ABSOLUTE POWER By: DAVID BALDACCI

as he pulled out a banana and an egg biscuit.

Frank shifted uncomfortably in the worn seat. A piece of metal jabbed

into his back. The car reeked of cigarette smoke.

“Were either of them ever alone in the master bedroom or the house?”

“Always somebody in the house. Man had a lot of people working there.

They coulda gone upstairs by themselves. I never kept a watch on them.

Wasn’t my job, you know?”

“How’d Rogers and Budizinski come to be working with you that day?”

Jerome thought for a moment. “I’m not sure, come to think of it. I know

it was an early job. It might’ve just been they were the first ones

here. Sometimes that’s all it takes.”

“So if they knew ahead of time You were going to do a place like that

early, and they got here before everyone else, they could hook on with

you?”

“Yeah, I guess they could. Man, we just look for bodies, You know what

I’m saying? Don’t take no brain surgeon to do this shit.”

“When was the last time you saw them?”

The Other man scrunched up his face, bit into his banana.

“Couple Of Months ago, maybe longer. Buddy left first, never said why.

Guys come and go all the time. I’ve been here longer than anybody except

Mr. Patterson. Slick moved away, I think.”

“Know where?”

“I remember him saying something about Kansas. Some construction work.

He used to be a carpenter. Got laid off up here when commercial went

belly up. Good with his hands.”

Frank wrote this information down while Jerome finished his breakfast.

They walked back to the garage together.

Frank looked inside the van, at all the hoses, power handles, bottles

and heavy cleaning equipment.

‘This the van you used to do the Sullivan place?”

“This been my van for three years. Best one in the place.”

“You keep the same equipment in the van?”

“Damn straight.”

“Then you better get a new van for a while.”

“What?” Jerome slowly climbed out of the driver’s seat.

“I’ll talk to Patterson. I’m impounding this one.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“No, Jerome, I’m afraid I’m not.”

“WALTER, THIS IS JACK GRAHAm. JACK, WALTER SULLIVAN.”

Sandy Lord sat down heavily in his chair. Jack shook hands with Sullivan

and then the men sat around the small table in conference room number

five. It was eight o’clock in the morning and Jack had been in the

office since six after pulling two all-nighters. He had already consumed

three cups of coffee and proceeded to pour himself out a fourth from the

silver coffee pot.

“Walter, I’ve told Jack about the Ukraine deal. We’ve gone over the

structure. The Hill word looks real good. Richmond pushed all the right

buttons. The Bear’s dead. Kiev got the glass slipper. Your boy came

through.”

“He’s one of my best friends. I expect that from my friends. But I

thought we had enough lawyers on this deal.

Padding the bill, Sandy?” Sullivan heaved himself up and looked out the

window at the pristine early-morning sky that promised a beautiful fall

day. Jack glanced sideways at the man as he made notes from the crash

course on Sullivan’s latest deal. Sullivan didn’t look all that

interested in completing the multibillion international monolith. Jack

didn’t know that the old man’s thoughts hung back at a morgue in

Virginia, remembering a face.

Jack had caught his breath when Lord had ceremoniously appointed him to

play second chair to Lord on the biggest transaction currently going on

in the firm, leapfrogging over several top Partners and a host of

associates senior to Jack.

Hard feelings had already started to roll through the plush hallways. At

this point Jack didn’t care. They didn’t have Ransomed Baldwin as a

client. Regardless of how he had gotten it, he had rain, substantial

rain. He was tired of feeling guilty for his Position- This was Lord’s

test case on Jack’s abilities. He had as good as said it. Well, if he

wanted the deal rammed through, Jack would deliver. Philosophical,

politically correct ivory tower babble didn’t cut it here. Only results.

“Jack is one of our best attorneys. He’s also Baldwin’s legal eagle.”

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