Walter dropped his empty bottle in the bucket. ‘You’ve seen the polls?’

‘Sure. They suck.’

‘They suck all right. The Governor got no bump from the smooth response to Chayla. All the headlines have gone to Ramona Cortes talking about law and order and political corruption. She sits there and lumps the Governor’s scandal in with the Common Way shit like it’s a symptom of some bigger problem, and the national media eat it up. She’s up ten points. Ten.’

‘Cheer up,’ Ogden told him. ‘It’s not the end of the world.’

Walter stripped off his sunglasses and jabbed them at Bush. ‘See, that’s what I hate about consultants. It’s all a game to you. You win some, you lose some. At the end of the day, you don’t care. Me, I think about a right-winger like Ramona Cortes sitting in the governor’s office, and it makes me sick. It’s a fricking disaster.’

‘You’d rather Diane Fairmont?’ he asked.

‘Between the two of them? Yeah, I’d take Diane over Ramona, but that’s not going to happen.’

‘Nope,’ Bush agreed. ‘Diane’s toast. She managed to look noble stepping down, though. People see her as a victim again. Lots of sympathy.’

Walter snorted. ‘So what are you doing here, Ogden? You need a job?’

Bush shrugged. ‘Yeah, kinda ironic, huh? Diane’s out, so am I.’

‘We’re not hiring.’

‘No? We’ve got a deal, Walter. I expect you to live up to it. I kept my end of the bargain. I was your spy.’

‘A spy who couldn’t deliver,’ Walter snapped.

‘Oh, don’t be so sure. You’re going to want to see what I brought you. Of course, if you’d prefer, I can simply burn it, and you can spend the next four years dealing with Governor Cortes.’

Walter’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you talking about?’

Bush waved the tan envelope in the air. ‘I have a little parting gift from our friends at Common Way.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like a nuclear bomb,’ Bush said.

Walter frowned. ‘What is it? Where did you get it?’

‘It showed up on my desk. I don’t know who left it there, but I can guess. Fact is, I think they suspected my divided loyalties. As for what it is – well, see for yourself.’

He handed the envelope to Walter, who dug out a pair of reading glasses from a canvas bag beside his deckchair. Walter undid the hook on the envelope and slid out a single sheet of paper. It was a copy of a ten-year-old invoice from an Orlando law firm, and the services rendered were described simply as ‘Consultation.’

Walter recognized the name of the firm. It was an old-line white-shoe law firm with political connections and a practice that spanned corporate and criminal matters. He also recognized the name of the man to whom the bill was addressed.

Lyle Piper.