Murder Inside the Beltway - Margaret Truman [13]
FIVE
That morning, Deborah Colgate was escorted onto the Boeing 757 jet ahead of other passengers. She occupied the window seat in the front row of first class. The aisle seat had also been booked for her and would remain vacant for the duration of the flight from San Francisco to Washington Dulles International Airport. The two Secret Service agents assigned to her for this trip took up positions in the aisle seat across from her, and on the aisle in the row behind.
The senior flight attendant who’d gotten her settled asked if she wanted something to drink.
“Orange juice would be fine,” Deborah replied.
She put on a set of earphones attached to her iPod, sipped her juice, placed the empty glass on her tray, and closed her eyes. It had been a hectic week; but then again, every week was hectic since her husband, Robert, had won his party’s primary and was now running for president against the incumbent.
Deciding to run against Burton Pyle had come easily to Bob Colgate. He’d had his eye on the White House since first entering politics as a Maryland state legislator, advancing through the ranks to become the majority leader of the state senate, and then going on to the governorship. When his four-year term expired, he declined to seek reelection, instead quietly focusing on an eventual run for the White House, putting together a formidable team and calling in his chips, along with filling his campaign coffers with plenty of cash before tossing his hat into the crowded primary.
He placed second in the Iowa caucuses and rolled to wins in New Hampshire and South Carolina. With those victories under his belt, the Colgate steamroller dominated the field in subsequent primaries, culminating in a rousing acceptance speech at his party’s convention that filled the faithful with confidence that “Handsome Bob” would crush the sitting president, whose administration was rife with scandal, military misadventures, diplomatic gaffes, and fiscal irresponsibility. That Colgate had chosen a woman as his running mate, Ohio Senator Maureen McDowell, only added to the ticket’s appeal, a melding of north and south, male and female, experience in managing a state and navigating Congress.
What a team!
Couldn’t miss!
Or could it?
The campaign had become ugly. Deborah Colgate’s husband’s reputation as a ladies’ man and serial adulterer had been kept front-and-center by Pyle’s people. The Pyle reelection team was headed by the president’s longtime political guru, Kevin Ziegler. Ziegler had masterminded Pyle’s political climb from his earliest days as the son of a wealthy Florida businessman who’d made his fortunes in shipbuilding, an international food trading company, and as owner of two professional sports franchises. Burton had shown little interest in following in his father’s business footsteps, and dabbled in various pursuits until someone suggested he run for state office. He won handily, outspending his opponent tenfold, and by following the instructions at every turn offered by his campaign manager, Ziegler, with whom he’d become friendly.
Ziegler had been enthralled by politics since his teen years, and graduated at the top of his class as an undergraduate in political science at the University of Miami. He achieved the same ranking when earning his MBA and Ph.D in the same discipline at the University of Chicago. He lived and breathed politics, although his interest was not in holding elected office. For him, the power didn’t rest with elected officials. The power, the real power, was vested in those behind the throne who pulled the strings and achieved their goals through officeholders. It seemed to Ziegler that he had in Pyle the perfect specimen—and he viewed him in those terms—to put into play what had become by now his keenly honed views of how the nation, and the world, should be, and could be reshaped. Pyle was personable and easygoing, a comfortable glad-hander, the sort of candidate voters might enjoy having a beer with, or joining in a friendly softball game. He wasn’t stupid, but lacked intellectual curiosity,