“I suspect the possibility hasn’t even crossed his mind. Their family fortune was built on conflicts of interest. During World War II, his grandfather was the majority shareholder of Longridge Arms at the same time he was serving in the War Department handing out contracts. Longridge went from a couple of thousand employees in 1939 to over a hundred thousand by 1943 and became the largest supplier of tanks and armored vehicles to the army-and he wasn’t the only political family that went that route. The wealth of one of our former presidents came from his grandfather serving on the War Industries Board during World War I and giving his own company contracts for making guns and ammunition.”
“What about Landon and Brandon’s father, was he in on it?”
“He was sort of a transitional figure, like most other Cabinet members. Work in government for a few years, feed contracts to corporations that support the party, leave government to take positions in those same companies, build a personal fortune by exploiting political connections, then back into government at a higher level, then back into industry-but that’s not Landon’s game. For him it’s all about the public good, not about cashing in later. He’s a decent man. Always has been.”
Gage smiled to himself.
“Remember during the first few years of the Iraq War, all those government officials talking in jargon about optics and metrics and boots on the ground?”
Alex Z nodded.
“Landon once pointed down at the secretary of state during a committee hearing, and said, ‘Stop calling them boots. They’re soldiers, human beings-our sons and daughters.’ Then he paused for a beat and said, ‘Boots, Madam Secretary, do not feel pain.’ She flinched like a bullet was heading her way and looked like she was getting ready to dive under the table. The scene was almost Shakespearean.”
“But I thought Landon was an ideologue. That’s his reputation anyway.”
“Only in the sense that he’s not afraid to follow political ideas to their logical conclusion, even if it sometimes ends in nonsense. When he was first in the House of Representatives he introduced a bill to make it illegal for companies engaged in interstate commerce to use any language but English in conducting their business.”
Alex Z laughed. “You mean if Pedro Gonzalez in California e-mails his brother’s market in New Mexico to tell him the tortillas are on the way, he’d have to write it in English? That’s ridiculous. Anyway the Constitution gives us a right to privacy.”
“The problem is once you start from the premise that English is the national language, it’s where an honest thinker can end up. The difference in Landon between then and now is he’s learned not to try to turn every logical conclusion into legislation.”
“What about his brother?”
“For Brandon, it’s about power. I think that’s why he became a judge. He was never going to match his father’s fortune on his own, so he needed a kind of authority his father couldn’t buy, at least directly.”
Gage scanned the copies laid out on the table. His eyes came to rest on the list of telephone numbers.
“How about doing a little research?” Gage said. “Find out whether any of these corporations match plaintiffs or defendants in cases Brandon’s old firm handled or match contributors to Landon’s campaigns.”
“No problem.”
Gage continued examining the copies as Alex Z turned to leave.
“Of course-” Alex Z turned back. Gage was holding up the photocopy of the condom. “Maybe Meyer was desperate to get his wallet back only because he was worried about getting caught cheating on his wife.”
G age picked up his phone and punched in a number after Alex Z left.
“Skeeter, this is Graham.”
“Hey, man. I was about to give you a call about Brandon Meyer.”
“I guess you won your trial.”
“How do you figure?”
“You said his name.”
Skeeter laughed. “Not exactly. The other side settled just before the case went to the jury. Even Meyer couldn’t save their corporate asses.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“You work out yet today?”
“Nope. Early court appearance.”
“How about meet me tonight at Stymie’s?”
Skeeter laughed again. “We’re finally gonna find out who lifts how much, partner.”
Chapter 30
It pisses me off.” Skeeter threw his gym bag at the side of his silver Mercedes in the night-shadowed gym parking lot. “You blew past me like I’m the kid who gets sand kicked in his face.”
“Don’t take it so hard,” Gage said. “You’re ten years older than I am.”
Skeeter shook his head. “Well, at least I’m better-looking.”
Gage laughed. “We both know that’s not true.”
“Well, maybe once.”
“Okay, you can have that.”
Skeeter popped open his trunk and tossed the bag in. The glow of the neon sign of the auto repair shop next door revealed a sober expression when he returned to stand next to Gage.
“I’m not sure there’s any way to reopen the Porzolkiewski case,” Skeeter said. “I’ll have some associates do the research and let you know.” He slammed a fist into his palm and his voice hardened. “I knew Hawkins lied in his deposition, I just couldn’t prove it, and I suspected Charlie Palmer had something to do with getting him out of the country.”
“Why didn’t you ask me to find out?”
Skeeter threw up his hands. “Don’t you think I wanted to? Almost every time I’ve called in the last twenty years, you’ve been between nine and fifteen time zones away. And that’s probably what happened back then.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s my frustration. But I’ll tell you this
… if I could connect the dots all the way to Brandon, I’d get his ass impeached.”
“Don’t we both wish.”
Skeeter leaned back against his car. “I’ve been thinking about your talk with Wilbert Hawkins. What’s he been living on?”
“A flat million-dollar payoff. It’ll last ten lifetimes in India.”
“What about his wife? Is she getting some of it?”
“Nope. He signed over his retirement to her. He only had nineteen years in, but he was vested and she lives cheap. Just beer and McDonald’s.”
“Any way to link the million to TIMCO?”
“Hawkins said the money went through a Caribbean account. Even if he could’ve remembered the name and the island, we’d never get the records, but we’re going through Charlie’s computer and all his files, not just for that but, for anything suspicious.”
“That links to Brandon?”
“He’s just one of the names. Charlie left lots enemies behind.”
Gage joined Skeeter in leaning against the car, then folded his arms across his chest.
“Let me try something out on you,” Gage said.
“Shoot.”
“Just between us.”
Skeeter nodded.
“Everybody seems to agree that some of Brandon’s rulings are bizarre, but they’re always solid enough to withstand appeal.”
