Chiang nodded. The silent Oriental was thinking about Burns, the Gwai-lo who killed without honor. The barest hint of a smile touched the corners of his mouth.
DeLaroza settled back. He felt relieved. In his mind, the problem was resolved. Now he faced a bigger one. In fifteen minutes he would pick up Hotchins and tell him that Domino was dead. How he would do that already consumed his thoughts.
22
The JetStar sighed to a comfortable landing and taxied to the hangar where its door swung quietly open and the hydraulic stairway unfolded to the ground. DeLaroza sat in the back of the Rolls, watching as Hotchins came down the stairway and was led to the car by Chiang. He looked good, although he was limping slightly, usually a sign that he was tired or his artificial foot was acting up. But he smiled as he got into the car.
“Well, it is good you are back,” DeLaroza said as the Rolls floated onto the highway. “There is much to be done.”
“I’ve accomplished quite a bit already,” Hotchins said enthusiastically.
“Ah, the trip was successful, then?”
“More than you think.”
“Excellent. And the senator, will he endorse you Monday night?”
Hotchins nodded slowly. “He’s his crusty old self, of course. Just as overbearing and patronizing as ever. I spent three hours with him this morning wandering around that damn farm until I thought my foot would fall off, but he’s in. The old boy wants a cabinet post.”
“Not a great surprise to either of us. What does he want?”
“Agriculture.”
DeLaroza considered the point and nodded. “Not an unwise choice, do you think? He is quite popular with the farmers.”
“Yeah. And the insurance companies. The food processors. The power companies and gasoline companies. God, he’s sold out to every seedy lobbyist in Washington.”
“Still, he is respected.”
“He’s more important to us in the Senate. We need that seniority. But I’ll work that out. The important thing is that he’ll be there Monday and he’ll endorse me.”
“Splendid. It is going well, exceptionally well.”
“There are still a couple of other congressmen who are playing hard to get. I think we should give them a chance to get on board now or screw them.”
“You are feeling heady. I can tell.”
“I’m feeling like a winner.”
“Well, the trip was a success. Excellent.” DeLaroza took out a Havana cigar, but he did not unwrap it. He twirled it in his fingers. He had been waiting sixteen years for this moment, the moment of reckoning. Now at last was the time to test power with power. He enjoyed the moments of anticipation. Hotchins sensed his mood.
“Is something bothering you?” he asked.
“No, not really. Why do you ask?”
“Victor, I’ve known you intimately for sixteen years. I know when something is bothering you.”
DeLaroza smiled. “And here I thought I was so inscrutable.”
“You may be to others. Your Chinese friends are certainly inscrutable. But I know you. What is it? Are we having a problem with Lowenthal?”
A problem with Lowenthal, DeLaroza thought. If we were, who is more capable of handling it than I? He was somewhat nervous anyway, although he had carefully planned the conversation. But now Hotchins was beginning to annoy him. He was being … he was being smug. DeLaroza smiled and said quietly, “Not at all. I spent the evening with him and we had coffee this morning. He was nervous about starting the campaign so soon, but I believe he is convinced it is for the best.”
“Good,” Hotchins patted DeLaroza’s leg. “I’m glad you’re finally getting directly involved.”
Directly involved. There it was again. The man is beginning to treat me as though he is the president.
“I was under the impression I was always directly involved,” DeLaroza said, trying to hide his growing anger.
“Oh, of course, of course,” Hotchins said. “I just mean you’re more open now. You were always so damn cautious about publicity and pictures. It was almost a phobia.”
“Phobia?”
“Well, you know what I mean. Anyway, of course you’re involved. You’ve been a close confidant for years.”
Confidant. DeLaroza began to laugh out loud. The audacity of this man.
“What’s so funny?” Hotchins said.
“You are. My God, your smugness goes beyond conceit.”
“Smugness. What do you mean, smugness?”
“You are smug, Donald. You think you have done this, gone this far, all by yourself? The one-man show, eh? Why do you think Lowenthal is here? Because I talked to him. Several times. Because I paid his expenses down here. Because I guaranteed that the financing is available. You think he is an amateur? And now that he is here, it is business, not charisma. Politics is business.”
“I don’t believe you. The first thing we discussed was the cost of the campaign.”
“Of course. It is the key to victory. He wants reassurance. Mr. Senator. He cannot afford to ride another loser. And then, after you discussed the business, to whom did you come running? To me. Your confidant, Donald? I have pulled your strings for years.”
“Nobody pulls my strings,” Hotchins said. His eyes burned with fury.
“Oh? And who told you when you were ready for the senate race? You were not sure. I made the decision. And I paid for the campaign. And who decided this would be the right year for the big one. Was it you, Donald? No. I said, this is the right year, this is the year we do it.”
“Why don’t you just run the race, too?”
“I wish I could. I am a naturalized citizen. It could never be.”
“Nobody owns me, Victor. And nobody’s going to own me when I get into the White House.”
“Without me there will be no White House.”
“What is this?” Hotchins said. “Why this sudden attack? What do you want?”
“Recognition. For years I have been the man in the wings, giving away the credit for everything I have achieved. You take the credit here and you take the credit there. I want recognition,” he said, and then, louder: “I want recognition.”
Hotchins sneered at him. “I should have known. Sixteen years and you’ve never asked for anything. And now, the worm turns.”
“Now the worm can turn,” DeLaroza said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
DeLaroza smiled. “It is quite a long story. I do not think now is the time to bore you with it. Besides, there is something else I must tell you. And believe me, it is not a happy task.”
“What? What’s happened?”
“It concerns Domino.”
Hotchins relaxed. He waved his hand toward DeLaroza as if dismissing the discussion before it started. “You can forget Domino. Domino is past history. That problem’s been solved.”
“I am not sure you understand what I am trying to tell you.”
“What the hell are you driving at?”
“Donald, Domino is dead.”
Hotchins stared at him intently. He shook his head very slightly.
“She’s what?”
“A police friend of mine told me as I was leaving the office. I don’t have the detail—”
Hotchins cut him off. He was wild-eyed. “What do you mean she’s dead? How did it happen?”
“She was shot.”
“Shot?”
“Yes. It happened in her apartment last night….”
He stopped. Gooseflesh rose along his arm. Hotchin’s reaction chilled him for a moment. He was laughing. Laughing.
“I knew there was a mistake,” he said. “You better get a more reliable police friend.”
“Believe me,” DeLaroza said. “What I am telling you is true.”
Hotchins leaned across the seat toward DeLaroza. “It’s bullshit, Vic.”
“My source is unimpeachable,” DeLaroza said sternly.
“No, my friend,” Hotchins said, “my source is unimpeachable.
My source is me. Domino was with me last night. All night.”
Now it was DeLaroza who looked stunned. The lines in his forehead deepened. He seemed almost angry.
“Look, she flew down to Savannah yesterday and we spent the night on the boat. It was all very safe. And I told her we had to stop seeing each other. I think she was as relieved about it as I was. So relax. It was a mistake, that’s all.”
A mistake, DeLaroza thought. That maniac Burns had made a mistake. Or had he lied?
“Was someone else staying in her apartment?” DeLaroza asked.
“I have no idea. Why?”
“Because someone was shot in her apartment last night. A terrible mistake had been made.”
“Mistake? What kind of mistake?”
“It was Domino who was supposed to die.”
“Supposed to …” Hotchins stopped. A frightening thought swept past his mind, but he immediately dismissed it. “What do you mean, ‘supposed to’?”
DeLaroza’s mind was churning. He had to move fast, get to Domino before the police. But first it was time to deal with Hotchins. Now was the time of reckoning. It could wait no longer.
“Did you hear me?” Hotchins said. “What did you mean by that?”
“Donald, maybe it is time we had that talk I referred to a few minutes ago. The one I said would bore you. You may find some of the details a bit unsettling, so prepare yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I am talking about Domino. I am talking about the minute planning that went into your career. I am talking about where the money comes from to finance this gamble. And I am talking about why, suddenly, I have decided to go public, as they say. Do you want to hear the story, Donald?”
“Of course,” Hotchins said, but there was a nervousness in his tone.
“Just listen to me,” DeLaroza said. “Please do not interrupt until I am finished.”
Hotchins was somewhat mystified by the coldness in DeLaroza’s tone. He shifted in his seat so that he was facing him. “All right, I’m listening.”
“When I introduced you to Domino, you were aware that I had known her for several months. When I first met her, she was a charming woman and of course her natural attributes were undeniable. She was like a bud and I nurtured the bud into a blossom of paradise. She was the perfect answer to my problem and my problem was you. You were teetering on the edge of disaster, my friend, consumed by loneliness. Depression hovered over you like a cloud. Domino was the perfect answer. It took several months, of course, to develop her latent treasures, but it was a task that was not without its rewards.”
“Damn it, Victor—”
“Listen to me,” DeLaroza snapped, his eyes afire. “When you met her she was the ultimate seductress because of me. I am the one who saw the incredible potential. And you know why? Because she understands that in order to satisfy others she must first satisfy herself. And she loves power as much as you or I. There was no question from the beginning. The infatuation would be total. She provided you with fire when you needed it most. And of course you took it, took it all. It was a dangerous game because it had to end. Sooner or later she would become a liability. And the liabilities must be destroyed. The danger during the campaign would have been unbearable and—after you become president—impossible. So you see, dear Donald, her death was inevitable.”
Hotchins withdrew to his corner of the seat, his expression reflecting the terrifying truth in DeLaroza’s words. He could hardly speak and when he did his words came in a hoarse whisper.
“Stop talking about her in the past tense.”
“Why not?” DeLaroza said, unwrapping his cigar. “She is past tense to me. I ordered her death.”
Hotchins was hollow-eyed. “You … arranged her murder?”
“Of course. It was a political necessity. It was a political necessity from the day you met her.”
“You planned it all along? You never considered an alternative?”
“I considered all alternatives. Among them the danger of blackmail, or perhaps ghost-written memoirs filled with lurid details. No, there never was an alternative.”
“There has to be an alternative to murder.”
“Not always.”
Hotchins shuddered and looked as if he were going to be sick. He beat on the front seat and yelled at Chiang. “Stop the car I need some air.”
“Get hold of yourself,” DeLaroza snapped. “And if you are considering a lecture on morality, please spare me. We are survivalists, you and I. We survive at all costs. It is one of the things that attracted me to you.”
“I won’t be made part of this,” Hotchins said. “I would never have sanctioned—”
DeLaroza waved his hand at Hotchins. “Please. It is not just murder we are talking about. Where do you think the fortunes came from to finance your career—all the millions of dollars, all the small contributions, so carefully planned and perfectly legitimate? Everything above scrutiny. You never asked, did you? And we know why. Because you do not want to know the answer, right? Now you see the tip of an iceberg and suddenly you want to see the whole thing. Well, I say, forget it. Think about your alternatives.”
Hotchins could think of nothing but the horror. Like an insane newsreel, names and faces swept past his eyes. Sacks, the prison camp, the endless political campaigns, and the hollow personal life. And Domino and the energy she had brought to him. Now all the years of planning and dreaming began to crumble in his mind. Was he going to lose it all?
“The alternatives, Donald. It is really quite simple. You will either be the most powerful political figure in the world, or the most despised. Nobody likes a martyr. They are losers. If you should suddenly feel overly honest and decide to reveal all, remember that. In six months no one will care whether you revealed the truth or not. Those who believed in you will feel betrayed. Those who are against you will be delighted. And you? You will be destroyed. What is it going to be, eh?”
Hotchins leaned back and slumped into the seat. He did not answer.
“Let me tell you a quick little story. In 1945, at the height of the war in Italy, an American soldier disguised as an Italian peasant led eight mules loaded with gold bullion through the Brenner Pass in the Alps into Switzerland. The gold was stolen from the army. I spent five years in Switzerland, learning to speak like a Brazilian, manufacturing the identity of Victor DeLaroza. The millions we have spent financing your career? All of it started with stolen government money. It is not just Domino, my friend. It is your entire career. And every dollar of it is recorded, Donald.”
The bigger the prize, the higher the price, Hotchins thought to himself. And now it is time to pay. The moment of reckoning.
“They’ll find out,” Hotchins said quietly. “Somebody always finds out.”
“No. I have been at this a very long time. I am an expert at deceit.”
DeLaroza laughed, devils dancing in his turquoise pupils. The web had been spun with such care, such patience, spreading a strand at a time across so many years that no one could comprehend the maze. It was a work of terrifying ingenuity.
“Everything is well covered, believe me,” he said. “The last person who might have recognized me has been eliminated. There is only one danger to the entire plan right now. Domino.”
Hotchins said nothing.
“She will realize we tried to kill her. When is she due back?”
Hotchins still said nothing.
“Get hold of yourself, Donald,” DeLaroza said with annoyance in his tone. “When is she due back?”
Hotchins looked down slowly at his watch.
“Now. She is on her way back to the apartment right now.”
“Then we have no time to lose. It must be done right this time.”
“No!”
“You prefer to be destroyed then?”
“She won’t say anything.”
“Don’t you understand? Somebody was killed in her apartment last night. They will put her under lights. Sh
e will break down. They will find out everything. Is that what you want?”
“I … don’t know.”
“I have never known you to be self-destructive before.”
“I’ve never been involved in murder before.”
“Ah. Yes, that is true. So, you are the leader. The one-man show who does it all. Tell me, shall I forget about Domino, then?”
Silence.
“I am awaiting your answer, Mr. Senator. Now it is your decision.”
“I … can’t….”
“Of course you can. Think about it. The alternatives, Donald, the alternatives. What shall I do?”
Hotchins’s face was drawn. The web DeLaroza had spun was indeed awesome. Had he been a mere dauphin in DeLaroza’s grand scheme? The fear of deceit had lain deep in Hotchins’s subconscious for years. Now the knowledge of it was like a smoldering fire that could either be fanned to life by his conscience or smothered by his avarice.
“The pluses and the minuses,” he muttered aloud.
“Ah, yes, the pluses and the minuses.”
In the end Hotchins knew he had no choice. When he stripped away the emotional considerations, as he always had, as he always would, it came down to the simple formula. The pluses and the minuses.
“Well?” DeLaroza said.
“Do … what you think … is best.”
“No. You are the one who makes the decisions. Nobody pulls your strings, is that not correct? So, tell me. Say it, Donald.”
He shook his head.
“Then we shall let nature take its course?”
“No!”
“No? Then tell me, what shall I do?”
Hotchins lowered his head like a child.
“Just take care of it.”
“Say it,” DeLaroza demanded.
But Hotchins just shook his head again. He tried to say it but the words crumbled in his mouth like ashes. The moment of reckoning had passed.
23
The lingering stench of death, the bitter smell of cordite which seemed to hang obstinately in the air, the rancid, salty odor of dried blood, the oppressiveness of the closed room, was overwhelming. Sharky leaned against the door, staring at the pockmarks in the wall, the brown stains streaking down to the floor. Faltering images played at the back of his mind, images he wanted to forget but needed to remember.