Regenstein stood up. “Well, Senator, we’d better be going; I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do.”
Will stood, too, shaking the man’s hand. “Thank you again, Lou, for all your help on this fund-raiser, and I haven’t thanked you properly for Centurion’s incredibly generous gift to the party.”
Everyone laughed.
“Will,” Charlene said, “can I have just a moment of private time with you?”
“Of course,” Will said, looking around the room for rescue. Kitty, Tim, and two Secret Service agents were with them, and Kitty was whispering to an agent.
Will shook Vance Calder’s hand again. “I’ll see you at the party; Kate and I are both looking forward to it.”
“Arrington is looking forward to seeing you again,” Calder said.
Everyone filed out of the room, except the Secret Service agent to whom Kitty had been whispering.
“Could we be alone for a moment, Will?” Charlene asked.
“I’m sorry, Charlene, but the Secret Service insists on being with me at all times.”
The agent nodded vigorously. “It’s policy, ma’am.”
Charlene looked annoyed, but she returned to her seat on the couch. Will sat on the sofa opposite.
“It’s good to see you doing so well out here, Charlene,” Will said. “Starring with Vance Calder — that’s something.”
“Oh, Vance is a dear,” she said. “I’ve been fucking him ever since we started work on our movie. He’s over at my trailer every day at lunchtime.”
Will was speechless. He glanced at the Secret Service agent, whose eyebrows had shot skyward.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Charlene said. “It’s a tradition at Centurion. Vance has always fucked his leading ladies.”
“What did you want to talk to me about, Charlene?” he asked. He hoped it was not about fucking Vance Calder.
“It’s about Larry Moody’s appeal,” Charlene said.
“Yes, I heard about that,” Will replied dryly.
“The people from the J. Edgar Hoover Institute called me and asked if I would ask you to file a brief as part of the appeal.”
Will was startled at the mention of the right-wing group. “What sort of brief?” he asked, baffled.
“Well, as you know, the basis of their appeal is that Larry had legal counsel that was...inadequate.”
“I believe ‘incompetent’ was the word they used.”
Yes, well, they’re hoping that you’ll file a brief confirming that your representation of Larry at his trial was less than your best. I mean, you had the senatorial campaign going, and Senator Carr was ill, and...”
“Are they insane?” Will demanded. “Do they really think for a moment that I would state to an appeals court that I am an incompetent attorney?”
“Now, Will, it’s just a matter of form, and it’s to save Larry’s life, that’s all.”
“It’s not a matter of form, Charlene. No self-respecting attorney would ever do such a thing. I’m sorry that your friend faces the electric chair, but he put himself there, first by raping and murdering a young woman, second by insisting on his innocence, instead of allowing me to plead to a lesser charge, in return for a reduction in sentence, and third, by lying to me from day one.”
“I know all that, Will, but I’m very fond of Larry; he helped me at a difficult time in my life, and I’m still grateful to him.”
“That speaks well of you, Charlene, that you would stand by your friend, but I’m afraid I can’t be of any help to you in this matter. You must understand that it’s absolutely impossible for me to do anything for Larry now.”
Charlene sighed deeply. “Well, if that’s your last word.”
“It is, I’m afraid.” Will stood up to encourage her to do so.
Charlene stood and came toward him, her arms out.
Will grabbed her by the shoulders and held her at a distance while he pecked her on the cheek. “It’s good to see you,” he said, steering her toward the door, “and I want to tell you again how grateful I am for your help with the fund-raiser. It was an incredibly generous thing to do.” They had reached the door, and the agent held it open.
“See you at the party,” Charlene said, and before Will could back away, she leaned forward and kissed him on the ear, using her tongue.
“Good night, Charlene,” Will said, trying to keep his voice steady and noting the expression on the face of Kitty Conroy, who was waiting to come in.
As Charlene passed out of the room, Kitty stepped in. “Can I get you a Q-tip?” she asked as the door closed.
“Thanks for keeping an agent here,” Will said.
“What did she want?”
“She wanted me to file a brief in Larry Moody’s appeal, admitting that I gave him incompetent representation.”
“Oh, is that all?” Kitty hooted. “And I thought she wanted your body.”
“Maybe she did,” Will said defensively. He dug the check out of his pocket. “I guess she thought the price was right.”
Kitty looked at the check. “Jesus Christ, I never thought I’d see such a thing in my whole life.”
“Just get it into the hotel safe, and don’t take any detours to Las Vegas on the way.”
“Don’t you worry,” Kitty said, reaching for the door, “and I’ll ask the Secret Service to post extra guards to keep Charlene out.”
40
Zeke presented himself for work as requested, and Hiller, who had hired him, walked him down to the floor of the Coliseum, where a large platform was under construction at one end of the space. Hiller called another man over.
“Hank, this is Harry Grant, who’s just coming to work for us. I think you might find him useful. Harry, this is Hank Greenbaum; Hank will be your foreman.”
Zeke shook the man’s hand. Ordinarily, Zeke would have refused to work with a Jew, but there was no point in creating a fuss about race right now.
“Good to meet you,” Hank said. “I hear you have quite a range of skills to offer us.”
“I’ll help wherever I can,” Zeke replied.
“Tell you what, climb up on that ladder there and tell me what you think of the framing plan of our platform.”
Zeke climbed up and surveyed the work for a couple of minutes, making mental notes. He came back down. “Who designed the framing?” he asked.
“A kid in our in-house design office.”
“Not a structural engineer?”
“No, we thought he could handle it.”
Zeke shook his head.
“You see a problem?” Hiller asked.
“How many people at a time are you likely to have standing on it?”
“Maybe as many as two hundred,” Hiller replied.
“And what are you flooring it with?”
“Half-inch plywood, then carpeting,” Hank replied.
Zeke shook his head again.
“You think it’s dangerous?”
“I think that, under a lot of weight, it could be a little rickety.”
“Let’s go take a closer look,” Hank said, “and you can tell me what you’d do to make it better.”
The three men walked under the platform and through the framing.
Zeke looked around. “You see how he’s got this series of boxes designed? I think we could make it a lot more rigid if we put cross-members in each box, and then I’d use three-quarter-inch plywood for the flooring. That ought to keep it rigid, and it would feel a lot more substantial underfoot, too.”
“I agree,” Hank said to Hiller, “but I’ll have to have approval for the extra expenditure. It shouldn’t be too bad; we can exchange the half-inch plywood for the three-quarter and get full credit. I might even be able to get them to throw in delivery.”
“Do it,” Hiller said, “and thank you, Harry; that was well spotted.”
Zeke shrugged.