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Back Below the Belt Save as PDF
Chapters (67)
  1. Cover
  2. BOOKS BY STUART WOODS
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
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  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  66. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  67. What’s next onyour reading list?

“It would be very helpful to me to have that, as well, Erik.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Suffice it to say that I believe it contains evidence of secret pardons, one of them that of Rawls, granted by Will Lee late in his second term, and that public knowledge of these might be an insurmountable impediment to the reelection of Katharine Lee.”

“Who was the other pardon for, sir?”

“I don’t know, but I would certainly like to. Beyond the pardons, there may be inflammatory information concerning our friend Mr. Knott.”

“Sir, I and my people have searched his background thoroughly, to the point where no one, in my view, could find anything derogatory that we have not already expunged from his various records.”

“I am aware that there are limits to what one man may learn of another, Erik. It is always possible to miss something, and I cannot afford that.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Keep me posted on Rawls.”

“Yes, sir.” Macher got out of the van and left on foot as it drove away.

35

ED RAWLS KEPT THE LOWEST possible profile for the first week. He used one light at a time, double-checking to see that the blinds were drawn, and he stayed out of the living room, which fronted the road. But then he ran short of scotch, and as an afterthought, groceries. It would take too long to get the scotch delivered, so he made plans to go to the village.

Shortly after midnight he grabbed a flashlight and made his way to the garage. He pulled the cover off the old Mercedes and disconnected the battery charger, all this without turning on a light. The car started immediately, and he let it run for a couple of minutes with the garage door open, then backed it out and pointed it at the main road, up close against the tall hedge, then he switched it off, closed the garage door, and went back into the house.

As he walked to the front steps he froze, then stood behind the big oak tree out front. A light had gone on in the house across the road, a hundred yards away, and as far as he knew, nobody lived there. It was a weekend place for the owners, and not every weekend, and tonight was not a weekend.

Keeping the oak tree between him and that house, he made his way to the driveway, then around back, letting himself in the rear door. He locked it behind him and went to lock the front door, as well. He got his binoculars from the bookcase in his study; they were high-powered, and he went to a front window and trained them on the light across the road.