The First Lady's Second Man, page 16
part #3 of Linda Darby Mystery Series
Linda had sent a text. She would text again when they were in Caruthers. She ended with, “You’re a good man, Charlie Brown. I’d be lost without you. Love, Lucy.” He was pleased she had her wits about her sufficiently to be lighthearted.
In the small picture, Steffi was no longer being surveilled by Charlie Darrow and Ralph Martin. In the big picture, not much had changed. Bickersley still saw Billy Knight as a prospective threat to the president’s reelection. He still wanted Linda to kill Billy Knight to remove that threat. Ryan’s experience and training told him that Bickersley planned for someone to kill Linda soon after she eliminated Billy Knight.
Ryan had to put Linda out of his mind and focus fully on Brad Sander. The address he was looking for came into direct view. The next building on his left. Coincidentally, Sander was staying not far from Billy Knight’s condo. Off to his right, on the other side of the street, the Willamette River widened, its current slowing into a vast ribbon of moving, almost still water. It was reminiscent of the Mississippi river in the song, Old Man River, he don’t say nothin’, . . . he just keeps rollin’ along. A dog in a nearby yard ran, stopped, eyed Ryan, and then dashed around a corner. The bell in the church tower brazenly announced the hour of nine, unapologetically breaking the moist silence.
Ryan stepped off the quiet street sidewalk, crossed a narrow strip of lawn silvered by the moon, and stepped onto the building’s walkway. The post box for the rental unit stated a name other than Brad Sander. Ryan’s advance man had assured him the post label was old and the occupant of that unit was definitely Sander. Ryan’s man got into the studio apartment and planted the bug on Brad’s phone and a listening device in the living room.
#
Linda got off the plane in Wichita, Kansas. Steffi excitedly continued to ask questions about who they were meeting. Linda patiently answered them.
Vera was waiting in the private plane baggage area. It would take approximately an hour by car to drive from Wichita to Caruthers. Her hometown had a small airport, but Ryan had suggested they land in Wichita. There was no record anywhere of Linda and Steffi being passengers, but Linda knew Ryan had a reason, and she trusted his judgment. With research, Brad Sander would learn, might already know, that Caruthers was her hometown. In any event, she was counting on Ryan to do things that would delay Brad, and whoever else, from learning that Linda had taken Steffi out of Hobart School. Still, when they did find out, they would consider her hometown as one of the places she might be.
Linda wanted to be with Ryan. To help. But she needed to be with Steffi. Linda’s life had been in Ryan’s hands before and she was still alive. She would trust him again. She had no better alternative and couldn’t imagine one.
“Honey, this is Vera Cunningham. The closest thing I have to a sister. Vera this is my daughter, Stephanie … Steffi.”
Vera stepped forward, leaned down, not far, since Steffi was a bit tall for ten, and hugged her best friend’s daughter. “I don’t have any children, so please think of me as your Aunt Vera. I love your mother, so I love you too. You look just like your mother did when she was ten. You’re going to be a very pretty lady just like her.”
“Thank you, … Aunt Vera.”
“I’ve got her bag,” Linda said as she wheeled it toward them. “Let’s get on the road. Honey, I’ll sit up front so you can have the backseat in case you want to lie down and go to sleep. Aunt Vera told me she put a pillow back there and a blanket.”
While Vera drove, Steffi had eyes for everything. As the city of Wichita dwarfed in the distance, Steffi touched her mother’s arm. “Where is it we’re going? Caruthers?”
“Yes. I was born in Caruthers, Kansas, and graduated from high school there. Vera and I were very best friends all those years. The things you’re going through now, making friends, noticing boys, all that stuff, Vera and I went through together.”
“Where will we stay?”
Vera kept ahold of the steering wheel and glanced back over her shoulder. “In my home, sweetheart. It’s right in the middle of downtown, near the restaurants, stores, and the movie house. It’s a small town, so there’s no big mall or anything, but it’s got everything we’ll need.”
“Is there a Mr. Cunningham, Aunt Vera?”
“Now, honey—”
Vera looked toward Linda. “Now, come on, Momma. That’s a fair question.” Then looked back at Steffi. “I’ve never been married and, like I said at the airport, I have no children. So, to me, you’re very special. The daughter of my very best friend in the whole world.”
“When we get to Aunt Vera’s home, another of our old friends will be there waiting to meet you. Her name is Mrs. Caruthers. She’s older. Mrs. Caruthers was Aunt Vera’s and my teacher when we were in school.”
“Oh.”
After traveling about ten miles, Linda looked back over the seat, Steffi was fast asleep on the backseat.
“Steffi is certainly a surprise. Why didn’t you tell me when you came back to settle your mom’s estate?”
“I should have. I didn’t make a conscious effort not to. I’ve kept Steffi a secret pretty much all her life. Her daddy was a no-account. I was pregnant when I left him, and I kept him from finding out. That’s when it started, I guess—not telling people.”
Vera leaned over and patted Linda on the thigh. “I love you, girl.”
“I love you, too. After we get Steffi settled I’ll need to call Dix and maybe go see him. It’ll be late, but it needs to be done.”
33
Brad Sander’s three-story building appeared to have about ten units per floor. The street had very little traffic.
Ryan looked up just as a large cloud slipped off the moon the way a wispy dress slips off a woman’s shoulders. The stars behind glistened as the cloud moved on. Another glance toward the street reaffirmed the privacy on the lightly used road was holding. Ryan stepped into the building. The door closed behind him.
The surveillance report prepared for him placed Sander in apartment number six. From the outside, Ryan counted over to what he estimated would be units five and seven; both were dark. It was earlier than most people went to bed. The occupants could be out. There were lights on inside Sander’s unit. Ryan moved down the hallway, stopping to listen at the doors to units five and seven as well as the unit across the hall, all were quiet. The walls were not masonry and the design from the outside suggested common walls without airspace between them. The neighbors could return at any time. He needed to talk with Brad, so keeping things quiet was important.
Expecting Brad would look through the peephole before opening the door, Ryan took a party hat and a beer from the plastic grocery bag. He put the hat on and twisted the cap off the bottle, holding it in his left hand. He knocked with his right, and then placed the flat of his right hand against the center of the door, slightly closer to the knob. After counting to fifteen, he used the beer bottle to motion down the hall to his left. He kept looking that direction while moving his mouth like he was talking and laughing with someone a distance down the hall.
When Ryan felt the knob twist and the latch loosen, he violently thrust his hand inward. Sander reeled back. Ryan grabbed the knob before it struck the inside wall, and drew his handgun, actually Ralph Martin’s handgun. He quietly shut the door and moved forward. He placed the end of the barrel in line with Sander’s right eye, back just far enough to be beyond the reach of his prey.
“I’m here to talk, so no noise. If that goes well, the odds are I’ll leave. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll kill you and leave.”
Ryan motioned with his gun. Sander slouched back into a chair. “Arms out and over, you know the drill.” Sander extended his arms out beyond the arms of the chair, and left them to dangle toward the floor. Ryan motioned again with his gun. Brad crossed one leg over the other at the knee.
“I know you. I don’t remember your …” then he smiled. “Hello, Captain.”
“Hello, Brad. I’m glad you remember. This way you know I’m not a man to be resisted.”
“I wish it were under other circumstances, Cap’n.”
“But it isn’t.” Ryan pointed to a device as he set it on the table. “For my benefit, I’m going to record this, voice and picture. I’m past the point of having any patience with lies. If your answers prove this to be a waste, I’ll turn off the device and shoot you for wasting my time.”
Brad snickered.
“I’ll make a statement, then we’ll talk.” After stating the date and time, and that they were in Portland, Oregon, Ryan got into the guts of what brought him to Brad’s door.
“I’m talking with Brad Sander, hereafter Brad, mercenary and freelance muscle for Carlson Bickersley, chief of staff for U.S. President Ronald Walker, and chairman of his committee to reelect. For clarification, Brad is not employed by or, as far as I know, even known to President Walker. Such things are usually insulated from the president so his bidding can be done while providing him plausible deniability. I am assuming that is the case here, however, what is known is that Brad is under the immediate supervision and direction of Carlson Bickersley.
“Under specific orders from Bickersley, Brad has pursued a woman who shall remain nameless, the mother of a child who, similarly, shall remain nameless. If Brad, during this discussion, violates this stipulation by mentioning the name of either person, I will shoot Brad dead and destroy what has been recorded to that point. Is this understood and agreed to?”
Brad nodded, then spoke, “Yes.”
“When were you first ordered to threaten the woman and surveil the child?”
“About a week ago. No, a day or two before that.”
“Who contacted you?”
“The man you mentioned, Carlson Bickersley.”
“Not someone else in his employ?”
“No. Him. I’d done a bit of work for Bickersley. He called me to the capital. We spoke in person.”
“And he directly instructed you with respect to threatening the woman and her child?”
“With the woman I went for more charming than threatening, but, yes, what you say is so.”
“Why do you give him up so easily now?”
“Bicky, as the president calls him, is a class A-1 asshole. He’s used the name and office of the president to build himself a little kingdom. Acts like he’s the Sheriff of Nottingham serving Prince John. But, in the end, Bicky is all jerk, but one with access to lots of untraceable cash, and he pays extremely well. So, I’ve tolerated him. Right now, I’m guessing, with you here, that things are going to change for Mr. Bickersley. I know you’re not a man to mess with and I’d like to get out of this alive. There’s that reason too.”
“Okay. To continue, Brad was ordered to threaten this woman with the murder of her child if she does not cooperate. The plan being to coerce this woman into seducing and then murdering a man who could create an embarrassment for President Walker and thereby, possibly, lessen his chance at reelection. Toward this end, Brad has employed others to surveil the child twenty-four-seven, to keep the pressure on the woman to commit the murder. The base threat being, kill this man or we will kill your little child. Is this correct, Brad Sander?”
“I can’t confirm that.”
“Can’t because it isn’t true or because you’re frightened by the ramifications if you do confirm it.”
“The second part.”
“Then what I said is true?”
“They’ll kill me.”
“Your more immediate concern is I will kill you right here, right now, if you don’t tell the truth. From what I’ve just said, you realize I know the truth. So, tell it, whatever it is, or die here and now.”
“What you said is the truth.”
“Which is?”
“All of it. Bickersley hired me to threaten the woman, surveil her child, and have the kid killed if the woman doesn’t kill Billy Knight.”
“Okay. So, this Billy Knight is the man Bickersley wants the woman to murder. The threat being if she doesn’t murder Knight, Bickersley will order you to murder the woman’s child. Is that what you’re saying?”
“You’re repeating yourself a bit, but, yes. However, it doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll do it. Just that he ordered me to kill the kid if it came to that.”
“Who is William, Billy, Knight and why is he a threat to Bickersley and, more specifically, why is he seen as a threat to President Ronald Walker’s reelection?”
“Billy Knight is a former Secret Service agent. For a year, up until he was forced to resign about a month back, he was in charge of the detail guarding the first lady, Carolyn Walker.”
“If Knight resigned that post, what makes him a threat to the president’s reelection?”
“For most of that year, Knight had an ongoing affair with the first lady.”
“How was he able to seduce her into such a foolish liaison?”
Brad shook his head. “From what Bicky says, it was the other way around. The woman has trouble keeping her panties on. She’s the female version of our numerous past presidents who’ve used their position to seduce younger females. Equality must have its day, or some shit like that. Billy Knight was far from the first man faced with a put out or get out demand from the first lady. The president is busy, he’s older, and she’s a nympho, or, if she isn’t, she apparently does a great imitation. The woman’s only interest was in quickies, that is until her hookup with Billy Knight.”
“Assuming what you say is true, First Lady Carolyn Walker, was getting what she wanted and Knight, a single man, had what might be seen by many as a sweet setup. So, what’s the problem?”
“Too much talk in the halls of the White House. Over time, too many people came to know or suspect what was going on. Bickersley told me a rumor started up that if President Walker lost his reelection, Carolyn Walker planned to divorce the president and marry the younger, and soon to be richer Billy Knight. That cut it. Bickersley brought Knight in and coerced him into resigning in return for not being fired and forfeiting his pension.”
“What did Carolyn Walker have to say about having her lover forced out?”
“I have no direct knowledge of that. There are, however, rumors she is already interviewing for a replacement. File your application in the box below, if you get my drift.”
“Is that any way to refer to the nation’s first lady?”
“This one, yeah.”
“Life does go on, doesn’t it?”
“Except for me. I’m a dead man thanks to you.”
“What happened, Brad? You were a solid soldier, smarter and tougher than most. How did you get reduced to dealing with scum like Charlie Darrow and Ralph Martin, and threatening citizens and their children?”
“Money, man. You know that as well as I do. Money’s the drug of choice. Like I said, Bickersley can get his hands on damn near any amount of untraceable cash. That and having the ear of the president makes him very dangerous. For what it’s worth, I didn’t like this job. The unnamed lady seems like a nice enough person. And, I gotta admit, that gal has got a streak of tough broad in her. I like her. Haven’t met the child, but I’ve . . . observed her. No. I didn’t like it at all.”
“But here you are doing it anyway.”
“Live fast and die young, eh. That’s my motto.”
“You’re a resourceful man. They’ll have a hard time killing you, also finding you.” Sander interrupted with a shrug and grin. “Besides, when this story comes out, should you end up being murdered, the likelihood is the world will figure Bickersley was behind it. I believe you’ll be safer by telling it all. I’m pulling this entire shindig down around Bickersley’s head.”
“And the president doesn’t get reelected. Is that what this is about? You’d rather have that Dickerson dude as your president.”
“That’s not for me to decide. The story of the first lady may come out. If it does, it’s for the voters to decide its importance.”
Brad pointed at the recorder and waggled his finger. Ryan turned it off.
“You have a point, Cap’n. I guess it’s all part of our way of life.”
“Amen, brother. Men like you and me accepted contingencies like this when we chose a career of life or death. Okay, let’s get back to the matter at hand.” Ryan switched the recorder back on. “What was Bickersley’s instructions should you succeed in getting this woman to murder Mr. William Knight?”
“I was to kill her immediately. Bickersley called it his ‘Jack Ruby takes out Lee Harvey Oswald’ solution.”
“I see. Is there anything further you want to say that’s relevant to what we’re discussing?”
Brad shook his head.
“Is there anything you’ve said that you want to disavow or renounce?”
Brad shook his head. “Nah. Fuck Bickersley. He ain’t the devil, but he represents him in D.C.”
“Speaking of Bickersley, I need you to call him.”
Brad sat up straight, taking down his crossed leg. Both feet flat on the floor.
Ryan motioned for Brad to re-cross his legs, he did. “Okay, use the same phone you always use to call him. I expect it’s a special number for a phone in Bickersley possession at all times. That he’ll recognize your number when the call comes in. You can tip him off somehow, if doing that’s worth your life.”
Brad nodded, a continuing nod.
“Give me your number for him.”
Brad did and Ryan wrote it down.
“Okay, here’s the script for what I want you to say. If he engages you beyond that, hang up.”
While Brad looked over the written page, Ryan turned off the video tape, leaving on the audio.
Brad dialed.
“Do not put it on speaker. He’ll know. I’ll be behind you. Remain slouched in the chair with your legs crossed. Hold the phone a short distance from your ear. Jam your other hand inside the front of your pants and grab your dick. If you let go, I’ll shoot it off.”
