Tail Spin

right here on Capitol Hill. He even had enough juice to have gone from one top-dog master to another in under two weeks.
    Nichols said, “I’m sorry but as I said when you called, Agent Crowne, I have very little free time this morning. Senator Jankel has a vote before noon and I must brief him.
    “Let me say I was flabbergasted by the FBI press conference and their speculations about Senator Abbott’s tragic death. Do you ... do they ... really believe Senator Abbott was murdered, that his death was set up to look like an accident, and every local and federal agency was fooled?”
    So you want to play, do you? Jack said, “That’s about the size of it, yes. There’s very little doubt at this point.”
    Nichols sat down heavily behind his lovely mahogany desk, waved them both to the chairs in front. His back was to the window, naturally, with the sun flooding Jack’s and Rachael’s faces. Jack angled his chair, and Rachael did the same.
    Jack looked around. “Nice digs.”
    “Yes, these offices are among the finest. A senior senator has usually garnered enough influence over the years for a large office. As chairman of the Ways and Means Committee, Senator Jankel is a major spokesman for the party. You should see the senator’s office if this one impresses you.”
    Jack said, “Do you enjoy being the power behind the throne, Mr. Nichols?”
    An eyebrow went up. “Power, Agent Crowne? Do you know, I’ve never really thought of it that way. No, rather, I think of myself as a facilitator, a person who keeps things running smoothly, a person the senator can trust implicitly to implement his ideas, to prepare him for whatever demands come up. But I only do what he wants done. Now, enough about me. Tell me what I can do for you.”
    “Mr. Nichols, you knew Senator Abbott possibly better than anyone, including his brother and sister and Rachael.”
    Nichols said, “That only makes sense since I worked closely with him for thirteen years before his death. As for Rachael, she only had weeks.” He shrugged. “His siblings ... well, here’s honesty for you— only the Abbott name tied them together. There were never any bonds of affection, any genuine love or caring—at least that’s how it always seemed to me. The senator’s father—I met the old man exactly once. He looked at me like I was a mutt. He was an imperious old buzzard with an iron fist. He died less than five months before his eldest son. I knew he and his son rarely spoke. Senator Abbott said only that he and his father didn’t see eye to eye about his career choice. I think that was an understatement. I thought it was probably a good deal more.
    “When Rachael came into his life, not long after his father’s death, I believe Senator Abbott hoped to get closer to his siblings, for Rachael’s sake—wanted all of them to come together again as a family, but...” His voice hitched, his eyes blurred for a moment. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, it’s difficult ... I’ve just begun to accept his death, but now, to hear you say it wasn’t an accident, that some crazy person actually murdered him, I ...” He stopped, shook his head, looked down at his clasped hands on the desktop.
    “How did you come into Senator Abbott’s orbit, Mr. Nichols?”
    That brought his head up. “Call me Greg, please. Fact is, I met Senator Abbott when I was fresh out of law school, betwixt and between, I suppose you could say, uncertain what I wanted to do. I was sitting in the Big Raisin, an English pub and restaurant over on Platt Avenue, drinking a beer, wondering what I was doing here in Washington, of all places. I didn’t know anybody, didn’t have a single contact, and yet I’d taken the train down from New York to interview for a job that morning and was nursing a beer and thinking I was a great fool.
    “Senator Abbott came in and sat down beside me, ordered a martini, two olives. He looked familiar, but I didn’t realize who he was. He seemed like a nice businessman, friendly, passing the time while waiting for his lunch guest. He asked me what a young guy with a bad haircut was doing sitting at a bar in the middle of the day, and why I wasn’t out building bridges or teaching children math.
    “I laughed, told him it was all happenstance I was even in Washington, in that particular restaurant, drinking that particular beer, which I should point out was warm.
    “He rolled his eyes, said, Ah, it’s English.’ We continued to talk,