John Sandford - Silken Prey

“But why did he come to you, specifically, rather than speak to Rose Marie Roux or Henry Sands?” Lockes asked.

“Because speed was required. Urgently required. The governor was familiar with my work, and once he decided to move, he informed Rose Marie, who informed Henry, and he talked to me, all within a very short period of time. I’m not sure of the exact sequence there.”

Dunn asked, “Do you routinely take political assignments directly from the governor?”

“No. And I object to that characterization,” Lucas snapped. “The governor realized that a crime had been committed and that an important election could be affected by it.”

“He didn’t know that a crime had been committed,” Dunn said.

“Of course he did,” Lucas said. “If Senator Smalls was knowingly in possession of child pornography, then he’d committed a crime. If somebody planted the pornography on Senator Smalls, then a different crime had been committed. It had to be one or the other, so the crime was there. As a senior agent of the BCA, he asked me to find out the truth of the matter, and as rapidly as possible, with the least amount of bureaucratic involvement, in an effort to resolve this before the election. I’d emphasize that he was looking for the truth, not just to clear Senator Smalls. It’d be far better for the governor’s party if Smalls was guilty: it would give them an extra Senate seat in a very tight political situation.”

Lockes said tentatively, “There’s been some mention of possible involvement by the Minneapolis Police Department.”

Lucas shook his head. “That’s purely conjecture at this point.” He explained about what appeared to be an evidentiary photograph among the rest of the pornography.

“And this could tie in to the disappearance of Mr. Tubbs,” Lockes said.

“Again, conjecture at this point,” Lucas said.

“But if there’s anything to all of this, if Tubbs doesn’t show up somewhere . . . then we’re talking about a murder.”

Lucas nodded: “Yes. I’m treating it as a murder investigation.”

Dunn started to jump in. “If the governor asked—”

Lockes held up a hand to stop him, then said to Lucas: “You’re a busy man, with a murder out there. You better get back to it.”

Lucas stood and said, “Thanks. I do need to do that.”

And was gone.

• • •

HE CALLED THE GOVERNOR, outlined his testimony, and Henderson said, “Lockes told me he was going to wind it up today. Your computer pals are testifying later this afternoon, and that should be it. I don’t know what he’s planning to do, but after talking to me and Smalls, I suspect he smells dogshit on his shoe. If he wants to run for this office in two years, he doesn’t need both me and Smalls on his ass. He’s gonna have to get through a primary.”

“What about Smalls? Could he be a problem?”

“No. He owes us big, and he knows it, and Porter does pay his bills,” the governor said. “If it turns out Tubbs did it to him . . . well, Tubbs is probably dead. Not much blood to be wrung out of that stone, even if he wanted to.”

“Is he going to win the election?”

“Neil says no—but I’m not sure. Porter’s always been pretty resilient. On the other hand, his opponent is pretty hot, has an ocean of money, and a lead, with momentum. Not much time left. So . . . we’ll see,” Henderson said. “By the way . . . do you know her? Have you interviewed her?”

“No, I’ve never met her,” Lucas said. “Seen her on TV.”

“She’d be the main beneficiary, of course, if Smalls went down.”

“I’ll be talking to her, unless something else breaks before I get there,” Lucas said. “Today, I’ve got one more of Smalls’s staff members to interview, and I need to talk to my computer people about their testimony. Make sure everything is okay.”

“Stay in touch,” Henderson said.

• • •

THE AFTERNOON was like walking through tar: Lucas tracked down and interviewed the last of Smalls’s volunteer staff, and the interview produced nothing. He talked to ICE and Kidd after their testimony, and learned that it had been perfunctory. He talked again with both Rose Marie and the governor, and updated Morris on the state of his investigation.

“That’s not much of a state,” Morris said when he was finished. “Investigation-wise, that’s like the state of Kazakhstan.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucas said.

“What’s next on the menu?”

“Dinner. It’s just nice enough outside to barbecue. The housekeeper’s out there now with ten pounds of baby-back ribs, sweet corn from California, honey-coated corn bread, baked potatoes with sour cream and butter, and mushroom gravy.”

“You sadistic sonofabitch,” Morris said. “I already finished my celery.”

CHAPTER 10

Taryn Grant wore cotton pajamas at night, and had just gotten into them, in a dressing room off the hallway in her bedroom suite, a few minutes before midnight, when she heard—or maybe felt—footsteps on the wooden floor coming down to the bedroom. The security people were the only others in the house, and weren’t welcome in her bedroom wing.

Something had happened, or was happening. She took down the Japanese kimono that she used as a robe, pulled it over her shoulders, and headed toward the door, just as the doorbell burped discreetly. She pressed an intercom button: “Yes?”

“It’s me, Doug. I need to talk with you.”

She popped the door and nodded down the hall: “In the sitting room.”

“Yes,” he said, and led the way.

The sitting room had three big fabric chairs arrayed around a circular table; the walls were in the form of a five-eighths dome—as though a big slice had been taken out of an orange—and kept their voices contained.

“What happened?” she asked, as she settled into a chair facing him.

“I talked with our source at the AG’s office. The police unraveled how Tubbs set up the computer, and they’ve tied his disappearance to the porn. I’ve got a lot of details, if you want to hear them, but the main thing is, the police will probably want to interview you, since you had the most to gain from the porn attack. You’ll need to figure out a response. The guy coming to interview you will probably be this Davenport, who I told you about.”

“Give me the details,” she said. “All of them. I’ll forget them later.”

Dannon spent twenty minutes on the briefing, reviewing what had happened that day at the attorney general’s office, and the results so far of investigations by Davenport and a St. Paul homicide cop named Morris. “We’ve had one piece of great good luck: when they found Tubbs’s hideout spot, there was no mention of the porn or any dirty tricks, other than the porn file itself. They did find some cash, and it may have been from us, but we were careful there, and it’s untraceable.”

When he was done, Taryn asked, “The fact that you talked to this guy at the AG’s office, could that come back to us?”

“No, I don’t think so—not in a way that could hurt us,” Dannon said. “I left the impression that we were desperate to work out the political implications of what was going on, this close to the election. Of course, when he took the money, he was technically committing a crime, so he won’t be inclined to talk.”

“Unless he suddenly starts feeling guilty,” Taryn said.

“Not a problem with this guy,” Dannon said. “He believes he’s on the side of Jesus, helping us beat Smalls. He knows taking the money was a crime of some kind, but he doesn’t think he’s really done anything wrong. He sees the money more as compensation for his time. A consultation fee.”

“Amazing how that works,” Taryn said.