Max interrupted him, “You mean like insider trading?”
Gerber snorted. “Do you know what the fine is for that?” He didn’t wait for an answer and continued, “Two hundred dollars! A measly two hundred dollars.”
“Yet Martha Stewart went to jail.”
“Yep. She was a scapegoat. Throw people off the trail. Deflection. That’s part of the game.” Once again, he placed his hand on Max’s shoulder. “I’ll get to the point before your lovely bride comes looking for us.”
Max’s skin was about to crawl, but he let it go and simply said, “Continue.”
“I have it on good authority that your congressman has his eye on the White House and will be leaving office next year to pursue a campaign. He is going to need a replacement.”
Max listened but was still unsure as to what it had to do with him, so he asked. “That’s true, but why are you telling me this?”
“Because we want to have one of our guys in that seat. Someone who is perceived as a political virgin, if you will. No obvious ties. No quid pro quo. At least not to the masses.” He took another sip. “In two years, you could have the job.”
Max did a double take. “What? What job?”
“His, you fool. If we start now, you will be on your way to the Capitol in two years.”
“I don’t know a lot about politics. How could I accomplish that?”
“Have you seen who is in office? Senate or Congress? You are a lot smarter than most of them. They’re just lucky they have idiots for constituents.”
Max began to wrap his head around what Spencer was inferring. “So, you thinkIshould run for Congress? For the state of Florida?”
“See? I said you were smart.” He gave Max another slap on the back. “Think about it. I am sure your father-in-law would be a big contributor.”
So that was it. It was about Adam Whytecliff. Spencer had a point. Karen’s father was loaded and extremely influential. Maybe there was something to this plan. “I take it you have a strategy.”
“I do. And, as I said earlier, that is only step one.”
“What would be the step after that one?”
“Money gets thrown around all the time. Pork barrel stuff. Appropriating money for local spending.”
Spencer continued to lay out his plan for a future of lavish living. “Between the two of us, we could assure small sums of money are funneled into accounts for human resources. Medicare for one. Grants for another.”
“How does one accomplish that?” Max was unsure if his new pal was serious or delirious.
“Someone, could be either one of us, submits a bill to legislation, and a million dollars here, a million dollars there, goes into a shell company.”
“But who would be the recipient? There would have to be a foolproof paper trail.”
“Senior living.”
“Senior living? What do you mean?”
“Have you noticed our population is living longer?”
“Well, yes. I need you to be more specific. What exactly is your plan?”
Spencer looked over his shoulder. “I trust you, bro. I know you won’t repeat this to anyone.” Then Spencer explained this scheme. “We—the shell company, that is—develops two different senior citizen communities. One in Florida and the other in Arizona. Once they are up and running, we plan another one in New Mexico. I’ve got just the right dude to run for office there.”
He continued, “These complexes are tiered. There’s senior living, which will consist of duplex housing that seniors can rent with the option of having meals included. Very much like a resort. They will have all of the amenities including a golf course, pool, tennis, and fine dining.
“The second tier is assisted living, where people with special needs can live. A very scaled-down version of the active residential accommodations.
“The third tier is long-term care. One stop-shopping for the older folks is how I like to look at it.”
