'How the fuck do I know? I don't know anything about that. That's why I don't wanna go.'
'You say strides are being made between peoples who have been at war for ages, and it is unreasonable to expect a solution overnight. You are working to see that steady progress is being achieved.'
'I can do that here.'
'No. No, Haze, you're outta slack over here. You can't feed the press platitudes forever. Now,you're the nominee! They're gonna demand specific answers, and every answer you give will create enemies who will cut into your approval ratings. The longer I can keep you abroad, the better chance we have of defeating Pudge in November. In six months, you're gonna be in the White House, Haze. You're gonna make it, but you gotta listen to me. You've gotta do what I say. I've never let you down yet. Have I? Tell me one thing I've told you, didn't turn out the way I said.' There was desperation in A. J.'s voice. They both heard it.
The argument lasted for almost half an hour, and in the end, they struck a compromise. Haze would go abroad, but only if Susan could go, too. A. J. agreed, knowing he would regret it, but he made Haze promise no more screwing. Haze was getting tired of the lecture and he finally agreed, but he had no intention of keeping the promise.
Kaz and Cole watched the victory speech in a bar-restaurant inside the beltway. The talk in the bar was all about the coronation of Haze Richards, the candidate from nowhere who had swept in and won the Democratic nomination. Kaz and Cole sat in silence listening to the short speech, which included a moment where Haze talked about Anita and wiped his eyes.
'You see any tears?' Kaz asked glumly.
'Yeah, but it's California. Could be the smog. They got like fifty particles of nitrous oxide chasing every poor little oxygen molecule.'
Kaz waved at the bartender to get him another Coke. 'We gotta find David Robb. I called around; nobody knows where he is. I guess that means we gotta check out hospitals and nursing homes. And death certificates.'
Cole looked down at the empty martini glass in front of him. 'Lemme ask you something, 'cause I'm confused.' 'That's why I'm here, Cole, to cure your confusion.' 'Haze Richards has the Democratic nomination, right?' 'Seems so.' The bartender put the Coke down in fron t o f Kaz. Cole waved him off.
'Anita Richards is dead, but we have nothing but hunches as to why.'
'Cops go on hunches.'
'I need two valid sources to run a story. Why would Haze kill his wife?'
'Sympathy. Could win him the election.'
'Come on, he was winning.'
'Make him win bigger. . Or to stop the bimbo grenades that I'm sure Pudge was set to throw. What else is troubling you?'
'How do we knock the Haze Richards campaign off the track? Seems to me the only thing we have a chance of proving is that the mob financed C. Wallace Litman and that his network is steering on the election. That may not even be a crime, and just because Litman worked on Teddy Lansky's tax returns in the seventies doesn't mean he was bankrolled by the mob. Where's the evidence? We've got no smoking gun.'
'Not yet, but if we can prove that UBC is a mob-controlled company, and if we can prove that Mickey Alo wants to put Haze in the White House, then I think we can knock him off. The American people hate to get duped. If we can prove the mob and UBC picked Haze and were trying to manipulate the election, the backlash will end it.'
Cole paid for the drinks and they moved to a table for dinner. 'Ever since the Lansky trial in Israel I've always wondered what was in that suitcase. It had to be powerful. It kept him out of Israel,' Cole said as they were seated.
'My bet is illegal wiretaps of Lansky's private conversations with criminals. Probably stuff Justice couldn't use in the U. S. courts 'cause it was obtained illegally, but it would be perfectly all right to let the Israelis borrow it. If we get lucky, maybe those tapes still exist. They won't b e l isted in the records 'cause there was no paper behind the bugs. David Robb would have had to approve the deal. That means he has them or knows where they are. If we find him, maybe we get half the equation. . Maybe we get old recordings of Lansky talking to Joseph Alo.'
'Or maybe he's talking to Wallace Litman.'
'I wish I was still boozing so I could drink to it,' Kaz said.
The waiter brought menus, but when they saw the prices, they got up and left.
Kaz and Cole had dinner at a crowded McDonald's next to a pinball arcade. As kids screamed and threw ice cubes, they divided up the tedious task of locating David Robb.
Chapter 54
Lucinda steered a course for Cabo San Lucas, and the fifty-foot ketch headed downwind in a following sea.
The course corrections were frequent as she rode the mounds of fast-moving water that were overtaking them from the stern. The sky was filled with high, scuddin g c louds that turned the day silver in the afternoon light.
Ryan had stayed on deck, hopping awkwardly to port and starboard, reeling in the jib lines with the chrome coffee grinders.
The incident with Jerry Paradise had crystalized the danger for both of them. For Lucinda, it was the final chord in a dark fugue that started playing the day they buried Rex an orchestrated deception that included the beating in the park. . the cold, empty warning in the den and the threat in the kitchen where he'd pushed her down and accused her of spying on him. All of these things paled next to Jerry Paradise and the attempt to kill them.
'We should call Kaz and tell him what happened,' Lucinda finally said.
Ryan listened to the wind whistling through the rigging. He knew she was right. The cell phone was in the center drawer below. It was dead but Ryan told her there was a charger down below.
Lucinda got the cell phone, turned on the tiny generator that fed power to the cabin, plugged in the charger, and set the unit up on the chart table. She turned to go back up on deck, but hesitated when she saw Ryan sitting at the wheel, looking off toward the horizon, his chin high, his right hand on the helm. Her heart caught as she looked at him. There seemed to be something more substantial about him now-something that was missing before, a strength of purpose, a determination. He looked down and caught her staring at him. She smiled to cover her embarrassment and clambered up the stairs to join him.
'What were you just thinking?' she asked.
'I was wondering what force in the cosmic plan decided to hand us this gigantic problem. How are we qualified to keep the underworld from stealing the presidency?'
She had no answer. The thought overwhelmed her.
A gust of wind caught the mainsail and they both felt the boat lean over as it rushed down the hill of rolling water.
Ryan looked out at a low-flying gull that had its wings spread and was cruising, effortlessly, along behind the Linda, never changing its position, riding the same wind so that it appeared to be hovering, while in fact it was moving fast, maintaining the position with only slight adjustments of wing and tail. Ryan thought it would be nice if he'd been able to control the currents of his life with such ease.
In forty minutes, the cell phone was charged and Lucinda went down and got it. She dialed her mother's number. It rang three times, then she heard Kaz's voice on the other end. 'Yep,' he said, noncommittally.
'Kaz?'
'Who's this?'
'Lucinda. I'm with Ryan. He wants to talk to you.' She handed the phone to Ryan, who put it to his ear.
Kaz was still in Washington, parked in front of the Human Resources Office. He was about to go in and find somebody who would buy a line of bullshit he'd dummied up about an overpayment on David Robb's social security.
