Perilous Panacea

Perilous Panacea by Ronald Klueh

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Authors: Ronald Klueh
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anyone else,” she said. But the idea invaded his brain like a malignant growth.
    In the heat of the argument, she yelled “separation,” Harry Bryson’s magic word. According to Bryson, “Once they mention a trial separation, it’s the beginning of the end. After that, you’ll soon be hitting the bars again, looking for pussy just like the old days.”
    “Mary said you were gone for nine days,” Uncle Nate said. “It must be a mighty important case.”
    “Just routine.”
    “The reason I called was to tell you that Mary’s worried about you. She’s one great shikse.”
    “That’s not what you called her when I told you I was getting married.”
    “I didn’t have great expectations considering you were marrying a shikse from some small burg in Indiana. I probably said, better you should marry a nice Jewish girl, and knowing me, I probably said a JAP. So I was wrong.”
    “You called her a typical empty-headed blonde shikse with a great tush and boobs. You didn’t want Mama to wind up a bubbe to a bunch of mishling brats. Your advice was to slip her that old kosher schlong until I got her out of my system.”
    “Tactful, I’m not. Now, I’m telling you, this dreck you’re giving her about her looking for somebody at work, who needs it?”
    “She told you that?” If she ever slept with somebody else, Nate would know before he did. Would he tell him?
    “Who else can she talk to? Better you should worry once in awhile to make sure you don’t take her for granted. I should be so lucky.”
    Listening to Uncle Nathan one-on-one, you’d never know that in public he looked and sounded like a handsome Ivy League English professor. And when there were women around, he turned on the charm to accompany the elegant words.
    “Anyway, this big job that takes you away from your computer and out of town so long, could the Senator capitalize the information?”
    “No, it is nothing like that.”
    “Hey boychik, the only way I’ll ever be governor is with his help. His name’s been mentioned as a future vice-presidential candidate. Any help you give him is help for me…and for you and Mary. Once I’m governor, I’ll be able to help the both of you.”
    - - - - -
    Dressed in a tan jacket, crisp white shirt and tan tie, Bart Kraft reigned from behind his desk, empty except for two pictures and a pad of paper. Everything in the paneled room had its place, from books on their shelves to the computer on the table behind his desk.
    Only Saul didn’t fit, sweaty in a wrinkled brown suit and out of breath from the sprint-walk from the parking lot—out of breath despite membership in Arlington Health and Fitness Club which Mary had talked him into “investing” in. Now she wanted him to invest in a wardrobe.
    “I’m not sure why you came out here,” Kraft said. “I told you everything I knew last time. Besides that, Doyle Logson can’t make it.”
    “I wanted to talk to you since DOE was responsible for the lost shipments, even though it was DOD material being transported.”
    Kraft’s broad smile only lightly wrinkled his tanned face. “Our security failed, but with the budget cuts…Have you made any progress?”
    “I’ve been to Tennessee, New Mexico, and South Carolina. The answer isn’t at any of those places.”
    “Then where is it?”
    The bastard knew as well as anybody, Saul thought. “Its here in Washington, at DOE.”
    Kraft reached to the right side of the desk top and touched the frame of a blonde woman’s picture set at an angle to a picture of Kraft standing with two young men about college age. That’s what he and Mary needed: kids. Fortunately, he hadn’t brought that up last night.
    Kraft looked directly at him. “If you’re saying this was an inside job, you’re wrong. Everyone involved with security here at DOE has been thoroughly checked and cleared.”
    After eleven months in Washington, Saul had encountered enough guys like Kraft, and they were starting to grate. Smooth in

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