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Jordan sneered and took his last sip. “Look—I’m going to head on out.”
“You stay right there,” Dimitri said, stabbing a finger into Jordan’s chest. “Both of you, tell me what you’ve done.”
“Go ahead,” Moira said, giving the floor to Jordan.
“I gave the Goldberg file to the New York Times. I also gave a copy to the Senate Intelligence Committee Chairman, Bob Lorenz.”
Dimitri stared at the two of them.
“Did you ever think it would be a good idea to ask me first?”
Jordan started to answer, carefully. “Dimitri, we thought about it first, we did. But in light of the fact thatwedid it, as opposed to you, it would give an extra credibility to it, comingfrom outside the inner circle of Washington. You’re, well, you’reconnected.”
“Which has just saved Moira’s life.” He stared down at her, frowning. “You aren’t even back here for a night and you’re already forgetting what strings I pulled to rescue your family.”
“Stop thinking that way, Dimitri. Less monsters in the lake make it safer to swim. None of us think it’s really safe. We’re not saying that. But we’re making it easier for others to come forward with their things.”
“You have evidence there are others?”
“We’ve heard rumblings,” said Jordan.
“Rumblings. Do you suppose you just drew a big target on your backs and mine in the process? Oh, and while we’re at it, how about the president of the United States!”
Several others in the sushi joint turned, Dimitri’s voice carrying above the conversation level of the audience.
“Keep it down. Don’t go off all commando-style on me,” she said.
“What’s the harm? I’m fucked, Moira. I’m completely fucked. And you might have ruined the best friend I had in D.C. How can he ever trust me again?”
“Which is exactly, like Jordan said, why it was a good idea he sent the file in. And you didn’t approve.”
“But we lose all control. We don’t know what kind of a spin they’ll have on it.” He put his face in his hands, elbows resting on the table. “I’ve got to get hold of the president.”
He stood, and as he did so, Jordan scampered out the door beside him. Standing in the street, a light mist draining from the clouds above he could not see, he dialed the president. The sound in the background indicated he’d just taken a sip of what Dimitri knew to be the $200 bottle of whiskey he’d given him for Christmas, fortifying himself.
He wished he had one too.
“I imagine you called to say you’re sorry?” he said.
“I just found out what they did.”
“Whattheydid? You haven’t seen the papers yet then.”
“Just landed. What are you talking about?”
“Senator Goldberg just publicly asked for my resignation. Now I’m considering my options. Things were simpler a hundred years ago. When I could solve my problems for a hundred well-placed dollars.”
“That’s folly. Why is he asking this?”
“Public corruption. He got wind of your little caper in the Mediterranean. They’ve got pictures of you wearing drag. Dimitri, tell me this isn’t so.”
“Where?” And then he figured it out. Goldberg got hold of Davis, and Davis released the photos. And apparently told Goldberg he had the president intervene.
“Well, there’s another bombshell brewing, sir. Moira’s assistant, if you can call him that, released a corruption file of his own on Goldberg to the New York Times today. And sent a copy to the Intelligence Committee, outlining how Senator Goldberg was in bed with a dirty Italian government official, the man you spoke with yesterday, sir. Enrico Francone. They sent bank records, copies of transfer deeds, pictures of assets used and seized, guns, you name it. I just literally found out about it five minutes ago.”
“My sister told me I shouldn’t trust you, that it would only mean headache after headache. She was right. She usually is. But in this case, Dimitri, I’d rather have a headache than be impeached or be out of a job. I’d say their timing couldn’t be better. We should both drink to that.”
Chapter Nineteen
