Mar 012020
 

Thursday evening after work, I stopped by the Round Robin Bar, as I often do. About halfway through my Macallan 18 on the rocks, Higganbotham slid into the booth next to me and tossed an envelope on the cocktail table. “Count it,” he said. I knew Higganbotham, as most Beltway insiders do, as a notorious Republican bag man and fixer, so his behavior was hardly surprising. “I will,” I dryly replied, “but not here. This is a consultation fee, I presume?” “You presume right,” he growled. “Take that money, finish your scotch quick and follow me. We’re going for a little ride.” Outside in front of the Willard Hotel, a black stretch limousine with darkly tinted passenger windows and federal […]