Ms. Charlotte’s bedroom was adorned in enough fluffy whites and pinks to smother a unicorn.  Estella, the maid, arranged a manifestation of throw pillows, examined and reorganized.  She retrieved the clothes strewn across the hardwood floor and deposited them in the hamper on her cleaner’s cart.  She was very familiar with the madam’s requirements: hand-wash everything; so much as approach a dryer and her Oriental (often misstated as “Ornamental”) **** would be on the street.  If you can afford the suite at the Paragon, you can afford to be ignorant, Estella supposed.  She also knew it was no secret how Ms. Charlotte achieved her current position in society.  Plenty of other positions. 

Estella rolled her supplies to the door as John walked in, a terrycloth robe cinched at his waist.  He wrapped his arms around the Korean woman and lifted her off her feet.  Ignoring her gentle pleas to be set down, he spun toward the bed and threw her on top of the comforter.  “Senator –”

“Call me John,” he insisted.

Estella tsked.  “Now I have to redo the bedding.  Ms. Charlotte is very specific.”

“She’s in the bath.  She could spend hours in there.  All we need is a few minutes.”

A cell phone rang; the senator located it and pressed a button.  “Senator Hughes.”

He held up a finger toward the bed where Estella reset pillows, then listened to the caller.  His forehead wrinkled and his lips lost color.

“Damnit, Melanie!  I can’t get there!  I’m in the middle of a meeting!”

John waited, but Melanie wasn’t making him any happier.  “Tell him I’m busy and I’ll come to him when he has time.  Wait,” he paused, opening his robe and scratching himself.  “I thought I told you to clear my schedule.”

Apparently, Melanie was too new to understand how to calm the situation.  Estella snuck out as John’s voice raised another decibel level.  “Then tell Dr. Phipps I can’t come out right now, have Otto sign off on whatever paperwork he brought, and clean out your desk before I get back!”

He disconnected the call and cursed at the discovery of Estella going AWOL.  The phone bounced once off the wall and skidded under the bed.

A sing-song voice resounded from outside the door.  “Johnny Boy!  Don’t tell me you’re done your filibuster!”

He hurried across the room, retrieved a bottle from a pink ice bucket, and returned to the other room.

* * * * * *

The screen darkened and Ducky nodded his head at someone outside my line of vision.  “Dr. Phipps is one of ours.  Serves on Georgetown’s board of directors.”

I recalled Senator Hughes taking publicity photos at Hoyas games in his blue and gray sweatshirt and cap.  He claimed to be friends with Patrick Ewing before entering office, but besides an autographed picture on his wall, there was no evidence to support it.  Merely one of a thousand names dropped.  John would’ve claimed friendship with the Pope if he thought it would impress someone.  None of that was important right now, though.

“You said Ms. Charlotte’s penthouse is only two blocks away?”

Ducky approached a shade which magically lifted.  “There’s the Paragon.  But you’re not ready.”

Not to kill him, no.  But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t take advantage of this opportunity to give him a little bit of payback.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” I announced, dismissing myself through the door.  As I descended nineteen floors, I wondered how hard it would be to steal a disposable camera from the hotel store.