, it was terrible. The poor girl was dead. It looks like a drug overdose.”
“Oh, my God!” Billy said. He straightened up, sat back and lightly bit down on a knuckle he had put in his mouth. “How horrible. But I don’t understand. What can I do to help? Shouldn’t we call the police?”
Before Clay could reply Darla lightly placed her left hand on Clay’s shoulder and said, “Billy, you have to understand something. Even though the governor wasn’t there all night and the girl was alone, well, you know what jackals the media people are. This campaign would be over. He would never become president.”
“The same thing happened to Ted Kennedy only Governor Carver is absolutely innocent,” Clay said.
“I remember learning about what happened to Senator Kennedy,” Billy said. “What can I do? I’ll do anything to help Governor Carver. He’s a great man and whatever I can do to help him become president, I’ll do. Anything,” he repeated with emphasis.
That’s what we were counting on, Darla thought while suppressing a smile.
Darla’s phone rang, she looked at it, smiled slightly at Billy and said, “Clay will explain what must be done. I need to take this call.”
The phone call was from her shadow, Sonja Hayden. While Clay told Billy what they wanted, Darla went into the bathroom to take the call.
Sonja quickly filled her in. Tom Carver was in the Escalade and on his way to Des Moines. He would arrive by noon for the luncheon and in plenty of time for the day’s scheduled campaign events. Darla could catch up with him later.
“Okay, that’s done. Now this will be the tricky part,” Clay said to Darla, Sonja and Billy. They were all back in Tom’s suite on twelve.
Clay had explained to the young staffer exactly what they needed to do. At first Billy was unsure if he could do it for fear he would end up in jail. Darla assured him he would be provided with top-notch lawyers and if he did do some time, he would be well compensated and eventually pardoned by President Carver after the election.
“I’m worried about my mom,” Billy told them. “She has cancer and….”
“She’ll get the best care money can buy,” Darla assured him.
That promise was all it took. Billy was in.
Clay had commandeered two empty serving carts he had found on another floor. They had pushed them together and carefully placed the naked dead girl on them on her stomach precisely as she had been on the bed. Sonja and Clay then covered her with a sheet.
“Sonja, you go get an elevator and hold it. Billy, you and I are going to wheel her down to your room and place her in your bed. Mrs. Carver, you go back to your room and wait for us,” Clay said.
Ten minutes later now back in room 820 with the girl laid out on Billy’s bed as she had been upstairs, a barely breathing Billy said to Clay, “I’ve never been so scared. How do you stay so calm?”
“Practice,” Clay replied.
Clay took a step back and looked over the girl. Satisfied she was lying exactly as she had been found, he told Billy to get rid of the carts and the sheet from Tom’s room.
“Take the carts down to another floor then come back here,” Clay said.
“Are you going to call the police?”
“Yes, we need to do that,” Clay replied. He placed a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder and said, “Just stick to your story. Don’t make it any more complicated than that. I’ll make sure they find the drugs and the bottle will have her prints on it. There’s a good chance you won’t even be charged with anything. It was an accident. Remember,” he said solemnly looking directly into Billy’s eyes, “you’re doing a great service for your country.”
Billy took a deep breath, puffed out his chest and said, “You’re right, I am. I’ll keep that in mind. Let’s go.”
br /> Dennis Carstens, [Marc Kadella 06.0] Delayed Justice
[Marc Kadella 06.0] Delayed Justice Page 40