Chapter 19

Chapter 19—The first meeting

8:54 a.m., Thursday, December 15

James was on time. That’s not terribly significant, in that James was always on time. In fact, throughout all his years working with Bob and Allison, with numerous meetings every day, no one could recall James ever having been late. It would, of course, have been difficult to know that for certain, because no meeting ever started without Bob, and he was never on time. Suffice it to say, James always showed up before Bob did—so, whether or not he was actually on time would be moot.
It was now 9 a.m. James was stopping in front of the designated midtown coffee shop to pick up Jerry and Steve. As he hugged the Escalade up close to a parked car, he lowered the tinted passenger window so that he could be recognized. With that, the two men exited the coffee shop and briskly trotted between two parked cars. James pulled up a few feet, allowing them to open the back door and jump in.
“What’s with the Escalade, James?”
“Not allowed to talk about anything other than the weather right now—Boss’s orders. I’ll let you know when it’s okay.”
“You should tickle your ass with a feather, Old Boy.”
 “What’d you say?”
“I said it’s particularly nasty weather, don’t you think?” Jerry blurted out.
“Just get in and be quiet. Okay, boys?” James told them. “...And don’t think you’re fooling me with that ‘Little Murders’ line. You’re not the only one who spent time in the Village.”
Jerry’s eyebrows arched. “Are you sure about that?”
They both had a lot of admiration for James. They had all worked closely together during the eight years of Bob’s presidency. They knew that when James said something, he meant it. So, they just sat silently until they arrived at the parking garage where they were to pick up Allison and Reg.
James knew why Allison had told him to keep the guys silent until she joined them. For one thing, she wanted to establish her leadership over the group. She wanted them to view her as the tough guy.
Another reason for them to remain silent was once they were all in the Escalade, he was going to wand them all for recording and transmission devices. He had already discussed this with Allison. When she and Reg got in, she would give the order, and he would go to work.
“Who’s the fourth fool?” Jerry blurted out, forgetting what James had just said.
“Silence, please.”
“Sorry, James.”
James expected his command to be obeyed. He said nothing more, as he stared at Jerry through the rear view mirror.
Jerry immediately realized what he had done wrong. He was beginning to get the picture.
James pulled over to the side and stopped. When he did, Allison and Reginald approached the car. Reginald and Jerry were old friends, but when Jerry spotted Reginald, a small smile crept across his face. He realized that the fireworks were about to start, as soon as Reginald got a look at Steve. He, too, was well aware that those two definitely did not like each other.
While Jerry smiled at the site of Reginald, Steve’s expression was vastly different. When he got a look at Reginald walking with Allison, he audibly groaned, and rolled his eyes back in his head. “Oh, hell, I do not believe this.”
“You can be quiet as well,” James commanded.
James had a way of dressing people down without actually insulting them, or raising his voice. His firm tone was expected, and even applauded by those who worked with him. No one really minded his taking charge. Perhaps if he were ever to make eye contact with someone while he was scolding, it might have been a different matter. But James had a way of sticking his very large face in your face, and almost yelling at you, but at the same time he never actually looked you in the eye while he was doing it. He might be scrutinizing the second button on your shirt, or glancing out the window, but his face would be in yours to the point that you would smell the cigar he had smoked an hour earlier. But he did not make eye contact—not when he was scolding.
James knew Allison would recognize the vehicle, so he did not roll the window down. Besides, he was probably sadistic enough to make sure he got a good look at Reginald’s face when his friend first realized that he would be working with Steve.
As they approached the car, Reginald reached out to open the front door for Allison. Their hands met at the handle, and she prevailed. “Damn it, Reg, just get in the back,” she commanded. “And do not say a word—not one damn word. Not yet.”
With that, Reginald opened the back door, and got his first glimpse of Jerry and Steve. He knew that James would be part of the group. But he did not know specifically about the other two.
Now, Reginald had no problem whatsoever with Jerry. In many ways, the two of them were a lot alike. They were about the same age—roughly early sixties. And they came up the same way. They were both intellectual ideologues. And, as much as possible, they both avoided the limelight. Neither one of them made it a practice to engage the media, unless forced to do so.
Steve, on the other hand, was much younger than the rest. And he loved the cameras. It had frequently been said that the most dangerous place in DC was between Steve and a camera. While that was a common clichÈ, it was thought that it might have been used first when alluding to Steve’s penchant for publicity.
Jerry tolerated Steve, but he did not did not really like him. Reginald, however, loathed Steve.
When Reginald’s eyes met Steve’s, it was totally obvious that he was not happy about what he was getting into. However, Reginald was very much aware of protocol. Allison had told him to get in and shut up, and that is exactly what he was going to do. His face got purple, but he never opened his mouth.
“Okay, James now has a job to do,” Allison commanded. “I do not expect to hear a damn word out of any of you until James gives the okay. So sit still and shut up.”