Rich lombardi slipped into the driver’s seat of his Porsche. All in all, things hadn’t worked out too badly. The Senator hadn’t gotten the Veep, but that was okay. This cracker wouldn’t last more than one term and then they’d have a crack at the number-one slot. And Allie was tucked away in a rubber room somewhere and couldn’t shoot off her mouth. He leaned back into the seat and was about to start the engine when he heard that flicking sound again, that rubbing. But it was only for a split second, because something cold and sharp was pressing into his neck.
“You know what I read in the papers this morning?” Joe Graham said. “I read they’re training monkeys to help out quadriplegics, you know, guys who can’t move their arms or legs? Yeah, these monkeys run all around their apartment and bring them things. Books, food, beer… you want one of those monkeys, Richie? Because if I press just a little right here… you’ll need a monkey to make your calls to London for you.”
“Don’t.”
“You set my kid up, didn’t you?”
“No, I-”
The knife pricked his flesh.
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“Afraid she’d talk.”
“About what?”
He hesitated. Then he felt a trickle of blood running down his neck.
“Things we did.”
Was there anyone who wasn’t tapping that kid? Graham thought.
“That was worth Neal getting killed?”
“I didn’t think they’d kill him.”
“Allie going down the tubes?”
“She was there already.”
“You’re scum, you know that?”
Lombardi was trembling so hard, Graham was afraid he’d cut him accidentally.
“Put both hands on the wheel. Lean forward. Close your eyes.” Lombardi started to cry as he did what he was told. Graham slipped out the passenger door and came around to the driver’s window.
“Take a message to your boss. From Kitteredge. From me. When this term is up, he packs it in. He quits. He also doesn’t fight this divorce. Tell him. And then you resign. You got that, hotshot? We see you anywhere near a politician again, you’re on a waiting list for one of those monkeys.”
He stepped away from the Porsche and into the waiting car. “You still want a piece of him?” he asked Levine.
Ed shook his head in disgust. “Not worth it.”
“Right.”
“I can’t believe Neal didn’t trust me,” Ed said as they were driving away. “Pisses me off.”
“Neal doesn’t trust a lot of people.”
“You gonna call him? Tell him he can come home?”
“No. Let’s leave him be for a while.”
Levine pulled the car out onto the street.
I’ll miss the little bastard, though, Graham thought.