The President's Daughter - Mariah Stewart [93]
“Simon, I wasn’t expecting—” Norton stood in his doorway, his pipe suspended halfway to his lips, his eyes fixed on Dina, who, at that moment, was standing a foot behind Simon.
The smile froze on Norton’s face. “Holy Mother . . .”
“Philip Norton, meet Dina McDermott,” Simon said brusquely. “Dina, this is Dr. Philip Norton. He’s an old friend of the family.”
Norton simply stared at the young woman who stood on his front steps.
“My dear, you’ll have to forgive me. You look so much like . . .” He stopped, glanced questioningly at Simon.
“Yes, she knows.” Simon nodded.
“You look so much like your mother,” Norton told Dina.
“I’ve been hearing a lot of that lately.”
“I want the tape, Philip,” Simon said angrily.
“The tape?”
“Please don’t insult me. Just give it back to me, and we’ll be on our way—”
“Are you referring to the tape you made of Miles—”
“You know exactly what tape I’m referring to. I want it back. The secret is out, Philip. She’s standing right in front of you.”
“I didn’t steal your tape, Simon.”
“No one else knew about it.”
“Simon . . . Dina, come in. Please, don’t let’s stand in an open doorway discussing this; you never know who is walking by. . . .” Norton stepped back to permit them entrance, then closed the door behind him. “Now, come in and sit down and we’ll—”
“This isn’t a social call. All I want is the tape.”
“Simon, I don’t have your tape,” Norton said calmly. “Which I’m assuming has been stolen—”
“You know that it has.”
“You’ve told me what’s on it. Why would I steal it?”
“So that I wouldn’t have proof of the affair between Blythe and Hayward. So that no one could prove it . . .”
“To what end?” Norton looked mildly amused.
“Maybe so that the story won’t come out and overshadow Graham Junior’s candidacy.”
“These days, a story about a presidential affair might be considered little more than a sex scandal, tabloid fodder. Besides, the proof of the affair is standing right next to you.” Norton gestured in Dina’s direction. “If in fact hard proof were needed, DNA is quite conclusive.”
“Then why take the tape if not to cover up the fact of Dina’s existence?”
“Simon, lately you’ve accused me of a lot of things. Now you’re accusing me of breaking and entering. I would think your energy would best be spent trying to figure out who has your tape.”
“Who did you tell about it?”
“No one. I swear, I’ve spoken to no one about it.”
“Then why would someone break into my house?”
“What else was stolen?”
“My laptop.”
“Were there disks in it?”
Simon nodded slowly. “Disks with notes . . .”
“Notes about . . . ?”
“Blythe. Dina. Hayward’s desire to walk away from his family as well as his office . . .”
“And was the tape marked?”
“Oh, couldn’t have been more clearly marked.” Simon slumped back against the doorjamb. “ ‘Interview with Miles Kendall.’ Think that was clear enough?”
“I swear to you that I have told no one about the tape, so that means that outside of this room, no one knew about it.”
“You think someone broke into my house looking for something but not knowing what they would find?”
“I think it’s quite reasonable to think that someone would believe that a reporter would keep notes if he was tracking an important story. I don’t think someone knew. I think someone may have suspected. I’d bet my life that no one could have guessed that you’d have taped Miles Kendall’s conversations, or what was on that tape.” Norton grimaced. “And depending on who hears the tape, someone is going to get quite a surprise, I suspect, when they play it through.”
Simon jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and stared at Norton. “Philip, several nights ago, someone tried to run Dina down. Someone driving a dark van that jumped the curb and literally chased her up onto a neighbor’s lawn. Any thoughts on who that might have been?”
“Dear God . . .” Norton sat on the arm of the love seat just inside the door. Simon and Dina remained in the hall. “And you’re all right?”
Dina nodded.
“I don’t suppose you could describe the vehicle or the driver?”
“No.”
“Who else knew about