Implant. Part 12

"Okay, " he said over his shoulder. "Your loss. But don't say I didn't offer to help."

"I won't, " she said softly as she stretched a trembling finger toward the DOWN b.u.t.ton.

She dammed up the rage and humiliation as she waited. It wasn't supposed to be like this, wasn't supposed to work this way.

The car finally came, the doors closed behind her and the box began its slow fall. Alone, sealed off, she wanted to scream, wanted to sob.

She did neither. She wiped a single tear from her right eye and whispered one word.

"d.a.m.n." She found Gerry waiting for her in the atrium. She forced asmile and hoped her eyes weren't red.

"What are you doing here? " "Waiting for you. What else? " He looked good. Even at the end of a workday with a little five-o'clock shadow stippling his cheeks, he looked d.a.m.n good. But the excitement Gin had felt the last couple of times they were together was missing today.

She didn't want to be with anyone now.

"But how did you know? " "You told me. Remember? On the phone?

Maybe five hours ago? " "Oh. Right." Her mind wasn't working too well at the moment.

"So how about a drink? " A polite demurral began in her throat but she held it back. She'd been injured and her instincts urged her to retreat to a corner and be alone.

But that was what Pasta would have done.

"Sure. I'd love one."

"Great. I know just the place. We'll take a shortcut." He took her arm and led her toward the rear of the Hart Building. "A celebratory drink, I hope."

"No, " she said slowly.

"I'm afraid not."

"You're kidding. Whar? ' "I"II tell you about it." * * * Gerry clenched and unclenched his fists under the table as Gin told her story.

They sat at an isolated table near the window. He'd broughr her to the Sommelier, a little wine bar on Ma.s.s, because he'd learned that she preferred wine to liquor, and had a fondness for Italian reds.

Gerry preferred Irish sipping whiskey, preferably Black Bush. But if wine was the only thing, he usually toughed it out with white zinfandel.

No wine sn.o.b he.

He could see Gin was hurt. She spoke softly, almost matter-offactly, over her gla.s.s of valpolicella, swirling then sipping it, swirling and sipping. Her voice was steady, as were her hands, she looked perfectly composed. But Gerry sensed the pain.

As his mood darkened, he wished he hadn't brought her here. Thegleaming surfaces of the polished bra.s.s and chrome and marble of the Sommelier were too clean, too bright for the story she told. They should have been in a seedy c.o.c.ktail lounge.

No. This was better. Clean and s.h.i.+ny suited her. Here it was only the third time they'd been together and already he was feeling protective.

And so attracted. He hadn't felt this way since college, when he and Karen had started dating and getting serious. A good, warm feeling.

Thoughts of Gin were beginning to intrude on his work. He'd find himself thinking about her at the most inconvenient times, wondering what she was doing, wondering if she was thinking about him.

And now he was sharing her anger, her anguish. She had expected better of a U. S. senator's office. She deserved better.

Sometimes he hated this G.o.dd.a.m.n town.

"That's the way it is here, " he told her after she finished. "Not just with you. With everything. It's a mindset."

"So I shouldn't take it personally? ' Her eyes flashed. "Is that what you're saying?

" . "Yes and no, " he said slowly. Had to choose his words carefully here. He didn't want to wind up a lightning rod for that anger. "You should be offended, angry, even feel humiliated, but realize too that Blair is simply doing what comes naturally on the Hill. He's just playing by the rules as he's learned them." '"Hill rat, " she said, shaking her head. "Boy, if ever a term fit someone. But aren't there laws? " "Yeah, probably written by the Hill rats themselves, and pa.s.sed by their bosses. But for other people, for the const.i.tuents.

They don't apply up here on the Hill. You've entered an ethical Twilight Zone."

"You seem so casual about it." Was he? Was she right? Had he been investigating political corruption long enough to take it for granted?

Maybe. He didn't like that answer.

But he wasn't talking about blatant graft here. No, it was more of an atmosphere, an ambience. A different set of values.

"I can't be casual about you being hurt." She gave him a little smile.He loved the way her lips curled up at the corners. Her eyes said thank you.

He reached across and gripped her hand. She didn't pull away.

"Look, Gin, " he said. "If you want to be a part of the doings on the Hill, you're going to have to play by their rules. The people up here aren't going to change for you."

"I never expected them to, but" "Think of yourself as having entered the world's largest bazaar, where everything is for sale but no prices are marked. The currency is influence, and the best hagglers walk away with the fullest shopping carts."

"That's pretty d.a.m.n grim, Gerry."

"Gin, " he said, leaning forward, "I'm sure you see influence peddling in hospital politics, but that's penny-ante stuff. This is the major leagues. This Blair guy, he's got influence with his senator to get you something you want, you, in turn, have got something he wants.

Sounds as if he's experienced at the game, very circ.u.mspect in his hallway negotiation, and that's just what it was, a negotiation. And don't think that it occurred in an empty hallway by accident. No quid pro quo proposition, just a generous offer to help you deal with a possible hitch in your appointment. And no witnesses. Very smooth."

"You sound as if you almost admire him."

"I will admire my fist in his face if I ever meet up with him, " he said.

Gerry was rewarded with another smile, this one big enough to reveal the glistening white of Gin's teeth.

"Don't get yourself in trouble on my account."

"It's a good account.

" "Does that mean I can make a professional request? " "

Professional?

" "Yes. Police-type stuff. I'm trying to find out about Duncan Lathram's daughter." Gerry felt his insides tighten as they always did at mention of Lathram's name, but he remained impa.s.sive. Obviously she was tired of talking about Joe Blair.

"What about her? She in trouble? " "No. She died in an accident five years ago.""What kind of accident? " "A fall at home."

"You're suspicious about something? " "Oh, no. Not at all. I just can't find out anything about her. n.o.body's talking."

"It's just idle curiosity, then? " He could tell from her manner it was anything but.

She was holding something back.

"No. I don't know what it is, really. I was just wondering if you could get hold of a copy of the death certificate." Now there was an odd request. But not a difficult one if you knew who to call. And perfectly legal. Death certificates were public records.

"No biggee. Just have to know where she lived at the TIME The rest is easy."

"Alexandria, I believe. Northern Virginia for sure."

"Okay. Have it for you in a day or two." And he would. But first he'd give it a thorough going over himself. His curiosity was piqued.

"Unless there's a rush." He watched her closely as she answered.

"No. No rush. ' That settled, he could almost see her drift away as she lapsed into silence. She sighed.

He said, "What are you thinking? " Was it about Lisa Lathram, or about this Blair character, or something else?

"Maybe you and Duncan are right. Maybe I'm not cut out for this town.

" So . . . it was back to Blair. An ache grew within him as he sensed the disappointment in her voice, watched discouragement etch lines around her frown. He wasn't sure what, but he was going to do something.

"Don't give up hope, " he said. "Things have a way of working out. '

'"Maybe sometimes, " she said. "Not this TIME" He drained the white zinfandel.

"You never know, Gin. You never know." Gerry stood in the wide, fresh-smelling, brightly lit hallway outside the apartment door in the Watergate-at-Landmark, a high-rise condo complex in northern Virginia, and waited for his ring to be answered.

He knew Blair was homea hang-up phone call had confirmed that. Maybehe was eating. Gerry hoped he was alone. If he wasn't, Gerry would have to improvise. But one way or another, he was going to make this creep see the light.

As soon as he'd left Gin at her car he'd hustled up Pennsylvania to the Bureau. He ran a check on Blair, but no criminal record. Too bad.

That would have made things easier.

So he'd have to bluff.

Gerry shrugged some of the tension out of his tight shoulder muscles.

This sort of unofficial visit could land him in a serious load of official trouble if Blair called his blu*.

But Gerry knew how these highly placed Hill rats operated. They couldn't vote, but lots of times they had control of the line by line wording of a bill, and that could be more important than a Yea or Nay.

The lobbyists courted them with trips, gifts, and honoraria for speaking engagements, just like their bosses. Gerry remembered one case, still mentioned by Hill rats in awed tones, of two staffers, Michaels and Bill Patterson, who netted a total of twenty eight thousand dollars from a host of lobbyists in forty-eight hours.

Blair no doubt had dreams of topping that record.

Gerry meant to disturb those dreams.

Because if Blair planned to cash in all the influence chips that would accrue from the Guidelines bill, the last thing he wanted was a ticked-off FBI agent watching his every move.

But Gerry didn't have much TIME Mrs. Snedecker had said she'd keep Martha a couple of extra hours today. Gerry would have to get to it with Blair right away.

The condo door opened and a pale face with a see-through mustache cautiously peered at him through the opening. This was a gated building.

Drop-in company was not the norm.

"Yes? " Gerry held up the same badge that had got him past the doorman.

"FBI, Mr. Blair." Blair opened the door a little wider for a better look. He squinted at the badge.

"What is it? What do you want? " Gerry flipped the leather badge folder closed and stepped closer, quietly wedging his foot against the bottom edge of the door. He slipped the badge into his pocket.

'"Don't worry. It's not official business." . "Then what? " Gerry put a hand against Blair's chest and gently pushed him back into his apartment. There were times when subtlety was called for and times when it wasn't.

"You and me, Blair. We're gonna have us a little talk." GINA GINA YAWNED AS SHE HEADED FOR THE DOCTORS lounge. A busy night at Lynnbrook. Sometimes she could catch a catnap during the s.h.i.+ft. Not this TIME Not that she would have got much more sleep if she'd stayed home. What a state she was in. Worse than waiting to hear about her residency match. Almost as bad as the months waiting to hear if she'd been accepted into medical school.

She ran into Dr. Conway again.

"I see Mrs. Thompson finally went home. That must be a relief.

"I guess so. Everybody's making nice-nice now that they think I caved in. Actually, she made a dramatic turnaround. Almost miraculous. One day she's dragging around, next day she's chipper and demanding to go home." A warning bell sounded in the back of Gin's brain.

"When was that? " "Wednesday."

"I wonder, ' Gin said uneasily. "I had a talk with her just the night before and she said she'd heard you were in trouble I because of her. I remember her saying something like, I won't be a burden to anyone. I'll be out of here sooner than you think." Conway stared at her. "Christ. That'd be just like her." He picked up the phone and called medical records. He got Mrs. Thompson's phone number and dialed. And listened. He redialed and listened again. Then he hung up.

"No answer. I'm going over there."

"She could be out, " Gin said.

"At seven A. M. ? A seventy-eight-year-old lady? " "I'll go with you.

' "You're on duty. I'll let you know how it goes." Gin spent the next hour wondering what Conway would find. When she wasn't thinking aboutthat, it was back to the committee. At one point she found herself dialing her apartment, readying to activate the remote playback on her answering machine.

What am I doing? she thought, and hung up.

It was too early. No one from a senator's office would be calling before ten. Before noon, more likely.

She was about to leave when she was paged by the emergency department.

Dr. Conway was asking for her a.s.sistance.

Gin found him standing by the x-ray box, studying a chest film. She took one look at the opacified right lung field and said, "Not Harriet, I hope." Conway nodded. "Found her on her back steps, barely conscious, a bunch of bread crusts in her hand. Looked like she'd gone out to feed the birds last night and collapsed."

"She was out all night? " "Sure as h.e.l.l looks that way. She's shocky, hypothermic, and hypoxemic, plus"he tapped the chest film"three fractured ribs and I'll bet that's a hemothorax. I called in Fielding.

He's going to intubate her and put her on a respirator, then it's up to ICU ." He snapped the film off the view box.