Masked Prey (Lucas Davenport #30)(69)

“Maybe you’re amazed because you never had to do that,” Lucas said. “Being born with a gold brick up that ass.”

“That’s not it,” Henderson said. “Sure, I chose the right parents and got born rich. But if I wasn’t rich, I wouldn’t grub. I know all kinds of good people who are willing to work hard but would refuse to grub around for money like some of these guys. I’m mean, it’s embarrassing.”

He hesitated in mid-rant, then said, “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. What happened? And why can’t I tell Porter?”

“Because Porter’s a Republican and Roberta Coil is a Southern Democrat who is holding on to her seat by her fingernails. I looked. She won her last election by fewer than nine thousand votes. And the Senate is delicately balanced right now.”

Henderson leaned forward. “Jesus Christ, what are you about to tell me?”

Lucas said, “The 1919 website was invented by Audrey Coil, Senator Coil’s daughter.”

Now Henderson leaned back, nearly speechless, until he managed, “Oh, fuck me! Lucas, that can’t be right!”

“Yeah, it is. I was afraid Porter . . .”

“Porter can’t know about this,” Henderson sputtered. “He would turn it into a political sledgehammer. In fact, nobody can know. If it gets in the media, Coil might have to resign from the Senate. We can’t afford to lose her.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“And you have proof? That the daughter did it?” Henderson demanded.

Lucas explained about Audrey Coil’s laptop and about Blake Winston’s investigation, and about the metadata.

“You trust this Winston kid?”

“Yes. He looked because I asked him to,” Lucas said. “His mother was dead-set against it.”

“Wait—so there are at least two other people who know about this? Winston, and his mother?”

“And his father will probably hear about it, if he hasn’t already. I’ve warned them to keep their mouths shut, but, you know . . . freedom of speech. I don’t know their political affiliation, but they’re rich and have Southern roots.”

“Goddamnit, that’s not good,” Henderson chugged half of the remaining beer, eyes closed.

Lucas didn’t mention Jane Chase.



* * *



—

“WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?” Lucas asked.

Henderson got up, prowled around the room, hands in his jacket pockets, a scowl on his face. He looked out the window where he could see a curve in the Potomac, and down at Lucas’s Walther sitting on the desk, in its holster. He picked up the gun, hefted it, put it back down.

Finally, he said, “We have to talk to Bob Coil. Like, right now. I’ll call my office, get her personal cell phone. Maybe we can catch her on this side of the river.”

“You want to talk to her without the daughter?”

“If we can. Because, we’re gonna sit here and figure out how we can convince Bob Coil that Audrey did this and how she might get Audrey to admit it, so we know for sure,” Henderson said. “Then the daughter gets shipped back to wherever they’re from and where no media is likely to go chasing after her.”

“The FBI may start a blitz, hitting alt-right groups. They’ll use that would-be sniper they caught as an excuse,” Lucas said. “They’ll try to scare the shit out of the leadership, so maybe there won’t be any more attempts and the whole thing will go away. If we can just make it go away for a while, drop out of the news . . .”

Henderson pulled at his lower lip. “If the FBI does that, we’ll go to the media outlets, Porter and I, and tell them that their coverage is encouraging crazies to go after these kids. We’ll tell them that if somebody gets shot, we’ll start a bipartisan boycott of their advertisers. That’ll cool off the news coverage. You’re right—if it goes away for a while, we’re probably good.”



* * *



—

HENDERSON CALLED HIS OFFICE, got a number for Roberta Coil, called it, learned that Coil was in a staff conference. He asked her to come to the Watergate, told her it was urgent. She asked about that. “I was told not to discuss certain things on cell phones because they’re actually radios, that other people listen to,” Henderson told her, glancing over at Lucas.

He gave her Lucas’s room number. When he hung up, he said, “She’ll be here in an hour. Let’s go downstairs and get something to eat. I could use something stronger than a beer.”

They adjourned to the dining room, got hamburgers, and Henderson got a vodka tonic and then a second one while Lucas settled on a Diet Coke. They talked for a few minutes about wives and family, then Lucas yawned, and said, “I’m getting tight about talking with Coil. It’s giving me the yawns.”

“So am I. I don’t know her well, but she has the reputation of a woman with sharp edges,” Henderson said. “This will not make her happy.”

“She gonna get me fired?”

“No, that won’t happen. You’ve got way too much protection and from both parties. But if she quits, or is forced out, then you’re right—Georgia has a Republican governor who’ll appoint her replacement and we’ll lose the seat.”