“Did he make you show Company ID?”
“Yes. You knew he would. That means I’ll have to write a report on this meeting.”
Rawls nodded. “Can I have the letter back? That way, you won’t have to turn it in.” He handed her another letter. “This one reads better, I think.”
Kate glanced at it. It was a more conventional note, saying that he missed seeing her and wanted to apologize in person. She removed his original note from its envelope, handed it to him, then replaced it with the second letter. “All right, Ed, what is it?” She had not seen him for twelve years, not since he had pleaded to a single charge of espionage and been sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. She had been entirely responsible for putting him in prison. Once, they had been friends, confidants; he had been her mentor in the Agency. After the passage of so much time, she felt no anger toward him anymore, but she was determined to be cold and businesslike.
“This is a funny place these days,” he said, looking around. “It was closed some years back, then parts of it were reopened for various populations. It’s still more than three-quarters empty.”
Kate said nothing.
“Millie remarried, you know.”
“I heard.”
“Pete Warburton, one of the old crowd. After so many years, she didn’t know anybody that wasn’t Company.”
“I suppose not.” She wished he’d get on with it, but he had the upper hand, and she couldn’t rush him too much.
“I’m seventy-one, you know,” Rawls continued. “I gave Millie pretty much everything, but I hung on to an old family place in Maine, at Dark Harbor, on the island of Islesboro. Do you know it?”
“I visited you and Millie there, once.”
Rawls chuckled. “I’d forgotten. An old school chum of mine rents it for me, keeps a roof on it and the garden weeded. Puts what little profit there is in the bank for me. I still have some savings; I pleaded guilty so I wouldn’t have to spend it on lawyers. I’d like to spend the rest of my years in Dark Harbor, winter and summer. I always loved the Maine winter.”
“Would anybody speak to you?” she asked.
“A few people would,” he replied. “Fewer each year.”
“It sounds as though you have a plan to get out of here.”
“Just the beginning of one,” he said. “I want a presidential pardon. That’s where you come in.”
“Ed, be realistic; the Agency would oppose a pardon, and they wouldn’t let me do anything to further one.”
“I know about Joe Adams,” Rawls said.
“What are you talking about, Ed?” This was why she had come, to ask this question.
“I know he’s ill.”
Kate was stunned. She and Will had only found out about it the day before; how could a federal prisoner know it even sooner? The postmark on Ed’s letter was three days old. “Ed...”
“You wouldn’t be here if you and Will didn’t know about it, would you? It was all I had to get you here. It’s all I have, period.”
“Ed, what do you want of me?”
“This is how I see it playing out,” Rawls said. “Adams drops out of the race, Will runs, Will gets elected.” He turned and looked at her. “Will pardons me.”
“Do you really think you can blackmail Will through me?”
Rawls shook his head vehemently. “I don’t want to blackmail him; I want to help him. I think Will’s a good man and a fine senator; I want to see him be president. I can help put him there.”
“Ed, you’re delusional.”
“One Republican politician already knows about Joe,” he said.
Kate could not prevent a sharp intake of breath.
“Exactly. He’s holding his peace, at the moment, but he may decide to move. Let’s say he’s having a little tussle with his conscience.”
“How the hell could you possibly know all this?”
Rawls chuckled. “Everybody thinks when you’re in prison, you’re out of it. I know a guy in here who’s built a substantial fortune in the stock market from a laptop in his cell; I know another one who knows about fixed horse races, who makes big bets. I know guys with cell phones in their pockets. There are all kinds of people in here, Kate; they’re smart, they’re bored, and they’re on the make, just like people on the outside. Just like me.”
“What are you proposing, Ed?”
“I can tip you early to some events, possibly even influence them. I may even be able to prevent this Republican politician from revealing what he’s learned about Joe Adams.”
“I can’t be a party to this, Ed,” Kate said, “and neither can Will. I’m not going to trade you my influence with my husband for your help; I’m just not.”
Rawls smiled. “I didn’t expect you to, Kate. You don’t have to be a party to anything. I’m going to do whatever I can to help Will get elected, and if he is elected, and if I helped get him there, then all I want from you is a word in his ear when he’s in office.”
Kate started to speak, but he held up a hand.
“You don’t have to make me any promises; I’ll rely on your sense of fairness and your good heart. You and I have no deals — I’m not proposing any. Will’s conscience will be clear, and so will yours.”
Kate stood up. “I have to go, Ed. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation never took place. We just chatted for a few minutes. I’ll send in my report, and I won’t mention the pardon business.”
Rawls stood up, too. “That’s fine. You’ll hear from me from time to time — untraceable messages, nothing that could possibly get you into trouble. I’ll use a code name: Jonah.” He grinned. “In the belly of the beast.”
Kate held up a hand. “Don’t, Ed, please don’t.”
“And when it’s all over, I know you’ll do the right thing.”
“How do I get out of here?”
Rawls walked to the door through which Kate had entered and rapped on it sharply. A moment later, Assistant Warden Hill opened it and beckoned for Kate to follow him.
Kate didn’t say good-bye to Rawls, didn’t even look back.
She ran the meeting over and over in her mind as she drove back to Delano. She could fudge her report on the meeting; Ed’s second letter would help with that. Somebody would interview her about it; she could handle that part. What she couldn’t handle was Ed Rawls. He was smart as a whip and as skilled in intelligence work as any man alive. He would do what he was going to do, and she couldn’t stop him. Even if she called the warden and had him locked down until after the election, he would find a way. But how much did he know? He had said that Joe Adams was “ill,” but did he know the nature of the illness?
She would not tell Will any of this. That she could not do.
7
Will left the farm and drove into Delano, to his and his father’s law office. The firm of Lee & Lee had been central to the family’s life since Billy had founded it after his return from World War II. It provided a business center for the family and outside income from cases, local and statewide, which had helped the Lees build a comfortable life. Now the firm was called Lee, Lee & Robertson, to include their partner of recent years, Tim Robertson, who, since Billy’s virtual retirement and Will’s election to the Senate, had essentially run the firm.
Will was stopped half a dozen times between his parking place and the front door of the little office building they had erected years before. Everyone in town knew him, of course, and he knew practically everyone. Small talk of families and friends was exchanged, and, finally, he made it into the building. His office was neat and dusted, and a stack of mail and telephone messages was waiting for him. He went through it quickly. Apart from a personal letter or two from old friends, most of it was requests for constituent services. He stuffed those into a large envelope and marked it for forwarding to his Atlanta constituency office, then turned to the phone messages, answering a couple and scribbling notes for Tim Robertson or his secretary to answer the others. The last message in the pile gave him pause. It read, “Charlene Joiner would like to speak with you urgently,” and the return number was in the 310 area code.