wanted a national agenda. That makes sense, seeing as how he wanted Warner in the White House.”
“Do you know what they planned to do to influence politics?”
“I just assumed it would be through contributions.”
“But that wouldn’t require any secrecy.”
“I suppose not.”
“Did this group have a name?” Jack asked.
“The only thing I ever heard Adam say on the phone was the ‘Council.’ Understand, this is nothing official. You won’t find anything about them at party headquarters.”
Council! Bingo. Jack smiled. “Did you do your own investigating?”
“A little. I just wanted to make sure my Adam wasn’t unhappy at home. At times, he spent hours away. One hears of old men chasing young women. But I felt bad and confessed to Adam what I’d done. He said he was flattered that I’d think some young thing would be interested in an old geezer like him. I miss my Adam.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“You know, the living always betray the dead.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” Tears formed in Erma’s eyes.
Jack grasped her hand lightly. “Tell me.”
Erma sank lower into her chair. “Do you have a good soul, Mr. Rudly?”
Taken aback, Jack hesitated. “I like to believe so.”
“I hope so, too.” She looked around the room before continuing. “I was speaking of myself. You see, I’ve stayed silent since Adam’s death, and I feel my silence has betrayed him. My husband was a man of honor. And I don’t believe he died of natural causes. I believe he was viewed as an obstacle that needed to be removed.”
“Who do you think removed him? And why?”
“I don’t know, but about a week before his death, he and Edmund Lane had a serious fight.” Her voice was low.
Jack’s jaw flexed in concentration. Would Edmund Lane kill a friend? If so, as an adversary, his own father may have been in danger. No, that’s ridiculous, Lane’s a prominent businessman. And from his father’s notes it appeared Carolyn was the problem.
“Adam was so upset over the fight that he woke me up when he returned home late that night.
He didn’t give me many details, but he talked more than usual. Something about a business deal that involved Carolyn Lane.“
Carolyn? That fit.
“Also, Edmund had brought in men from Washington. Men who, Adam felt, were dangerous. He didn’t want to be associated with them. I knew Adam was referring to his political group, but he never said so. He just said that Edmund was selling his soul to the devil with these new ‘friendships.’”
Jack felt his pulse jump. “Do you know what type of business deal involved Carolyn? Could it have been with Mort Fields?”
“I wish I knew.” Erma sighed. “All I do know is my Adam wouldn’t do anything illegal. He was very principled.”
“Who were these men from Washington? And why do you think their activities were illegal?”
“I don’t know their names. Adam refused to say.” She wiped a tear off her cheek. “He said that Edmund told him, ‘If you’re not with me, you’re against me.’ Adam just kept repeating that phase. After thirty years, it crushed him that his friend would say such a thing. Adam said he just didn’t know who Edmund was anymore,” she sniffed.
“I think that’s what finally sent Adam to talk to your father. He said there was going to be a bloody feud in the party, because he wasn’t going to let the Lanes have their way. I didn’t know who the other members were, so I had no idea how bad it could be. I just knew that Edmund was powerful. He doesn’t sidestep obstacles; he bulldozes through them.” Her voice broke, but she continued. “One week later, my husband was found dead in his office.”
A bloody feud? Not too uncommon in politics. His father, however, never mentioned a fight in the party “How did he die?”
Erma shrugged. “They told me that his heart stopped. ‘It must have been his time,’ the doctor at the hospital said.”
“And you don’t believe it was his time?”
Erma’s gaze met his, “No. I don’t believe it for one minute. He’d just had a physical. ‘Fit as a fiddle,’ his physician had said. I should have spoken up then, but I was shocked and frightened. Edmund handled everything for me. And I let him. He was a good friend in that manner. Later, I learned that an autopsy would have been standard procedure, but the doctor had already signed the death certificate and there were no questions raised. I didn’t know what to think. I was just so devastated… so weak.” Jack could see she was fighting for composure.
He reached across the table and took her hand. “You did the best you could do under the circumstances. No one would ever fault you for that.”
They both sat in silence as he gave her a moment to calm herself.
“Do you think Edmund Lane killed your husband?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous. I just don’t believe Adam died of natural causes.” Sadness hung in the air. “I hope our talk helps you find whatever you’re looking for.”
“I hope so, too. Did Adam ever talk about Mort Fields?” Jack asked as they both stood.
“Yes, now and again. I assumed Mort was part of the Council. And Adam mentioned that he, too, spoke to your father about his concerns.”
“I see.” Adam and Mort were part of the so-called Council, and both had gone to his father. Their visits had to be related.
Erma walked him to the door. “If you need any further assistance, call me.” she said.
“Thank you. And please, if you think of anything else, I’m at the Best Western.”
Walking back to the hotel after dinner at a restaurant down the street. Jack felt as if he were being watched. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He turned quickly, taking a few steps backward, only to find the sidewalk behind him vacant.
He noticed his computer and frowned. He was sure he’d left his laptop in his briefcase. Now it sat in plain view on the desk, plugged in. Son-of-a-bitch, someone had been in his room. The maid? No. She had made up the room earlier that afternoon.
Jack went through his computer files. Nothing seemed to be missing. But why would someone break in and not take anything? The bastards were looking for something. He was getting too close. Somebody was getting nervous.
He wondered if his own employer was checking up on him. That was crazy. But was it? He’d seen crazier. And he’d never bothered to find out how the magazine knew he’d been to Missouri before.
He unscrewed the phone and disassembled the light fixtures, hunting for listening devices. Then he tore the room apart looking for anything dangerous. He’d seen bombs planted under toilet seats, toothpaste laced with poison, and a multitude of maiming weapons.
Three hours later, sweat dripping from his brow, he had the room reassembled as if nothing had happened. He flopped down on the bed.
He called the switchboard for messages. The operator told him that Mort Fields’s assistant had phoned to schedule an appointment. A smile lit Jack’s features. Fields was back in town. He could put the pieces of the puzzle together. While Erma had certainty given him interesting information, it was all second hand and speculative. He needed Mort to fill in the blanks.
