Absent the big commuter crowds to slow the boarding of trains, I arrived at Capitol South twenty-five minutes later. Maeve hadn’t replied. Perhaps the “trouble” had already blown over. Just in case she still needed help, I headed directly to the Cannon rotunda without stopping at the office. Reporters usually camped out inside the rotunda to shoot live cable television hits from Capitol Hill. It wasn’t as grandiose as the Capitol rotunda, but its Corinthian architecture with imposing columns did provide a stately backdrop for the camera.I exited the elevator and walked past the famous Cannon Caucus Room, which hosted the House Un-American Committee hearings decades ago. Hearing Maeve’s voice in the distance, I followed the narrow hallway circling the rotunda. After rounding the bend, I found my boss. She wasn’t alone. Next to her was Detective O’Halloran of the Capitol Hill Police. Jack Drysdale was between them, but the Speaker’s top aide wasn’t looking so handsome this morning. Blood flowed from his head onto the pristine marble floor. If he’d generated Clarence’s Capitol Canine votes, there wouldn’t be any more favors coming my way. Jack Drysdale was dead.
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