The Raft

  Chapter 16

  Senator Hadian stormed into the room as if he were a solider charging up Omaha Beach in Normandy. His jacket was off, his tie undone, with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He was drying his hands off on a porcelain white towel, which he tossed down on the desk as he took a seat behind it.

  He had a look about him as if he'd just finished working on machinery, perhaps changing the oil in his car. Of course, he'd been doing no such thing, but the air around him seemed to bristle with masculine confidence. His mane of gray hair and the ruddy tone of his face told the room he had nothing but contempt for what was about to transpire.

  He sat down heavily in his large, padded leather chair behind the grand antique desk, and sighed. He said nothing, staring down the distance between himself and the small, ladylike couch containing Rachael and Maggie at the far corner of the room.

  It was a masterful display of power, Rachael understood. She almost applauded. If Maggie and Rachael had been there to close a business deal, the deal would have certainly gone most favorably for the Senator.

  Rachael looked at Maggie. She looked small and pale against the green velvet of the couch. This had been a mistake, Rachael panicked. Maggie wasn't ready for this. Thugs like Chemical Ali G and G-Men like Galahad were one thing, but the Senator was in a totally different league.

  Rachael began to scramble for some excuse, some reason they were there that would offend the Senator as little as possible. The sooner they could get out of that office the better. Get Maggie back to her boat – no, get Maggie back to Rachael's house, off of the Raft and safe. They were onshore now, there was no reason that Maggie ever needed to go back to the Soft Cell.

  Think of some excuse to get out of here and run, Rachael thought, as far away from Meerkat, the Raft, Senator Hadian, and the whole mess as they could. Rachael looked down at her purse on the floor at her feet. Maybe her phone was silently ringing at that moment, who could tell? Perhaps it was Peter with some critical piece of information...

  “Senator, thank you for meeting with us on such short notice,” Maggie began. Rachael looked up, forgetting his silly ruse. Maggie's voice was strong and forthright. Despite the look of queasiness on her face, there was no hint of weakness in her voice. Perhaps Maggie could handle this, Rachael dared to entertain.

  “This is a goddamn waste of my time, and you know it,” the Senator growled. He rocked back in his chair, sizing up his competition. He hadn't made up his mind about Maggie, it appeared, but his face was hard to read.

  “Still, I'm grateful that you took the time out of your busy schedule -”

  “How about you cut the bullshit and you tell me who you are and what you want? And what this has to do with that crazy son of a bitch in my house with a gun? I couldn't get a straight answer out of these pencil-dicks,” the Senator nodded at Galahad in his high-backed chair, “so maybe you'd do me the decency of being up front and honest.

  “Alright, Senator, I'd be more than happy to.” Maggie shifted on the velvet of the couch. Her color was still poor and she was sweating. “I'm a Magistrate aboard the Raft – sort of like a private investigator. We had a murder out there on the water, and all the evidence so far is telling us that you knew the victim.”

  Rachael coughed. Galahad shot up like a jack-in-the-box in his chair. There was a moment of terror as the Senator sat motionless in his seat. Rachael could feel the fight-or-flight reflex rising inside her. If she sprinted for the door, would she make it before the Senator made it completely around the desk?

  “Ha!” The Senator let out a guffaw and slapped his knee. “Ha! Now that's funny.”

  Rachael relaxed. Galahad lowered himself back into his chair.

  “Then I take it the name Joanna Church, or Meerkat, means nothing to you?” Maggie continued.

  “Not a goddamn thing,” the Senator shook his head, smirking.

  “Well, the crazy son of a bitch with the gun who broke in here and scared your maid half to death thought you did. Thought you and she were having an affair. Making a baby, in fact. He was even under the impression that he was blackmailing you.”

  Suddenly, the Senator's visage soured. He leaned forward, putting his hands on his desk. “What was that?”

  “Should I speak up, Senator?” Maggie asked.

  The Senator Hadian rose an accusatory finger. “And you come in here, accusing me -”

  “I'm accusing nobody of anything, Senator,” Maggie raised her voice to match the Senators. “You simply asked why a man came to your house today to kill you, and I told you. Those are the facts, Senator. I'm not here to deal in conjecture.”

  Maggie's words seemed to belay the Senator's fury. His hands dropped back to the desk. For a moment he hesitated, then he slumped back in his chair, focusing his attention on the study of his adversary and her potential weaknesses.

  “You're from that Raft, huh? And so was this fella with the gun?”

  “That's right.”

  “You've both gone and screwed the pooch, coming back on dryland. That's going to cost you come tax time.”

  “Horus – the SOB with the pistol – fled to shore when his girlfriend was murdered. I'm something like his lawyer. The pencil-dicks,” Maggie mimicked the Senator and nodded at Galahad in his corner, “concerned about the defendant's sixth amendment rights, have invited me onshore. I have a twenty-four-hour furlough.” Maggie tried to smile. She didn't pull it off.

  “Oh, they have, have they?” The Senator seemed curious. “How nice for you.”

  “And I thought it important to speak to you in person about this, before ugly rumors begin.”

  The Senator took a pen up off the desk and began to fidget with it. He didn't take his eyes off Maggie. “Is that your game?” he asked, his voice betraying a slight hint of concern.

  “I'm playing no game, Senator,” Maggie replied in all honesty.

  “Convenient though, isn't it? That you and your friend with the gun should show up today? Today of all days...”

  “I'm sorry?”

  “What was the plan? That the nut job with the gun should shoot me? Or was that always a faint? And you're here to put the real bullet in me?”

  “What?” Maggie recoiled in surprise. The Senator was becoming increasingly agitated. Galahad shuttled his gaze between the Senator and Maggie, unsure of exactly what he'd missed. But he reached under his jacket all the same for the butt of his pistol.

  “Senator, I don't know -” Rachael tried to interrupt. But the Senator sprang to his feet and angrily tossed the pen in his hand down on the desk.

  “Blackmail, is it?” he hollered. “Do you have a shred of proof? Damn it! Do you think you can blackmail a United States Senator and get away with it? Special Agent,” Hadian turned to Galahad.

  “Senator!” Maggie sprang from her seat. She strode up to the desk, her bare feet standing solid on the hardwood floor of the Senator's office. “Sit down!” she bellowed. And like a mother commanding her child, thrust a finger at the Senator's padded, leather chair.

  The Senator was dumbstruck. He paused, mouth half open, and fixed Maggie with a determined stare.

  “I am not here to blackmail you, sir,” Maggie spoke in a clear, slow voice. “If you've misconstrued my comments to imply differently, then I apologize. But let me be very clear on this fact, Senator: I am here to investigate the murder of a young girl, nothing more. If we can return the conversation back to that, Senator, I think I can quickly finish up my business here and leave you in peace.”

  The Senator closed his mouth. He pulled himself up to his full height, perhaps a whole foot taller than Maggie, and slowly lowered himself back into his chair. At this cue, Maggie turned and returned to her seat on the couch next to an awestruck Rachael.

  “It's just suspicious, that's all,” Senator Hadian continued in a calmer tone.

  “What is, Senator?” Rachael asked, looking at Maggie out of the corner of her eye.

  “All this trouble... representatives with
day passes off the Raft, right before the big vote...”

  “Vote?”

  “On the new tax code. It's already passed the House Ways and Means and now it's in front of the Finance Committee. It's seven thousand pages long, you understand, but perhaps its most interesting modification is the removal of the foreign resident exemption – that one sentence in the tax code that you Rafters find so convenient.”

  Rachael and Maggie looked at each other in surprise.

  “You're editing the tax code? After all these years?” Maggie asked.

  “Yep, it'll be the end of the whole lot of you. Not my idea, of course. I think the Raft is one of the best ideas in American history, but the Democrats have had it up to here with all of you.” The Senator indicated his temple.

  “You think the Raft is a good idea?” Rachael asked in disbelief. “You've said the opposite in public.”

  “Well, of course,” the Senator laughed. “Can't be seen to support banishment for the lowlife scum of society. Wouldn't project a warm, family image. The American People want their leaders to be tough on crime, not medieval. Personally, however, I think the Raft is best prison the United States has ever built. Costs nothing to run, nothing to feed the inmates, you don't even have to build a wall and the criminals climb into their cells willingly. Can you believe that? They actually choose to be cut off from society. Forever. It's perfect! You couldn't design a better jail.”

  “The Raft isn't a prison,” Maggie countered. “Rafters are free.”

  “Sure, sure. If that's what you want to believe. Free to live with all the rapists and murderers. You get all the worst of them, skipping out on bail and fleeing from warrants. They think that out on the Raft they're beyond the reach of the law, but the truth is they've only run right into the law's grasp. After all, there's no way any American court could, in good conscience, hand down a more cruel and unusual punishment than the Raft. Prison, an inmate has a hope of someday seeing release, but the Raft... the sentence is for life. More power to them if the Rafters want to believe they're living in freedom. Keeps them quiet, keeps them docile. Meek. But don't fool yourself, out there on the Raft they've got no more freedom than a canary in a cage.”

  “No,” Maggie shook her head. “No,” she repeated in a murmur. Suddenly, sitting on the green couch, she appeared small and pale and sickly. It was like the air had let out of her. Rachael tried to put a comforting hand on Maggie's shoulder, but Maggie recoiled as if in pain.

  “But my colleagues to the left are unable to see the social genius of self-imposed exile. It's always been an irritant to them, a finger in the eye of their great progressive society. 'What's the point of prison if it's not a punishment handed down from on high?' they ask. You can't just have the scum of society punishing itself. And perhaps they're right... Tomorrow the revised tax code will clear committee and then it's on to a floor vote. After that, the Raft will be, perhaps, one Presidential signature away from oblivion. So you can see how the timing of all this is suspicious, my dears. An assassination attempt, however incompetent, and two lovely blackmailers only hours later. Perhaps it's all a coincidence, but you can understand my wariness.”

  “I do, Senator, I do,” Maggie replied meekly.

  “Then, if there's nothing else, I have a plane to catch.” The Senator climbed wearily out of his chair.

  “But, Meerkat -” Rachael began. Maggie stopped her, quickly reaching out and grabbing Rachael's hand.

  “We've taken far more than five minutes of your time,” Maggie said as she pulled herself groggily to her feet. “Thank you, Senator.”

  “But -” Rachael said again. Maggie just turned for the door, dragging Rachael along with her. Even Special Agent Galahad appeared surprised that the interview was actually over. He hopped to his feet and quickly opened the study door for Maggie.

  Back in the hallway, Agent Galahad and Rachael fumbled with their footwear. Maggie was already out under the porte-cochère, where Detective Sargent Yi and Agents Rolph and Chesterton were waiting.

  “How did it go?” Yi asked as Maggie came down the stairs.

  “Fine,” Maggie allowed bluntly.

  “Fine, but -” Yi started. Maggie strolled past him, back onto the gravel drive. Out of the house, Galahad and Rachael stumbled, still trying to pull their shoes on. “Who? What?” Yi asked, bewildered.

  Rachael shrugged. With her boots back on her feet, she cantered off down the drive after Maggie.

  “What happened?” Yi asked Galahad after Maggie and Rachael were out of earshot.

  “Nothing,” Galahad shook his head. “Nothing. It was a waste of time. Let's get downtown. Let's get a confession out of the d-bag in holding and we can all have an early night.”

  Galahad and the other agents started towards their cars. Yi shook his head. He watched as Maggie strode off down the driveway with Rachael skipping to keep pace. She was already almost to the front gate.

  Apparently, the sharp rocks of the gravel were no longer bothering her feet.