“I’m not sure it ever is,” Chad admitted. “Why did you clue them in on the cabal?”
“Morse knew where I was because Dink knew where I was from the predators. What he was really after was a private inquiry, just him and me, with nobody monitoring it, so he could extort information or misinformation by threatening me or my family.” She recalled Morse’s face and added, “Or by other means.”
“What’s his motive?”
“Oh, hell, Chad, I don’t know! Maybe he actually believes the president invited the Pistach here, or the predators. Maybe the rest of the cabal didn’t tell him they were talking to the predators, so he believes the accusation he just made. Maybe he thinks he can make a name for himself by interrogating the envoys, and he thinks he can get at them through me. Maybe he’s just pulling a McCarthy, telling big lies and getting his name in the newspapers. What’s your best guess?”
Chad frowned. “It’s likely he’s known about the predators all along. It’s probable he doesn’t care whether the information he might get out of you is true or not so long as it includes something he can use. He’s part of a small group who would rather get the president than go to heaven. It’s deeply personal, it’s unabashed hatred, and he keeps yanking at the strings, trying to find something that will come unraveled. It’s like the independent prosecutor business. If you don’t have a case, just unlimber your fishing poles and go at it until you catch something you can blow up into a case, no matter how irrelevant it is.”
She watched him thinking, each separate thought crossing his face like a cloud shadow, darkening and lightening, the way she had seen them do over the canyon lands, revealing, concealing. She wanted to touch his face, and the thought made her bite her lip and clench her hands. He was a married man. With young sons. He was not available. Nor was she. Nonetheless, though the urge had been a very modest one, it was the first honest-to-God even remotely sexual urge she’d had in … a very long time!
She switched her mind to another subject. “There have to be a few honest men on that committee who know we appeared voluntarily and won’t let him get away with murder,” she murmured.
“You mean literal murder? You think he would kill you?” “If he wanted to get rid of me and could do it without getting caught. He can still get me arrested on some pretext or other, like that contempt of Congress business. And once I’m in custody, something might happen to me. I’m taking Chiddy’s word that I don’t have to worry about Bert or Carlos and the girl.”
“And you’ve made it less likely for Morse to take action by implicating a committee staff member.”
“I hope I did,” she murmured. “Give them all something else to chew on. I was careful to say I couldn’t swear to it, so they can’t get me on perjury.”
“Remind me never to play cards with you,” he said.
“I was worried that Morse might talk about the Inkleozese,” she murmured. “That really was a conspiracy, of sorts, between the Pistach and the Inkleozese themselves, but Morse is pretending it never happened.”
“Right. If he acknowledges they impregnated him, someone may commiserate with him, or grin at him, or laugh behind his back, and he couldn’t take that.”
“He’s going to have to deal with it sooner or later.”
“Maybe denial is the only way he can function at all,” said Chad. “The whole business has to be pretty traumatic.” He got up. “We’d better go back and see if they’re continuing or recessing.”
They were continuing. Morse was gone, the vice chairman of the committee had taken over, and he did want to know about the Inkleozese.
“I saw them on TV,” Benita said. “When everyone else did. Also, the envoys told me about them. Evidently their specialty is to serve as monitors and observers for the Confederation.”
“Are they female?” the vice chairman wanted to know. “And if so, why were only females sent here?”