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“I noticed.”
“Yeah, well, between you and me, politics sucks.”
“I noticed that, too.” Monty studied Charlie’s expression. His lids were hooded and he was focusing on his lunch. But his wheels were definitely turning. He was wrestling with something.
“Anything you want to tell me?” Monty inquired.
Charlie’s chin came up. “Just a question. An off-the-record question.”
“Shoot.”
“I know who pulls my strings. On this investigation, who’s pulling yours—Morgan, or Arthur Shore?”
“First of all, no one pulls my strings—ever. That’s why I left the system. But if you’re asking who I’m working for, it’s Morgan. The congressman’s added leverage in getting things done. Why?”
“Is he privy to everything you and I discuss?”
“Not if I don’t want him to be. At least not from my end. I can’t vouch for what your boss tells him.”
“Yeah. He and the D.A. are tight. That’s part of why I’m walking on eggshells.”
Evidently, Monty’s other agenda had found him. “You don’t trust Arthur?”
Charlie rubbed his forehead. “Politically? I think he’s a hell of a congressman. He’s done great things for New York.”
“You helped get him elected. My rundown indicated that you worked on his political campaign.”
“For state assembly, yes.” Charlie polished off his soup. “We didn’t part on the best of terms. Then again, I’m sure your rundown mentioned that, too.”
“Yup.” Monty waited, biding his time.
“Our differences weren’t professional. They were personal. I have a kid sister. It was the summer before her freshman year in college when I worked for the Shore campaign. I was heading into my final year at law school. I convinced Trish to pitch in. It didn’t take long for her to start idolizing Arthur Shore. She and every other campaign groupie in the place. Trish began working late, stuffing envelopes for mailings. One night I showed up early to pick her up. She was in Shore’s office with him, alone and half-naked.”
Charlie blew out an angry breath. “The guy was in his thirties, married, with a kid. Trish was eighteen, barely out of high school, and impressionable.”
Monty was disgusted, but far from surprised. This was classic Arthur Shore. “You must have been ripping mad. What did you do?”
“To Shore? Nothing. If I started throwing around phrases like ‘sexual harassment,’ I’d be pumping gas instead of prosecuting criminals. I was a law school student. He was an assemblyman. He was also corporate counsel to a powerful real estate development company—one run by his father-in-law—with enough resources to squash me. So I did what I could. I wrapped Trish’s coat around her and dragged her out of there. We never went back.”
“And now?”
“Now nothing. Shore’s a congressman; I’m an A.D.A. Our paths don’t cross. He called me when the Winter cases were reopened and asked me to use my influence to get you what you needed. I agreed. I certainly didn’t bring up Trish, and he didn’t ask about her.”
“Did you ever fill Jack in on this incident? It still had to be pretty fresh in your mind when you came to work here. And Jack and Arthur were good friends.”
“Lara and Elyse were good friends,” Charlie corrected. “Jack and Arthur socialized by default. I won’t say Jack didn’t respect Arthur’s abilities; he did. But their morals were day and night. I didn’t need to fill Jack in on my story. There were many others like it.” A long pause. “Sometimes I think that’s what Jack and Lara were arguing about. I could be all wet, but I think Jack felt Elyse should be told what her husband was doing. Lara disagreed.”
“You heard her say that?”
“I heard her say Elyse knew everything she needed to. That could have applied to Arthur’s infidelity, or to something completely unrelated.”
“You didn’t mention any of this to me the other day.”
“I chose not to. It’s pure speculation on my part, and it could bite me in the ass big-time.”
“If I opened my mouth,” Monty surmised aloud. “Well, I won’t. This conversation remains between us. I am glad you told me, though. It explains a few things.” A thoughtful silence. “Denton, you can punch me out if you want to, but is there any chance your sister changed her mind and had that fling with Arthur? Maybe not then, but a few years later?”
“No.” A one-word, clipped reply.
