Part 35 (2/2)

”Because that's not intimidation, it's murder.”

”And Hutchinson won't do that? How can you be sure? Maybe I should just drop the suit.”

”If you do, how will you get Jay to St. Louis?” When she didn't answer, he said, ”I have to ask you this, Crystal. For the record. Is there any other person, besides the senator, who would want to give you a scare?”

”No.”

”What about your mother?”

”My mother?”

”You're not on good terms with her.”

”Hey, not on good terms doesn't mean we're enemies. She was here both days this weekend, and she brought food. She doesn't have money to give me, and she can't help me babysitting Jay because she works a twelve-hour s.h.i.+ft herself. But she's okay. Besides, I know the people she hangs with, and that guy wasn't one of them.”

”He didn't say his name?”

”I told you he didn't. What if he comes back? What do I do?”

”You stay calm and keep your door locked. If he shows up again, call the police. In the meantime, I'll call the senator's lawyer.”

It took him five minutes to connect with Dan Drummond-five minutes of Drummond's secretary ”looking for him,” though Hugh suspected the man was right there all the time. When he finally came on the line, he was genial. ”Hey, Hugh. You're early. I thought I had till Wednesday.”

”It's the senator who has till Wednesday, Dan, but something else has come up. My client is being hara.s.sed.”

”What does that mean?”

”She's been visited by a threatening-looking guy who knows more than he should. Tell Hutch to call him off.”

”What does Hutch have to do with this?”

Hugh sighed. ”Ah, come on, Dan. Let's not play games.”

”No games. What does Hutch have to do with some man visiting your client?”

”Maybe nothing. I expected that he would hire a detective to talk with the people she knows, but a good PI would never confront the woman directly. She's a represented party. That makes it an ethical violation. If this happens again, I'll hold a press conference outlining my case. Hutch may have nothing to do with the guy who was banging on my client's door, but the media won't think that way. They love this kind of thing. Tell him to call off his man, unless he wants us to go public. And while you're at it, remind him that I need a commitment by Wednesday-either an acknowledgment of paternity or an agreement to take a DNA test.”

”Wednesday's calling it close,” Drummond murmured, as if he were consulting his calendar to arrange a lunch date. ”The senator has a bill pending-”

”I know about the bill,” Hugh interrupted. ”It has to do with early education intervention in underprivileged areas. He's getting big exposure as one of its co-sponsors. I'd hate to see his image tarnished because he refuses to take care of his own.”

”The senator has a bill pending,” Drummond repeated as if Hugh hadn't spoken, ”and it'll be close, because the plan costs money. There are those in Congress who don't want to spend for the poor. Hutch is not one of them. He's working his d.a.m.nedest to line up the votes. I'd say this takes precedence over a trumped-up charge by a woman he doesn't know.”

”Wednesday, or I go public.”

Minutes after hanging up the phone, Hugh went down the hall to his partner's office. Julian Kohn knew all about the Kostas case. Hugh had kept him in the loop. Now Hugh described the latest twist. ”Do you think I'm wrong?” he asked. ”She swears there's no reason anyone else would threaten her, and from the digging Lakey did, I'd agree. The woman doesn't gamble, she doesn't do drugs. She pays her rent on time. She juggles three credit cards, but she always pays the minimum balance, and her credit report is otherwise good. Everyone at work likes her.”

Julian tossed his gla.s.ses aside, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his feet on the desk. ”You're not wrong. I'd trust her, too. And, yeah, I'd guess that the senator hired someone. Didn't he do that once before with an aide who quit his staff and went to work for an opponent?”

”Something like that,” Hugh said, wandering around the room. Everything was new here-beautifully placed by Dana, who had done most of the offices in the suite. But this office was different from Hugh's. Julian's father had been a butcher, his mother a homemaker. There had been no money to pay for leather-bound books and bronze bookends, much less education. By the time Julian finished law school, he carried nearly a hundred thousand dollars in loans. He'd made a lot of money since then, but he never forgot his roots. The simplicity of the office decor reflected that.

Hugh never forgot his roots, either. Unfortunately, they were bogus. ”Want to hear something bizarre?” he said, and told Julian about his grandfather.

Halfway through, Julian dropped his feet to the floor. ”That's amazing,” he said when Hugh finished. ”Your father lived with this?”

”He convinced himself it wasn't so.”

”This was his mother, Hugh. His mother. Given who your family is, I can understand why he didn't want those rumors to be true. His silence may not have been a result of bigotry as much as family loyalty.”

”You're a forgiving person.”

”Not always. I had a great-aunt who grew up in Eastern Europe. She and her husband denied they were Jewish to escape the Holocaust. Even after they immigrated to New York, they denied it. Their children denied it. My cousins still deny it. I can understand their guilt. The Jews in their town were rounded up and killed.”

”They lied to save their lives. I'm not sure I'd condemn them,” Hugh said.

”I don't, not for lying. For failing to appreciate life. They complain all the time. To hear them speak, they're always being robbed of something-a job, a house, the golf champions.h.i.+p-and all because someone else has a little more money or status. They always come up short. They're never quite good enough. It's guilt. Guilt erodes confidence. But your dad-well, he's lived with the doubt and still made something of his life.” He smiled. ”African American? That's cool.”

His eyes brightened. Swiveling, he opened a cabinet in the credenza behind the desk and took out his camera. ”You gotta see this.” He began scrolling through shots. ”Hold on. Almost there.” Another few seconds pa.s.sed. ”Here.” He turned the camera for Hugh to see.

Hugh got up for a better look. The picture was one that Julian had taken two weekends before. Hugh remembered the moment. He had felt like a hypocrite, smiling at the camera as the happy new dad, though he and Dana were barely speaking.

But they weren't smiling in this shot. Hugh scrolled back to the picture with the smiles.

”I didn't like that one,” Julian said. ”The one I showed you is more real.”

Hugh looked at it again. The pose was the same-Dana holding Lizzie, Hugh at her side with an arm around them both. But the smiles had faded, and rather than looking at the camera, they were looking at Lizzie.

Yes, it was more real, and quite beautiful.

”E-mail me this?” he asked.

The next day, Hutchinson's bill made headlines. Hutchinson-Loy Heads to Vote with Surprise Support. The article detailed the defection of a major member of the opposition in what was a.s.sumed would be a party-line vote. The defection promised to swing the vote in favor of the bill's pa.s.sage.

Dana, who was reading the article as Hugh did, turned to its continuation on an inner page.

”Listen to these sound bites,” he said from over her shoulder. ”'The culmination of Senator Hutchinson's lifelong commitment to the poor.' 'No senator has fought harder for the underprivileged than Stan Hutchinson.' 'Perpetuates the legacy of compa.s.sion for the senior senator from Connecticut.'” Hugh snickered. ”If this bill pa.s.ses, it'll be because it's an election year, and the senators who are up for reelection are running scared.”

”But the bill is a good one, isn't it?” Dana asked.

”Definitely. I can't fault Hutchinson here. I can't fault him for much of anything he's done in his twenty years in the Senate. I do fault him for leaving his morals on Capitol Hill. What he does on the Senate floor is very different from what he does in his private life. Has he ever given a penny more to charity than he thinks his const.i.tuents expect? Has he ever not bedded a woman who is attractive and willing? Has he ever not used strong-arm tactics if he felt someone might thwart him?”

Dana didn't answer. She was reading a small piece tucked just under the fold. Local Art Dealer Charged with Fraud. It was only one paragraph, not much information given, but the name of the art dealer shocked her.

She pointed to it in astonishment. ”Do you know who this is?”

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