All Night Long

pink-and-white fairy-tale room. She appeared to be no more than ten or eleven years of age, blond and delicate.
    “She looks like a flower girl at a wedding,” Tess said softly.
    The girl was dressed in a floor-length white satin gown. A gossamer veil clouded her features. She came to a halt a few steps away from Webb.
    Irene went cold. She felt the phone start to slip from her suddenly nerveless fingers and hastily tightened her grip.
    “Not the flower girl,” she whispered. “She’s the bride.”
    Tess paled. “Oh, my God. You’re right.”
    “Irene?” Luke’s voice crackled roughly. “Are you okay?”
    “It’s the film clip,” she said. “There’s a young girl dressed as a bride. And Webb. I can’t believe it. No.
    I can believe it. That’s what’s so awful.”
    “I’ve got to call Phil. As soon as I get in touch with him, I’ll call you right back.”
    “Okay.” She was vaguely aware of Luke’s cutting the connection, but she could not take her eyes of he screen.
    Webb rose from the pink chair. The bulge of his erection was clearly visible, tenting the fabric of his trousers. He reached out, took the child bride’s hand and said something to her, his manner a mockery of gallant behavior. The girl did not respond in any visible way. Irene assumed that she was in some sort of trance that had been induced by either the psychological trauma of the situation, drugs or both.
    Webb tugged the girl toward the door. She trailed after him listlessly, the train of her miniature white gown dragging forlornly across the carpet behind her.
    The film clip went dark. A second later a new scene appeared. The setting was a frilly pink-and-white wedding-cake bedroom. It was obvious from the limited range of the camera’s view and the lowered lighting that this clip had also been shot clandestinely. The child bride stood statue-still next to the bed, clutching her bouquet.
    Webb walked into view. He was nude, his middle-aged body soft and sagging and obscene without the camouflage of his expertly tailored clothes. He reached out to raise the wedding veil that covered the child’s face.
    “I can’t watch any more of this,” Irene said. She spun away from the scene before she got physically ill.
    “Neither can I.” Tess lowered the screen of the computer.
    Irene’s phone sounded.
    “Luke?”
    “Phil’s on his way” Luke said. “What’s happening in that film clip?”
    Irene looked out the window at the dark expanse of the lake. “I think we just found out why Pamel as murdered.”

Forty-Two
    Pamela looked into the camera. She was still sitting on the sofa, the glass of wine in her hand. ocking smile curved her mouth, but her eyes were as cold as northern seas.
    [_”That was taken on Daddy’s last trip out of the country. Pretty sick stuff isn’t it? _]

    Got to give
    Hoyt Egan some credit. He accompanied Daddy on some of the foreign junkets
and figured out what was going on. He bribed one of the brothel employees to
make that video. Thing is, until I discovered a few weeks ago that Hoyt Egan was
blackmailing my father with that video, I had convinced myself that Daddy wasn’t
doing little girls anymore. Turns out he’d just taken his business out of the country.
    [_Talk about denial, hmm?” _]
    Irene clutched the cell phone. “Can you hear this, Luke?”
    “I can hear it,” he said softly. “Webb is a pedophile, and he’s getting set to run for president. You’r ight, what you’re looking at is a hell of a motive for murder—a couple of them, in fact.”
    “Pamela and Hoyt Egan.”
    “I’ve got to call Tanaka,” Luke said. “I want him to find out where Webb is right now. Once I kno he sonofabitch isn’t anywhere near Dunsley, I’ll feel a little better. Meanwhile, make sure Tess’s doors are locked.”
    Tess was close enough to hear Luke’s voice coming out of the small phone. She was already on her feet. “I’ll take care of it.”
    “I’ll be there as soon as I can get away from here,” Luke said. “Don’t let anyone in except Phil.”
    “Understood,” Irene said.
    Luke cut the connection.
    Tess hurried back into the living room and sat down on the couch. “We’re all secure, as Phil would say.”
    On-screen, Pamela lowered her wineglass.
    “You’ll see from the charge card expenses and flight records that I’ve included in
[_one of the _]
    other files that Daddy’s done a lot of traveling abroad in the past few years.
    Southeast Asia
    used to he his