The Gentleman from Indiana

Thanks to the Hip and Knee doctor for editing assistance.

There is no sex in this story. Sorry.

It wasn't completely dark in the room, but the curtains were closed and I only had one lamp on. I guess I could have been watching TV or drinking, but I just didn't feel like it. I showered and shaved before putting on my most comfortable clothes. It was going to be a long night and I wanted to be prepared. It was important for me to stay sober, even if I wanted to get dead drunk.

I had experienced quite a busy day and I was dead tired. As I sat there on the couch, I tried to figure out where I had gone wrong and then I decided that I hadn't. She had cheated and it was her fault, not mine. However, I was the one who would be paying for it. It didn't matter what happened it was a done deal.

Twelve years of marriage down the drain. Fortunately, there were no kids involved. Natalie had a bad miscarriage the first time that she gotten pregnant, three years ago, and that ended any chances for a family. We were both upset about the tragedy, but I never imagined that it would end up with her having an affair.

I kept checking the clock. Who would get here first? Would it be my cheating wife or someone from one of the many agencies responsible for peace and serenity in the DC area? It might be the FBI, the CIA, the local or state police, or even the Homeland Security. A cold beer would sure taste good right now.

The farmhouse in Warrenton was far enough away from the city that it allowed me to not be bothered with too much of the political crap. A year after the miscarriage, Natalie got a job as a publicity agent for a political lobbying firm and had to travel across the beltway everyday. She complained about it a little, but the excitement of the work seemed to offset any inconvenience.

Natalie was excited about her new job at first and enjoyed telling me about all of the interesting people she had been in contact with during her workdays. I always listened and paid attention. It was at a point during the second year that I noticed that there was a certain contact who she regularly had, who she never mentioned. It was an individual that we both knew and were actually friends with. The fact that she avoided any discussion about him was troubling.

Malcolm Eugene Heard was one of the Senators from our home state of Indiana. Natalie and I went to the University of Indiana with Malcolm and his wife Sonja. As Malcolm rose in the political arena, we sort of drifted apart, but we still exchanged Christmas cards. Natalie's company was responsible for providing publicity for Malcolm's campaign and for his contacts with his constituents back home. Over the last year, I had seen several photos of the Senator in the papers and magazines where Natalie could be seen in the background. There were a few short TV clips where he was meeting people and she would be standing close by while smiling. She would have been invisible to most people under these circumstances, but not to me. She had never once mentioned having seen Malcolm or having talked to him. I certainly felt that this was unusual.

I worked at home and rarely went into the DC area. I had a small, but successful business managing retirement accounts for companies with less than 100 employees. Most of my competitors wanted to concentrate on the larger clients, so I had an open field. I wasn't making a lot of money, but I was comfortable and I enjoyed my work, especially since I could conduct the entire operation at home with no office staff.

It was easy to make myself paranoid about the whole situation. It was harder to verify if something was actually was going on, or if it was my imagination. A private detective was out of the question. There was no way I could afford to hire someone to get the lowdown on a US Senator.

In desperation, I bought three, small, hand-held GPS units. They had a battery life of eleven hours and would record everywhere that Natalie drove to during her work day. Most of the driving was to the beltway and around it until she hit Alexandria. There was no way that I could use the devices to actually follower her, but I didn't want to do that in DC traffic anyhow. I figured that I could use one of them each day for three days and then use the weekend to follow the bread crumbs. If she was cheating, then maybe something would show up.

Of course, the GPS units worked far better than I had anticipated. The first three days that I used them, she stopped twice at the Executive Suite Apartments near Reston. I had no trouble at all verifying that Suite 214 was leased by US Senator Malcolm Heard. I didn't know how long she had stayed there, but that really didn't matter.

I guess I could have confronted her with my new-found information and allowed her the opportunity to give me an explanation, but I never did.

For the next few days, I left home after Natalie did and drove to Reston. I found a quiet, out of the way spot, and got comfortable. On the second day, Malcolm arrived in a large black Mercedes. Ten minutes later, Natalie showed up. It was over two hours until they came out and left separately. My marriage was over. It was time for planning.

Three different companies made offers to buy my small business. I quietly put the money into a long-term, off-shore account. The house mortgage was more than the current appraisal, so I decided that I could walk away from it. Nothing else seemed to matter.

They had met twice on Tuesday, so I used that as a planning point. I spent all day on Monday printing letters and address labels. There were over two hundred stamped envelopes ready to go out by four o'clock.

Everything went off as planned the next day, which also happened to be today. First, I attached a bright orange smoke flare to Malcolm's ignition and then I carefully cut each of Natalie's valve stems. Malcolm's car wouldn't be destroyed, but it would be unusable until it was cleaned. Before returning home, I mailed all of the envelopes. Phase one was completed.

Natalie arrived home before any of the Federal Agents that I was expecting. She took off her coat as she walked into the room. Her purse went on the side table with a resounding plop. I noticed a slight glance, but she said nothing.

Finally she sat directly across from me and sighed.

"I had to get one of the girls from work to give me a ride home."

I didn't say or do anything.

"That was a pretty drastic thing to do, Robert."

How did she know that it was me? It could have been a vandal, or someone with a political grudge. I didn't respond.

"You could have said something. Why did you have to do that?"

"Why didn't Malcolm give you a ride home?"

"You know damn well, why. We had to get both cars towed."

"Sorry if I caused you any inconvenience."

"There were police there, and reporters. Two TV crews showed up."

"I know. I called them."

"You son-of-a-bitch. That was horrible and inconsiderate.

Malcolm is up for re-election. If they find out what really happened, it will kill his chances."

"I hope so."

She seemed to be trying not to cry. It wasn't working.

"Natalie, what was I supposed to do? You were cheating on me with someone that I thought was still a friend. Does Sonja know what is going on?"

"No. Of course not. Hopefully, she still doesn't know. They have three children, Robert. Do you have any idea what this would do to their family?"

"Oh, that is nothing. Things are going to get far worse over the next few days."

"How can they get worse? Nothing could be worse than this."

"Well, for starters, the police will be here for me shortly."

"Why? Neither Malcolm nor myself ever mentioned your name."

"How did he explain it to the authorities?"

"He just said it was somebody who didn't agree with his political views."

Well, that sort of screwed up my plan before it got started. I was expecting to be dragged down to some sort of interrogation facility and worked over.

"Robert, do you want to talk about this? Do I get a chance to explain what happened?"

"No!" I got up and walked to the kitchen. If the police were not coming, then I was going to have a beer. "Natalie, I don't want to know what you did, why you did it, or when you did it. It doesn't matter. You can move out, or you can stay. I simply don't give a damn, but please, don't even try to justify it." I walked out to the front porch. It was chilly for this time of year. The beer tasted good, but coffee would have been better. I had no plan for reconciliation and no idea why she did what she did. I didn't want to know.

When I went back in, Natalie had gone to the bedroom and closed the door. I got another beer and sat back down on the sofa. It was going to be a long night.

About an hour later, my wife returned to the living room. It was evident that she had been crying. She gingerly sat on the chair closest to me and started to wring her hands.

"Robert. What did you mean when you said things were going to get worse?"

"I sent a letter to Sonja today. I also sent two hundred and twenty-one copies of the letter to every newspaper, radio, and TV station in the area. Every member of the US Senate got a copy as well as the FBI, CIA, NSA, and Homeland Security. Everybody in both of our families got one and every name on our Christmas card list. Each commentator on FOX TV got their own letter. Your boss and everyone you work with also got one."

"Oh, God no! What kind of letter? Who do you think is going to believe an accusation from a crazy man? Do you really have rock solid proof that anything was going on, or are you still guessing? You are going to look like a fool, Robert."

"Worse than that. They are going to call me demented and crazy. Do you think I care? I have no life and nothing to look forward to. I am going down, but I am not going down alone."

"I think you are over-estimating the power that your letter will have. Public figures get letters like that all the time. They have a special file for them."

"Then I guess I wasted my time. I guess that is good for you and Malcolm. If it's all right with you, I am going to sleep on the couch tonight."

I pulled the Afghan off the back of the sofa and started making a bed.

"Can I at least see the letter?"

I went to the desk, took a sheet of paper from the top drawer, and handed it to her. It was quite short and only took her a few seconds to read it. "Oh no! Robert, you didn't send this. Please say that you didn't."

She slumped in the chair and started to cry. The letter fell to the floor.

"Dear Sonja, If Malcolm sees or even contacts Natalie one more time, I will kill all three of your children. Your friend, Robert Sorensen."

It was not something that a sane man would write. Of course, I didn't mean a word of it, but I felt it was necessary for the shock effect. I was sure that I would be apprehended as soon as the letter got out and I would receive the harshest treatment. I didn't care. If I had ranted like a cuckolded husband, the letter would have been ignored. Threatening the life of a US Senator's children was sure to get some attention.

Natalie got up and staggered into the bedroom. The earliest that the mail would get delivered tomorrow, would be about nine o'clock. I figured that I could get one more night of sleep before everything turned to shit.

I was up bright and early the next morning. Luckily, I had a razor in the car which I used on the way to the closest diner. I had the breakfast special and picked up a pack of gum on the way out. I would have preferred a toothbrush, but the gum would have to do today. I tried to kill as much time as possible, but I knew that eventually I would have to return to the house.

There was a black sedan and a state trooper car in front of the house when I arrived home. I never made it to the door. Natalie was standing on the porch in her bathrobe as the FBI agents drove me away with a trooper escort.

For the next few days, I was either being interviewed or cooling my heels. I missed out on most of the hoop-la that went on, because of the letter. They never really charged me with anything, but the term 'terroristic threat' was used a lot. I felt a weird contentment during the whole process. People were constantly trying to intimidate me or scare me, and I found it humorous.

I had not heard from Natalie since I was picked up. There was never any mention of bail. I never even saw a lawyer.

I was never relocated to an actual jail or prison facility. They kept me in a secure area of the Federal building. I was sort of isolated, but never abused or mistreated in any way. After a while, I got the feeling that people were trying to work around me and avoiding any confrontation. Things were not going as I anticipated, because I thought that I would be charged with something. I guess I did a piss-poor job of planning. For the time being, all I could do was go with the flow. I never asked for a lawyer and one was never offered.

I had been expecting a visit at some time from my wife, but it never happened. Instead, I got a visit from Malcolm's wife, Sonja. They left us alone in a small room. I was not restrained in any manner and there were no guards. I am sure that there were some type of listening devices in the room, and there was the usual, large, one-way mirror on the wall.

"Hi, Robert." All I could bring myself to do was nod. I had done a terrible thing to this woman and had no idea how to make it up to her.

"Can I get an explanation or something similar?"

"I am sorry, Sonja. The best I can do is offer you an apology. What I did was stupid, but I was desperate. I never meant to hurt you or the kids, and I think you know that. It was the only way I could get any attention."

"That was important to you?"

"I couldn't compete with Malcolm and you know that. He is powerful, rich, and quite charismatic. I hated the fact that I had lost Natalie to him, and also that there was no way to pay him back for the pain he had caused me."

"Well, you seemed to have done a damn good job." All I could do was give her a quizzical look.

"Malcolm was called back to Indiana to sit with the State Democratic Committee and to discuss this recent incident. Robert, this was not the first time he screwed up, but it is the first time that his people have not been able to hush it up. People who back politicians have ways of keeping things looking clean, but you stymied them with your blitz."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Right now, I believe that Malcolm's political career is over."

"That's only fair as so is my marriage." Sonja gave me a weak smile.

"Robert, I need a favor."

"After what I did to you, you would consider asking me for help? What could I possibly do for you?"

"I am planning on divorcing Malcolm and wondered if you had some type of proof concerning his affair with Natalie?"

"Sorry, I can't help you. All I know was that Malcolm had a lease on a condo unit in Reston and the two of them used to go there to be alone. I don't have any videos, photos, or audio recordings. For all I know, they could have been playing Scrabble together."

"Malcolm hates Scrabble." We both had a small laugh together.

Things were silent for a few moments. I felt uncomfortable because I had not been able to shave or clean up for a few days. Sonja was perfect in every way. She looked better now than she had when we were in college. She had grown from a gawky adolescent into a beautiful woman. Malcolm had everything: power, position, a family, and a wonderful wife. Why did the son-of-a-bitch need to take mine?

Sonja got up from the chair, indicating that our little chat was over. "Can I visit you again, Robert?"

"Absolutely. I would enjoy that."

She left and I felt a little sad. I had threatened the lives of her children in front of the whole world and she never raised her voice to me, nor did she indicate that she was upset with me in any manner. It was as if she known what I was trying to do, and understood why I did it.

Two hours later, I was removed from the Federal building and taken home. They unceremoniously dumped me in front of my house and took off. There was no explaination and nothing was said on the entire trip.

The house was empty. All of Natalie's things were gone. I didn't know where her car was. I disconnected the phone, and spent the next few days watching television. I got a perverse guilty pleasure from watching all of the havoc that I had caused. For some reason, the media seemed to be more interested in the affair, than in my threats. After two days with no outside contact, I finally called my parents to let them know that everything was Okay.

On my first trip out of the house, I bought two sixpacks of beer and ten frozen TV dinners. I waited until the last of the photographers had left. Hopefully, my fifteen minutes of fame was over.

I thought about calling Natalie's parents or sisters in an attempt to locate her, but couldn't come up with a reason. I decided to wait and make no waves. I still had the nice little bundle of money sitting in my overseas bank account. I had no idea what to do with it. I had enough money in the local bank to last me a few more months and then I would have to make some sort of lifestyle decision. What was I going to do to earn a living? The answer came from an unexpected source.

Malcolm Heard was no longer his party's choice for re-election. He did not take the news gracefully. The general news media played down his objections and tirades, but Fox played it up to the hilt. The more he screamed and hollered, the more Fox baited him. His big mistake was taking his anger out on his wife. Sonja put a stop to his bullshit by sticking an eight-inch kitchen knife into his chest. There was ample evidence to prove that she stabbed him in self-defense, including the nanny, who was an eyewitness. However, the complexity of the situation created a mess for Sonja, and a nightmare for her children.

Two days later, I was picked up at my house by a small non-descript car and taken to Bethesda. A secretary from the law offices of Barnes, Barnes, and Griffin, indicated that they needed to see me on an urgent matter as soon as possible. They offered no other information, but the invitation was so intriguing that I had accepted. I didn't even get to enter through the front door. We parked around the back and actually went in through a fire exit. I am sure that the room I was led into was not one of the ones reserved for the high-end clients. It felt like a pro-bono set up, but that didn't seem to make sense.

"Mister Sorensen. My name is Wilfred Malik. I have been selected to present a special offer to you." He was grossly overweight and sweating profusely, even though it was not that warm. I guessed that he was about fifty years old. His thinning hair was combed over and his face had a rosy glow to it.

"What do you mean, 'you was selected?'"

He gave me a funny look. I guess he was confused because I questioned his choice of words instead of inquiring about the offer he was about to propose.

"Why are we in this little room, Mister Malik? I feel as if you are trying to hide me or something."

"You are very astute, Mister Sorensen. We have been instructed to keep this visit low key. Shall we say, no one is really supposed to know that you are here."

"I take it that you are a specialist in 'low key' customers?"

I didn't get an answer. He had a folder in front of him and not much else.

"Do you know where Niihau is?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do. I have never been there, but from what I understand, very few people have."

"Sonja Heard owns, or shall I say leases, a small home on Niihau."

"That doesn't make sense. Niihau is a restricted island. I thought that nobody lived there other than a few natives and the owners."