Deadlock

2

A

“I want two of those,” A

“Tough day?” Cosmos asked.

“Usual. Had to bust some chops.”

“Ooh, you sound like Joe Pesci or something.”

“Joe Pesci?”

“You know, like some Mafia guy.”

A

“So, are you some Mafia guy?” Cosmo asked.

“You’re weird.”

“Or are you dating some Mafia guy?”

A

“I don’t know, your mysterious boyfriend and all. It’s like a movie. I was trying to think, why won’t she tell me? It’s because he’s Mafia, or a Republican, or something like that. Maybe you’re seeing a Catholic priest, I don’t know. You won’t tell me.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you.”

“I thought so.”

“He’s in construction. In New York.”

“Construction?”

“Buildings. He builds buildings.” It was better that Cosmo didn’t know. Someday, maybe.

“Like a Donald Trump?”

“Sure, like Donald Trump.”

“The guy loaded?”

“He’s got some money.”

“When can I meet him?”

“Sometime. Enough about him. What about – ” She stopped when someone dropped onto the chair next to her. She gave a quick glance and saw a man staring at her. Markey.

She almost slipped off her chair.

“Hi,” he said.

“Who’s this?” Cosmo asked.

“Detective Markey,” he said. “Glad to know you.”

A

“This is a public place.”

“I’m having a private conversation.”

“I just need a minute or two,” Markey said. The female bartender asked him what he’d like. “Ginger ale,” he said.

“Maybe I should go,” Cosmo said.

“No,” A

“Maybe that would be best,” Markey said. “Just for a minute or two.”

Something in Markey’s look told A

“Just call me later,” Cosmo said. She dropped a five dollar bill on the bar and walked off.

“Thanks a lot,” A

“Just doing my job.”

“As what? Keeper of the cop cliché book?”

“I don’t want this to be unpleasant.”

“It already is. Detail me.”

He looked at her quizzically.

“Tell me what this is all about,” A

“Your boss, Senator Sam Levering. A year and half ago there was talk about a bimbo eruption. Remember that?”

A

Markey went on. “Three women were supposedly going to come forward and make statements about Levering and his, well, his peculiar tastes in the bedroom. I’ve got the names written somewhere. Want me to find them?”

“Just go on,” A

“Anyway, there was noise made about these three going on Larry King and spilling their guts. It was apparently the work of a very conservative lawyer out in Tulsa who did not like Levering one bit. But the story never got on the air. Remember why?”

A

“This lawyer was suddenly caught with a sixteen-year-old prostitute out on Highway 20. And then the women clam up.”

“The guy was trying to make money and a name for himself,” A

“And three women change their stories?”

“Happens.”

“Sure it does. When somebody gets to them.”

A woman screamed from across the room. A

“Must have been a fu

“This whole conversation is a fu

“I always wondered about that lawyer,” Markey said. “It wasn’t my jurisdiction, of course, but I take an interest in things. I make co

“No,” she lied.

“The street guy. Elijah.”

“Oh, him. What about him?”

“We can’t find him now.”

Ever since she could remember, A

This detective had no idea who he was dealing with, and little mind games weren’t going to get to her.

“That’s too bad,” A

“You wouldn’t happen to have any information on where he might be, would you?”

“Of course not.”

“I mean, the guy you spray has a co

“Oh, come on, Detective,” A

“Why not?”

With a perfectly calm voice, A

Markey frowned. Perfect.

“I went back, as you suggested, and checked my book and Senator Levering’s. We had a strategy meeting at his place. We ate pizza and drank Diet Cokes, although I will admit to you the senator gave his a little dash of bourbon every now and then. We watched Nightline and then worked until about two in the morning. Any further questions?”

Markey blinked at her a couple of times. “Yes,” he said. “What was on Nightline that night?”

A

“I’ll check on it,” Markey said.

“You do that.”

He drained his ginger ale and left, looking, A

3

“Like the bartender said to the horse,” Helen said. “Why the long face?”

“Is it that long?” Millie asked.

“Like a list of crooked congressmen.”

“Sorry. I haven’t been good company so far, have I?”

“This is a time to celebrate,” Helen said. The exclusive restaurant Helen had chosen was just over the Virginia line and had the flavor of the Old South.

When Millie did not say anything, Helen added, “You are ecstatic about this, aren’t you? I mean, as if Mel Gibson walked up to you and asked you to model lingerie?”

Millie looked at her oldest friend in D.C. I don’t know her at all, really, she thought. How many times had they ever talked about their deepest concerns and desires? Helen was in many ways a private person. She let people in only a little, and then only when it seemed to serve her purposes.

But then, that was how Millie was too, she realized. Now, those barriers needed to be broken. “Something has changed for me,” Millie began carefully.

Helen peered at Millie over her raised wineglass, which she held in the fingers of both hands. “Changed?”

“Yes.”

“We talking menopause here?”

“No, not that, I – ”

“Because if we are I have some drugs that – ”

“That’s not it.” Millie felt suddenly reluctant, but the boat had left the shore. She had to go with it. “I had some time to think in Santa Lucia.”