Дэвид Балдаччи - Absolute Power

Richmond barely made it to his chair. No one offered to assist him. He looked up at Frank.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. Burton left behind one other paper. It’s his proxy. For the next election. Sorry, but it seems you didn’t get his vote.”

One by one the Cabinet members got up and left. Fear of political suicide by association was alive and well in the Capital City. The lawmen and Secret Service agents followed. Only the President remained. His eyes stared blankly at the wall.

Seth Frank popped his head back in the door.

“Remember, be seeing you soon.” He quietly closed the door.

the seasons of Washington followed a familiar pattern, and a bare week of spring with tolerable temperatures and humidity under fifty percent gave way abruptly to a meteoric thermometer and a humidity level that routinely delivered a full body shower whenever you walked outside. By July, the typical Washingtonian had adapted as much as they were ever going to, to air that was difficult to breathe and movements that were never slow enough to prevent a sudden burst of perspiration under one’s clothing. But in all of that misery, the occasional evening was not ruined by the sudden materialization of a whipping, drenching thunderstorm with multiple branches of lightning that threatened to touch the earth with every explosion. Where the breeze was cool, the air sweet-smelling and the sky clear. Tonight was just such a night.

Jack sat on the edge of the pool set up on the building’s roof. His khaki shorts revealed muscled, tanned legs, hairs curled by the sun. He was even leaner than before, all remnants of office-induced flab banished by months of physical exertion. Cords of well-toned muscle sat just beneath the surface of his white T-shirt. His hair was short, his face as brown as his legs. The water swished between his bare toes. He looked at the sky and breathed deeply. The place had been packed a mere three hours ago as office dwellers dragged tan-free, fleshy bodies to the replenishing powers of the warm waters. Now Jack sat alone. No bed beckoned him. No ringing alarm would disturb his sleep the next morning.

The door to the pool opened with a slight squeak. Jack turned and saw the beige summer suit, wrinkled and uncomfortable-looking. The man carried a brown paper bag.

“Building super told me you were back.” Seth Frank smiled. “Mind some company?”

“Not if you’ve got what I think you’ve got in that bag.”

Frank sat down in a web chair and tossed a beer to Jack. They dinked cans and each man took a long pull.

Frank looked around. “So how was wherever you were?”

“Not bad. It was good to get away. But it’s also good to be back.”

“This looks like a nice place to meditate.”

“It gets crowded around seven for a couple of hours. Most of the other time it’s pretty much like this.”

Frank looked wistfully at the pool and then started to take off his shoes. “You mind?”

“Help yourself.”

Frank rolled up his pants, curled his socks into his shoes and sat down next to Jack, letting his milky-white legs sink into the water up to his knees.

“Damn that feels good. County detectives with three daughters and a mortgage out the ying-yang rarely come into contact with swimming pools.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Frank rubbed his calves and looked at his friend. “Hey, being a bum agrees with you. You might want to think about sticking with it.”

“I am thinking about it. The idea gets more appealing every day.”

Frank eyed the envelope next to Jack.

“Important?” He pointed at the paper.

Jack picked it up, briefly reread the contents. “Ransome Baldwin. Remember him?”

Frank nodded. “What, has he decided to sue you for dumping his baby?”

Jack shook his head and smiled. He finished his beer and fished in the bag and pulled out another cold one. He tossed a second one to Frank.

“You never know, I guess. The guy basically said I was too good for Jennifer. At least for right now. That she had a lot of growing up to do. He’s sending her out on some missionary duties for the Baldwin Charitable Foundation for a year or so. He said if I ever needed anything to let him know. Hell, he even said that he admired and respected me.”

Frank sipped his beer. “Damn. Doesn’t get much better than that.”

“Yes, it does. Baldwin made Barry Alvis his chief inhouse counsel. Alvis was the guy Jenn got fired at Patton, Shaw. Alvis promptly walked into Dan Kirksen’s office and pulled the entire account. I think Dan was last seen on the ledge of a very tall building.”

“I read where the firm closed its doors.”

“All the good lawyers got snapped up right away. The bad ones ought to try something else for a living. Space is already rented out. The whole firm gone, without a trace.”

“Well, same thing happened to the dinosaurs. It’s just taking a little longer with you attorney types.” He punched Jack in the arm.

Jack laughed. “Thanks for coming and cheering me up.”

“Hell, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Jack looked at him, his face clouded. “So what happened?”

“Don’t tell me you still haven’t been reading the papers?”

“Not for months. After the gauntlet of reporters, talk show hosts, teams of independent prosecutors, Hollywood producers and your run-of-the-mill curious person I’ve had to deal with I never want to know anything about anything. I changed my phone number a dozen times and the bastards kept finding it. That’s why the last two months have been so sweet. No one knew me from Adam.”

Frank took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Well, let’s see, Collin pled to conspiracy, two counts of second-degree murder, obstruction and a half-dozen assorted lesser included offenses. That was the D.C. stuff. I think the judge felt sorry for him. Collin was a Kansas farm boy, Marine, Secret Service agent. He was just following orders. Been doing that most of his life. I mean the President tells you to do something, you do it. He got twenty to life, which if you ask me was a sweetheart deal, but he gave a full account to the prosecution team. Maybe it was worth it. He’ll probably be out in time for his fiftieth birthday. The commonwealth decided not to prosecute in return for his cooperation against Richmond.”

“What about Russell?”

Frank almost choked on his beer. “Jesus, did that woman spill her guts. They must have spent a fortune on court-reporting fees. She just wouldn’t stop talking. She got the best deal of all. No prison time. Thousand hours of community time. Ten years’ probation. For fucking conspiracy to commit murder. Can you believe that? Between you and me, I think she’s right on the borderline sanity-wise anyway. They brought in a court-appointed shrink. I think she might spend a few years in an institution before she’s ready to come out and play. But I gotta tell you, Richmond brutalized her. Emotionally and physically. If half of what she said was true. Jesus. Mind games from hell.”

“So what about Richmond?”

“You really have been on Mars haven’t you? Trial of the millennium and you slept right through it.”

“Somebody had to.”

“He fought right to the end, I have to admit that. Must’ve spent every dime he had. The guy didn’t do himself any good testifying I can tell you that. He was so damn arrogant, obviously lying out his ass. And they traced the money wire straight back to the White House. Russell had pulled it from a bunch of accounts but made the mistake of assembling the five mil into one account before she wired it. Probably afraid if all of the money didn’t show up at the same time Luther would go to the cops. His plan worked, even if he wasn’t around to see it. Richmond didn’t have an answer for that or a lot of other things. They tore him up on cross. He brought in a Who’s Who of American Greatness and it didn’t help him one little bit, the sonofabitch. One dangerous and sick dude if you ask me.”