LEONARD WAS GLAD HE’D DUMPED HIS STOCK IN ALL THE MAJOR companies producing cold remedies last year. The job losses were in the thousands, and unemployment spiked dramatically. The ten-billion-dollar industry had practically dried up overnight thanks to the blazing success of the miraculous new cold vaccine, which was being shown to be 95 percent effective. And Leonard was grateful that he’d gotten the tip to buy stock in Licentia Labs right before the news of the vaccine broke.
Of course the information hadn’t come to him for free. He’d had to agree to cover the full cost of the vaccine in all Jefferson’s insurance plans, even the low-cost ones. It may have lost the company some money up front, but in the long run, they’d save millions on all those folks who would have ended up with bronchitis and other complications from the cold.
He now had other things to worry about, though, like the fact that he had at best sixty days, at worst thirty, until the Supreme Court decision was handed down. If Jefferson lost, it would cost them billions. And compromising a Supreme Court justice had been harder than he’d anticipated. Leonard was used to taking people down. One of the reasons that Brody Hamilton now occupied the second-highest office in the land was because Leonard had placed skeletons in the closets of his competitors.
But the justices were a different story. Of the five whose votes he doubted, he’d already taken his shot at two. Paranoia ran deep these days, between the #MeToo movement and the ease with which photos and videos were captured. People were scared shitless of being caught doing something wrong. The good old days of picking up a prostitute on the spur of the moment were gone—at least among savvy, high-profile men. He’d dug into all five of the justices’ pasts, but of course, they’d been thoroughly vetted already and he was unable to find anything. Three men. Two women. He always started with the men; women were so much harder to corrupt. Sex, drugs, bribes—no takers so far. Justice Landon, who’d been seated just last year, was a good-looking man of only fifty-five with a wife who had a face for radio. There was no way this guy didn’t get a little extra on the side. Leonard decided that a call girl wouldn’t do. No, he’d need someone genuine to tempt Justice Landon. Someone like Sissy, who by now would do anything Leonard asked of her.
When he arrived at her apartment to prep her for her mission, she buzzed him in immediately, and he groaned when he saw the out-of-order sign on the elevator. Why did she live in this dump anyway? If he had had plans to keep her around longer, he would have moved her somewhere else, but he didn’t see the need for it. He was out of breath after walking up the three flights of stairs and he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. It was hard to believe there’d been a time when he ran marathons, he thought wryly.
She opened the door with a broad smile.
“What’s the hell’s wrong with the elevator this time?”
“Sorry, honey. It just happened this morning. Come in.”
He’d met Sissy a few months ago at an upscale and very private gentleman’s club. He liked dating strippers, but he picked only the cream of the crop, those who were young and intelligent and were using their talents to put themselves through school. He’d start by acting fatherly and concerned, giving them big tips and asking them about their college courses. He’d groom them for a couple of weeks, until they began to look forward to seeing him. Then he would pretend that he was falling for them and start giving them ridiculously large tips. They thought they had him right where they wanted him, but all the while he was playing them. He’d abruptly switch tactics and ignore them, giving his attention to another girl. Then they’d try to win him back and he’d let them eventually. It always culminated in their seducing him, kicking off a new affair. Sissy was completely at his beck and call by now.
Looking at Sissy now in the outfit he’d bought her, a fitted black sequin cocktail dress with a V neckline and plunging back, he knew that Landon wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off her. Tonight was the justice’s quarterly boys’ night out with his pals from Dartmouth. They always met in New York on a Saturday at the Dead Rabbit, had dinner at Benjamin Steakhouse, and ended the evening with cocktails at Augustine. That’s where Sissy would come in, but Leonard wasn’t taking any chances. If Landon didn’t take the bait, Sissy would drop Rohypnol in his drink and whisk him up to her suite at the Beekman. There, she’d take plenty of sexy selfies of the two of them in compromising positions. And she’d been instructed to make sure that they were very explicit pictures. But just in case that didn’t prove to be enough to convince him to vote the right way, Sissy’s thirteen-year-old sister, Clara, would also stop by for a photo shoot with him after he’d been roofied. While adultery was one thing, Landon would do anything to avoid being labeled a pedophile and have his life ruined. Clara was happy to do it in exchange for a thousand dollars in crisp one-hundred-dollar bills—the money would come in handy for her oxy habit.
And his plan solved another of his problems. After Sissy had given him all the evidence, he’d tell her he wanted nothing to do with her now that she’d slept with another man. But for now, he just smiled at her. “You look amazing, sweetheart. There’s no way he’ll be able to look away.”
She gave him a grateful smile. “You think?”
“I’m sure.”
“I’m a little nervous. I mean, he is a Supreme Court justice.”
Leonard shook his head. “Pretend you don’t know that. No one recognizes them. He’ll be flattered that a sexy young woman is paying attention to him. Pretend you don’t even recognize his name. Where’s Clara?”
“My stepfather’s dropping her off soon. We’ll catch an eight o’clock train into the city.”
“Okay. But remember, no texts or calls. We’ll meet on Monday. Make sure nothing goes wrong.”
She walked over to him and put her arms around his neck, leaning in close to him. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it all under control. After tonight, he won’t be able to blackmail you anymore. He’ll have to destroy the pictures of him and your wife.”
He kissed her long and hard, savoring this last kiss. “I don’t know what I would do without you. It would destroy my girls if they knew their mother had done those vile things with him,” he lied.
She shook her head. “It’s disgusting. He has no right to be on the Supreme Court.”
“Well, after this he won’t be.”
She bit her lip. “Are you sure I really have to do, you know, everything with him? Can’t I just make it look like we did?”
Leonard said, “No. It has to be authentic. We can’t have him claiming it’s been Photoshopped or faked somehow. I know it’s asking a lot, but it’s the only way.”
“What if he won’t do it? If he’s not interested in me?”
“Then you drug him with the Rohypnol, have your thirteen-year-old sister get naked next to him, and take lots of pictures.” Did he have to spell everything out?
“After this is all behind us, you’ll tell your wife that you’re leaving, right? We’ll be together?”
“Absolutely. All right. I’m going to go now. Remember, I believe in you.”
“I love you,” she called out as he walked to the door.
He stopped and turned to look at her. “I love you too. So much.”
As he walked down the stairs and out the door, he muttered, “Good riddance to bad trash,” and got into his BMW. How he loved tying up loose ends.