Deadly Politics (23 page)

Aggie had been working these Georgetown parties for years. She'd worked for my parents' parties, Dave's and mine, and she was still working. That was a lot of politicians over the years. I recalled something Aggie said to me the first week I returned to Washington. A comment about her “Cuban boyfriend.”

Aggie offered wines to a nearby group of chattering congressmen, then headed my way. “I've got one Pinot Blanc left, Molly.”

“I'm good, Aggie. Thanks, anyway.” A crazy idea had come into my head suddenly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” She settled into a comfortable stance, tray on her shoulder.

“You've been working these political parties for a lifetime. Most of them in Georgetown, right?”

“Mostly. But I also work in other areas of the city, as well as Virginia and Maryland, too. Wherever the parties are.” She cocked her head to the side. “What are you asking, Molly?”

I felt her warm gaze settle on me, and I tried to appear as innocent as possible. Always a struggle for me. “I was simply wondering if you knew if there are any surveillance cameras located along Georgetown streets or security groups watching the neighborhoods. You know, since there are so many diplomats and politicians living here and all that.”

A slow smile started. “There are all sorts of groups that work Washington. You know that, Molly. They've always been here. I've heard it said there are more spies per square foot in Washington, D.C., than any other city in the world.”

Since Aggie had opened that door, I decided to walk right through it. “My father told me that CIA spooks were all over Georgetown parties years ago.”

Aggie kept her smile, but made no reply.

So, I decided what the hell. “Are you a spook, Aggie?” I sent her an engaging smile of my own.

Aggie's eyes lit up. “Who, me? Do I look like a spy? They're all tall, dark, and handsome, aren't they?” she replied as she backed away into the congressional clusters once more.

I recognized a non-denial denial when I heard one. Finishing off my wine, I was about to resume my stroll when Luisa approached.

“The colonel is in the kitchen, Molly. He says not to hurry, he's early.”

I glanced at my watch. 9:25. Time for the last act of today's bizarre drama to play itself out. I drained my glass and followed after Luisa.

Twenty-one

The lobby of Jed's
New Hampshire Avenue apartment building was about what I expected. A nice but not fancy condo with secured entry. Guests had to be buzzed in. Exiting the elevator at the fourteenth floor, Danny and I located Jed's apartment only a few feet down the hallway.

Danny raised his hand to knock, then paused, glancing back at me. “Ready?”

“Let's do it.”

Not entirely sure why Jed wanted to see me, I figured he probably hoped to make one last attempt to convince me not to involve the police. Beg me not to reveal his involvement. Plead with me to think of his family.

But I was way past the point where whining, begging, or pleading could affect me. As for Jed's family, he should have thought of them himself. Before he began his affair with Karen. Jed Molinoff's conscience wasn't my concern. Catching Karen's killer was.

There was no answer to Danny's knock at first, then the door opened. Jed Molinoff stood in the opening, staring at us for a second. He looked haggard, and his eyes were red. “Come in, come in,” he beckoned us inside with a choppy wave of his hand.

Following Jed into his living room, I glimpsed the gorgeous view of the city through the balcony door. A briefcase sat open, and papers were strewn across the dining room table in the corner. A nearly empty bottle of Scotch and half-filled glass sat on the coffee table.

Jed sank into the sofa and reached for his glass. “Sit down,” he waved toward the nearby chairs.

“No, thanks, Jed. We won't be staying long,” I said, watching him take a drink. I waited for him to say something else, but he didn't reply. He took another drink instead. “As I said in my email, I'll give you until tomorrow morning to go to the police and tell them what you know before I take the photos to Detective Schroeder.”

Jed leaned forward, his arms resting on his legs as he stared at the glass in his hands. He didn't answer.

I waited for him to start to wheedle or plead or even cry. But nothing. He just sat there. Finally I said, “Do you understand me, Jed?”

This time he nodded. “Yeah I'll go,” he said in a soft voice.

His abrupt capitulation caught me off guard, and I just stood there, watching him for a moment. “You saw something, didn't you, Jed?”

Again, he didn't look up; he simply nodded. “Yeah. I saw a guy pass me on the sidewalk after I left the car.” He took another drink. “Afraid to tell.” This time he drained the glass and reached for the bottle.

Watching Jed pour another half-glass of Scotch, I glanced at Danny, whose face registered the same surprise I felt. Something had happened to reawaken Jed Molinoff's conscience. And for that, I was shocked and grateful. But I'd still be checking Detective Schroeder's office at noon tomorrow to see if Jed showed up as promised.

“That's a good decision, Jed,” I offered. “It'll be better if you approach the police first.”

Jed kept staring at the glass of Scotch. Then his voice came softly. “I'm sorry about Karen.”

That took me aback, and I waited another full minute in case he ventured another comment. When he didn't, I started backing away. Jed removed his cell phone from his pocket and was dialing. Danny and I headed to the door and let ourselves out.

We walked to the elevator without a word. As the elevator doors closed and the motor's hum started on the downward motion, we looked at each other.

“That was weird,” Danny said.

“I confess, I never expected him to admit it quickly. I mean, he didn't plead with me once.”

“You had him by the balls, Molly,” Danny said with a wry smile as the doors opened onto the lobby once more. “Molinoff knew you weren't going to cut him any slack.”

I shook my head, still surprised. “I guess.”

Danny pushed the heavy glass entry door open. “I know a good coffee shop down the avenue. I could use some right now, but I'd advise you to get decaf.”

_____

I cupped both hands around my hot chocolate. “I'm still amazed how submissive Jed was. All confrontation gone.” I took a sip of the rich chocolately milk. Hot and sweet.

Danny hunched over his empty cup. “Think about it. His political career is over. There's proof he lied to the police in a murder investigation. That's bad enough. But when the reason he lied comes out, that's it. He's road kill. And the press will eat it up.”

Danny's dramatic description was brutal but on target. The media vultures that hovered in the trees, watching and waiting, would swoop down and remove all traces of Jed. They'd scour the pavement clean.

I stared through the coffee shop window beside us in silence. Several couples hurried along the sidewalk, talking animatedly. “His apology caught me by surprise.”

“He owed you one. You're still taking those photos to the detective, right?”

Two guys ran past the window. I noticed a couple pointing down the street and talking to another couple. “Yeah. I'll go over at noon.”

A siren's wail sounded in the distance then grew louder, coming closer. A police cruiser shot by. Two couples dressed in workout clothes ran past on the sidewalk outside. More people appeared across the street.

“Something's up,” Danny observed, staring out the window.

A college-aged couple entered the shop then, and a man sitting at the table beside us called out to them. “Hey, what's with the sirens and cops?”

“A guy jumped out of a building down the street,” the young man said, pointing in the direction where Danny and I had been. “Right off the balcony.” He made a diving gesture with his hands. “
Blam!”

His girlfriend made a face. “It was
gross!”

The guy shrugged before they headed to the counter. Danny and I glanced at each other, then bolted for the door.

Twenty-two

I sat at my
kitchen table, drinking my first mug of coffee for the day, while I stared at the newspaper headlines again.
Nebraska congressman's chief of staff leaps to death. Confesses in suicide note. Killed ex-lover to keep her from revealing illicit affair. Lied to police. Covered up involvement in Hill staffer's murder in Georgetown
. And on and on. I'd read every article over and over. I couldn't read another word.

The garish bold-face headlines and sidebar stories highlighted the soap-opera details of the tragic story and blew them out of proportion. Made the people involved into caricatures, not real human beings. And they called that “reporting.”

But standing on the sidewalk last night outside Jed Molinoff's condo building, the details were all too real. Real people had died in this tragedy. Not cartoon caricatures nor tabloid newspaper creations. Karen was killed. Now, Jed's family had lost a husband and a father. Even Celeste's accidental death wouldn't have occurred if she hadn't been forced to leave Washington. The losses kept mounting.

I pushed the paper away and went to stand by the window to finish my morning coffee. Enjoy the blooms on the new azaleas and lilacs I had planted. I needed some beauty to balance the ugliness.

Jed's confession shocked me. I couldn't believe the headline when I first read it. Never had that possibility entered my mind.
Jed?
Jed Molinoff was a weak and weasely coward, yes. But a killer? That picture wouldn't come into focus.

My cell phone rang and I recognized Danny's number flashing. “You've seen the paper, right?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah. And it's hard to believe. I never thought Jed could kill Karen. How could he do that?”

“Maybe he just snapped. Fear does strange things to us all. It twists and distorts. Last night we couldn't understand why Jed killed himself rather than confess he'd concealed information. Now, we know why. Molinoff was guilty of murder. And the thought of prison was too much. He panicked.”

Danny's explanation made as much sense as anything that had surfaced from the quagmire of my own mind.

“Did you sleep at all after I took you home?” he asked.

“Fitfully. Weird dreams kept waking me up.”

“That's understandable. Last night was pretty traumatic. We were the last ones to see Jed alive.”

“You know, there are other things that keep bothering me, darting in and out of my head like they did last night.”

“What's bothering you, Molly?”

“Ohhhh, stuff like the gun. I remember Schroeder saying that the gun used to kill Karen was a 9mm Glock. Why would Jed buy a gun like that? It's…it's just weird.”

“It sounds like he planned it to me. As for the gun, if he bought it on the underground market then he'd take whatever the dealer offered him. And dumping it in the Bay was the smartest way to get rid of it. No way it would be found.”

I pictured Jed taking his cabin cruiser out into the normally tranquil waters of Chesapeake Bay. Tossing the gun overboard along with the memories of all those weekend trysts with Karen. Cold-hearted didn't come close.

“Yeah, you're right, I guess.”

“Anything else on your mind?” Danny asked when I'd been quiet for a minute.

“Yeah. Why did he write his suicide note on the computer? It's the last thing anyone will see of him. Wouldn't he write a suicide note by hand?”

“I don't know. I've never tried to kill myself. Maybe he was so scared his hand was shaking.”

“Maybe so.” I drained the last of my coffee and checked my watch. “Gotta get to the office. I'll call you later.”

“Better idea. Why don't we go out to dinner?”

That
was
a better idea. “Sounds good. Why don't you pick me up here around five thirty.”

“Got it. I'll find a special place. Someplace quiet and peaceful.”

I flipped off my phone, slipped on my fuschia red suit jacket, and headed out the door. Quiet and peaceful? I'm not sure I knew what that was anymore.

_____

“Hey, Striped Kitty, don't you have a home?” I called to the huge tabby sunning himself on the bricks edging my upper flowerbed.

Kitty answered with his usual lazy meow, not bothering to move. Wherever he belonged, Striped Kitty had taken up residence beside the flowerbeds every day. He greeted me every late afternoon when I walked home from the Russell mansion.

I raced up the wrought iron steps and paused on my doorstep while I dug for my keys. A car door slammed nearby and Danny's voice called out. “Perfect timing.”

“Hey, there. Let me check the mail and we can go,” I said, slipping the key in the lock.

“No hurry. How'd everyone take the news?” Danny asked as he approached.

“Everyone was shocked. Senator Russell stopped by my office before he headed for the Hill. Peter was really shaken. He'd met Jed while working for a California congressman years ago. Albert and Luisa couldn't believe it. Casey, well, he's like you—cool, calm, and collected.” I gave him a grin as he walked up the steps.

“Casey and I have just learned how to keep it from showing, that's all.” Danny followed me inside the house.

His comment reminded me of something I'd thought about earlier today as I was trying to concentrate on emails and financial transactions while juggling phone calls and messages from acquaintances expressing their shock at hearing the news. Somewhere in the midst of all those condolences it occurred to me that I'd finally found closure on Karen's death.

Now, I could turn to the future and look ahead at last.
What lay ahead?
I wasn't entirely sure. But there was one intriguing possibility standing right in front of me. But first …

I bent to scoop up the mail that lay scattered around the hallway floor near the mail slot. “Casey volunteered to take the photos to Detective Schroeder for me so I could stay and handle all the messages of sympathy that poured in.”

“See? You've only been here six weeks, and you've made friends already,” he teased, fetching a larger envelope that had fallen to the side. “Here you go.” He handed it to me.

I sorted through the letters in my hand as I walked down the hall. Reading the return address on the large envelope, I saw that it was from Celeste. I fingered the envelope and felt the small object inside. She said she'd mail me the last flash drive.

A chilly feeling rippled over my skin. It was spooky receiving mail from a person who had recently died so violently. But then several people had died violently lately. I tossed the package along with the letters onto my coffee table.

Danny leaned against the archway between the living room and hallway. “I've picked out a great place. Delicious food. Soft lights, private corner booths, superb wines.”

I slipped off my red jacket and tossed it on a chair. The walk from the senator's house was hot. May was on our doorstep and ready to bring her bosom companions—heat and humidity. I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my white silk blouse as I strolled across the living room.

“Good food. That's a start. How's the coffee?”

“You gonna keep going with that, because it's starting to get interesting.” He pointed to my blouse.

I returned Danny's devilish grin. “You didn't answer. How's the coffee?”

“You're distracting me. Coffee's good, but not as great as the wine.”

“No wine for us tonight, Danny.” I unbuttoned one cuff of my blouse and rolled the sleeve up to my elbow.

He stared at me. “You're kidding.”

“Nope. Just food and coffee.” I rolled up the other sleeve. “We have a lot of talking to do, so we'll keep eating and drinking coffee until they throw us out.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. How late is that place open?”

“Late. What is it you want to talk about?”

I walked up to him, hands on hips, then looked into his eyes. “I want you to start with the day after high school graduation and start talking. I want to hear everything up to now. Where you've been, what you've done, everything.”

“I thought we already did that the first time we talked.”

“Bits and pieces. This time I want it all. Full disclosure.”

He stared at me solemnly. “Believe me, you don't want to hear it all.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Why?”

I held his gaze. “These last few weeks you've learned more about me than my oldest friends. You've seen me enraged, vengeful, protective, and everything in between. I'm feeling very exposed right now. If this relationship is going to continue, then I need to hear more from you.”

Danny stared into my eyes for a full minute, and I let him see within. He glanced away for a second, then gave me a crooked smile. “Full disclosure, huh?”

“You got it, Squad Leader.”

“That's gonna take a long time.”

“We'll stay up all night if we have to. That's why no wine. No drinks. Just food and coffee. If that place throws us out, we'll find an all-night diner.”

“You're relentless, you know that.”

“It's one of my few virtues.”

Danny laughed softly and proceeded to loosen his tie. Sliding it off, he shoved it into his jacket pocket. “Okay, corporal, grab your gear and let's go.”

I went to retrieve my purse from the coffee table, and another memory shot from the back of my mind. An old memory. An old secret. It was time to reveal it.
Full disclosure
. I turned to join Danny at the door. He already had it open.

“You know I lied. To everyone,” I said as I slowly walked across the room.

“Lied about what?” he asked, watching me.

“About coming back to Washington.”

“What do you mean?”

I paused in front of him. “I told everyone that I'd never returned to Washington after Dave's death. Never set foot in the city. The closest I got was standing beside my father's grave in Arlington National Cemetery, looking across the Potomac.” I stared out the open front door into the golden spring sunshine. “But that wasn't true. I did come back into the city. Just once. It was in 1985 after The Wall was placed near Lincoln Memorial. I went over one morning when I came home to see family. I told them I was going to check nursing homes for my father, but I drove across Memorial Bridge instead. It was April, and it was raining lightly. I started at one end of The Wall and went all the way around. Reading every name. Searching to see if yours was there.” I looked back at Danny, saw the effect of my words on his face. “I needed to know.”

Danny gazed at me for a long moment without saying a word. Then he reached over and placed his arm around my shoulders, pulling me beside him as we walked through the door. As we stepped outside into the late afternoon sunshine, he pressed his lips against my forehead in a warm kiss.

_____

Raymond stood beside the expanse of windows that looked out over Washington. This high up, he could see Pennsylvania Avenue stretch from the Old Post Office all the way to the Capitol. The Mall and monuments lay spread out in the distance. Twilight was fast approaching, and several streetlights had already blinked into life. He sipped the thirty-year-old Scotch and savored its golden heat on his ragged throat.

“Smooth enough for you?” the man's deep voice sounded behind him.

“Ohhh, yeah.” Raymond turned from the compelling view and rejoined his companion in the corner of the luxurious office. He sank into a buttery-soft black leather chair, then took another sweet sip of nectar.

“A case of the Scotch will be delivered to your door tomorrow.” The silver-haired man held up his glass. “Congratulations, Raymond, on another excellent disposition. You've never let us down. We appreciate that.” He took a sip of Scotch, flashing a large diamond and ruby ring.

Raymond lifted his glass, returning the toast. “And I appreciate the business, Spencer. To a successful partnership.” He laughed softly until his cough kicked in.

“I have to admit I was worried about the Grayson girl. There wasn't the same time to plan as we did with the others. But it actually turned out to be the most ingenious yet. We managed to eliminate Grayson and remove a weak link at the same time.” Spencer's deeply tanned face spread with a satisfied smile. “Molinoff had become unstable. Fillmore will be much better suited to our goals.”

“You're sure Jackson will make Fillmore his chief of staff ?”

“Absolutely. Jackson's so spooked at losing Jed and that little staffer, Allard, both within a few days, he grabbed on to Larry to stay afloat.”

“It looks like all the pieces are falling into place.” Raymond took another sip, then stared into his glass. “There's still one piece that might cause a problem.”

“You mean the Grayson girl's aunt?” Spencer gave a dismissive wave. “She was only interested in finding her niece's killer. That's why we gave her Jed. He'd been clumsy enough to call attention to himself, so he was the logical solution to the uh, problem.”

Raymond chuckled. “I'll bet Molinoff peed his pants when she emailed those photos of him in Grayson's car.”

Spencer gave a little snort as he swirled the liquor in his glass. “Just about. Which only proved we made the right decision to eliminate him sooner rather than later. He was totally unreliable.” Spencer took another drink, and ran his tongue over his upper lip.

“How'd you ever convince him to take the fall? Literally, I mean.”

“I promised we'd take care of his wife and children with a sizable anonymous donation. Suicide would be far easier than spending life in prison, especially given today's prison population. Jed knew the photos would probably be enough to convict him. He also knew better than to try and squeal on us. His family would get nothing, and he'd still be behind bars where his life would be a living hell.”