Chronicles of the Shade – Part II – Episode 5
Chronicles of The Shade Part II
The McPain Conspiracy
By Sam Miller
EPISODE 5
Lance Carter parked his black Honda on the street two blocks from the unassuming apartment building on K Street. He knew that Hildegard Swinton rented a small flat here for the times that she had to be in D.C. for a late-night Senate vote, when she didn’t have the time to fly home to New York. Today the Senate had voted on a crucial bill to ban further torture by the CIA, and Lance knew that Hildy Swinton would be on hand to vote for the ban, something she had done several times in trying to override the many vetoes that President Liar had issued. The president always said that he was using his veto power to enhance intelligence, whereas those in the know believed that it was to protect his many cronies who feared that a torture ban would reveal their involvement in these inquisitorial practices.
Lance Carter waited in the shadows until he saw a man approach the apartment building and fumble in his trousers for a key to the front door. Then Lance assumed the persona of The Shade and walked quickly to the building. As the man opened the door, The Shade held it open just long enough for him to follow the man inside.
Once inside the hallway, The Shade checked the names on the mailboxes. No Hildegard Swinton. But there was an H. Rockham listed in 3B. The Shade knew that ‘Rockham’ was Hildy’s maiden name, so he quickly found the stairwell and climbed to the third floor. He then paused outside apartment 3B, and he checked to see that his tape player was in his jacket pocket. The tape from “Shooter” Chancey’s encounter with The Shade the previous year was already in place.
Taking a deep breath, Lance knocked on the apartment door. He heard a stirring inside the room. “Who is it?” asked a voice from behind the door. Hildy Swinton sounded tired. She had spent the entire day on the Senate floor, and now she just wanted to rest.
“Building maintenance,” said Lance, having assumed his this-worldly form. “We’ve had a complaint about a security system failure. May I come in to check if your system is working?”
“Just a minute,” said Hildy Swinton, who was no fool. She had many enemies among those whom she accused of being involved in a vast, right-wing conspiracy against her. She opened a drawer and withdrew a snub-nosed .38 revolver and put it in the pocket of her dressing gown. Then she unbolted the door and stepped back into the room, her hand in her pocket. “Come in,” she said.
Lance Carter entered the sparsely decorated room. “Sorry to trouble you so late,” Ms. Rockham,” he said, “but we wanted to make sure your ADT system is working properly.” As he said so, he moved to the hall closet where he knew that most security systems were based. He took a flashlight from his pocket and opened the security box, pretending to check the fuses.
“Everything seems all right in here,” he said. All the while, Hildy Swinton was at his back, her hand in her dressing-gown pocket.
“OK,” Lance said. “If you’ll stay here a moment, I’m going back to the front door to test the system. When I do, tell me if any lights come on in here.”
Lance walked to the front door and opened it, once again becoming The Shade. “No lights? OK, then, everything seems fine,” he said. “Sorry to trouble you.” Then, as The Shade said, “Good night,” he shut the door and remained inside the apartment. When Hildy Swinton appeared from the closet a few seconds later, the room seemed empty. She re-bolted the door. Just as a precaution, however, she kept her .38 in her dressing-gown pocket.
The Shade waited quietly in the hallway until Hildy Swinton turned off the lights and retired to her bedroom. He waited another several minutes before entering the now darkened bedroom. After adjusting his eyes to the darkness, he removed the tape player from his pocket and placed it on the bureau. Then he stepped to the side of the bureau, keeping it between himself and the blanket-covered form lying on the bed.
Then The Shade spoke. “Mrs. Swinton,” he said, trying to keep his voice as placating as possible.
Immediately, there was a rustle of sheets on the bed, and The Shade heard Hildy Swinton fumble for the .38 special on her nightstand. “Who’s there,” she said, her voice trembling in fear.
“Would it make you feel less afraid if I told you I was one of your prayer group?” said The Shade.
There was the sound of the .38 revolver being cocked. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my bedroom?” came Hildy’s whispered question.
“Look, I know you have a weapon,” said The Shade, hoping that he was out of her line of fire. “But I’m not here to harm you. I just want to play a tape recording for you.”
“Why in the devil would you want to do that?” answered Hildy’s rasping reply.
“I just want you to hear what’s on this tape, Mrs. Swinton. After that, I promise that I’ll leave.”
“How did you get in here?” answered Hildy.
“There was a glitch in the security system. I was here when you arrived,” lied The Shade. “The guy who came here later to check on it was too late.”
“I want to turn on the light,” said Hildy. “I want to see your face.”
“I urge you not to do that,” said The Shade. “Please, bear with me here. Just let me run the tape for you, and then I’ll leave.”
Something in Hildegard Swinton’s inner self told her that she was really not in danger. Instead, she was angry that someone was in her bedroom when all she wanted to do was go to sleep. She didn’t reply to The Shade’s request.
Then The Shade pressed the play button on the tape machine, and Hildy Swinton was treated to the sound of Ricardo Chancey’s bullying voice, entreating President B. A. Liar to do anything it took to keep up the pressure against his enemies, including the torture of captured prisoners. She recognized the voice immediately.
After the tape had run its course, Hildy Swinton said to herself, I knew it. I knew that Chancey hadn’t retired because of any medical condition. Then she asked a question. “What do you want me to do about this?”
The Shade took a deep breath, thinking that the future of the United States hung in the balance. “What I’d like you to do, Mrs. Swinton, is rethink the bargain I think you’ve made with Squintus McPain.”
Hildy’s heart leaped into her throat. She thought to herself, how can this be? How could anyone have known about the deal she had struck with Squintus McPain? Was it Squintus himself who had leaked that information?
The Shade composed himself and went on. “I know—don’t ask me how—that McPain offered you a cabinet position if you would refuse to campaign for Orama and McPain won the presidency. I’m here to plead with you not to take that deal.”
The Shade waited for her reply. “Suppose what you say is true,” said Hildy, her voice trembling. “What should prevent my doing this?”
“Because it would be wrong,” said The Shade. “Because it would go against all that you have fought for in your political life. Because Squintus McPain, aided by “Shooter” Chancey, is itching to go to war with Iroon, and then you would be responsible for the deaths of more people than have been killed in our misbegotten invasion of Jiraq. You might gain the presidency four years from now, but you would inherit a failed nation.”
“How do you know this?” said Hildy. “How do you know that McPain is intent on going to war?”
“You’ve heard Ricardo Chancey, himself, Mrs. Swinton. You know what he is capable of. I implore you to look to your conscience, to your belief that individual actions matter, to your wish that your daughter will inherit a better world.”
With that last, Hildy Swinton had a pang of conscience. Her daughter, Everton, had bravely taken the stump in Hildy’s ill-fated run for the nomination. She had endured being called a “pimp” for her and Jefferson, and she had campaigned with pride for her mother. What would Everton think of the deal she had made with Squintus McPain?
The Shade retrieved the tape player from the bureau and silently left Hildy’s bedroom. As he left, he could hear her sobbing from her bed. Chronicles of the Shade Part II Episode 6
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