“Correct.”
“Can you tell from your records the date on which each was hired?”
“I can, otherwise I wouldn’t know when to start paying them.”
“I would be very grateful if you could give me a list of all the people hired on the twelfth, fourteenth, and fifteenth of this month.”
“Overall, or by department?”
“By department would be helpful.”
“Can you give me a few minutes?” she asked.
“Of course.” Mike rose to go.
“Oh, not that many minutes. Just wait.”
Mike sat down again.
Carol Pressler turned to her computer and began typing. As she typed, her printer began to disgorge paper. A few minutes later, she got up, retrieved the paper from the printer, and handed it to Mike. “A total of a hundred and thirty-five workers were hired during those three days.”
Mike took the stack of paper from her. “So many?”
“We’ll have a little over one employee for every guest,” she said.
“I mean, so many in just three days?”
“Peak hiring time,” she said. “The hotel wants to hire people only shortly before they are to begin working. Interviewing has been going on for weeks, of course, but we want to hire personnel just in time to train them and put them to work, so the actual hiring is compressed into just a few days.”
“I see,” Mike said. “And did the Secret Service review the records of each hiree?”
“Yep. First time I’ve ever dealt with them, but given the importance of the guests, it’s understandable.”
“And did the Secret Service decline to clear any of them?”
“Only two, and they were Mexican-Americans who had counterfeit green cards. Very good counterfeits, too. Fooled me.”
“And they were not hired?”
“Nope. It’s the policy of the board to hire only legal workers. You should know that, since you’re on the board.”
“Quite right.” Mike stood up. “Thank you, Carol,” he said.
“You’re entirely welcome. I expect we’ll meet again.”
“I hope so,” Mike said. He shook her hand and left the office.
Walking back to his suite, he reflected that if Wynken, Blynken, and Nod were hired on those days-and that was only an assumption-and each had undergone the extensive background check by the Secret Service, then he was going to have a hell of a time figuring out who they were.
21
Holly Barker looked across her desk at the young woman. Her name was Heather Scott, she was thirty-five, single, and had been at the Agency since her graduation from college. Holly liked her. She particularly liked that she had held responsible assistant’s jobs in both analysis and operations, so she had an understanding of how both directorates worked.
“Heather?”
“Everybody has called me Scotty, since childhood.”
“You were born and raised in a place called…” Holly checked her application. “Delano, Georgia?”
“That’s right. Public schools, followed by the University of Georgia.”
“And you were recruited where?”
“On campus at Georgia. A recruiter spent a few days there.”
“What do you hate most about the Agency?”
Scotty erupted in laughter. “That’s a tough one, since I like so many things about it. I like coming to work every day.”
“Come on, what do you hate?”
“I hate it when I can see a piece of information as relevant, even critical, and it takes the Agency too long to come to the same conclusion.”
Holly laughed. “I think we’ve all had that experience. No matter how exotic our work, we’re still a bureaucracy.”
“I’ve had to get used to that.”
The two women talked on for another half hour, then Holly said, “I’ll get back to you in a few days.”
“Right,” Scotty said. She stood up and shook hands with Holly. “If it’s offered to me, I’ll take it.”
“Good to know.” Holly watched her leave, then she got up and walked across the reception room to Grace’s desk. “Okay, I’ve found my assistant. What next?”
“I’ll send her name to our internal security people, and they’ll do a fresh background check, from the ground up.”
“How long will that take?”
“Yours took a week,” Grace said, “but Heather Scott’s is likely to take a lot less, since she’s never been employed anywhere but here.”
“Then go,” Holly said, handing her Heather’s personnel file. “The sooner she’s cleared, the sooner you can wash your hands of me.”
Grace smiled. “Oh, you’re not so bad. You’re a piece of cake, compared to the director.”
Holly laughed and went back to her office, past the outer room where her assistant’s desk was. Her phone buzzed: the director.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Come in for a minute, Holly.”
Holly opened the adjoining door and walked in. Kate Lee was sitting on a sofa by the window and waved her to a seat.
“How’s the search for an assistant going?”
“I’ve found her, I think.”
“Did you talk only to women?”
“I’ve seen half a dozen people. Two of them were women. The one I didn’t choose was probably a good secretary, but I thought she would never be more than that. All the men were too nakedly ambitious, I thought.”
“And the other woman was just right.”
“I believe so. Grace is ordering the requisite recheck of her background, and if she passes, I’ll offer her the job.”
“Good. Now there’s something else I want to ask you about. I’m reviewing a number of people who might be suitable to replace me, and one of them, of course, is Lance Cabot.”
Holly nodded.
“I want to ask you some questions about Lance, and I want you to put aside personal loyalty for a moment and give me straight answers, the unvarnished truth. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Forgive me if I cover territory you’re already familiar with, but it’s necessary.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Lance had a stellar career as an agent in Europe, but nobody he worked with liked him very much, including his boss in the London station, Dick Stone, whose untimely death allowed Lance to leapfrog into his position as DDO-at least, that’s the way some people saw it at the time. Why do you think he’s not very well liked?”
Holly thought about that for a moment. “A minute ago, you said you wanted the unvarnished truth.”
“And I do.”
“The unvarnished truth is what Lance offers, and he doesn’t much care who the recipient is. He states his
