The Best Laid Plans by Sidney Sheldon

“Oh, God! The papers will love this.” Captain Miller took a deep breath. “Why don’t you think the boy’s guilty?”

“He admits he was in the girl’s suite, but he said she told him to leave because she was expecting someone. I think the kid’s too smart to come up with a story that stupid. What I do believe is that he knows who Chloe Houston was expecting. He won’t say who it was.”

“Do you have any idea?”

“It was her first time in Washington, and they were on a tour of the White House. She didn’t know anyone here. She said she was going to the ladies’ room. There is no public rest room in the White House. She would have had to go outside to the Visitor’s Pavilion on the Ellipse at 15th and E streets or to the White House Visitor Center. She was gone about fifteen minutes. What I think happened is that while trying to find a ladies’ room, she ran into someone in the White House, someone she might have recognized. Maybe someone she saw on TV. Anyway, it must have been somebody important. He led her to a private washroom and impressed her enough that she agreed to meet him at the Monroe Arms.”

Captain Miller was thoughtful. “I’d better call the White House. They asked to be kept up-to-date on this. Don’t let up on the kid. I want that name.”

“Right.”

As Detective Reese walked out the door, Captain Miller reached for the telephone and dialed a number. A few minutes later, he was saying, “Yes, sir. We have a material witness in custody. He’s in a holding cell at the Indiana Avenue police station.…We won’t, sir. I think the boy will give us the man’s name tomorrow… Yes, sir. I understand.” The line went dead.

Captain Miller sighed and went back to the pile of papers on his desk.

At eight o’clock the following morning, when Detective Nick Reese went to Paul Yerby’s cell, Yerby’s body was hanging from one of the top bars.

18

DEAD 16-YEAR-OLD IDENTIFIED AS DAUGHTER OF COLORADO GOVERNOR BOYFRIEND IN POLICE CUSTODY HANGS HIMSELF POLICE HUNT MYSTERY WITNESS

He stared at the headlines and felt suddenly faint. Sixteen years old. She had looked older than that. What was he guilty of? Murder? Manslaughter, maybe. Plus statutory rape.

He had watched her come out of the bathroom of the suite, wearing only a shy smile. “I’ve never done this before.”

And he had put his arms around her and stroked her. “I’m glad the first time is with me, honey.” Earlier, he had shared a glass of liquid Ecstasy with her. “Drink this. It will make you feel good.” They had made love, and afterward she had complained about not feeling well. She had gotten out of bed, stumbled, and hit her head against the table. An accident. Of course, the police would not see it that way. But there’s nothing to connect me with her. Nothing.

The whole episode had an air of unreality, a nightmare that had happened to someone else. Somehow, seeing it in print made it real.

Through the walls of the office, he could hear the sound of traffic on Pennsylvania Avenue, outside the White House, and he became aware again of his surroundings. A cabinet meeting was scheduled to begin in a few minutes. He took a deep breath. Pull yourself together.

In the Oval Office were gathered Vice President Melvin Wicks, Sime Lombardo, and Peter Tager.

Oliver walked in and sat behind his desk. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

There were general greetings.

Peter Tager said, “Have you seen the Tribune, Mr. President?”

“No.”

“They’ve identified the girl who died at the Monroe Arms Hotel. I’m afraid it’s bad news.”

Oliver unconsciously stiffened in his chair. “Yes?”

“Her name is Chloe Houston. She’s the daughter of Jackie Houston.”

“Oh, my God!” The words barely escaped the president’s lips.

They were staring at him, surprised at his reaction. He recovered quickly. “I—I knew Jackie Houston…a long time ago. This—this is terrible news. Terrible.”

Sime Lombardo said, “Even though Washington crime is not our responsibility, the Tribune is going to hammer us on this.”

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