Washington Deceased by Michael Bowen Page B

lobbyist knew that. But I knew that Carepac was giving campaign contributions to senators who were willing to support the bill. I knew that no one was giving campaign contributions to senators who opposed the bill. The lobbyist knew that I knew these things.”
    â€œYou’re suggesting that the outcome of your deliberations on the merits of this measure was foreordained.”
    â€œExactly. I told her I was a fervent believer in professionalizing the nurses’ calling and that I would therefore support the bill. The next week, my campaign committee received a check.”
    â€œThus illustrating—what, precisely?”
    â€œYou see, Dick, that wasn’t a bribe. That’s not the kind of thing I got sent to prison for. That was democracy in action. That was business as usual.”
    â€œI do see, yes.”
    â€œThat kind of thing was absolutely par for the course when the annual sugar import quotas were set. No one made any bones about it. That’s what I know about. I could give them chapter and verse on that until they were tired of listening to me.”
    â€œBut, if I catch your meaning, that couldn’t be what they’re interested in, because it’s open, notorious and apparently legal.
    â€œIt’s even subtler than that,” Gardner insisted. “How could they be looking for anything? How could there be anything for them to look for? How can you possibly have corruption when you have political action committees? What’s the point? Why bribe someone under the table when you can bid for his vote on the open market?”
    â€œThat’s a persuasive if depressingly cynical observation.”
    â€œI don’t mean it to sound cynical. I’m just saying if there was some importer that felt he had to buy some votes, and some senators who were capable of being bought, no one had to pass around hundred dollar bills in white envelopes. You just get the right PAC man to drop the right hint. Everyone knows that the sugar quotas get set in a sixteen-hour marathon committee session where everybody gives something and everybody takes something and there’s no way in the world to say any particular quota should’ve been a couple of hundred tons more or a couple of hundred less. Bribery would be superfluous.”
    â€œSo your conclusion is that the U.S. Attorney’s office back home was just taking a shot in the dark. They assumed that there must be something, and they hoped that you could be pressured or bluffed into providing a lead they could work with, even though they really had no specific notion of what they were looking for.”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œWell,” Michaelson said, “it’s not a theory I’d reject out of hand. I’ll make some phone calls and see what I can find out. If it’s just a self-important political hack trying to make mischief, I should be able to track down someone who can sort it out.”
    â€œI appreciate that, Dick. I really do.”
    â€œI’m happy to do it.”
    â€œThere’s something else,” Gardner said then.
    â€œYes. Wendy said that you thought you might be at risk in some way. Physical risk.”
    â€œThat’s right. I—” Gardner stopped abruptly and began striding toward the door. “Look. Do you mind if we get out of here for a bit, go out and talk on the lawn?”
    â€œLead the way,” Michaelson said.
    â€œI know what you’re thinking,” Gardner said, glancing over his shoulder as he stepped through his door. “This isn’t a prison, it’s a country club, and it’s a little bit priggish to act claustrophobic about it.”
    â€œNot—” Michaelson began.
    â€œI don’t blame you. All I can say is, I don’t care what it looks like from the outside, it’s still a prison. It’s not a country club. If I get turned down for parole in two months, I have to wait at least six months