“Now hold on,” Carpington said. “I’m on record as saying that I had nothing but respect for Samuel Spender and the work he did throughout his life to protect the environment, and we should all be grateful to him for the concerns he raised about Willow Creek, and had he not done that, then Valley Forest Estates would not have had the benefit of his suggestions when it came to revising the plans for its final phase.”
“Oh gee, Roger,” Underwood sneered, “what did your friends do, cut back from 300 homes to 299?”
“That’s a ridiculous comment to make,” Carpington said. “You’d rather wipe out an entire neighborhood if it meant saving a salamander. Furthermore, I see no connection between police investigating the circumstances of Mr. Spender’s death and the development plans for this property.”
“Talk about ridiculous comments. You wouldn’t-”
“I think we can hold this debate,” the mayor interrupted, “when Councilman Carpington makes his motion. If there’s no other new business, then I would like to make a motion to declare this meeting adjourned. Do we have a seconder?”
Carpington jammed his papers into a briefcase, shaking his head angrily. At the other end, Underwood grabbed his things and stormed out of the council chamber. This guy was clearly not a friend of Don Greenway’s. Don’t take any walks down by the creek, I thought.
Carpington was hotfooting it to the exit when I tried to head him off. “Mr. Carpington?” I said. “Excuse me?”
He glanced over at me, still bristling from his exchange with Underwood. “Yes?” he said, looking at me over the top of his glasses.
“Do you have a moment?”
“It’s really late,” he said. “Why don’t you call my secretary tomorrow, or my home, and make an appointment?”
“I’m afraid it can’t wait. It’s rather urgent.” I raised the brown envelope in front of me. There were other council members, within earshot, filing past us.
“I’m terribly sorry, but I have to insist. Another time.”
I leaned in close to him, whispered. “It’s about Stefanie Knight, Mr. Carpington.”
It was like you’d turned on a tap and drained the blood out of him in a couple of seconds. He swallowed, glanced over at his colleagues, then whispered back to me, “My office.”
He led me down a tiled hallway and into a small room that served as his municipal office. It contained a small desk stacked with papers, a computer tucked in the corner, and several town surveys tacked to the walls. He quickly closed the door behind us and directed me into a chair. A cheap “World’s Greatest Dad” statuette sat on his desk next to a family photo. He grinned at the camera, surrounded by his plain wife and generic-looking children-a girl and two boys, all under the age of ten.
“What’s this about?” he said, slipping behind his desk. “I’m afraid I don’t know anyone named, what was it? Stefanie White?”
“Knight,” I said. “Nice try. I guess that was why you dragged me in here and closed the door, because you’ve never heard of her.”
“I’m afraid I don’t even know who you are.”
“Zack Walker. I’m one of your constituents. I live in the Valley Forest Estates subdivision, on Greenway Lane.”
“I see. Oh yes, Stefanie Knight. I believe she works in the Valley Forest Estates office. I think I’ve run into her there.”
Fuck it, I thought. I opened the envelope, withdrew one of the prints, and flung it across the desk at him. It landed image down. He grabbed it by one corner, flipped it over.
I didn’t believe he could lose any more color. He was the whitest, pastiest-looking weasel I’d ever had the pleasure of sitting across a desk from, and this included all the newspaper editors I’d ever worked for.
The hand holding the print began to shake. Carpington ran his hand over his scalp, wiping away the droplets of sweat that were beginning to form.
“How much?” he asked. “How much do you want?”
20
RIGHT OFF THE BAT, ROGER CARPINGTON did not strike me as a guy skilled in the art of negotiating. Caving is not one of the standard tactics. One look at the picture of himself with Stefanie Knight and he was ready to cut me a check.
“You think I’m here to blackmail you?” I asked.
Carpington, still sweating, said, “What other purpose could you have in mind when you come to me with a picture like this? You’re out to ruin me, that’s obvious. But I’m guessing that you can be dissuaded from that if we can agree upon a price.”
I leaned back in my chair. “I do think that the motive behind this picture, and the other ones I have in this envelope”-Carpington fixed his eyes upon it-“is definitely blackmail, Mr. Carpington, but I’m not your blackmailer. It’s somebody else. Maybe it’s Stefanie Knight. Has she been blackmailing you? Did she tell you she’d tell your wife about your affair if you didn’t pay her off?”
Carpington was wide-eyed. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not having an affair with Stefanie.”
I furrowed my brow, slid another one of the prints from the envelope out halfway, and peered at it. “You’re right. This one here, where she’s got your dick in her mouth, that doesn’t look like an affair. Maybe she’s just a consultant helping you interpret the town’s official plan.”
“You’re a disgusting man,” Carpington said. “Get out of my office.”
“Okay,” I said, and stood out of my chair. “Ta-ta.”
“Wait! Sit down. Sit down. Tell me what it is you want.”
“I want you to tell me about Stefanie. Everything.”
He shook his head slowly. “What do you care? And how do you happen to have these pictures? Do you know Stefanie? Are you working with her?”
“No, I don’t know her,” I said, “although I have seen her this evening.” I watched for anything in Carpington’s eyes, a glimmer. There was nothing. “How I happen to have these pictures is my business for now, but I can tell you that the negatives are safely stored away, and if something were to happen to me, there are people who’d know where to find them.” I was surprisingly good at this.
“I see,” Carpington said. He seemed to be abandoning any plans he might have had to leap across the desk and rip the envelope out of my hands.
“How did you meet Stefanie?” I asked.
He squirmed in his seat. “I met her through a business acquaintance.”
“Let me guess. Don Greenway.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. I’ve met with Mr. Greenway on several occasions, and Stefanie works in his office. I believe she’s his secretary.”
“You’ve been very supportive of Mr. Greenway’s development proposals.”
Carpington shrugged. “I think people like Mr. Greenway bring economic prosperity to a place like Oakwood. They bring jobs, and families, a broadened tax base, hope for the future of our community.”
I needed some Maalox. “Not everyone agrees with you on that, though. Councilman Underwood, for example, and Sam Spender. Greenway’s had to deal with formidable opposition to his subdivision, particularly the last phase near Willow Creek. He must really appreciate having someone like you, in a position of influence, on the council and all, on his side.”
“Are you insinuating something?”
“You tell me. You’re boffing his secretary. That seems like a pretty good inducement to vote in favor of his development. My guess is, keeping you entertained is part of Stefanie’s job description. But just in case you start getting an attack of the guilts, or ever decide to vote against Valley Forest Estates, Greenway has a little something in reserve, these pictures, to make sure you do exactly what he wants you to do.”
“Oh God,” Carpington said, cupping his hands over nose and mouth. “Oh God oh God oh God.”
