'He might, this one time.'
'Why, Roy?'
'Because Durling is holding things up. He thinks he needs Kealty for his clout on the Hill. You notice that Eddie-boy has been in the White House a lot lately? Durling spilled it all to him so that he can firm up his defense. At least,' Newton said to cover himself, 'that's what people are telling me. It does seem a little out of character, doesn't it?'
'Obstruction of justice?'
'That's the legal term, Libby. Technically speaking, well, I'm not quite sure it meets the legal test.' Now the hook was well in the water, and the bait worm was wiggling very nicely. 'What if he was just holding it off to keep it from competing with the trade bill?' The fish was giving it a look, but wondering about the shiny, barbed thing behind the worm…
'This one goes back further than that, Libby. They've been sitting on it for quite a while, that's what I hear. It does make a great excuse, though, doesn't it?' It was a very enticing worm, though. 'If you think politics takes precedence over a sexual-assault case. How solid is the case?'
'If it goes in front of a jury, Ed Kealty is going to spend time in a federal penitentiary.'
'That solid?' My, what a juicy fat worm it was.
'Like you said, Murray's a good cop.'
'Who's the U.S. Attorney on the case?'
'Anne Cooper. She's been full-time on this for weeks.' One hell of a good worm, in fact. That barbed, shiny thing wasn't all that dangerous, was it?
Newton took an envelope from his pocket and set it on the tablecloth. 'Names, numbers, details, but you didn't get them from me, okay?' The worm appeared to dance in the water, and it was no longer apparent that the hook was the thing really moving.
'What if I can't verify anything?'
'Then there's no story, and my sources are wrong, and I hope you enjoyed dinner.' Of course, the worm might just go away.
'Why, Roy? Why you, why the story?' Circling, circling. But how did this worm ever get here?
'I've never liked the guy. You know that. We butted heads on two big irrigation bills, and he killed a defense project in my state. But you really want to know why? I have daughters, Libby. One's a senior at U-Penn. Another one's just starting University of Chicago Law School. They both want to follow in their dad's footsteps, and I don't want my little girls staffing on the Hill with bastards like Ed Kealty around.' Who really cared how the worm got in the water, anyway?
With a knowing nod, Libby Holtzman took the envelope. It went into her purse without being opened. Amazing how they never noticed the hook until it was too late. Sometimes not even then. The waiter was disappointed when both diners passed on the dessert cart, settling for just a quick espresso before paying the bill.
'Hello?'
'Barbara Linders?' a female voice asked.
'Yes. Who's this?'
'Libby Holtzman from the Post. I live a few blocks away from you. I'd like to know if I might come over and talk about a few things.'
'What things?'
'Ed Kealty, and why they've decided not to prosecute this case.'
'They what?'
'That's what we're hearing,' the voice told her.
'Wait a minute. They warned me about this,' Linders said suspiciously, already giving part of the game away.
'They always warn you about something, usually the wrong thing. Remember, I was the one who did the story last year about Congressman Grant and that nasty little thing he had going on in his district office? And I was also the one who nailed that bastard undersecretary in Interior. I keep a close eye on cases like this, Barbara,' the voice said, sister-to-sister. It was true.
Libby Holtzman had nearly bagged a Pulitzer for her reporting on political sex-abuse cases.
'How do I know it's really you?'
'You've seen me on TV, right? Ask me over and you'll see. I can be there in five minutes.'
'I'm going to call Mr. Murray.'
'That's fine. Go ahead and call him, but promise me one thing?'
'What's that?'
'If he tells you the same thing about why they're not doing anything, then we can talk.' The voice paused. 'In fact, how about I come over right now anyway? If Dan tells you the right thing, we can just have a cup of coffee and do some background stuff for later. Fair enough?'
'Okay…I guess that's okay. I have to call Mr. Murray now.' Barbara Linders hung up and dialed another number from memory.
'Hi, this is Dan—'
'Mr. Murray!' Barbara said urgently, her faith in the world so badly shaken already.
'—and this is Liz,' another voice said, obviously now on tape. 'We can't come to the phone right now…' both voices said together—
'Where are you when I need you?' Ms. Linders demanded of the recording machine, hanging up in a despairing fury before the humorous recording delivered her to the beep. Was it possible? Could it be true?
Barbara Linders looked around the room. She'd been in Washington for eleven years. What did she have to show for it? A one-bedroom apartment with prints on the wall. Nice furniture that she used alone. Memories that threatened her sanity. She was so alone, so damned alone with them, and she had to let them go, get them out, strike back at the man who had wrecked her life so thoroughly. And now that would be denied her, too? Was it possible?
The most frightening thing of all was that Lisa had felt this way. She knew that from the letter she'd kept, a photocopy of which was still in the jewelry box on her bureau. She'd kept it both as a keepsake of her best friend and to remind herself not to go as dangerously far into despair as Lisa had. Reading that letter a few months ago had persuaded her to open up to her gynecologist, who had in turn referred her to Clarice Golden, starting the process that had led her-where? The door buzzed then, and Barbara went to answer it.
'Hi! Recognize me?' The question was delivered with a warm and sympathetic smile. Libby Holtzman was a tall woman with thick ebony hair that framed a pale face and warm brown eyes.
'Please come in,' Barbara said, backing away from the door.
'Did you call Dan?'
'He wasn't home…or maybe he just left the machine on,' Barbara thought. 'You know him?'
'Oh, yes. Dan's an acquaintance,' Libby said, heading toward the couch.
'Can I trust him? I mean, really trust him.'
'Honestly?' Holtzman paused. 'Yes. If he were running the case all by himself, yes, you could. Dan's a good man. I mean that.'
'But he's not running the case by himself, is he?'
Libby shook her head. 'It's too big, too political. The other thing about Murray is, well, he's a very loyal man. He does what he's told. Can I sit down, Barbara?'
'Please.' Both sat on the couch.
'You know what the press does? It's our job to keep an eye on things. I like Dan. I admire him. He really is a good cop, an honest cop, and I'll bet you that everything he's done with you, well, he's acted like your big tough brother, hasn't he?'
'Every step of the way,' Barbara confirmed. 'He's been my best friend in all the world.'
'That wasn't a lie. He's one of the good guys. I know his wife, Liz, too. The problem is, not everyone is like Dan, and that's where we come in,' Libby told her.
