Capitol Murder (39 page)

“So you’re advising me . . . to avoid common sense?”

“I’m not advising you of anything. That would be grossly improper. I’m just giving you a
geography lesson.” The bell dinged, and the doors finally opened. “See you in court, Mr.
Kincaid.”

Sure, Ben thought, nodding. And have a nice day.

It was decided, then. Christina was doing the most important direct examination of them
all—the defendant, Senator Todd Glancy.

Predictably, since she and Ben had finalized the decision last night, she hadn’t been able to
sleep at all. It was not possible to overestimate the importance of this testimony; they had no
choice now but to put him on, and they had no chance of winning if it didn’t go well. But it made
sense for Christina to handle it. First of all, they knew the judge and jury had been appalled by
all the talk of sex, weird sex, and violence against women. If Christina acted as if she was
Glancy’s friend and supporter, if she showed that she, a woman, trusted him and believed him and
even liked him, that could help assuage some of the jurors’ ill feelings toward him. Moreover, it
was certain that Padolino would want to ask Glancy about each and every sexual allegation in
detail, now that he was being accused of being some sort of twisted hybrid of JFK and the
Terminator. He’d probably cross more about the sex than the murder; it was his strongest punch
going into the final round. But if it was a woman asking the questions and objecting, it was just
possible he might tone down some of the most lurid, most inflammatory language and
accusations.

Worth a try, anyway.

As Christina entered the courtroom, she was shocked to see Shandy Craig, the turncoat intern,
sitting behind the prosecution table. She was seated beside Lieutenant Albertson, the detective
who had first investigated the murder. They seemed to be getting along famously.

Christina planned to pass by her without comment, but when their eyes met, and Shandy gave her
a sort of sneering turn of the lips, Christina couldn’t restrain herself. “I’m surprised you have
the wherewithal to show your face in this courtroom.”

Shandy took it in stride. “All I did was tell the truth. Only a lawyer would think there was
something wrong with that.”

“Don’t try to cast yourself as some crusader,” Christina snapped. “You lied. You spied. You
pretended to be something you weren’t. A friend.”

“And a good thing I did,” Shandy said defiantly. “If I hadn’t, your client might’ve gotten
away with murder.”

“My client is not a murderer. And you have no basis for being proud about sneaking around a
man’s office, sniffing for evidence to use against him, while pretending to be a confidante.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Albertson said, cutting in. He was just as rude to her as
he’d been the day the body was discovered. “The DA knew all about this plan—and approved it. For
that matter, so did I.”

Christina hesitated for a moment. Albertson was in on this little sting? Now that she noticed,
he and Shandy did appear to be sitting rather close together. Unusually close together.

Well, she had no time for that. She pulled out her files and outlines, the courtroom began to
fill, and she took note of all the familiar faces. Almost everyone who had testified, anyone who
had been a part of this case, was present. All the senator’s staff. His wife. Several other
congressmen, including the not-for-long junior senator from Oklahoma and Arkansas’s MacReady.
Even Darrin Cooper, the victim’s father, was present, sitting in the back row, although she
noticed one of the several security officers on guard was standing very close beside him. She
only hoped they’d stripped him down to his shorts the way they did Ben.

It seemed everyone wanted to hear Senator Glancy testify. What could he possibly say in light
of the horrific charges that had been leveled against him?

Glancy was escorted into the courtroom and Ben followed close behind. “Ready to go, slugger?”
he said, laying a hand on Christina’s shoulder.

“As I’ll ever be.” Christina took several deep breaths, trying to steady herself, as she
watched the bailiff enter through the rear door and call the court to order.

Let the games begin.

“Senator Glancy, we’ve all seen the video and we’ve heard the testimony of various witnesses.
Were you in fact having an affair with Veronica Cooper?”

“Yes,” he answered. He looked at the jurors levelly, composed, soft-spoken. Earnest, but not
so much so that he seemed to be trying too hard. Like his wife, Christina observed, he knew how
to handle himself, how to communicate to an audience. Which was only to be expected from a
politician of his experience, she supposed. “If you can call it that. We had sex on several
occasions. I thought I was the only one; I didn’t know about all these other men, or her
involvement with these clubs and . . . vampires, or whatever they are. And I certainly did not
know about her drug addiction.”

“What are your feelings now about your relationship with Ms. Cooper?”

“I deeply regret it. And I want to publicly apologize, not only to the people in this room but
to all my constituents, for my conduct. What I did was wrong, inexcusable. I made a terrible
mistake. And I am sorry.”

Padolino rose to his feet. “Move to strike the witness’s apology, if that’s what it was.
Irrelevant.”

“Sustained,” Herndon replied.

“Would you have acted differently if you had known about her addiction?”

“Of course. I would never have engaged in a relationship with someone who might not be in her
right mind. I would’ve tried to get her some help.” He heard some audible scoffing from the
prosecution table. “You know, these people have tried to portray me as some sort of predator,
someone who wanted to hurt Veronica. Nothing could be further from the truth. I was trying to
help her. Several of the other applicants for her job were more qualified, but I knew that
Veronica had a troubled past, a bad childhood, an absentee father. Dirt poor, raised in one of
the worst neighborhoods imaginable. I was trying to help her, to give her a chance to better
herself. I didn’t plan the intimate relationship. It developed over time. We worked a lot
together, spent many long hours together . . . and it just happened.” He paused. “She was
obviously not a virgin when the affair began, and it in no way affected our work. And I might
add, what we did was entirely consensual. In fact, she was the initial instigator. Even in that
video, awful as it is, I think you can see that she was ready and willing to have sex.”

That’s enough of that, Christina thought. Move on.

“I don’t want to sound self-righteous,” Glancy continued, still maintaining his cool, measured
tone, “but this really is a case of no good turn going unpunished. If I had forsaken Veronica for
one of those spoiled rich kids that usually get these positions, none of this would ever have
happened.”

Christina tried the Ben trick—watching the jury out the corner of her eye. Were they buying
any of this? Too soon to tell.

“The detective who previously testified indicated that in the months preceding Veronica
Cooper’s death, you had romantic liaisons with other women as well.”

“And in most of those cases, he’s wrong.” Glancy raised his chin, adding a bit of strength to
his demeanor. “That’s so typical of a detective. Anytime they see a man and a woman enter a room
together alone, they assume there’s going to be hanky-panky. I find his assumptions sexist and
offensive, particularly in this day and age. I notice he didn’t claim to have seen anything
through a window, even though he appears to be a career Peeping Tom. What he saw, for the most
part, was business meetings. I am a workaholic—anyone who knows me can tell you that—and I often
work late into the night. Sometimes that work involves meeting people, and sometimes those people
are women. Is that a surprise when there are so many female professionals in DC these days?
Sometimes those meetings are in hotels, especially when the guests are out-of-towners, but we’re
talking about places like the Watergate, not Motel 6. I mean, honestly—if I wanted to have an
affair with someone, would I go to a hotel? In this town? Of course not. Everyone here knows me
on sight. I never did that with Veronica and I would never do it with anyone else.”

“I noticed you said most of the detective’s accusations were untrue,” Christina said,
anticipating Padolino’s cross. “Was there an exception?”

“One, yes.” He lowered his head and seemed supremely ashamed. “A one-night stand. With another
Senate employee. I am not going to give her name for obvious reasons. But I have told my wife
about it. We’ve discussed it and come to terms with it. I’ve agreed to get some help. As soon as
this trial is over—if I’m able—I plan to obtain counseling for sex addiction. Or maybe it’s power
addiction, I don’t know. Whatever it is, I understand that I have a problem, and with my wife’s
help I’m going to overcome it.” He raised his hands. “And that’s the way it should be. This is a
family matter. It’s private, or should be, even when it involves public figures. It’s really
nobody else’s business.”

Christina paused, letting the jury soak that in. She knew he wouldn’t change any minds in the
press gallery, but it was just possible he might speak to one of the jurors—especially any who
might’ve had an affair themselves, or who’d had a secret revealed they’d just as soon had stayed
private.

“I appreciate what you’re saying, Senator. But I’m afraid there is one other matter I have to
ask you about. One other woman. One of the prosecution witnesses, Steve Melanfield, the lobbyist
who admitted he was a political opponent of yours, claims to have seen you engaged in a sexual
act with a woman named Delia Collins.”

“Absolutely untrue,” Glancy said defiantly. “I met with Ms. Collins on many occasions. My
heart bled for her. She had a terminal illness, but she just couldn’t accept her fate. She was
chasing after all these quack miracle cures—you can’t believe how many leeches there are taking
advantage of people who have been diagnosed with terminal illnesses. She wanted her insurance
company to pay for these treatments. I understood where she was coming from, but if an insurance
company gave in to that once, they’d soon have a landslide of similar claims. Everyone’s premiums
would go up. The companies might well go bankrupt.”

“To be specific,” Christina said, drawing him out of politics and back to the case, “Mr.
Melanfield testified that he saw you in your office receiving sexual favors from Ms.
Collins.”

“He’s wrong,” Glancy replied. “And as I recall, he admitted he never saw my face. I don’t know
what he saw or indeed if he saw anything at all. But I know this—it wasn’t me.” He stopped,
lowering his eyes. “I would never have taken advantage of that dear, strong woman. I was
devastated a few months later when I read that she had succumbed to her illness.”

Well, they had pretty well covered sex, Christina thought. Now could they possibly talk about
the murder?

“Senator Glancy, your wife has testified that when she learned of the existence of the
videotape, she gathered funds for the purpose of paying off Ms. Cooper. And she also says she
told you about her plan. Is this true?”

“It is. But I disagreed with her actions. I didn’t want to pay the woman a cent.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think it’s appropriate to pay blackmail, especially when you’re an elected official.
Or married to one. It only encourages more of the same. And it seems clear now that Veronica
intended to blow the money on drugs. With all due respect to my dear wife, paying Veronica off
was a mistake.”

“Did you attempt to prevent your wife from making the payoff?”

Glancy smiled a little. “Christina, I don’t have the power to prevent my wife from doing
anything. I’m not sure there’s anyone on earth who does. But I took actions of my own.”

“And what would that be?”

“I called Veronica. Made an appointment to meet her at the Senate the next day. The day she
was killed.”

Now that got a reaction from the jury. Christina wasn’t sure if they believed him, but at
least they were listening.

“Did she agree to meet with you?”

“She did. That’s why I made the notation in the Gutenberg—my day planner. That’s why she was
at the Senate that day, even though she didn’t come in for work. And that’s why I left the Health
Committee meeting.”

“Then you admit that you met her that day.”

“I admit that I tried. But I didn’t set up any rendezvous in my hideaway. That would be
stupid. I arranged to meet her in the Senate Dining Room. A public place, but one where reporters
are not allowed and the staff can be counted on to be discreet. I left by the backstairs door,
true, but I turned right, not left, and made my way to the dining room, not to the basement. I
don’t know who Shandy saw or heard when she was doing her Mata Hari routine, but it wasn’t me. I
was in the dining room wondering why Veronica hadn’t shown up.”

“She never arrived?”

“Never. After a while, I returned to the committee meeting, but when it broke for lunch I went
back to the dining room, just in case she came late. Stayed there for a long time—you remember.
That was when I first met you. I finally returned to my office, and that was when I learned to my
horror that Veronica was dead.”

Christina closed her notebook. That about covered it. Just one more very important question to
ask. “Senator Glancy, did you kill Veronica Cooper?”

“Absolutely not. I would never do that. Never. Not to her or anyone else.”

“Thank you, sir,” Christina said. That had gone well, she thought. But of course, the hard
part was yet to come.

She looked across the courtroom to the prosecution table. “Pass the witness.”

“Wha—wha—where am I?”

Slowly the opaque haze lifted from his head, his eyes. Everything throbbed, every part of him.
The light hurt his eyes, so he closed them. He had no idea where he was or what had happened. All
he knew for sure was that he was alive. And very surprised to be.