Silken Prey

room with a long table, a dozen chairs, five lawyers including Lockes, the attorney general, Sorensen, and Dunn. A court reporter sat at the far end of the table with a steno machine and a tape recorder.
    Lucas was sworn, and told the same story he’d told Sorensen the night before, but in more detail. Lockes, a narrow, dark-haired man who looked like he ran marathons, probed for the reason Lucas had taken the assignment directly from the governor.
    “The governor told me that he knew Senator Smalls personally, a lifelong . . . relationship, if not exactly a friendship,” Lucas said. “He said that Senator Smalls swore to him that he was innocent, and had been set up, probably by somebody on the campaign committee staff—possibly a spy working for the Democratic Party. The governor was inclined to believe him, judging from his knowledge of Smalls’s character. The governor was then concerned on two fronts: First, one of simple fairness, if Senator Smalls was telling the truth. Second, he worried that if it was, in fact, a dirty trick, it could come back to haunt his party during the elections.”
    “But why did he come to you, specifically, rather than speak to Rose Marie Roux or Henry Sands?” Lockes asked.
    “Because speed was required. Urgently required. The governor was familiar with my work, and once he decided to move, he informed Rose Marie, who informed Henry, and he talked to me, all within a very short period of time. I’m not sure of the exact sequence there.”
    Dunn asked, “Do you routinely take political assignments directly from the governor?”
    “No. And I object to that characterization,” Lucas snapped. “The governor realized that a crime had been committed and that an important election could be affected by it.”
    “He didn’t
know
that a crime had been committed,” Dunn said.
    “Of course he did,” Lucas said. “If Senator Smalls was knowingly in possession of child pornography, then he’d committed a crime. If somebody planted the pornography on Senator Smalls, then a different crime had been committed. It had to be one or the other, so the crime was there. As a senior agent of the BCA, he asked me to find out the truth of the matter, and as rapidly as possible, with the least amount of bureaucratic involvement, in an effort to resolve this before the election. I’d emphasize that he was looking for the truth, not just to clear Senator Smalls. It’d be far better for the governor’s party if Smalls was guilty: it would give them an extra Senate seat in a very tight political situation.”
    Lockes said tentatively, “There’s been some mention of possible involvement by the Minneapolis Police Department.”
    Lucas shook his head. “That’s purely conjecture at this point.” He explained about what appeared to be an evidentiary photograph among the rest of the pornography.
    “And this could tie in to the disappearance of Mr. Tubbs,” Lockes said.
    “Again, conjecture at this point,” Lucas said.
    “But if there’s anything to all of this, if Tubbs doesn’t show up somewhere . . . then we’re talking about a murder.”
    Lucas nodded: “Yes. I’m treating it as a murder investigation.”
    Dunn started to jump in. “If the governor asked—”
    Lockes held up a hand to stop him, then said to Lucas: “You’re a busy man, with a murder out there. You better get back to it.”
    Lucas stood and said, “Thanks. I do need to do that.”
    And was gone.
    •   •   •
    H E CALLED THE GOVERNOR, outlined his testimony, and Henderson said, “Lockes told me he was going to wind it up today. Your computer pals are testifying later this afternoon, and that should be it. I don’t know what he’s planning to do, but after talking to me and Smalls, I suspect he smells dogshit on his shoe. If he wants to run for this office in two years, he doesn’t need both me and Smalls on his ass. He’s gonna have to get through a primary.”
    “What about Smalls? Could he be a problem?”
    “No. He owes us big, and he knows it, and Porter does pay his bills,” the governor said. “If it turns out Tubbs did it to him . . . well, Tubbs is probably dead. Not much blood to be wrung out of that stone, even if he wanted to.”
    “Is he going to win the election?”
    “Neil says no—but I’m not sure. Porter’s always been pretty resilient. On the other hand, his opponent is pretty hot, has an ocean of money, and a lead, with momentum. Not much time left.