“Do we have people on the ground looking for . . . well, what? Space landings?”
“The FBI’s been alerted. They haven’t come up with anything. Oh, a mass disappearance in Oregon, but that’s probably a kidnapping by eco-terrorists.”
“Mass disappearance?”
“Eleven men, loggers.”
Dink offered, “It could be part of a general eco-terrorism campaign. Three guys in Florida were done in, too.”
“Loggers?’
“No. They were draining wetlands.”
“Well, keep me informed,” the senator grunted, his euphoria only slightly dimmed by this niggle.
“Anything else we can do for you?” asked Dink.
Morse leaned back, tenting his fingers. “You could be helpful.”
“Always glad to be of service.”
“I’ve got a pro-life bill coming up. It could be delayed, but my best guess is two weeks from now. The usual people will be arguing, nobody will be listening, but I had this flash. I’ve been getting flak from some of the neanderthals. They’ve had too many of their sharpshooters and bombers arrested lately, and they’re scared to use force but hungry to go on the offense. It occurred to me some of my liberal opponents might be vulnerable on the issue if they’ve personally used abortion services.”
Dink frowned. “I don’t understand? If they’ve used services?”
“I’m thinking, maybe some of them have had someone close to them who had an abortion. I’m not going to take up floor time in the Senate with it, you make too many enemies that way. But, if I had something concrete, I could do a C-SPAN bit, challenging one or more of them. The tape would make good campaign stuff in a few soft areas. Would there be any way to get hold of those records?”
Dink stared at the ceiling. “We’d need names.”
“You know who they are, Dink. And we can go back over twenty years on some of them.”
Arthur spoke up, “No, Senator. You misunderstand him. We’d need the names of the women.”
Morse was taken aback. “I was thinking wives. Maybe daughters?”
The two men shared a look, then Arthur shook his head. “It wouldn’t look good, Senator. Attacking a fellow legislator for a medical decision made in the family would not go down well. No matter how people say they feel about abortion when they answer a public poll, they want private stuff kept private. People don’t like interference with privacy issues. Remember that impeachment fiasco? All we did was make people mad at us. Remember what happened in 2000? The issue is loaded, By. I wouldn’t go there.”
The senator’s lips curved in a tiny, icy smile. “Suppose you dig up some names for me, and I’ll decide what risks to take.”
“We’ll look around,” said Arthur, after a pause and with a significant glance at his colleague. “We’ll see what we can find.”
They talked about sports while they finished their drinks. The senator didn’t offer refills. He walked his two guests to the door, shutting it firmly behind them.
As they walked to their car, Dink remarked, “He didn’t ask many questions about the blips.”
“What could he ask? What do we know? There’s something flying around out there we don’t recognize, or it’s sunspots, or it’s interference, or it’s UFOs. The only reason we told him was to prevent his hearing about it from someone else.”
“This clinic idea of his, I wish he’d keep his eye on the ball.”
Arthur shrugged. “Give him credit, Dink. He knows money alone won’t elect him, and he knows where every voter in his state is and what turns them on. In this case, however, the down-side is bigger than the up-side, so we just have to manage him.”
“Manage him how?”
“Well, I’ll rattle the walls very gently to see if any worms crawl out of the woodwork. Then, if Morse reminds me about those names he wants, I’ll can tell him we’re working on it, but so far we haven’t come up with any names except Lupe’s.”
Dink’s jaw dropped. “Do you know that?”
“Let’s say I suspect it. I won’t say it unless I have to.”
“God, Prentice!”
“Forget I ever said it.”
“Said what?”
Benita—WEDNESDAY
On Wednesday morning, Benita called the bookstore and asked to speak to Simon. “Benita Alvarez,” she said. “I’d like to come in and talk to you about the job.”