Midnight in the Garden

Chapter 8: Inside the Criminal Mind

"It's my show tonight," she said.

Anakin was growing impatient. A few nights' rest had rejuvenated all of them, though Sereine wrung her hands ceaselessly over what Palpatine might be doing in his spare time. In her new position, she could monitor what he did in the Rotunda and the Senate Office Building, but who knew what he did when he went home? The past few nights, she reported, Palpatine had left early--something he never did in the thirteen years of Sly Moore, giving Sereine an insouciant grin as he swept out the door.

Of course, he did have his little wife. Senator Palpatine had married an Alderaanian, one Amne Selrieen, about the same time he was first elected Chancellor. Sereine did not know her, had never met her. She made campaign stops and stumps every election cycle, had once been kidnapped, and had lost two pregnancies that Sereine knew of. She seemed to stay out of the Chancellor's office, mostly, and for that, Sereine was grateful. She still felt the sting of Palpatine marrying so soon after breaking their own engagement, and looking her replacement in the eyes was not something she found high on her wish list.

Lady Palpatine was thirty years Palpatine's junior and fifteen years Sereine's. Sereine had seen some of her speeches and had never seen such a soft-voiced, highfaluting, formal speaking style in all her life. Were she still in charge of Chancellery campaigns, the first thing she would do was break her of that foul habit. It screamed insecurity, and for that reason, Sereine had never thought of Palpatine's little wife as a person of much spirit. She passionately wondered at times how Palpatine had enjoyed their relationship so long and then chosen the likes of Amne Selrieen. She would never lower herself to ask, however.

Anakin felt much better; his sleep had been restful and strangely untroubled by dreams. "Sereine," he said. "We're running out of time. Padme  is running out of time. We need to think of a plan."

It was true; and yet ...

"What if Finis is right?" she said. "What if we need more information? What if we're not asking the right questions...because we don't want to hear the answers?"

***

Sereine insisted they take public transport. "And I don't think we should discuss strategy in the building any more, especially the elevator."

Anakin considered. "You're probably right," he said.

"Anakin, I'm going to give you a job to do for me tonight--and from now on, actually."

"What's that?"

"When I speak to Palpatine during these lovely evenings together, I want you to monitor how I sound. It's okay if I'm sad and I cry, but if I start to get angry or loud or sarcastic, or belittling, or anything other than placidly calm, the rule is that I have to leave, and try it again later. We need a signal," she said.

"Crying isn't placidly calm," Anakin pointed out.

"But it isn't mean, either. What I'm trying to say is that when I cross that threshold, I have to be respectful to Palpatine at all times. Especially when we're discussing The Situation. Will you help me out? It's important."

"I don't get it," said Anakin.

"I need to get some truth out of him, and I can't if he knows I'm going to bludgeon him for it."

"Okay," said Anakin.

"Now, a signal."

"I'll just touch you. I'll put my hand on your arm, like this." Anakin put a restraining hand on her forearm.

"And if that doesn't work, say my name. I'll know what you mean."

"All right."

They filed into Palpatine's private office after his last appointment in a scene that was becoming depressingly familiar. Palpatine checked his chrono and switched on a sort of annoyed patience, clasping his hands on his polished desktop with a brittle smile.