The Senator's Murder

By David P. Warren

Steve Anders is the chief of staff for Senator Edward Buchanan. Senator Buchanan is a powerful and controversial figure surrounded by intrigue. The Senator is rumored to be in possession of classified information and of having affairs with a staffer. Steve is the Senator’s fixer and is on top of his game and well-respected throughout political circles. His brother Jack Anders runs a political consultancy firm representing the Senator.

Both brothers are at the top of their game, but everything is about to change. The Senator accuses Steve of stealing classified files and he is fired. That evening, the Senator is found murdered in his home. As detectives investigate the Senator’s murder, the clues start pointing in Steve’s direction.

Attorney Adam Lucas takes on Steve’s representation and does his best to establish reasonable doubt, while politically ambitious district attorney Robert Burnbaum seeks to launch his campaign for governor on the publicity that would come with a conviction of Steve Anders for murder.

As a jury is selected and the trial that is now national news begins, Steve faces the prospect of thirty years in prison. But nothing is as it seems and the unexpected testimony to be adduced at trial will shock the watching world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Next Chapter
• Release date: Jul 1, 2024

Book preview

ONE

(CLASSIFIED FILES AND THE HANDOFF)

Jack Anders’ face hurt from smiling. It happened at every political fundraiser he attended. There were perpetual handshakes with Class A donors and a host of lesser-known climbers who managed to get a foot in the door. There was a parade of familiar and unfamiliar faces shaking hands and grinning widely, conveying that they were delighted to meet Jack, or to see him again, having not seen him since the last fundraiser. By the end of this kind of an evening Jack had typically managed to collect pledges for several million dollars for the candidate and sore cheeks for himself. It was all about getting the money people motivated to appear. If he got them in the room, by convincing them that the candidate was on their side, he would separate them from their expansive wallets. It would then be up to his firm and the successful candidate to turn these moments that inspired supporters into policy and position that, at least to some extent, was consistent with the goals of the donors.

Jack had been around politics for the past twenty years, and at forty-five he was well known in both Republican and Democratic circles. He had good looks of the Robert Downey, Jr. sort that featured watchful blue eyes, a full head of black hair accentuated by a little grey, a strong chin, and a compelling smile. He also had an air of confidence and a professional reputation for listening to reason, and getting deals made.

This particular fundraiser was for Senator Edward Buchanan, a four-term senator running for a fifth, and overly confident that the seat was his to retain indefinitely no matter what he chose to do. Senator Buchanan was a lightning rod for supporters of both parties because he made it his practice to overstate his successes and vilify his opponents. The republican right loved him, and the democratic left viewed him as a disease that they feared might be contagious. The moderates in both parties, to the extent they still existed, tolerated the excesses of his pronouncements but viewed them all with a mountain of salt. But in these turbulent and tribal times, extreme candidates could raise money, and in Senator Buchanan’s case, he could narrowly win elections and claim that he won by a landslide and carried a mandate, all of which he could deliver with a straight face.

The event filled the grand ballroom in the ostentatious home of a billionaire who made his money in oil investments and wanted the push toward electric automobiles and alternative energy sources slowed as much as possible. If having a grand ballroom in one’s home wasn’t pretentious enough, the billionaire host had convinced Senator Buchanan to accept a huge donation to his PAC in an unspoken exchange for access to the Senator and input concerning legislation that was of interest to him. It all worked well for this and other billionaires since the United States Supreme Court had determined that massive gifts to political PACs were simply free speech, under the Citizens United decision, and protected under the First Amendment. Go figure.

Jack regarded his watch, silently pleadingly with it to move more quickly. It was eleven thirty. The multitude had been fed and wined, the donations had been painfully extracted, and Jack was more than ready to go home. Unfortunately, no one was moving towards the door, and no one was encouraging the crowd to do so. The fifteen-piece band played, and the joyous attendees danced, drank, and pontificated. As was common to these events, everyone talked, and few listened.

Jack’s partner, Lynn Nelson, gave him a look that conveyed that she felt his pain. He grinned at her, and his face hurt again. He shrugged and stifled a yawn. She caught the yawn and nodded. They both wanted to find a way out, but they were expected to stay until the last tipsy donor shook their hands with excessive excitement and staggered out the door of the mansion to their waiting limos. Only then could they convey kind words to the host and say goodbye to the client, Senator Buchanan.

Around here somewhere was Jack’s younger brother, Steve. He was even more hopelessly tied to the erratic and demanding Senator Buchanan than Jack. Jack had other clients to serve, most of whom were less annoying than the insatiable Senator Buchanan. Steve was the Senator’s chief of staff and was subject to his self-serving demands twelve, and sometimes twenty-four, hours a day. Jack regarded that kind of full-time subservience to an ego-maniacal autocrat as beyond human endurance, yet his little brother seemed to be able to pull it off and keep smiling. Remarkable.

Senator Buchanan had a way of pushing people one step beyond their comfort zones as a test of fealty to him. Steve had often told stories of utterances by Buchanan in staff meetings that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Buchanan wanted staff to come very close to bribing his big dollar supporters to get more and bigger donations. On more than one occasion he managed to obtain confidential information on donors or colleagues and suggested that he was happy to keep the secrets of those who were his friends. Friends were defined as those who threw money his way or acknowledged that he was a great man publicly and regularly. The senator was always in the market for secrets he might use to raise money or political capital, or to stifle an opponent. Steve had related that he felt like he needed a shower after attending such meetings with Buchanan but being close to power and well-paid, at least thus far, kept him in the game.

It was 12:30 a.m. when Senator Buchanan started a twenty-minute speech, informing the crowd that he would fight for them in the corridors of the senate every day and thanking them for their attendance, confidence in his team, and financial support. He concluded by reminding them that him remaining in the seat of power was imperative to their own best economic interests. Jack couldn’t imagine that they needed that reminder given that they paid ten thousand dollars a plate to be in this opulent mansion tonight.

At 1:00 a.m. Jack and Lynn stood at the front door and shook hands with the attendees as they slowly exited. The reception line at the end of the night was a painful procedure near and dear to the Senator’s heart. He viewed it as the final opportunity to let them know that they were in close touch with the power brokers that surrounded him. It was only a matter of time now. Jack was already looking forward to falling asleep before 2:00 a.m. He could get four hours of sleep before he had to get up and get into the office for the next upcoming disaster. After the guests had departed, the Senator spoke to his staff and representatives for another thirty minutes, primarily aiming his comments at how the next gathering could be bigger and generate even more contributions. Senator Buchanan was never short of ideas and ambition, although he didn’t always have a grip on which of his ideas were actually feasible.

All of this annoyance would have meant nothing—it might even have been welcomed as a blessing, if Jack had known that so much of the life he knew was about to disappear into the rearview mirror and his whole world was about to come undone. He would soon find himself questioning everything he thought he was sure about and all of those who meant the most in his life.

At 2:55 a.m., Jack crawled into bed and was asleep almost immediately. It had taken him a year after his divorce to get used to spending most nights in bed alone, but now he was four years from the end of his marriage, and he was comfortable alone, or at least used to being alone. The solitude gifted him too much time to think and he missed having a partner to talk to as he climbed into bed, but he had figured out how to cope. It was all about where you put your focus. Too much work had been his way to approach the problem. It didn’t keep his feet warm, but it was a perpetual distraction.

It seemed like a matter of minutes before the 6:00 a.m. alarm was triggered, and his wake-up song, Everybody Wants to Rule the World, by Tears for Fears began playing loudly. He climbed out of bed and made his way to the shower with his eyes resisting opening fully and the bed calling him to return. Thirty minutes later he was climbing into his car with his first cup of morning coffee in hand. It had the potential to be a long day. He would need more coffee and a bigger mug.

Jack walked into the office, shed his jacket and proceeded directly to the coffee pot. He made a mug of coffee and returned to his desk. He had been responding to email for about twenty minutes when his assistant walked into his office.

Morning boss.

Morning Ann.

Were you and Lynn up all night babysitting the senator? she asked with a grin.

"Not all night. I think I got about three hours of sleep. I’m only grateful that I didn’t dream about his never-ending fund raisers.

Ann laughed. I know what you mean. I can’t get his endless campaign speeches out of my head when I go home some nights.

That’s what he’s going for. We’re all supposed to think of nothing else.

Right. The senator’s minions can spread out and take over the earth.

Jack smiled. Now you’ve got it. All in for the cause. No sacrifice is too big.

Ann shook her head. It rings true all right. Tell me again why we represent this guy?

Jack thought for a moment and then said, Because we too are fond of status and money.

Then I guess we get what we deserve.

Ouch. I hate to think that we deserve life with that narcissist.

Maybe not life. Maybe we can get time off for good behavior.

Yeah. Except that most everything he does negates good behavior. Now, let’s think about some other more deserving client.

Yeah, let’s. Ann shook her head. I don’t know how your brother does it. Full time with that guy would make me crazy.

Yeah. Him too. Steve is crazy.

She unleashed a troublesome smile and then said, Okay. Is that a gene that you both inherited or was it something in his upbringing?

Given that we have the same genes, and we had the same upbringing, there’s no good reason for me to look for an answer to that question. One more reason to talk about something else.

Fair enough. Let’s talk schedule. You and Lynn are going to talk about a potential new client this morning, you have an eleven o’clock meeting with the Morris campaign, and you have two conference calls this afternoon, neither of which should go more than six hours. With that, Ann grinned widely.

Aren’t you amusing this morning?

I thought so. But then again, I don’t have to sit in on the conference calls.

Maybe your participation can be arranged. Her eyes grew wide. Not so funny now, huh?

They both laughed and Ann said, I need coffee.

Cheers, Jack offered, holding up his mug and taking a sip of his coffee. He gave her a ‘ce la vie’ shrug and said, I hope I didn’t get the last of it.

Never, she replied. I have a stash.

Jack returned to responding to his emails, saving the ones that triggered the need for research or some other action for some fantasy moment when he would have the time to address them. A few minutes later, his intercom buzzed, and Ann’s voice announced, Jack, Senator Buchanan is on line three, and he sounds distressed. I mean, even more than usual.

Great. Just in case I didn’t get enough of him last night. Thanks, Ann.

Jack Anders thought for a few moments before picking up. Ed Buchanan was a demanding client and a world-class pain in the ass. He made sure that the public was aware of his every move. As was said about Teddy Roosevelt, Buchanan had to be the bride at every wedding and the corpse at every funeral. In fact, Buchanan looked a little like a well-worn Teddy and a latter days David Crosby. He wore a grey-white walrus mustache, circular glasses that appeared too large for his small eyes and carried substantial excess weight in his midsection.

Another defining attribute was that the Senator took controversy with him everywhere he went. At this moment, allegations of an affair with a staff member were circling, although Jack had no idea who would want to hop into the sack with the Senator, and classified documents had disappeared and were believed to be in his possession. In some ways, the senator was his own worst enemy. He perpetually undermined Jack’s ability to generate a positive public image for the man. Jack would get the attention of media with a positive policy that the Senator was chasing, but the praise would be drowned out by his latest dubious behavior. While Jack was working to get the Senator past his latest self-generated crisis, Buchanan would be working on the next even bigger disaster. Notwithstanding his serial missteps, the Senator managed to get re-elected based on name familiarity. Everyone in the country knew the senator’s name, and that seemed to be enough to allow him to survive the onslaught of disturbing news that surrounded him as each election day drew near. Jesse James didn’t do much public good, but his name was also familiar to all. While the senator’s activities were less flashy than those of Jesse James, some of them seemed to be just as questionable.

It had only been two weeks ago that Jack and Lynn released a major media release emphasizing Senator Buchanan’s policy efforts aimed at protecting funding for social security benefits. The news release was intended to take the focus off the controversial allegations that surrounded the Senator and put it on issues people cared about, while hopefully give the senator’s sagging poll numbers a bump.

The Senator gathered the media to make his achievements known and there had been a full house. Reporters and cameras crowded the conference room and the Senator had taken the podium wearing a blue suit, a red tie, and a wide smile.

Good morning, ladies, and gentlemen of the press. I have some great news to share with the whole country today. I have the pleasure of announcing that Senator Jackson and I have been working on a bipartisan plan to save social security while minimizing negative impact on recipients and contributors. Eligibility will be bumped up one year in five years and another year five years later. The workforce will pay only one- and one-half percent more and the program will have life for the next twenty years and beyond. We also believe that we have the support required to pass the bill in both houses and the president is prepared to sign it. It has been under construction for the past three years and worth every minute of time expended. With ongoing bipartisan efforts, we are about to accomplish what has been promised by politicians for the last fifty years. Senator Buchanan smiled widely, his pride in the accomplishment evident, and let the point settle. Then he added, Let me throw it open for any questions about the new program. He looked around the room and selected a reporter. John, from CNN. Go ahead.

Senator, it has been widely reported that you are in possession of classified documents. Is that true, and if so, why?

The Senator visibly tightened, and his grin disappeared. I don’t know who starts these kinds of false rumors. It is ridiculous. No, I don’t possess classified documents. I review them in the same restricted manner as all others. You people in the media need to exercise more caution. You have a responsibility not to propagate false information. Remember what happened to Fox News. Realizing that his anger had gotten the best of him, Senator Buchanan drew a breath and was silent a moment, before saying, Now let’s get back the issue we came to talk about. Hands shot up all over the room. Jen from Fox, he said, pointing in her direction.

There has been a good deal of talk about you being involved with a staff assistant. We thought that you might like to clarify to set the record straight.

He took it as another challenge, rather than the softball question that was intended. His eyes flared. My staff assistants are my staff assistants. That’s all. He shook his head and tried to calm himself. This was not going well. Questions about the bill, please. He looked around. All right, Jerry form MSNBC, go ahead.

You are running for reelection Senator. People have a right to know. You say your assistants are just your assistants, but didn’t you buy one of your staff assistants a car?

That was information that Jack didn’t even have. The reporters looked under every rock and they were unstoppable. The Senator stared and the man in silence. I guess there are no questions about the bill. I’m glad you are all comfortable with it. Have a nice evening. He turned and walked from the room with his entourage of three following. The journalists looked around at each other, sharing grins and trying to determine how they would write about what had just happened. The new bill would get mention, but the focus was likely to remain on the controversy that surrounded the senator. After Senator Buchanan walked from the room and took a few minutes to calm himself, he had called Jack to complain that the campaign he designed had been a failure. There was always someone to blame for the senator’s lack of self-awareness.

Jack took a deep breath and then hit the line three button. Hello, Senator. We had quite a successful fundraiser last night. It brought some good money into the campaign’s coffers.

I’m not calling about last night, Buchanan muttered unhappily.

Jack shook his head. Okay, how can I help you?

I wanted you to know that I’m not taking the fall for your brother.

What?

You heard me.

I did. It just didn’t make much sense.

Well, let me clear it up for you. I know that your brother is the one going to the press with false stories about me. He’s the leak and the source of all my problems.

I wasn’t aware that Steve was out to get you seeing as he works on your team and has been making you look good for the last three years.

He’s not getting away with this, Buchanan said angrily. I’ve been getting all this heat about missing classified documents and it’s your brother’s doing. He’s going to jail.

What are we talking about? Jack asked. What do you think Steve did?

And I can’t work with you anymore. I can’t have a consultant who’s close to him.

Senator, tell me what this is about. There was a click, and the call was over, the question left hanging in the air. In shock, Jack put down the phone still wondering what had just happened. He had been fired over some paranoia about his brother? As he considered, the intercom buzzed.

Yeah, Ann?

Steve called while you were on the line. He says to call him right away. He says that it’s an emergency.

Okay, thanks.

Jack hit a button on his cellphone and Steve answered on the first ring. Jack, we have a problem.

Apparently we do, yes.

I have to see you. I need help and I don’t know what to do.

Jack recognized the seriousness of his brother’s tone, and said, I just spoke to Buchanan. He says he’s not taking a fall for you, whatever that means. Steve was silent, so Jack added, I can meet you at The Elmhurst Tavern. Let’s say seven o’clock.

Thanks. See you there.

As Jack hung up, shaking his head. In the space of two phone calls, he had learned that his brother was in some kind of trouble and that his firm had been fired as a political consultant because he was related to his brother. Even in politics, it was not normal for a senator to disavow his chief of staff and throw him under the bus. Steve was aggressive sometimes, but he was a loyal employee, and he always had his boss’ interests at heart. He would have a fascinating conversation with Steve tonight.

He needed to get to work, but there was someone else on his mind. Jack picked up his phone and called another number. Hello, Jack, a soft voice replied.

Hi Carol. How are you?

I’m good. How about you?

"I’m doing all right. I’ve been thinking about our date last week. I really had a

great time."

Yeah, me too, she said.

Will you go out with me again?

I was hoping you would ask.

How about dinner tomorrow night?

Sounds perfect.

Can I pick you up at 7:00?

I’ll be ready.

See you then, Jack said. As he hung up, he thought about the sweet taste of their good-bye kiss on date number one. With any luck, there would be more of that.

He thought about her lovely smile, probing green eyes, slightly upturned nose, and the blond hair that framed it all. More than that, he thought about the fact that he had not been attracted to a woman the way he was to Carol since his marriage had ended four years ago. They were only one date into this relationship, and he already wanted to see it blossom—to see what it might become.

He looked up to see Lynn standing at the door. You got a minute? she asked.

Yeah, sure.

His partner said, "I just set a meeting with Bob Taylor for tomorrow at 3:00. Now that his campaign for congress is picking up steam, he wants us to make our pitch to provide campaign support.

Sounds good. We can make room for Taylor. Turns out we just had some space open up.

Oh?

Yeah, Senator Buchanan just fired us because he’s pissed at Steve, and I’m related to Steve.

She