The Means (24 page)

57

Something Connor Marks said stayed with Samantha. Every media organization reported on the hit-and-run allegation. She doesn't need to unbreak that story, she needs to break the real story.

The mistake Connor made is the same that all narcissists make. Narcissists are capable of anticipating the behavior of another only by anticipating what their own behavior would be if in the other's position.

Samantha gets to work. She finds the Miami cop from the Delano Hotel who first introduced her to Connor Marks and who had been angry with her for her part in the Meadow Jones case. He can identify Connor Marks as a fixer but nothing more.

She finds Charlie Keating, her driver and photographer in Miami, who relates the way in which Connor Marks manipulated the Meadow Jones interviews.

She reaches the office of Kenny Landers who had been at the bar in Georgetown with Connor Marks the night of the inauguration, but he does not respond.

Monica Morris does not respond. Samantha digs up all she can on the fund-raising website in support of Monica, and who the donors are.

There are few tracks left by Connor himself. Samantha has cell phone records proving they spoke on several occasions, and she has contemporaneous notes that describe where Connor pointed her and the mission he gave her.

There's no smoking gun. It's her interviews, supported by her notes and emails along with a few stories from people like Charlie Keating that fit a pattern.

It's not enough. There's no story. There's nothing for anyone to go on unless she can link Connor Marks with Monica Morris, and Monica has either been paid enough or is scared enough not to cooperate.

Then Samantha has an idea.

58

“I need to vent.” Samantha sits across the unsteady wood table from Robin in Le Grainne Cafe in Chelsea. Her college friend is a safe person to share a load with.

“I already ordered the bottle of Sancerre,” says Robin. Ethan Hawke is a few tables behind them in his usual place of prominence by the window, attracting gawkers. The café is the right amount of bohemian for his image.

“It's important that you know me this well.” The waitress pours the wine into two glasses that are spotty but clean enough.

They touch glasses in a silent toast and Robin waits for Samantha.

“I have so much to tell you. Some of it I should keep confidential. For now, because I'm going to report on it, but those are just small details.”

“I hope you'll start by telling me about Tom Pauley. You never mentioned that one to me before and he's hot. Usually they don't look like Harry Hamlin in real life.”

“He's a good man. It was just one of those things that happens when you're working too hard and then drinking too much. I was his associate on a case so we had a few months of working those crazy hours together. It happened and it was over almost as fast.”

“I don't care about that. I want to know how the sex was.”

Samantha laughs and drinks. “Nine.”

“Pretty good for a head of state. And that was before he was head of state. The extra cachet could put him over the top.” Robin catches herself talking too loudly. She leans in and whispers, “Sorry,” then pours more wine.

“This issue doesn't have to do with Pauley. It's Mason.” Samantha is whispering too. At 3:30 p.m. it's between mealtimes so the café is only half full with coffee drinkers and a few crepe eaters. Nobody is near enough to hear a whisper.

“Okay.”

“He didn't do it. The hit-and-run.”

“I figured there's a good chance that woman is a crackpot.”

“It's more than that. She was a piece in a plan. People organized a lot of pieces to make this seem credible.”

“What people?”

“That's the confidential part, but they organized me. They gave me facts but all organized, secondhand information.”

“But facts are facts.”

“Presentation matters. It's like wearing the preprinted T-shirts with the wrong Super Bowl champs on them.”

Robin frowns. “It's not like that. Those are factually wrong. We donate them to third world countries.”

“Monica Morris is factually wrong. I put her story out without enough skepticism.”

“Her story was going to get out no matter what. Everyone reported on it and nobody could show it was a lie. Still nobody can show it's a lie.”

“But I broke the story. I let it out with a bang but now I have an idea how to close it down with a bang.”

The waitress comes back and they each order a Nutella crepe. Ethan Hawke is people-watching the people watching him. “He wouldn't have settled on you for the leak if he'd ever seen you litigate a case.” Robin sips her wine with one hand. With the other hand the tips of her fingers caress her collarbone and she looks at Samantha, worried. “Don't do anything dangerous.”

“I don't think I'm in danger. Any daylight would make these people go underground, not attack.”

“Don't be so sure you know who you're dealing with.”

“I'm not worried about danger from those people. They're not part of my plan anyway. I just need to talk with Monica Morris, but to your point, I'm not sure I know who I'm dealing with.”

“That's easy. She's crazy.”

“She's at least a little crazy, but I don't know if she's a malicious opportunist who knew what she was doing. If she is, that'll make this easy. If she's a broken woman who was exploited and didn't understand the consequences of what she was doing, it'll be harder. I don't want to hurt her. I'll have to weigh whether or not to use anything I get because right now I don't know another way to set this right. I'm actually hoping she has no remorse. I'll feel better about going after her.”

Robin smiles. “I said you'd be right in the middle of it all.”

“For better or worse.”

“I know you. For better.”

59

“Round trip to Rye,” says Samantha. She had looked for thirty seconds for a ticket kiosk in the massive Grand Central lobby before doing it the old-fashioned way.

“Track twenty-one.” The attendant hands her a credit-card-sized piece of paper.

It's fifty minutes on the local Metro North train to Rye. Samantha then walks Purchase Street to Boston Post Road and it takes her twenty minutes to get to Rye High School.

She shows her press credentials to the administrator at reception, who recognizes her anyway and knows that about twenty-five years ago on
Latch Key
, Samantha played the younger sister of the Rye High drama teacher.

“How fun. Melissa is in the auditorium now, finishing a class. I'll take you over there.” Security at suburban schools is tight but a little celebrity goes a long way.

They enter the auditorium from the back and look down the stadium-­style seating to the stage where Melissa Evers and about twenty students are sprawled in a cluster.

“I'll wait here and watch, thank you.” Samantha sits in the dim light of the back row.

The students are reclined around Melissa on the stage. She reviews a rehearsal schedule then dismisses the class and all the bodies stand and move off the sides of the stage then up the steps past Samantha.

Melissa is three years older than Samantha, both on the show and in real life. When
Latch Key
ended, Melissa was fifteen. She stayed around the loop of acting in L.A. for ten years trying to make her transition from child actor to actor. It was ten years of nervousness and rejection, of having to create an image of herself for herself, then picking up the pieces after each audition.

Watching dozens of friends live the same reality, it became harder to rationalize an alternate reality for her own life. She moved to New York to find work in daytime soaps. She found unsteady work, did guest appearances on
Law & Order
, and tried stand-up comedy. Then the work stopped coming at all. She was banished from the dreams that used to nourish her and she took the job at Rye High. She became happy for the first time in two decades.

Samantha claps from the back row. Melissa squints toward the noise and doesn't recognize her. Samantha starts down the steps, still clapping.

“Bravo.” The voice gives her up.

“Samantha?”

“You're as beautiful as ever.” Melissa is blond with blue eyes and no less beautiful than any of the five hundred thousand other women her age that have wanted to be in the movies.

“So are you. What a nice surprise to see you.”

Samantha doesn't want to ask the favor just yet. “It's great to see you. It transports me back twenty-five years.”

“Please. Don't depress me.”

Samantha holds up her arms. “This is beautiful.”

“It's suburbia.” This is not an endorsement.

“I walked here from the train. Quite a town.”

“I live in Port Chester. The town over. Much more affordable. This is a pretty wealthy set here, but nice-enough people.”

Samantha says, “Do you have a few minutes to catch up?”

“Sure. I have about an hour. Do you want coffee?”

“No.”

“Then let's stay here. I usually hide down here most of the day.” She pulls two wooden chairs together on the stage. “I've seen you on TV a few times. You're doing great.”

“Thanks.”

“The first time I saw you was on the Meadow Jones murder case. You were all over the place. And your reporting on President Mason and the hit-and-run caused a big stir. I haven't followed that since the election. What's happening with that now?”

“He's innocent.”

“Really? I knew it! I hadn't heard that yet.”

“It's not really out there yet.”

Melissa frowns. “Why not?”

“That's why I'm here. I need your help.”

“My help?”

“I need a talented actress.”

“For what?”

“If I spring for JetBlue tickets, would you take a flight with me to Palm Beach? The whole thing is probably two days.”

“When?”

“How about next week?”

“Is this for UBS?”

“Sort of, but it's unofficial, which is why I'm here.”

“This has to do with President Mason?”

“I can't guarantee there's no danger to you.”

Melissa would take a bullet for a great role. She brushes away the warning with a hand motion.

Samantha believes her plan will pose little danger to Melissa. “If you're in, I'll give you the details.”

“I'm in.”

60

“How is Connor?”

“He's fine. He's doing well and he wants to make sure you're okay too.”

“When do you think I can see him?”

“It may be a while, Monica. Maybe a couple years. Maybe more. I'm sorry.” Melissa does feel a little sorry for Monica Morris. The woman is alone and upset and though she must have known on some level what she was getting involved with, she couldn't have known what it would feel like to have media stationed outside her condo for weeks, following her movements around town. The last she had heard from Connor was not to travel, not to do anything different, so she has stayed immobile in the center of chaos. “Connor wants everything to go through me for now,” Melissa says.

“Okay.”

“This must be so hard for you, Monica.” Melissa's goal to start is to be sympathetic. Monica is scared and isolated. Melissa needs to be a shoulder for her, build trust, get her talking, and be vague about everything in return. Don't go for anything until Monica likes Melissa enough that she wants the meeting to be longer rather than shorter.

“It's been horrible.” It feels good for Monica to be able to say that to another person. For someone to hear that and understand it. To validate her. Monica has another thought. “So I won't see Alan anymore? Did something happen to him?”

Melissa leans back and thinks, Shit. The most important rule in improv and stand-up comedy is never to shut anything down. When the dialogue passes to you, you don't drop it, you take it and do something with it. No is not an answer. “You'll still see Alan. He's still there for you.”

“Good. At least he's someone familiar, even if he does scare the dickens out of me when he appears out of nowhere. It's gotten so every time I come out of the Starbucks into the parking lot, I hope he'll show up. Tell him to come more often.”

Melissa smiles. “I'll pass that along. I'll be here for you too. Connor wants to make sure you're getting what you need.”

“What I need is for this mess to go away. I'm barely sleeping.” Monica is relaxing and venting and showing some anger. “What do you do for Connor? Have you known him long?”

Be vague, be vague. “It's better that you don't know. I'm sorry to be secretive, but it's better for you and it's better for me.”

Shutting down the question diminishes the trust that has been developing. Melissa and Samantha had role-played this interview the way they would rehearse lines for a show, trying out different emotions and emphases. They had anticipated this question and giving a nonanswer seemed the realistic response for the fictional character Carol Shaw that Melissa is playing. But Melissa sees the damage this answer causes because she and Samantha didn't anticipate the effects of the isolation and paranoia on Monica Morris. Melissa changes course.

Playing Carol Shaw, Melissa smiles. “I've known Connor for years. We've worked together a long time. I'm a field person, not his accountant.” She smiles wider. “No harm in you knowing that.”

Monica takes this as a gift and she's happy.

*   *   *

“Nicely done,” says Samantha from the adjoining room in the DoubleTree.

She's watching two screens in black-and-white. One is from a camera in Melissa's lapel pin that gives a close-up of Monica, and the other is from a camera in a clock on the wall that shows a side view of the two women talking. The sound quality is good.

They had considered miking up Melissa's ear so they could speak with her but decided it would be too risky and possibly distracting to Melissa anyway. Melissa's on her own but she's rehearsed and she's a pro.

“Keep your routine with Alan the same as it has been. Nothing changes there, but Connor wanted to give you someone you could talk to more easily.”

The information on Alan has given her something credible to run with and sets things up for where she wants to go.

“She's doing great. Calm, even. Sympathetic body language.” Samantha's directing a movie except she can't yell cut. They just roll tape.

“She's good.” Tim Hart is a freelance audio tech that Samantha has met in her work with UBS. Hart had wired the room for the meeting. He sits next to Samantha, leaning over the two laptop screens that receive the camera signals and record them.

They're at the DoubleTree Hotel on the corner of PGA Boulevard and Military Trail. Melissa had called Monica the day before, saying her name is Carol Shaw and that she works for Connor Marks. Only a handful of people know of her connection to Connor and Monica believed her. Melissa told her to drive to Palm Beach International in the morning, park, get a taxi at the airport, and get to the DoubleTree at eleven a.m. That would lose any media vans. Don't speak to anyone until then.

Samantha and Melissa don't care if Monica's phones are tapped by law enforcement. They're on the side of law enforcement. And they know Connor wouldn't risk putting a tap on the line and getting found out. They knew there was a chance that Connor had set up a code word with Monica to verify anyone contacting her, but they had to hope that the name Connor Marks would satisfy as verification.

“Well, I appreciate you meeting me. This has been a worse hell than I thought it would be. I just want it all to stop. I'm angry and I'm scared for my son.”

The comment surprises Melissa and instead of nodding her understanding she says, “Why?”

“Alan was very clear. These are powerful people. If anything goes wrong, if I do anything wrong, it'll be bad for Sean.”

“Well, nothing's going to go wrong, Monica.” Melissa has recovered. “I'm here to help make sure of that.”

Samantha and Melissa think at the same time that there could be collateral damage in releasing the tape of this interview, but in the case of Sean Morris, the tape making national news will be the best outcome for his safety.

Monica covers her face with her hands and presses back the emotion. “I'm just so angry,” she says. There is a single cry that is muffled and when she pulls her hands down, there are tears and saliva and a runny nose mixed together.

Melissa leans forward and reaches a hand to Monica's knee and thinks, Maybe you shouldn't have lied to the FBI. This is one of the openings she and Samantha had rehearsed.

“Here it is, Melissa. Gentle,” says Samantha to the laptop.

“Monica, I have a background as a therapist. Healthy, successful people talk things out with a psychologist all the time, in addition to friends and family, and they do this when they're under one-tenth the pressure you are. I know your friend was a psychologist. You haven't had anyone to talk with. You're under enormous strain. Let's just talk a bit. It might make you feel better.”

“I know, I know. Connor thinks I'm turning into some basket case that's going to crack. You need to come here and manage me or it's going to mess up your whole disgusting plan.” She twirls her fingers by her ears in the crazy motion when she says the word “manage.”

Melissa sees the woman is already unhinged and not remorseful. “We know you're under a lot of stress, as would anyone be in your position. I'm here to help. I've helped people in tight spots before.”

Monica makes a big exhale. She has the bratty way of a person who always thinks the world has singled her out for unfair treatment. “Okay.” Monica is gathering herself. This seems like an idea worth trying.

“What emotions are you feeling, besides anger and fear?”

“Oh, my gosh, Carol.” Monica rolls her head back. “I couldn't possibly say. All of them at once, I guess, but mostly anger and fear. And exhaustion, if that counts as emotion.”

“Exhaustion is a real thing. It's a major force on us. Rest is the most recuperative thing our bodies can do, and you need it. You should think about a sleep aid.”

“I'm all over that.”

“Any other emotions? Guilt?”

Monica nods sideways to acknowledge a maybe but says nothing.

“Guilt is a powerful emotion.”

“Yes.”

“You need to address that. For yourself. Or it doesn't go away, believe me, I know.”

Monica nods.

“You need to talk it through, Monica. Do you feel guilty that this damaged a man or stirred up the election?”

“Mitchell Mason is not a good man.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But this is about you, not him.” Melissa needs to get back on Monica's side. “I'm here to help you through this, Monica. That's why Connor had me come here.”

“I know.”

Now feels like the time to take a shot. “It's too late to change anything that's happened. I'm sure Connor and Alan have made that clear. But it's not too late to deal with what you're feeling. Are you feeling guilt or remorse that you invented the hit-and-run?”

“I suppose I am. He's a bad person but I wish now it didn't come to all that.”

“Are you angry with him?”

Monica thinks about this, considering a question she hasn't asked herself in a while. “No, not anymore. I really loved him. He treated me like trash, but I loved him.”

“Monica, this is strictly between us. Are you angry with Connor Marks?”

Monica is surprised by the question and takes a moment to check with herself for the true answer. “No, I'm not angry with Connor. He didn't do anything wrong, and he explained everything to me. I was just naïve, and it's a lot of money. And Mason is such a prick.”

This is her true answer though she's also a little afraid of Connor and thinks Carol will share the answer.

“Okay, good.” Melissa is close to the end and wants to run out the door. “Connor has a lot of years in with the Miami Police Department. He'll know how to take care of you. Over the long haul as well.” This is a comment scripted by Samantha. If it gets this far, she wants to make sure there is no doubt about which Connor Marks on the planet they're talking about.

“I know. Connor has been a friend.”

“We got it,” says Samantha from the next room.