Chapter 9
Eddie
I’d often heard being the governor of a major US state is one of the hardest jobs in the country.
They should try working as a defense attorney in Manhattan.
Or waiting tables for twelve hours in one of the busiest cities in the world.
I didn’t buy the rhetoric.
Neither did Harry.
We sat on a red leather bench at the end of a long marble hallway in the governor’s mansion.
The thick double doors to our right led to the reception area, and then the grand offices of Governor Fairfax Coleridge III.
To name even one kid Fairfax seemed unfortunate to me.
To do it twice looked like bad luck, but three times begins to look like carelessness, as a famous Irishman once said.
Coleridge’s administration was running out of excuses too.
A state with this much wealth and deprivation wasn’t easy to manage.
Nothing like a double shift waiting a large section of tables in a busy restaurant, but no walk in the park.
The fact that we were here at all was entirely down to Harry Ford. Retired judges were not the class of people that could be ignored by city or state officials. Not even when they came out of retirement to join disreputable criminal defense firms.
‘How do you want to play this?’ asked Harry, keeping his voice low.
‘He’s a career politician and a dedicated public servant. There’s really only one way to play it.’
Harry nodded, said, ‘Alright, dirty it is.’
The double doors opened beside us and a millennial in a suit two sizes too small for him said the governor would see us now.
We went through the ornate reception area and another set of oak double doors to a large office.
Crimson carpet, oak-paneled walls, two large windows, a desk that looked like it was for somebody more important than Fairfax Coleridge III – who sat behind it in pinstriped pants and red braces hanging off the shoulder of his white silk shirt.
Binders, documents, pens and a laptop spread out over the desk.
Fairfax didn’t get up, or even raise his eyes from the page in front of him as we walked in.
Harry and I stood behind two leather chairs that faced the governor’s desk.
I grabbed one, began to pull it out so I could sit down, but Harry touched my arm. I looked at him and he shook his head. I hated this bullshit. Power had its own etiquette in this city. You had to know how to play nice and kiss the ring.
After ten seconds of silence, Fairfax put aside the document, raised his head and leaned back in his chair.
‘Please,’ he said, gesturing that we should take a seat.
Harry and I sat down in front of him as he smiled and laced his fingers together over his stomach.
‘How’s retirement treating you, Harry?’
‘I’m busier than ever. That’s why I’m here. I take it you know my colleague, Eddie Flynn?’
His gaze fell on me, the fake smile remained frozen on his face.
‘Only by reputation. Nice to meet you, Eddie. So what can I do for you gentlemen?’
Now this was the tricky part. The murder of Molly Green was headline news.
But it was scant on the details and no suspects had been formally identified.
The media were waiting, patiently, for any hint that NYPD were treating the Vanderpools as suspects.
When I say media, I mean only certain newspapers, websites and TV channels.
Most of the big news outlets were controlled by Julian Vanderpool, and I guessed he would be damned if his son was ever going to get any negative headlines from one of his puppets.
I couldn’t tell Fairfax we were representing Vanessa, nor could I say we were representing someone in the family.
I had to keep it a little vague. All the same, I had no doubt Fairfax knew exactly what was happening in the investigation.
We just had to dance around each other for a few rounds before someone threw a hard right hook.
‘Patrick Vanderpool is gearing up to challenge you,’ I said. ‘I’m sure you’ve done your homework. We’re representing certain interests at the moment, and we don’t want Patrick’s political ambitions to put a target on his wife’s back.’
‘I see. You think I can just call up the police commissioner and get Vanessa, or even Patrick, arrested for murder? Is that right? You think I’d use my office for political gain?’
‘Drop the bullshit,’ said Harry. ‘You’d sell your grandmother if you thought it would help you stay in office.’
The fake smile widened into something more genuine as he said, ‘How do you think I got elected in the first place? Don’t worry. I’m all out of grandmas, Harry.’
‘If you come after the Vanderpools, it will look like a political prosecution,’ said Harry. ‘What’s that fake word they use? Lawfare?’
‘I’ve asked the mayor and the commissioner to keep me informed on the progress of the investigation, but I can assure you, I have no input into the case.’
‘Because you’ve got a whole other pile of dirt you can throw – is that right?’ I asked.
‘Listen,’ said Fairfax, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table, ‘with the money Pat Vanderpool can call upon for political donations, I gotta be willing to protect myself. In this day and age, being convicted of a crime is no guarantee of political jail. Not in this country. And I’m not interested in Vanderpool painting himself as the victim of a political witch hunt.
That will only boost his poll numbers with his base.
Plus, his father’s media company . . . I’m not worried so much about newspapers any more – it’s the troll farms.’
‘Troll farms?’ asked Harry.
‘He posts an article online. Within seconds it’s on TikTok, Instagram, X, Facebook, posted by thousands of trolls, some real influencers but mostly amplified by bots.
It’s a tsunami of shit. Like all nuclear threats, the best way of stopping it is to have your own warhead and point it at the most vulnerable person.
I don’t have one yet, but I may be close. ’
‘If you got this missile, where would you aim it?’ I asked.
‘Patrick, of course. Look, I’m not stupid.
I know Buchanan and Duff look after the Vanderpools, and with the greatest of respect, you’re no Rex Buchanan, Eddie.
So I’m guessing they’ve farmed Vanessa out to you.
Be careful. What’s in your client’s best interests and what’s in Patrick’s best interests may be very different. ’
‘Which is why we’re here,’ I said. ‘If there’s anything you know about her husband that could help protect her, or anything about her that might damage her defense, then I need to know.’
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping the desk as he looked at each of us in turn and then nodded his head, gently. It looked like we had an understanding.
‘I’ve got some of the best PI firms in the city working for me.
They looked into Patrick, but got very little, apart from one thing.
I have to be very careful about how I say this, because not all of this information came to me through entirely legal means.
The private investigators hit a brick wall with this, but they all suspected there was more to discover.
You’ve got Bloch working for you. If I sent you in the right direction, and you found something explosive that I could put in a warhead and aim it at Patrick, would you be willing to share that information in the spirit of mutual co-operation? ’
‘As long as you stay away from my grandma, I might be willing,’ I said.
He laughed, said, ‘Teresa Chase. That’s all I can give you. There’s something there, but I can’t say any more. Not that you need any more. The name will lead Bloch down the right path, but she’ll need to work fast. There’s something else you should know, and it didn’t come from me.’
He checked his watch, then said, ‘In about thirty minutes, homicide detectives are going to arrest Vanessa Vanderpool for the murder of Molly Green.’