Ambition(14)

"I wanted to offer my assistance, of course," Francine practically oozed, perching herself on the chair. She ran a hand over the upholstery, which I had to admit was nice, if not in my style. "I had such a good time picking out this pattern for your predecessor, I was sort of hoping things could be equally magnanimous between us."

"Considering that Harry Vickers is currently in Federal custody awaiting trial, I'm not sure that's a good thing although I hear he's scraped up his bail money," I replied with a laugh. "Considering he was dirty and all."

"Harry was dirty, but so is most of the rest of the council," Francine said, shrugging off my comment. "He was only stupid and dirty. I'd hate to see such a bright young superstar as yourself make the same mistakes he did."

Damn, the bitch didn't mince words. I wondered if I should set up my office for recording conversations like Nixon did, just to protect my ass. "And what mistakes were those?"

"For one, he didn't have enough buffers between himself and the money he took. Secondly, and probably more important, he didn't play ball with the right people."

Spinning the cap on my Jolt Cola, I took a long swig before replying. I wanted to make sure I chose my words very carefully, just in case Francine was trying to get me to say something incriminating as well. I may not have been recording, but that didn't mean she wasn't. "And by the right people, I assume you mean you, of course."

"Among others," she said. "Patrick, this city has been rotten to the core for generations, and the actions of one man, especially one with the unknown background of Marcus Smiley is like pissing into a hurricane, you're just going to end up covered in stench if you try."

Again, I chose my words very carefully. "So what is your advice?"

"I saw your little press conference on the television before I came over. Very noble of you, by the way. I suspect that regardless of the buildings that MJT is donating or footing the bill for, they're going to need extensive renovations to be able to pass city code for fire safety and other issues."

"I suspect so. I haven't talked about the details on that with Miss Williams yet," I said, taking another drink of cola. "Why?"

"Well, this city has a long and rich history of our construction workers and renovation experts having very strong union   ties," Berkowitz said, smiling. "I would advise you to of course use only qualified union  ized workers for the renovations. After all, better safe than sorry."

I nodded, understanding her threat. In addition to the construction union   being under her control, Berkowitz was also head of the union   that represented most of the city's workers, including the fire department and the city inspectors. If we were going to get our permits, we'd need their approval. "I see. Well, I’ll have to talk this over with Miss Williams, of course. MJT and the Spartans are running things, I'm just providing the political oomph to make sure we get good coverage of this."

"Of course, Councilman. I mean, such a position could be a coup for you, and turn this, what is it, two year term that you have until the next regular election for another five years? Why, you'd be the sort of young face that the city would love to see climb the ladder of politics, free from the constraints of either the Republicans or the Democrats. I would give you one more piece of advice, for free of course."

"Of course."

"If you do decide to turn this into something more than a gig in between bartending jobs, go and get those tats lasered off. Especially the ones that say you used to affiliate with the Confederation. I doubt the state Democrats would appreciate those."

She stood up and smiled at me, but there was no warmth in that smile, just the bared teeth of a shark that knew it was circling prey. "Good day, Councilman. I'll be in touch."

I watched Berkowitz go, and drained the rest of my Jolt in one long pull. I looked at the bottle she had left unopened on the table, and with a sigh put it back in the mini fridge. I had to before I sucked the whole bottle down. I couldn't be cruising on caffeine that night, I had work to do, and couldn't afford a caffeine crash at one in the morning. Sighing, I sat back down at my computer, then pushed the keyboard away.

"Fuck this," I muttered to myself. Reaching for my phone, I at the same time pulled out the card that Tabby had given me with her phone number written on the back. Dialing quickly, I wondered if the increased heart rate I was feeling was due to fear from Berkowitz's visit, the caffeine going through me from the Jolt, or nervousness from talking to Tabby again.

"Hello?" a slightly musical, sexy as hell voice said in my ear. Damn, I hadn't noticed that the last time.