Lady Justice and the Candidate (Lady Justice, Book 9) Read online

  “Obesity is one the biggest health concerns in America today and one reason is that people eat too many Twinkies. Maybe we should make them against the law. But don’t stop there, how about Ding Dongs and Little Debbie Cakes?

  “Absurd? Yes, because it’s all about people’s right to make choices as long as they’re willing to live with the consequences.”

  Ann gave Ben an approving look, “Judging from your trim waistline, I’m guessing that you’ve made some moral choices regarding Twinkies?

  “You mentioned your other personal choices as far as alcohol and tobacco are concerned. What is your position on the legalization of marijuana?”

  Ben smiled, “If you’re asking if I’ve ever lit up a doobie, the answer is 'no.'

  “I realize that my position on this may be unpopular with many Americans, but again, let’s look at what happened during the prohibition years.

  “Alcohol was thought to be a vice of the devil, but the laws forbidding its use didn’t stop it from being used. Today, alcohol is sold in our ballparks right along with the cotton candy and peanuts.

  “While using the drug is not my personal moral choice, I am not naive enough to believe that its use will ever stop simply because it’s against the law.

  “Under our current legal system, the only ones benefiting from its illegal stature are the drug dealers who market the product to people who insist on having it.

  “The war on drugs is a losing battle because as long as there is a demand for the product, someone will be there to supply it.

  “Legalizing marijuana doesn’t mean that we condone its use, but rather it is an acknowledgement that people are going to use it whether it is legal or not, so we might as well regulate it, control it, collect taxes on it and take it out of the hands of Mexican and Columbian drug lords.”

  Ann looked at her watch, “Ben we’re running out of time. You’ve certainly given us some interesting things to think about. Do you have any final thoughts for our audience?”

  Ben looked directly into the camera. “Folks, whether you realize it or not, this election is about more than just picking the next guy who is going to live in the White House for the next four years. It is about preserving your basic rights and freedoms under the Constitution.

  “Please exercise your right to choose while you still have it.”

  The screen went black and I turned to Mark, “Holy Crap!”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” he replied.

  CHAPTER 8

  After Ben’s appearance, the Morning Show was flooded with viewer calls and emails.

  It was a mixed bag. As expected, there were advocates on both sides of each of the issues that Ben had touched on, but there was one common theme; while they might not like his position on this or that, they definitely wanted to hear more from this controversial figure.

  The next day, we were off to Washington, DC.

  It had been hinted that Ben had a message to deliver to the Washington bureaucrats.

  We checked into the infamous Watergate Hotel where Ben was to deliver his address in one of the elegant ballrooms. A news interview was to follow.

  Ben had invited reporters from The Washington Post of Woodward and Bernstein fame, the guys that uncovered the Watergate scandal that led to Nixon’s resignation, and The Hill, which features investigative reporting and politics on Capitol Hill.

  I learned that I would make my debut performance at this event.

  Ben would deliver his address, then I would be shuffled out for the glad-handing, and Ben would reappear for the news interview.

  After our briefing, Mark pulled me aside.

  “Walt, now that you will be officially 'under-the-gun,' so to speak, you will be assigned your very own Secret Service team. I’d like you to meet the leader of your team, Brian Sullivan.”

  The guy that stepped forward looked like he had been ripped out of a teenager’s combat video game.

  He had to be at least 6’2” and weigh in at 230. My first thought was the verse from Tennessee Ernie Ford’s rendition of Big Bad John, Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip, and everybody knew you didn’t give no lip to Big John.

  He had one of those square heads with closely cropped hair and you just knew that he had once been a Navy Seal or Green Beret or some other action hero.

  “Call me Sully,” he said, extending his beefy paw.

  “And you can call me Walt --- or Marvin --- or Ben --- hell, I don’t even know who I am these days.”

  Mark got a kick out of my frustration, “Sully and you will be constant companions from this day forward. You will not go anywhere or do anything without informing Sully. If you need to take a crap, he will be in the stall next to you. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I got it.” It looked like Sully and I were going to have a very intimate relationship.

  “Then I’ll let the two of you get acquainted,” he said, and hurried off to his next assignment.

  “So how did you get stuck with me?” I asked.

  Sully looked really forlorn, “They told me that I wasn’t good enough yet to protect a real president, so they’re letting me practice on you.”

  “Oh, swell! That gives me all kinds of confidence!”

  “Just kidding,” he said with a grin.

  I figured that I might just like this big galoot.

  I was mentally gearing myself up for my first appearance as Ben Foster when Paul Ford entered the room.

  “Walt, we need to press you into service.”

  “But I thought that I wasn’t going on until after the address tonight,” I protested.

  “This is something a little different. One of Ben’s supporters, a very wealthy one I might add, is stopping by today for a personal visit and hopefully she will be bringing a check for our campaign coffers. We’re really tight on funds.”

  “So what does that have to do with me?”

  “Ben is very busy preparing his remarks for the address this evening and would like for you to meet with Miss Haversham.”

  Just the name gave me the willies. “But I don’t know anything about schmoozing old ladies out of their bucks.”

  “There’s nothing to know. She just wants to meet her hero and shake his hand so that she can go back to her bridge club with a new story. I’m sure you can handle it.”

  “Great! What time is she coming?”

  “Actually, she’s waiting for you in the hospitality suite. Smile!”

  This reminded me of the time when I was just a green, scared kid at Boy Scout Camp and the older boys threw me into the pool and yelled, 'SWIM.'

  My first look at Miss Haversham confirmed my suspicions. She was a portly matron in her sixties. Her hair, obviously dyed a brilliant crimson, was piled high on her head and her face had been under the knife more times than Joan Rivers.

  More frightening than anything was the huge poodle that was attached to her arm by a leash.

  “Oh, Mr. Foster,” she gushed, “I’ve wanted for so long to meet you!”

  I extended my hand, “Pleased to meet you, Miss Haversham.”

  “And this is Fifi,” she said proudly, giving the leash a jerk.

  The dog was sporting one of those ridiculous haircuts where part of his fur was completely missing except for big balls of fluff here and there.

  Fifi dutifully stepped forward and buried her nose in my crotch.

  I have no idea why my genitalia are so attractive to dogs. Mr. Winkie and the boys seem to have the same effect on canines as catnip does on felines.

  “Whoa, down girl,” I said, gently extracting her nose from between my legs.

  She responded with a big slurpy kiss on my hand.

  “Isn’t she adorable?” Miss Haversham said proudly.

  I was about to make a comment when I saw Paul make a grimace.

  “Absolutely, Ma’am. She’s definitely one of a kind.”

  Miss Haversham plunged ahead, “I read in the paper that while you were in New York, you and Mrs. Foster att
ended Jeremy Siskind’s performance at Carnegie Hall. I was there too. Isn’t he fabulous!”

  I had absolutely no idea who Jeremy Siskind was. “He was indeed. We both enjoyed it very much.”

  “The way he interpreted Debussy on the piano was extraordinary, don’t you think?”

  Actually, my idea of a great piano player was Jerry Lee Lewis. I guess there were some things that Ben and I just didn’t have in common.

  “Extraordinary, indeed!”

  In the next fifteen minutes, I spewed more pure crap than ever before in my life.

  As I reflected on the encounter, it brought to mind the old adage, “If you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit.”

  When the whole ordeal was over, we had a fat check in our hands and I didn’t even have to promise her that I would protect her interests in big oil or where ever it was that she got her big bucks, so I guess that I did all right.

  In preparation for the evening’s event, I was dressed and groomed so that I looked exactly like the real Ben.

  When his address was about to conclude, Sully would commandeer one of the service elevators.

  Paul Ford would announce that Ben would take just a moment’s break and be right back. We would trade places and Ben would wait in his room until I had finished kissing all of the babies, then we would switch again for the news interview.

  I was given one of those little ear buds so that I could hear what was going on and be in the loop.

  Sully and I and the rest of the team gathered in front of the TV to watch Ben’s presentation.

  As usual, Paul Ford made the introduction, and I have to admit that I got a little shiver every time I heard him say, “Please welcome Benjamin Franklin Foster, the next President of the United States.”

  Ben greeted the crowd, but wasted no time in getting down to business.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if you have been following my campaign, you know that a very important plank in my platform is reform.

  “I have come to Washington, DC to deliver a message to the bureaucrats sitting in their appointed seats in our government agencies --- you’re days are numbered!

  “I pledge to you that when I am elected president of this great country, one of my priorities will be to root out all of the bureaucrats that have been serving the interests of big business rather than the interests of the American people.

  “Our governmental structure gives its citizens at least a token say in who represents them through our election process, but what many people don’t realize is that many of the decisions that are made that directly affect our daily lives are made not by elected officials, but by bureaucrats appointed by the administration.

  “Surely we are not so naive as to believe that giant corporations that have poured millions into the campaign chest of the winning candidate don’t expect quid pro quo. Any president that makes an appointment that is not sympathetic to the business interests that the agency is designed to regulate, risks losing that financial support.

  “Let’s look at a case in point.

  “The Food and Drug Administration is one of the most powerful agencies in our government and directly impacts the lives of every American and yet it is one of the most corrupt.

  “The FDA controls what drugs are available to us and what is contained in the food that we eat.

  “The FDA has the power to make laws and enforce them without congressional approval or debate.

  “Since the FDA is the agency that has the final word on all drugs that are approved, and once that approval is given, the pharmaceutical company that holds the patent will make billions from the sale of the drug.

  “There have been hundreds of articles and studies done on this agency, documenting that many of its decisions have been based on favorable results for the pharmaceutical industry rather than what’s best for the people it is supposed to be serving. I will not bore you with details of these studies tonight. You can read them for yourselves on my website, FosterForPresident.com.

  “Drugs were approved that actually led to the deaths of thousands of Americans and yet at the same time, the agency has suppressed natural remedies that could help people simply because they cannot be patented and sold for billions by the big drug companies.

  “But where is the actual evidence of any collusion you might ask? Again, go to my website, but consider this, twelve out of twenty FDA commissioners went to work directly for the drug industry after leaving the agency and were paid millions!

  “Let me repeat, my pledge to you when I am elected is to root out and expose not only any bureaucrats that have been involved in collusion with the food and drug industry, but any congressmen as well.

  “There shall be a new standard for appointees to these agency positions. Every appointee must agree to never accept compensation or accept employment from any company in the industry that his agency regulates.

  “This government must return to the day when it protected the citizens of America and not the interests of big business.

  “Thank you. I’ll return shortly.”

  That was our cue and my entourage quickly headed toward the elevator.

  “When the doors shut, Mark gave me a quick pat on the back, “Remember to smile.”

  He punched the button, the elevator shuddered momentarily and I was off to my first gig.

  When the door slid open, Ben and I traded places and Sully led the way to the ballroom.

  I stepped out onto the floor and was greeted with a round of applause. Eager attendees pushed and shoved to get a closer look and a handshake from the new candidate.

  Sully and his crew kept the surging crowd at bay and formed a barrier behind which I could walk and shake the extended hands.

  It reminded me somewhat of Jay Leno’s entrance on the Tonight Show, where he shakes hands with the audience before his monologue.

  As I shook each hand, one of the thoughts going through my mind was Where have these hands been? Did that guy just pick his nose? Did that guy wash after taking a leak?

  I made a mental note to thoroughly disinfect immediately upon returning to my room.

  Even though my lines weren’t difficult, I had rehearsed them carefully.

  “That you for coming this evening.”

  “Thank you for your support.”

  “Thank you for your kind words.”

  I had it down pat.

  After I made the first pass, I turned around and retraced my steps, shaking the new hands that had appeared across the Secret Service barrier.

  Every once in a while, through my ear bud, I could hear short communications between the SS agents. “All clear in Sector B.” “All clear near the elevator.”

  It was comforting knowing that these guys had my back.

  When I reached the end of the line, I turned and waved to the audience and Sully guided me back to the elevator.

  I felt a great sense of relief. I had made it through my first performance without being shot.

  When we arrived at the elevator door, I could see immediately that something was wrong.

  The look on Mark’s face screamed 'disaster.'

  “We’ve got a big problem,” he said. “Ben is stuck on the elevator and he’s supposed to be going right back out onstage for the press conference.”

  I remembered the elevator’s shudder on my ride down.

  “So what are we going to do?” Sully asked.

  Mark raised his hand and listened intently on his cell phone.

  “Looks like Ben won’t be coming out anytime soon. Walt, you’re going to have to do the press interview.”

  I felt my body give a shudder of its own when I heard Mark’s words.

  “I --- I --- I can’t do a press interview! I’m not a politician! I wouldn’t have the slightest idea what to say!”

  “Ben will look like a fool if he doesn’t show up for this press interview. We can’t say that he’s stuck on the elevator --- he wasn’t even supposed to be on the elevator.”


  “He may look like a fool anyway with me out there.”

  “Just do your best and answer a few questions, then announce that you hate to cut things short but you have a flight to catch. You’ve heard Ben several times now and you know what he stands for. You can do this.”

  Mark certainly had a lot more confidence in me that I had in myself.

  Sully led me back to the stage that had been set up much like the interview that I had seen a few days ago in K.C. with the news anchors onstage.

  There was a podium for me, and two reporters sat behind a table with microphones and wires.

  When the applause died down, the Post reporter spoke, “Mr. Foster ---”

  I cut her off immediately, “Please, call me Ben. No need for formality here.”

  I remembered Ben doing that and it was a very effective way to control the situation.

  “Uhh, yes, Ben. You were very hard on the FDA tonight. You mentioned studies on your website, but I’m wondering if you could give us a specific example of these alleged abuses?”

  Oh crap! I thought.

  Then I spotted a bowl of fruit sitting on the reporter’s table between two pitchers of water. I’m sure no one expected anyone to peel a banana in the middle of the conference. It was there for looks, but it gave me an idea.

  A year ago, I was involved in an undercover sting operation that uncovered collusion between Putnam Pharmaceuticals and the FDA.

  I had done a lot of research because of that operation and something that I had read popped into my mind.

  “Certainly,” I replied, “if you will let me borrow a piece of your fruit.”

  “Uhhh, sure,” she replied.

  I picked up a juicy orange and returned to the podium.

  “Do you remember earlier when I said that the FDA has the power to make laws and enforce them without congressional approval or debate?”

  “Yes,” she replied, “I remember.”

  “Then let me tell you about one of their 'laws,' ” I said, desperately trying to remember all of the details.

  “The FDA has decreed that only a drug can cure, prevent or treat a disease. They have taken this position because it protects the pharmaceutical companies from claims that natural remedies can provide the same relief as their wonder drugs, without any damaging side effects and at a fraction of the cost.