Читать книгу Capitol Punishment - Andrew Welsh-Huggins - Страница 15

6

“WELL, HELLO, SENATOR,” HERSHEY SAID. “Were your ears burning? We were just speechifying about you.”

“Yeah? What about?”

“The usual—your district, your taste in suits, your contributions from Midwest Testing. You know my colleague?” Hershey pulled me to his side. “Andy Hayes, meet Senator Ed Tillman.”

“You’re blocking my way,” Tillman said.

“Since we were just leaving, I could say the same about you,” Hershey replied. “But as long as we’re having a moment, any comment on the ethics board ruling on the Vegas trip?” A smart phone had magically appeared in the reporter’s right hand, and I could see it was already recording.

“I told you once, no comment.” He had short, brushed-back sandy hair in transition from blond to white, a full face that hinted at too many chicken dinners and not enough time on the treadmill, and a look of controlled anger in his eyes.

“Technically, that was your spokeswoman. What about you?”

“You heard me.”

“Seems like you got a pass from the board,” Hershey persisted. “They gave you spirit of the law, but not letter.”

“I said, no comment—”

“I mean, it would be good to know, good for the people of Ohio to know, whether you’re going to repay Midwest for that little jaunt.”

The space around us had gone quiet, like that funny pause in conversations at parties that folklore says is supposed to come at twenty minutes after the hour.

“I could have your pass to the Senate floor revoked,” Tillman said. “Harassing me like this.”

“Whoop-de-doo,” Hershey said, holding up his right forefinger and moving it in a circle. “Whole thing’s online now. I can watch you on my phone while I’m taking a dump. That is, if I want to bother.”

“How dare you.”

“I’m just trying to do my job.”

“Better enjoy it while it lasts.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“I heard you,” Hershey said, pushing the phone a little closer. “I’m just not sure I understood.”

“What I mean,” the senator said, lowering his voice, “is you should enjoy your job. Because if you write one more word about Midwest Testing, one single word more, you’re going to be sorry.”

“That’s your comment?”

“No. That was a threat. This is my comment: Go to hell. Put that on your goddamned website.”

The restaurant was now so quiet I could hear the clink of dishes and the chatter of conversation back in the kitchen.

“Go . . . to . . . hell,” Hershey said slowly. “OK, got it. Anything else, Senator?”

Tillman’s left eye twitched, and for just a moment I thought he was going to lose it. I braced myself, hoping to God I wasn’t going to earn my paycheck by restraining a state senator.

Instead, Tillman shouldered past us. “Out of my way,” he said.

“Good night,” Hershey said to his back. “And all the ships at sea.”