Roger Stelljes - The St. Paul Conspiracy

“Did a number on you. And so did his partner.”

The senator jumped back in his barstool, thought for a moment, cognizance dawning. He nodded. “Yeah, they did.” He lifted his glass and Lyman poured him another small drink. He slammed it. “What do we do now?”

Lyman gave his friend another long look. “They’ve got you nailed pretty good, my friend. Do we need to discuss the offer made upstairs?”

The senator gave Lyman a quizzical look. “You think I did this?”

Lyman ignored the pleading voice, his own voice deep, hard. “I’m asking you this once, do we take the deal?”

The senator didn’t hesitate. “I did not do this.”

Lyman gave him one last long look and decided he believed his friend. Even if he didn’t, so what? He was the lawyer. He now had a job to do and a big one at that. “Okay, then, my friend. First thing you’ll do is shut the fuck up.” He couldn’t say that to most clients. Mason was his friend, and he needed a serious dose of reality. He couldn’t act like a United States senator anymore. He needed to listen to, instead of give-hell ignore-direction. He’d also have to give some thought to giving up his seat, but that wasn’t Lyman’s call. That was one for the political people. Johnson just nodded, and Hisle continued. “I’m going to tell the detectives that we’re done.”

“They’re going to arrest me, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Soon. You were there that night. You admitted you had sex with her. And we learned a few more things.”

“Like?”

“No forced entry, nothing stolen, and, most importantly, time of death between 1:00 a.m. and 2:00 a.m.”

The senator pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we beat this?”

“Don’t know yet,” replied Lyman honestly. “We have a lot of work to do to create reasonable doubt.”

“Reasonable doubt?” growled Johnson. “Shit, reasonable doubt ain’t going to cut it. My career. Shit. My life is fucked if we don’t find who did this?”

“We’ll try, Mason.” Lyman replied.

“I’ve been fucking set up.”

“Like I said, we’ll try, but you better think about something else right now?”

“What’s that?”

“Gwen.”

They stepped outside, and Peters closed the door. Still standing on the steps, he took one long look at Lich and McRyan, smiled and stated, “Boys, that was good work in there.”

“Shit,” replied Lich, laughing out loud. “Mac, just so you know, I wouldn’t expect a Christmas card from the senator.”

Mac smiled. “No, I don’t imagine I’ll make the list.”

Peters chuckling along with his detectives, said, “Jesus Christ, Mac. ‘Your wife know you were fucking Daniels?’ I thought he was going to lunge across the table.”

They all shared a brief little laugh, and then Mac, back to business, said, “What’s next?”

“Well, much to your enjoyment, I’m sure,” replied Peters lightly, “you’ll be working with Sally Kennedy on writing up the summons and complaint.”

Mac wanted to say, “Fuck you,” but one didn’t respond that way to a captain. “You think we’re ready to go?”

“Yeah, I do.” Peters was going to say something else, but looked beyond the two of them out to the road, “Ahh, shit.”

Viper had followed them out from St. Paul. Once they’d reached Hisle’s, he’d scoped out his current position, half a mile away, standing in a park on the bluff, two-hundred feet above. There were swing sets, slides and sandboxes all over, abandoned since kids were in school and the cool weather of November had rolled in. He was by himself, looking down from the bluff with a pair of high-test binoculars. He would have been able to look inside Hisle’s house if the shades weren’t drawn.

Once he found his spot, he made the call. The boss wanted the heat turned up and fast. The first call was to Channel 12 and then to Daniels’ Channel 6. Once the call was placed, it took the Channel 12 news truck forty-five minutes to get out to Stillwater. Just as he saw the truck coming out of downtown Stillwater, he’d seen the detectives walk out the front door. He was briefly concerned, would the media miss them? No. They weren’t leaving. Rather they were loitering around in front. The one Viper had learned was named Peters was standing on the front steps, facing him while McRyan’s and Lich’s backs were turned. Peters had a smile on his face, and it looked like the group was enjoying a laugh. Things must have gone well inside. Viper moved his head to the right and down slightly, picking up the van as it pulled up. He looked back up to Peters, and saw his smile vanish when the news van pulled up. He could read Peters’s lips, and while his smile may have vanished, a small one creased Viper’s face.

The front door opened, and Viper saw Hisle look out. Hisle saw the news van as well, and a grim look overtook his face. The detectives and Hisle went back in the house. The Channel 6 van pulled up just then. A reporter and cameraman got out. All four of them stood around talking, waiting for something to happen. They didn’t have to wait long.

Hisle carefully closed the front door before he turned to the three men. “When did they get here?”

“They just pulled up,” Peters replied.

“I guess it was inevitable,” said Hisle, and then a little suspiciously, “How do you suppose they found out?”

Peters gave Lich a little look. Did you talk? Lich gave a little shake of his head. No. “I don’t know, Lyman. They didn’t follow us, we made sure. I don’t know how they found out.”

Lyman shrugged. It was all going to come out anyway. “What will you say on the way out?”

“I assume that means we’re done?” asked Mac.

“Yes, it does. You’ll do what you have to do. Again, what will you say to the media?”

“For now, nothing,” replied Peters. “But we’ll be charging the senator, and that’ll be news. I’m sure the department and district attorney’ll have something to say.”

“I imagine so,” said Hisle with a wry smile. “I can’t imagine Helen Anderson missing time in front of the camera.”

Everyone shared a knowing smile. With that, the three of them left. Mac took the circular drive back out towards the main road. The media were standing in the middle of the road. As he pulled up, Peters let his window down from the back seat. The blond reporter was from Channel 12. Mac had seen her many times but couldn’t remember her name, Polly something or other. She stuck her microphone inside. “So what are you doing out here, is Senator Mason Johnson a suspect?” she asked.

No we’re out here enjoying the fall colors, Mac thought.

“We have no comment right now,” replied Peters.

Channel 6, a brunette, yelled, “Will you be arresting Senator Johnson?”

A better question , thought Mac.

“Again, we have no comment right now. You can contact Sylvia Miller later today. She’ll have something to say.” With that Peters put his window back up, and they pulled away, heading back towards St. Paul. The media futilely yelled questions at the Explorer as they drove off.

The media was waiting for them when they got back to St. Paul at 5:00 p.m. Mac understood the attention that was coming. This was a big story: a United States senator implicated in the murder of a news reporter. It was going national as a story and would turn into a circus before all was said and done. Mac had called Sally on the way in to let her know what had happened. They would be working late he thought.

Once back they headed up to Chief Flanagan’s office. Sylvia Miller met them in the hallway. They knocked and headed in.