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"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Quentin gave your aide the photographs last night," Gillette answered. There was no need to be evasive. It was time to hit Stockman between the eyes. "I'm sure you've seen them by now." He watched Stockman clench his teeth, then take a deep breath. Trying to stay in control. The senator had a nasty temper, and Gillette could tell he was close to erupting. "Right?"
"Yes," Stockman admitted curtly.
"You've been seeing the Jones woman for a while, haven't you? In fact, you've brought her to Washington a few times."
"Well, haven't we been busy?" Stockman asked.
"All things done in the dark eventually come to light."
"Your father should have listened to that advice, son," Stockman said, and sneered. "If he had, he might still be alive. Or maybe you don't know why your mother drank so much."
Gillette's eyes flashed to Stockman's. It wasn't the first time someone had implied that his father's plane might have been sabotaged, and, for a moment, it threw him. Which he knew was exactly what Stockman wanted. To distract him. Maybe tempt him to trade pictures for information about the crash instead of the conspiracy.
"You should be glad I'm a rational man, Senator," Gillette finally said, his voice devoid of emotion, forcing himself to focus. "Glad this is only about you and me reaching an understanding that benefits me in business. Glad I don't have time for revenge."
"If all you wanted was to destroy my chance of being president, these d.a.m.n things would already be at The New York Times, The New York Times," Stockman said, reaching into a drawer and dropping the envelope full of photographs on the desktop. "I know that." He hesitated. "So, what do do you want?" you want?"
"Answers."
"Answers to what?"
"Are you and Paul Strazzi working together to force me out of Everest Capital?"
Stockman hesitated.
"If you answer my questions," Gillette continued forcefully, "I burn the duplicate set of those photographs. If you don't, The Times The Times will have them within the hour." will have them within the hour."
"Yes," Stockman answered quietly. "We've been working together."
"Why?"
"I want votes and Strazzi wants Everest. It's as simple as that. Plus, Paul hated Donovan," Stockman added. "There was that, too."
"What about Dominion Savings & Loan?"
"What about it?" Stockman hissed.
"There aren't really billions of bad loans at Dominion, are there?"
"It's your investment," Stockman retorted snidely. "You tell me."
"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, answer me."
Stockman clenched his teeth again.
"Senator."
"No, there aren't. No more than there are at any other savings and loan that size."
"Why does Congressman Allen think there are?"
"What do you mean?" Stockman asked, grimacing as he glanced at one of the photographs.
"I saw the press conference yesterday afternoon. Allen claimed he had evidence that there were billions."
"Allen owes me."
"Still, I don't think a prominent congressman calls a press conference and accuses the partners at Everest Capital of fraud without doc.u.mentation-no matter how much he owes you. He could be writing his own ticket out of Washington."
Stockman mulled over the question. "Okay, we had help."
"Where?"
"Inside Dominion."
"What kind of help?"
"Earlier this week, somebody ran a few official-looking reports indicating that the loan portfolio was in terrible shape. Grossly inflating bad loans. I gave Allen that report."
"Who was the person inside Dominion who ran the false reports?"
"I don't know," Stockman snapped. "I wasn't involved in that. That was Strazzi's responsibility."
"Who's Strazzi using inside Everest?" Gillette demanded.
Stockman's eyes flashed to Gillette's.
"Come on, Senator. You must have someone inside Everest, too. That's the only way Strazzi would have been able to convince a senior person inside Dominion to cooperate, to run those reports for Allen."
Stockman looked around the office like a caged animal. "Marcie Reed."
Gillette made certain not to react, despite being elated to have nailed the rat. He'd deal with her later. "A few more-" His cell phone rang and he pulled it out quickly. Isabelle. He'd bought her a cell phone yesterday and, like a child, she couldn't stop using it. He shut off the ring and shoved the phone back in his pocket. He was going to see her in a few hours anyway. "Is this Dominion scam something Strazzi's been planning for a long time?" he asked.
Stockman drew a measured breath. "No. Strazzi was just being opportunistic," he answered deliberately. "I know he's been trying to figure out a way to take Bill Donovan down for a long time. But, like I said, in terms of Dominion, he just took advantage of the situation."
"You mean you don't think he had Donovan killed," Gillette said bluntly.
"That thought never crossed my mind."
"Bulls.h.i.t, Senator. That's exactly what you were thinking. Because it makes so much sense. Without Donovan around, Marcie Reed can pin the bad loans on him, claim he was the one who knew and didn't tell anyone. Am I right?"
Stockman stared at Gillette, a blank expression on his face.
"You really only have to convince one person there are problems at Dominion," Gillette pointed out. "And that's Ann Donovan. So she'll sell her Everest stake to Strazzi for a rock-bottom price. Then he can throw me out with that huge voting bloc of hers. Right?" he asked again, boring in on the truth. "Once Strazzi has her stake, you don't care if the world finds out that the story about the bad loans isn't true. It doesn't matter then. I mean, Allen will be hot as h.e.l.l, but what do you care? You've probably got something on him that's ten times worse than the fraudulent report you provided him. So, what's he going to say? Nothing," Gillette answered his own question. "I would have come after him with everything I had for s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g our reputation. But if the plan had worked, I wouldn't have been around to do that. Strazzi would have been chairman. After Strazzi takes over, you tell Allen he has nothing to worry about, that you'll protect him. He's p.i.s.sed, and he loses a little credibility, but the public has a short memory." Gillette stared hard at Stockman. "That's how it was supposed to go down, right?"
"Yes," Stockman agreed.
"You provided access to Allen. In return, you got Strazzi's support, including his multibillion-dollar money bag, I'm a.s.suming. That's why you weren't concerned about being able to raise campaign money when we had lunch. You knew you had whatever you needed."
"Nice work, Detective."
"How long has Marcie Reed been working with Strazzi?" Gillette asked.
The senator shrugged.
"Come on."
"Six months."
"How long have you you been working with him?" been working with him?"
"Longer than Marcie Reed."
"Did Donovan know about you and Strazzi working together to take him down?" Gillette asked, thinking about what McGuire had told him, how Donovan had found out something nasty about Stockman.
"Yeah," Stockman admitted. "He found out about it three months ago. He had someone on the payroll in my office here in New York who reported back to him. I fired the f.u.c.ker when I found out what was going on."
"So why did you approach me at the funeral reception about supporting you?"
"I don't understand."
"You already had Strazzi with you," Gillette pointed out. "If I'd agreed to help you, I'm a.s.suming you wouldn't have given Allen the fraudulent Dominion loan reports. But then you would have lost Strazzi and all his money."
"I wasn't convinced Strazzi's plan to fleece the widow was going to work," Stockman answered. "Besides, what I wanted most most was your TV and radio networks. I can always raise money when the media endorses me." was your TV and radio networks. I can always raise money when the media endorses me."
Gillette stood up. Marcie and Kyle were meeting him at Everest, and there was something he needed to do before they arrived. "I'll be in touch," he said, reaching the door.
"Well?" Stockman asked, standing up, too.
"Well, what?"
"I answered your questions. Give me the other set of photos."
Gillette stopped and turned around. "Let me ask you one more time. Did Strazzi have Bill Donovan killed?"
Stockman shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "Paul's a tough son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h, but he wouldn't take it that far."
Gillette gazed at Stockman for a few moments, then motioned to Stiles. "Let's go."
"Hey!" Stockman roared. "What about the photographs?"
Gillette glanced back again. "Senator, I'm not sure I'm done with you yet."
As they waited for the elevator in the hallway outside Stockman's office, Gillette and Stiles were silent. But after they'd gotten into the car and the door had closed, Gillette spoke up. "Send the photographs to The Daily News The Daily News Monday afternoon. We'll claim we don't know anyone at Monday afternoon. We'll claim we don't know anyone at The News, The News, and we have no idea how they got them. Okay?" and we have no idea how they got them. Okay?"
"Yup."
Gillette checked his watch as he sat in front of Marcie's computer: 3:30. Marcie and Kyle were supposed to be here at 4:00 so he could go over the companies each of them would be taking charge of as chairperson. They'd grumbled about it being short notice-and Sat.u.r.day-but both had agreed to come.
He flipped on the computer, drumming his fingers on her desk as the CPU hummed to life. While the virus program scanned the hard drive, he picked up her phone and dialed the lobby.
"Yes?" Stiles was sitting at the front desk.
"Quentin, don't let anyone anyone past you until I say so." past you until I say so."
"You don't have to tell me twice."
"I'm in Marcie Reed's office."
"I know."
Gillette was about to hang up, then brought the phone back to his ear. "You know, if this security thing doesn't work out, you always have a job as the Everest receptionist."
"You're a h.e.l.luva guy, Christian."
Gillette grinned as he hung up and inputted Marcie's pa.s.sword. He kept everyone's pa.s.sword in a file on his computer, which updated automatically if anyone changed theirs. Early last week, he'd brought in a technology specialist from the outside to set up the program. The guy had promised him that the internal technology people at Everest would never detect what he'd done.
Gillette hit the Enter key, then went quickly to Marcie's e-mail, searching her messages for any correspondence related to Dominion. He wanted to have something other than Stockman's claim that she was Strazzi's rat, some tangible piece of evidence, because Marcie was tough. He a.s.sumed she wouldn't roll over at just an accusation.
Of course, she was probably going to join Apex as soon as Strazzi bought the widow's stake. She'd certainly inked that deal before agreeing to help Strazzi, so it wasn't as if threatening to fire her was going to get him anything. But if he had evidence that she'd helped Strazzi manipulate Dominion's share price, she'd have to answer to the SEC for securities fraud. The public had lost billions, and she'd be facing a long prison sentence. Under those circ.u.mstances, she'd talk.
He searched her incoming messages first, then the deleted ones. There were hundreds, and it would take time to do this thoroughly. He checked his watch again: 3:45. If he couldn't find anything now, he'd come in tomorrow and go through the files with a fine-tooth comb. He'd have plenty of privacy then.
Finally, Gillette searched the sent items folder, reading certain ones based on the subject line. Scanning quickly. As he scrolled down, one message caught his eye. He raced back up to it, having flashed past it in his haste. The subject was "Payments" and it had been sent to a MP Brands was one of Everest's portfolio companies, the one Kathy Hays worked for. His eyes narrowed. KHays had to stand for Kathy Hays-the woman he'd caught Mason with in the bas.e.m.e.nt of Donovan's mansion, the woman Lefors had told him about as he'd come out of Donovan's study.
Gillette clicked on the message.
"Christian." Stiles's voice blared through the intercom.
"What?"
"Marcie Reed just got off the elevator."
"Stall her," Gillette urged, his eyes flashing over the e-mail. It said: You'll be paid $250,000 when it happens, and $25,000 a month for six months after that. At the end of six months, you'll be on your own. You'll resign from MP Brands as soon as it happens.
Gillette checked the date and time of the e-mail-two weeks ago yesterday, at 1:45 in the afternoon. He glanced down and reread it.
So Strazzi had made certain Mason would be fired from Everest. He'd paid off Kathy Hays to set Mason up. Then Marcie had told Lefors at the reception that Kathy Hays was down in the bas.e.m.e.nt with Mason, knowing Lefors would run to Gillette with the information, knowing Lefors would instantly see an opportunity to have Mason fired and be promoted to managing partner.
Strazzi wanted Mason because he knew all about Everest, and he wanted Mason bitter so he'd give up that information readily. It had all worked perfectly until Jose had shown up at Mason's apartment and gotten the files. But, in the end, the widow had still agreed to sell out just because of Dominion.
Hopefully, there was still time to stop the transaction between Strazzi and the widow. Gillette was confident that if the widow understood what was really going on, she wouldn't sell-if for no other reason than because she'd realize her stake was worth much more than what Strazzi was offering, and that, when the real story came out, Dominion's stock price would climb back to where it had been before and the feds wouldn't go after Everest.
As Gillette quickly printed out a copy of the e-mail, he heard a commotion outside, growing louder and louder from down the corridor. He recognized Marcie's voice. She was yelling at someone.
He s.n.a.t.c.hed the copy of the e-mail from the printer and headed through the doorway, remembering as he moved past the executive a.s.sistant's desk outside Marcie's office that he'd left her computer on. As he turned around to shut it off, she and Stiles appeared around the corner. Stiles was trying to restrain her gently, but it wasn't working.