Ed Gorman: Blindside

I got out of my rental and walked over to the spot, the whipping wind proving a bitter foe determined to fight me. I’d seen one of those paranormal TV shows one beery night in which a female psychic claimed that she could contact a murdered person simply by standing on the place where he or she had been killed. A handy skill. If I possessed it all I’d have to do is call out Waters’ name and he could clue me in about what had really happened.

The back door of headquarters opened and a voice, tattered by the wind, said, ‘I knew you’d show up here tonight.’

‘I’m trying out a paranormal trick I saw on TV. I planted that thought in your mind.’

Kathy laughed. ‘You don’t really believe that stuff, do you?’

I started walking to her. ‘Not really. But you never know.’

When I got inside, she said, ‘I’ve got coffee on upstairs. He’s in his office screaming at people on the phone.’

‘Anybody I know?’

‘First he called Lucy. Now he’s yelling at his father. He blames him for sending you here. He seems to believe that everything was going fine until you showed up.’

She smelled of woman warmth, tender perfume, and faintly of bourbon. I wanted to kidnap her.

‘I may as well get it over with.’

I followed her exquisite shape up the stairs. She steered me into her office where she had one of those four-cup coffee brewers on a table near a stack of paperback novels. ‘Sometimes I just close the door and read. I need the escape. I put headphones on so I can’t hear anything. If something really goes wrong they pound on my door and I hear them.’ She handed me a cup of coffee. It smelled rich and good. ‘I get these beans at a boutique in Washington. I buy a three-month supply at a time.’

The first sip reminded me of why I enjoy coffee. In all the slush you get most of the time you start to forget how good it can be.

I could hear him bellering down the hall. Too far away to pick up the exact words but poor baby did not sound happy, that much was for sure.

‘You going to stick around for a while?’

A girly grin. ‘Where would I go? I have no other life. I’m in politics, remember?’

‘I’ll go talk to him and then we can go have some drinks.’

‘I’d like that. But the mood he’s in, I may have to take you to the ER.’

‘I’ll be fine, Mom.’ Then: ‘All right if I take this?’

‘Sure. Just bring the cup back. I only have four of those.’

By the time I reached Ward’s office there was silence. Easy to imagine Tom just hanging up on him at this hour. Ward was probably trying to figure out who to rag on next.

I knocked with knuckles and walked in before he could say anything.

When he saw me, he didn’t curse or shake his fist at me. He just smirked. ‘Well, well, the Angel of Death.’

‘Yeah, it’s pretty much all my fault, all right. I made you screw all those women in Washington and then hang out in a whorehouse about seventy miles from your hometown. And let’s not forget how I pushed you into screwing your best friend’s wife. That was genius on my part.’

‘Yeah, and what did the son of a bitch do to me? Put me on the spot tonight in front of the whole district. If he had a problem with me, he should’ve been man enough to face me instead of dressing up like a bum and trying to humiliate me.’

‘I see. You’re the victim, not David?’

‘Don’t give me any of that Oprah bullshit. You know damn well what I’m talking about. I’m trying to get re-elected. I’m fighting the good fight, in case you’ve forgotten. And I was doing all right until my old man forced me to work with you. Or haven’t you noticed that? You show up and everything goes to shit. You couldn’t even find out who was selling our secrets to Burkhart.’

I wasn’t about to hand Lucy over. ‘I admit it. I did a bad job with that part of it.’

‘You did a bad job period. Here I am working night and day while you’re messing up everything my old man promised me you’d fix. I’m the only pro here; I’m the only one who knows how to run a campaign.’

Yes, sleeping with your campaign manager’s wife is the mark of a true pro, all right. One thing about megalomaniacs, they rarely have a sense of humor. Or have any perspective about their actions. When I got here, he was running behind and he was being blackmailed. He’d been on a roll, no doubt about it. ‘Yeah, you were in great shape till I showed up.’

At this point he was wearing a black crew neck sweater and jeans. Cool dude. He shoved his hands into his pockets and smirked. ‘I see Kathy favored you with one of her coffee cups. She hates me so I don’t get any. Some staff, huh? David, Kathy, and Lucy all hate me.’

‘Gosh, and you’re so easy to love. Who woulda thunk it?’

But I’d pushed poor baby too far. He extracted his hands from his pockets. He used one of them to slam down on the desk he was standing next to. ‘What the hell’re you doing here? I’m sick of your face, I’m sick of your name, I’m sick of my old man telling me how good you are, and I’m sick of you undermining me.’

I finished the coffee and set the cup on a small table stacked with recent newspapers. I was as sick of him as he was of me. ‘I’m going to make this fast, asshole. So listen carefully. I think you’re going to win this one. It’ll be a squeaker but you’re going to win. Then you’ll go back to Washington and one month after the new House session starts, you’re going to announce that you won’t be running again.’

‘Oh, yeah, right, I’ll be real sure to do that.’

‘I’m told there’s a young guy in this district who has a lot of promise. A primary challenge would be messy and hurt his chances in the election. But when you make your announcement, he’ll have the time to start raising money and meet the people.’

No smirk; just scorn. ‘You’re out of your mind.’

‘If you don’t do this, I leak the DVD and you’ll be done anyway.’

He started around the desk but I was ready for him. When he came at me he was off balance so all I had to do was give him a shove. He landed in one of the comfortable chairs facing the desk, but he was anything but comfortable himself. He started cursing me with such fury that he didn’t take the time to make his curses coherent. Finally he snapped, ‘You’re blackmailing me, you son of a bitch.’

‘Right. And I’m getting the same message to Burkhart. If he runs again, the DVD gets fed to every TV station in the district. He’s CEO of a very big corporation. He couldn’t stand the heat.’

He began to rise from the chair. He looked surprised that I didn’t shove him back down. ‘You’ll never get away with this.’

‘Sure I will.’

‘Not after I tell my old man what you’re up to.’

‘When I tell him everything he’ll be on my side. He did something similar to this to one of his own clients years ago. He knows the turf.’

I walked back to the table and picked up my coffee cup. ‘It’s over, Ward. You’ve got one term left. Do it with a little class. You and your wife can still live in Washington and hang out in Georgetown or wherever’s hot at the moment. You can keep on screwing all the women you want and the press won’t care anymore. All you’ll have to worry about is pissed-off husbands.’

‘Listen to me, Conrad. Think this through. Burkhart can’t release the DVD because I’ll do the same to him. We’re in a stalemate. I’m protected. As long as you keep your mouth shut.’

‘No, we’re not protected, Ward. You’re the one who’s not thinking it through. Nobody knows how many copies of these DVDs are floating around out there. David and Mrs Burkhart hired a private detective to get the video. They didn’t know much about him. By now they could be all over the place. That’s how these things always work. You think you’re safe and suddenly some TV station has them on the six o’clock news. The party can’t risk that. You’re done.’ I looked straight at him. ‘And like I said, if you don’t announce that you won’t be running again, I feed the DVD to the press while our new candidate still has time to mount a good campaign.’