Murder on K Street - Margaret Truman [75]
He waited until Polly had turned to pick up her soda to say, “Polly, I am going to be leaving Marshalk.”
“Really? When did you make that decision?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Happy?”
“No. Why should I be? Proud? I suppose so. Have you told Daddy?”
“No, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it until I’ve had a chance to.”
She pressed her finger to her lips and said with exaggerated gravity, “My lips are sealed.” Her eyes opened wide. “He will not be happy,” she said.
“It’s important that I be happy.”
“You bet. What does the missus say?”
“I haven’t told Alex.”
“Boy, I’d love to be there when you do. There go her plans to redo the kitchen again.”
“Lay off Alex, okay?”
“Whatever you say, big brother.” She took in her surroundings, leaned close to him, and asked, “Do you think Daddy had Mom killed?”
“Jesus, Polly, how can you even think such a thing?”
“They were getting a divorce, you know.”
“They were?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I—I heard something.”
“And you know what that would do to Daddy’s political future.”
“I don’t want to hear this, Polly, this nonsense about Dad killing Mom.”
“You may not want to hear it, Neil, but you can’t just dismiss it out of hand.”
He felt a rush of heat to his face and wondered if he had reddened. “Please, Polly,” he said, “this isn’t the time. Our mother has just been murdered. We have to stick together as a family and honor her by our actions.”
“For Daddy’s sake?”
“No, damn it, for her sake.” He realized his voice had risen, and he looked around to see whether anyone had reacted. No one appeared to have. She reached for her glass, but he grabbed her hand en route. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, “who killed Mom. That’s for the police to determine. It’s our responsibility to stand tall and—”
“Stand tall?” she mimicked. “When have you ever stood tall, Neil?”
He released her hand and sat back.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said that. I know it hasn’t been easy being involved with Daddy. He’s overbearing, my way or the highway. That’s why I got as far away as I could, as soon as I could.” She paused as she saw his eyes become moist. “I love you, Neil. I just wish…”
“I’d like to leave,” he said, motioning for a check.
He drove her to the Hotel George and pulled up in front.
“You’re really leaving Marshalk?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m going to give Phil Marshalk my notice. I have to be at a going-away party tonight. Maybe I can corner him there and break the news. Dad is leaving tomorrow for Chicago. Phil is going with him. As soon as I tell Marshalk I’m leaving, I’ll get hold of Dad and tell him, too.”
“Everything will turn out okay,” she said, and kissed his cheek.
“I hope so, Polly. I hope so.”
Simmons watched her skip into the hotel. Then he drove to Marshalk’s headquarters. Jonell Marbury intercepted him on his way to his office. “Got a minute, Neil?” Marbury asked.
“Sure.”
Marbury closed the door behind them.
“What’s going on?” Marbury asked.
“About what?”
“About this place, Neil. Marshalk and Parish have turned it into an armed camp. You’d think we were some Defense Department think tank with top-secret information about where the next war will be.”
Simmons shrugged and waved his hand. “I don’t know, Jonell. I’m just the president.”
“You’ve heard the rumors.”
“Which ones?”
“About Justice investigating us.”
Simmons nodded.
“You must know something about it, Neil.” Marbury got up from his chair, leaned on Simmons’s desk, and said, “I’ve even heard it might involve money laundering for the mob.”
“Just a rumor, Jonell.”
Marbury sat again. “I’m getting really worried, Neil. I had a conversation with Camelia the other day. She