Albany, New York
The aide, who looked like a blond Michael J. Fox, barely stopped to knock before barging into the room, papers fluttering in his agitated hand. Governor Lucius Alfonso, who was a stickler for protocol, glared over the tops of his half-glasses. His campaign manager, Michael O’Malley, was less restrained. “This isn’t a college dormitory, Dobbs. You can’t barge in here whenever you get a neat idea. We’re not mommy and daddy, who think everything you do is cute.” He leaned back in his chair, tented his thick fingers over a barrel chest, and smiled maliciously. “So, to what do we owe this interruption?” O’Malley was pale skinned and rusty-haired, with a pugnacious jaw and spirit.
Kevin Dobbs hesitated, his face mottled pink with embarrassment. He’d been so eager to deliver this stunning news that he’d forgotten to bring copies. Now he didn’t know whether to hand the papers to his boss or to the Governor. O’Malley settled the question by holding out an impatient hand. “Come on, Dobbs. Shit or get off the pot, eh?”
Dobbs gave up the papers and stepped backward, but he didn’t leave the room. He waited while O’Malley scanned the papers, dancing slightly from foot to foot. O’Malley’s language had deepened the flush on his skin.
O’Malley finished the letter, smiled triumphantly, and passed it to the Governor. It was written in pencil on white lined paper. Primitive, illiterate, and potentially dynamite. The Governor read it and smiled broadly. “Interruption forgiven, Dobbs,” he said. “Sometimes I think the good guy is on our side. Where did you get this?”
“From one of the volunteers at campaign headquarters who was handling mail.”
“Do you have his name?” O’Malley interrupted.
“Her name, sir. Of course.”
“Who else has seen it?”
“Only two other people, sir. She took it to her supervisor, who brought it to Viktor. Viktor told me I’d better bring it to you right away.”
“Viktor was right, Dobbs. Did you read it?”
Dobbs nodded.
“You have the envelope?”
“The envelope?” Dobbs looked blank.
“Envelope,” O’Malley said sharply. “Those things letters come in? With the address and the postmark and maybe a return address?”
The Governor, ignoring this exchange, was rereading the letter.
Dobbs swayed on his feet like he was dodging a blow. “Sorry, sir. I never thought…”
“Gotta start thinking, Dobbs, you wanna get anywhere in this business. Where’d you go to law school, anyway? Manatee State? Thought you were one of those Harvard boys, supposed to be so bright?”
“Oh, leave the boy alone, Mike. He’ll go back and search through the trash until he finds it. In fact, Kevin, maybe you should do that right now, before someone dumps their coffee or the dregs of a salad?” He waved the letter at Dobbs. “Better take a copy of this so you can spot the handwriting… we don’t want to take a chance on losing it, do we?”
Dobbs wanted to stay and be part of the excitement but he hadn’t gone to Manatee State and was smart enough to know he’d worn out his welcome. He ducked his head and left. As soon as his curious ears were out of range, O’Malley picked up the phone and called Viktor and Captain Van Allen, the Governor’s state police liaison. Then the candidate and his campaign manager exchanged smiles. “So,” the Governor said, “looks like Senator Jim Lily White Buxton has a skeleton in his closet after all. Now all we have to do is find this woman.”
O’Malley reread the letter.
Dear Governor Alfonso,
I am very pleased that you are run for President. Years ago I werked for that Jim Buxton and he was not a nice man. He didn’t paid me fare wages or anything akshully it was his wife who didn’t want to pay and I was cleaning there house which was a real mess because she was pig and so were there kids. She is if you will excuse me for saying this a bitch with a capitol Bee. I wud not like a woman like that for being the first lady of this grate country of ours.
To get to the point of my letter. Back when that Jim Buxton was the torney general up here in Maine, there was a woman werked for him that he was having an affair with even though he was married. I know this from my sister who lived in the same place and she would see them going to this guy’s trailer who was a cop who werked for Buxton. They wud stay there for a couple hours and then come out and drive away. I don’t think that they were only working or maybe playing cards because my sister said she went over and listend and the bed was squeaking. I guess on acount of there having a good time. I am telling you this not to get the woman in trubble because she is a good woman and does a lot of good stuf for poor people like me, but I can’t stand that Buxton is talking about family values and how we have to werk on stronger families when he is like a pot calling a kettle black, isn’t he? Plus I’m sick of supporting those people on welfare when I am agood werking woman myself. And I don’t hold with cheating. If my husband cheated I wud shoot him.
Next time when you guys do a debate, ask that Jim Buxton what about this woman and see what he says. And good luck. I’m going to vote for you.
—Anonymus
The Governor laughed. “Our correspondent isn’t the brightest bulb, is she?”
“Her heart’s in the right place, though.”
By the end of the afternoon, Kevin Dobbs and a couple of New York state police detectives were on their way to Maine, assigned to dig up all the dirt they could on Senator Jim Buxton. On penalty of death, or at least dishonor, they were not to return until they’d learned the identity of Buxton’s mystery woman.