Political Science 101

Chapter Ten

A THICK HAZE of cigar smoke filled the room, as it often did. "This kid is going to run for the U.S. House in two years, and we need to keep that seat in D.C.," the man said through the haze, sipping his glass of brandy. He was a wealthy man, an educated man, a powerful man, and he wanted it to stay that way. But Jeb W. Larkin was not comfortable with this new Democrat who had somehow gotten himself elected to the Missouri State Legislature. He ran his hands through his salt-and-pepper hair, then stroked his jet-black beard, staring at his drink with his narrow eyes.

"There's no way Doyle will make it to the U.S. House," the man's companion said. "This is Missouri. There's no way this state puts a Democrat in the House." His voice slithered with casual and arrogant disbelief.

"I thought you took care of this," Larkin said, his frustration now showing in his tone.

"I did."

"You didn't!" yelled Larkin, sitting up in his chair quickly. He stood and began pacing the room where the two men were having their discussion. The den of Jeb Larkin's monstrous house was very old, very rustic, and very dark. The dark wood paneling on the walls seemed to absorb what little natural light shined in either of the two windows. But it was night — after 8PM — so the only light came from an ominous standing lamp in the corner of the room and a fire that burned steadily in the large Gothic fireplace; both light sources casting eerie shadows onto the ceiling, silhouetting the stuffed game heads of deer, elk, and even a bear, all positioned around the room.

The silence grew as Jeb paced, shooting momentary glances at his visitor, who in return only grew more uncomfortable.

"And what of Bradley?" Jeb asked, pausing his pacing.

"Mitch? Don't even worry about him," the man said, trying to sound as though there was no cause for concern.

"And last night?" Jeb asked pointedly.

"But he never went in to the party!" The man was pleading now. "He just sat at the bar. No one noticed him."

"You did," Jeb said sardonically.

"Don't worry, Jeb," the man said calmly. "I'll take care of Mitch."

"More than you already have?" Jeb shot back with an extra dose of sarcasm. He resumed his pacing of the room. "Mitchell Bradley is one of the most brilliant political minds I've ever come across," Larkin now said, almost somberly. "The man could get a mannequin elected if he had enough resources. The fact is," Larkin continued matter-of-factly, "if we lose this seat in the U.S. House of Representatives, a lot of votes in the House won't go our way. Jenkins is sitting in that seat right now, and we compensate him well to be sympathetic to our initiatives." Jeb shook his head in dismay. "If we get some wide-eyed Liberal Democrat in there, we may not just lose money, our whole enterprise could go under."

The man listened as he sat across from the pacing Jeb Larkin, listening to his diatribe. He knew that Larkin was a powerful man, and he had no interest in discovering how far that power reached, mostly because Larkin knew people even more powerful than himself.

"Are we clear?" Larkin asked.

"I've got it under control," the man replied.

"Are we clear?" Jeb said again, louder and more sternly.

"Crystal," the large man said, smiling, his pudgy face rearranging itself to accommodate.