Murder Inside the Beltway - Margaret Truman [121]
Rollins didn’t envy him, any more than he envied himself.
THIRTY-NINE
The rumor that the tapes existed was bad news enough for the Colgate campaign, but it paled in comparison to the public exhibition.
That happened two days later, on a popular video site. Only an abbreviated portion of one tape was shown. The male and female bodies were electronically blurred, although there was no doubt that they were naked. Colgate’s face was also partially obscured, except for a few brief seconds during which no one would mistake him for someone else.
He was on the first day of a two-day campaign swing through the South when the tape first aired. He immediately canceled his few remaining appearances and flew back to Washington on a private jet, going directly to a suite in the Willard. Facing Deborah at that moment was too painful to contemplate. He knew, of course, that he was only postponing the inevitable, but felt he needed time to collect his thoughts in preparation for what was certain to be a nasty confrontation.
He gathered around him some of his top staff, but they had little to do. He secluded himself in the suite’s bedroom for most of his first day back, leaving them to chatter with one another in hushed tones about what this meant to his candidacy—and by extension, their jobs.
He summoned the courage to call Deborah late in the afternoon but was told by their housekeeper of many years that Mrs. Colgate wasn’t taking any calls.
“This is her husband, damn it!” Colgate exploded. “I’m not the press.”
He was put on hold until the housekeeper returned with the message, “I am so sorry, sir, but Mrs. Colgate—”
He slammed down the phone.
He had better luck reaching Rollins on the attorney’s cell phone.
“Have you seen it?” Colgate asked.
“No, but I’m told it’s on some website.”
“I’m at the Willard with the staff. I need you here, Jerry.”
Rollins’s hesitancy wasn’t lost on Colgate. “I’ll be free by six,” he finally said. “I’ll come then.”
Rollins arrived on time. Food was sent up to the suite, and the staff engaged in a spirited discussion of how to best combat the release of the tape. Rollins took part in the brainstorming but his heart wasn’t in it. He wanted to be somewhere else far away from this blaze that he’d ignited.
He’d worked hard since the day he turned over the tapes to Ziegler, to excuse his actions to himself. What was a man to do? His daughter’s life was at stake. That trumped anything and everything. There were times when he considered admitting to Colgate that he’d been behind the release of the tapes to Pyle’s people. After all, he’d bought those tapes from the rogue cop named Hatcher to protect Colgate and his candidacy, and had taken comfort in the fact that his actions were well meaning. He’d intended to destroy them from the moment they came into his possession but had never gotten around to it. Or had he wanted, at some psychological level, to keep them? Shades of Nixon and the eighteen-minute tape. Once Samantha had disappeared, though, all bets were off. How could any thinking, caring person question his decision?
Colgate listened to the variety of suggestions offered by the staff. When the ideas had been exhausted, he said, “Facing it head-on is the only way.” He turned to Rollins. “You agree, Jerry?”
Rollins nodded. “I see no other approach,” he said.
Most of the staff eventually drifted from the hotel, leaving Colgate, Rollins, and a press aide to field calls from media that had tracked down the candidate. Colgate and Rollins went into the bedroom and closed the door.
“I’ve been trying to reach Deb. She’s laying low. Can’t blame her. I’m going to the house. I want you to come with me.”
“I won’t do that, Bob.”
“I don’t believe I’m hearing this.”
“This is between you and Deb,” Rollins said. “There’s no role I can play that would possibly help.”
“I need a buffer, Jerry. Deb has always respected you. You two have been close for a long time.”
Rollins read more into that statement than Colgate intended.
“No,” Rollins said. “You