Free Senate Cloakroom Cabal by Keith M. Donaldson Page B

my work. No distractions. Now after four months of maternity leave with Tyler, I almost looked at it the other way around.

18
    I arrived in the office at 9:30. I had talked with Michael Horne from home last night, asking him about Senate procedures, something Jerry said I should find out. I was also curious about what, if any, paper trail existed that might document the side effects the FDA had purported and who had tracked the testing.
    I knew little of how the Senate conducted themselves. It appeared to me things went on there in a very aloof manner, a world unto itself. Where were the checks and balances? The Senate advises and consents on the executive branch. Was there a similar system in place to do the same on Congress? If so, how did it work?
    Congress appeared immune to scrutiny, except for the criminal activity of a member. An analogy that popped into my mind was that of trying to prove a cop committed an illegal act with no one to corroborate it. The police have an internal affairs office. Was there something similar for senators? I’d heard of an ethics committee, but senators ran that.
    The Senate appeared to have oversight on everything, making them dangerously powerful and open to all sorts of opportunities. Maybe Michael Horne and Senator Roanne Dalton had a legitimate concern.
    I called Lassiter’s assistant and asked to see my editor following the staff meeting.
    Jerry had brought up what a drug failure could do to a company’s worth, which had made me wonder whether the company might have built up their drug’s potential, after which insiders may have sold their holdings at the inflated price. He said he’d look into it, once we had the company’s name.
    I pushed my mind onto Horne. He had provided a lot of ammunition, but no gun to fire it. His basic concern was with senators, pharmaceutical companies, and lobbyists possibly defrauding the American people. That would constitute a conspiracy and bring in the FBI. I felt at least one of those senators would have to be powerful, able to push things through and rally legions to him, or her.
    I felt antsy; Lassiter’s meeting was running long. I called Horne’s cell.
    â€œThis is Michael.”
    â€œHi, this is Laura Wolfe. I’ll meet with the senator. I’m waiting to see my editor—”
    â€œEditor?”
    â€œLook, I can’t go probing around,” I fibbed, “without official backing. Just so you know, I’ve gotten in trouble when I didn’t follow that directive.” And that was true.
    â€œI understand,” he said, but sounded unsure.
    He was difficult to read.
    My intercom buzzed. “Ms. Lassiter is available,” Mary said.
    â€œI’m on my way,” I told Mary. “Michael, I’ve got to go. And don’t worry.”

19
    â€œT hat pretty much sums it up,” I told Lassiter.
    â€œSounds like a lot of mishmash to me. What do we know—?” She stopped and pushed a button on her intercom. “Van?”
    There was a momentary pause. “Yes ma’am.” “Did you get anything back on Michael Horne?”
    â€œThere’s not much on him, but he is who he says he is. He majored in political science at the University of Pennsylvania and got a master’s degree in business at Wharton. He’s worked for Senator Dalton almost six years.”
    I jumped in. “That means he worked for H.T. Dalton and stayed on when his wife . . . Van, was he H.T.’s AA?”
    â€œI don’t remember . . . oh, here it is. He became AA last spring.”
    â€œThat’s after Roanne Dalton was appointed to her husband’s seat.”
    Van continued. “I have a whole bunch of stuff on Mrs. Senator Dalton.
    Did you know she was a beauty queen, made the top five in Miss America?”
    â€œThank you, Van, get that all to me,” Lassiter said flatly.
    â€œWill do.”
    Lassiter turned back to me. “All right. Looks like