The Accomplice; A Novel

7/31/2019 The Accomplice; A Novel

1/12


2/12

Tis is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and eventsportrayed in this novel are either products of the authors imagination or areused fictitiously.

.An imprint of St. Martins Press.

. Copyright 2012 by Charles Robbins. All rights re-served. Printed in the United States of America. For information, addressSt. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.thomasdunnebooks.comwww.stmartins.com

ISBN 978-1-250-01051-3

First Edition: September 2012

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1


3/12

T H E D A N C E

Henry Hatten shifted on the anteroom sofa, the dog-eared

sheaf of printouts in his lap beginning to blur, a picture of

Senator om Peele coalescing in his head from excited blue

underlines, arrows, and phrases. Te warm leather grudgingly

released and then reclaimed his suit pants, and Henry was

about to begin another pass through the folder when a mass

flashed toward him. He looked up to see Mike Sterba take two

final bounds. Before Henry could shield his papers, Sterbalifted him off the couch.

Te chief of staff nearly crushed him in a bear hug, then

dragged him past a receptionist who shot a distracted glance.

Sterba pulled him down the corridor into an offi ce that looked

like a combination tea parlor and trophy room. Dodging the

doorframe, Henry brushed an accent table, rattling framed

photos of a younger Sterba in a West Point football jersey, in

camouflage fatigues, and on the ski slopes with a blonde. He

1


4/12

2 | C H A R L E S R O B B I N S

settled against a barrister bookcase, beneath a bill with the

Presidents signature.

Sterba was sizing him up again, wondering whether thishad been a good idea, after all. Henry could tell. Hed seen

that look before, of hope, forced kindness, anxiety. He first saw

it fifteen years earlier on James, a deans list student who had

volunteered, maybe been assigned, as his escort when Henry

applied to rinity. Henry had been so proud that day, arriving

at the Manhattan prep school in the new outfit his father had

bought him, a slate-blue windbreaker with fabric so crisp itswished when he walked, a white dress shirt, brown EZ-Waist

poly-blend trousers, and white Pro Keds low-tops. He had got-

ten a haircut the day before on Steinway Street, a short pompa-

dour. James had swallowed at meeting him, then tried to cover

it with schoolyard gusto. Other kids came up to them, James

was popular and Henry was a curiosity, and James introduced

him repeatedly as a prospective. Te others took the cue, be-

came oh-so-polite ambassadors for rinity and the next gen-

eration of bermensches. A girl in a cable-knit sweater pointed

at him and grinned, then cupped her hand over her mouth,

eyes wide, when she realized he had seen her. Still, somehow,

rinity had taken him.

And now he was a prospective again, this time a refugeefrom the House of Representatives and a busted campaign try-

ing to crack the big time, maybe with the stench of small-time

sorrow and failure soaked into his best gray suit.

Sterba, posted by the door, watched the corridor. Boss is

about to file paperwork at the FEC to form an Exploratory, the

chief of staff said. You do the interview walking to the garage.

You get, maybe, two minutes with him.

Henry nodded. His temples throbbed and the pulse at the

hinge in his jaw pounded, the way they had half a lifetime ear-


5/12

T H E A C C O M P L I C E | 3

lier as a rinity wrestler, when his name blared across a gym

and he snapped on his headgear and trotted onto the mat. alk

about getting in on the ground floor, he said, just to say some-thing. He had been ready to gamble that om Peele would run

for President. Te Nebraska senator was the only moderate

Republican positioned for a serious bid. Hell, Peele was about

the only moderate Republican. But he hadnt expected action

so soon; the first voting, the Iowa caucuses, were fifteen months

away. Forming a presidential exploratory committee would give

Peele license to raise money and hire staff.Sterba leaned in, inches from Henrys face, the azure eyes

studying him, searing him. Sterba had a stake in this now, too.

Te chief of staff had interviewed Henry a few days earlier, and

apparently recommended him. If Peele nixed Henry, or he got

the job and flamed out, Sterba would catch the heat. If he takes

you on the ride to the FEC, thats the second interview, Sterba

said. He invites you into the FEC, you own the job.

Henry nodded again. So two minutes would spell his des-

tiny; whether he got profiled in up-and-comer Washington

Postand Politico columns and helped shape history, or crawled

back to his father for a bridge loan.

A Bronze Star medal glinted at Henry from a triple-matted

frame. Sterbas ego wall, even the photos with Peele, revolvedaround the chief of staff, a howl of I am! in a world where

aides identities subsumed into the bosss. Nothing here or, for

that matter, in the anteroom to suggest Peeles earlier on-screen

persona as keeper of Americas Marlboro Man idealism. Not a

magazine cover or even a photo from the V show Parkland.

Game on, Sterba called.

Henry felt a hand clamp between his shoulder blades and

shove him into the corridor. o his right, a column was closing

on him. Te Senator was in the lead, head forward. For an


6/12


instant, Henry froze. Peele, in person, exuded an aura that the

photos didnt capture. Henrys eyes caught first on the chin,

broad with a deep cleft, vintage Hollywood. Ten the hair,thick and graying progressively down the sides, the top still

mostly dark; just the way Henry had hoped his own locks

would one day gray, before they began thinning. Under a fore-

head that looked plains-etched, Peeles intense blue eyes scanned

the corridor above a chiseled nose and dimpled cheeks. om

Peele looked like a senator, with a mien that said rust me, Ill

save you.Squinting to erase the gray and the lines, Henry pictured a

younger Peele, as Vs Ranger Roy, flashing an aw-shucks grin

as he fought forest fires, rescued tourists and bears, and made a

generation of teenage girls swoon.

Ten, for a moment as Peele advanced, Henry met the blue

eyes. Despite himself, he wilted. Hed met plenty of senators,

sometimes over big stakes, and some of them pulsated with

power, while he didnt notice others until he was introduced.

Its something inside that a senator either has or doesnt. Size

can augment the effect, but cant create it. With om Peele, it

seemed to flow from the eyes. Peele wasnt that big, a shade

under six feet and maybe 190 pounds, but he seemed massive

stalking the corridor, even with a giant behind him.Te bald giants double-breasted suit, a lustrous charcoal

with beige chalk stripes, looked like it cost Henrys House press

secretary salary. As the man swaggered, a gold cuff link glinted.

Henry glanced down at his steel-gray Jos. A. Bank two-button,

which used to make him feel cool, with its pinstripes that met

at sharp angles where the lapel sections joined. His tie was

creased, a gash across the meat of the silk.

Henry fell in behind Sterba and the bald man, Sterbas line-

mans shoulders shifting in cadence before Henrys nose. Did


7/12


Peele schedule meetings when he planned to dash, posse in tow?

Maybe stagecraft picked up in Hollywood.

Tey cleared the anteroom and passed into a corridor, aherd of cap-toes and pumps slapping marble. Sterba trotted up

on point and made the introductions.

Up close, Henry noticed that Peele hadnt shaved the back

of his neck, leaving stubble that extended from hairline to col-

lar. Te guy wasnt perfect.

Ive been a fan, Senator, since your speech about the fringe

turning the Republican Party into a regional right-wing cult,Henry said, sliding between Peele and the bald man. He fo-

cused on forming the words flat, not slipping into a Queens

accent.

Peele nodded. Im looking for true believers. Te Senator

eyed the bald man. oo many mercenaries in this town.

Te giant scowled. Cass, the mans name was, Sterba had

said. Henry had seen the name before, maybe in a news story.

Senator, Henry began, but Cass stepped between them and

whispered to Peele.

At the elevators, Henry studied the metalwork, the way the

brass molding blended into the marble frame. He had a month

to land another Capitol Hill gig, before the sergeant at arms

locked ylers House offi ce and seized the staffs I.D. cards. Af-ter that, hed be just another outsider trying to claw in. For now,

fellow Hill rats were helping, like ylers health-care aide, who

had tipped him about Peeles job opening. Tey all knew that

the guy down today might be up tomorrow. Tey all knew the

stories, like Kansas congressman Dan Glickman, unseated and

shunned, and then Clinton named him secretary of agricul-

ture, and all those guys who hadnt taken Glickmans calls

were begging him to take theirs. Henry had fantasized about

landing a top spot on a top-tier presidential campaign, once


8/12


nearly missing his Metro stop. And now it might actually

happen.

Te brass doors parted and Peeles crew marched in, Henrylast. Te descent and a short march took them to the Russell

Building garage, where a silver Lincoln was waiting, a grim

young aide at the wheel. A Buick SUV idled behind the Lin-

coln.

Sterba jumped in the Lincolns shotgun seat. Te rear door

opened, and Peele stepped toward it. Te word Senator formed

on Henrys tongue, but no breath came to expel it. He tried tomake contact with the blue eyes, but Peele was angling into the

cabin.

ake a ride, Henry, a high, nasal voice said. He spun to-

ward the sound and found Cass. Te voice seemed too small

and tinny for the big frame.

Henry squeezed between Cass and Peele in the backseat,

his feet on the driveshaft, shins pressed together. Cass scowled.

Te glare suggested deep secrets, that Cass knew how the

game was played, and could invite you in or throw you under.

Casss talc and aftershave scent both singed and soothed his

nostrils.

As the Lincoln flew up a ramp into daylight, Peele propped

on a pair of reading glasses and plucked Henrys rsum froma leather briefcase. Up close, Peele had pretty good skin, but a

few tiny purple blood vessels scored a cheek, like lines on a

map. Henry realized he was playing a game with Peele that he

usually worked on the subway with dauntingly beautiful women,

finding flaws to make them more approachable. Still, purple

capillaries and all, the former Heartland Heartthrob radiated

an anguished decency that made you want him to like you.

You got the best possible recommendation, Peele said,

reading a yellow sheet. From the opposition.


9/12


He felt himself glow. It must have been the Iowa governors

campaign manager, with whom he had sparred on camera af-

ter a debate, and who told him, You spin well. Or maybe themedia guru whose ads he had debunked.

Tank you, Senator.

Peele sifted papers. Henry squeezed his thumb in a fist.

Dartmouth, English major, Peele said, reading. Founded

and ran the Student Pizza Delivery Agency. You worked your

way through?

Partially, Henry said. Almost completely, actually. Hisfathers warehousemans pay barely covered his used text-

books.

rinity School before that, in New York City, Peele said,

swaying as the Lincoln bounced over a pothole. Guy who runs

Morgan Stanley, his kid goes to rinity. You were on scholar-

ship?

Henry felt his face heat. Yeah.

Peele nodded again. Five years on the Hill as a press secre-

tary. First for Morris from Alabama, then yler from Iowa.

Ten handled press for ylers run for governor. Were going to

need people who know Iowa.

Henry forced a quick smile. God, whatever else, dont ship me

back to Iowa.When he began with yler, a veteran reporter toldhim, If you ever find out you have six months to live, spend it

in Iowa; itll feel like ten years.

Hey, Im just a kid from Mead, Nebraska, Peele said, maybe

reading Henry. Had dirt under my fingernails till I was eigh-

teen. Te Senator swept an arm at Constitution Avenue. Tis

towns just a giant theme park of federal government. Most

weeks when we adjourn, I cant wait to get back to the real

world.

Peele was spouting the Washington blather that youd rather


10/12


be back with your constituents, the real people, at hog roasts

and pancake breakfasts, than stuck in this Sodom suffering

through the National Symphony and four-star dinners withCEOs. Henry felt himself smile. Peeles bottom lip curled, say-

ing the Senator saw that Henry knew the dance. But Peele had

also seen through his Knickerbocker society guise.

Henry had to keep the conversation going. What to say?

Yeah, I guess true believer says it. Congressman yler called

for enlightened, progressive Republicans to rise and stifle the

shrill cries of the extremist right that hijacked the party. Well,this isnt the time to be modest; I wrote that.

Peele nodded again, only slightly this time. Cass rolled deep

brown eyes.

What went wrong with Doug? Peele asked.

Nothing, Henry said. We nearly took out a three-term

governor in a Republican primary.

Peele seemed to be waiting for him to say more. o say

what? An image of ylers primary-night party at the Des

Moines Holiday Inn filled his head, the melting ice sculpture

after ylers concession speech, the thinning crowd hitting the

ballroom bar.

We knew it was uphill from the start, Henry said, basi-

cally asking Iowans to fire a guy who hadnt done anythingwrong just because we said we could do better. Tats a tough

trick without a scandal.

Without a scandal? Casss nasal voice bounced around the

cabin. Te Governors son was selling dope in a Laundromat

in Denison. You needed someone to draw you a picture?

Henrys face fizzed, sending white rays up through his eyes.

How could they know about that? He had agonized for two

days, recalling decent neighborhood kids who shoplifted or

worse as rites of passage on Astorias streets. By the time he


11/12


called the Denison police for the incident report, nobody there

seemed to know the Governor even had a son.

He never told yler, who also surely would have sat on thedirt; you dont ruin a sixteen-year- olds life to win an election.

wo weeks later, he told Fran. She scoffed. No absolution, no

sympathy. Later that night, when he invited himself to her hotel

room, she told him, in her opposition researcher snarl, she didnt

feel like it. Tat was the last time he had seen or spoken to her.

But Fran wouldnt have said anything, wouldnt have be-

trayed him. Would she? No, it must have been ylers Craw-ford County chairman, who had given Henry the tip. Peele

was exploring Iowa for a presidential run; the Senators people

had probably run into the Crawford guy, an electrical contrac-

tor also plugged in politically.

Henry looked at Cass. We couldnt get anything solid on

that.

Cass raised an eyebrow. Sterba swallowed, maybe worried

about Peele chewing him out for wasting his time.

Sterba looked like a solid 240 or 250 pounds. If Henry had

to take him out, right now, he thought, the move was an eye

gouge. Henry had conjured these scenes since rinity, to ease

tension when he felt bullied or stressed. Te fantasies grew

more complex when he began aikido training. Yeah, hed spreadhis fingers, bend the joints slightly, then jab his hand like a

fork at Sterbas eyes. Tat way, one or two fingers would hit an

eyeball, and the others would bend back safely against bone.

From there, once Sterba was blinded, hed clench Sterbas hair

with one hand and ram the base of his other palm into Sterbas

nose, repeatedly.

He felt his breathing deepen, and his eyes narrow. He sat

straight. Te look had flashed for only a second. Nobody could

have seen it. He scanned the faces. Cass was staring at him.


12/12

!"# %&' !(() *(+

,-./01

!.2134 5 *0673

819:3!0;19

The Accomplice; A Novel

Documents

Transcript of The Accomplice; A Novel