'Fenwick is due back late tonight. I won't say anything to him or to Red until I hear from you. Let me know as soon as you learn anything else.'
'I will, sir.'
'Will you also bring Senator Fox up to speed?' Hood said he would and then stood. So did the president. He seemed a little stronger now, more in command. But the things Megan had told Hood still troubled him.
'Mr. President,' Hood said, 'I do have one more question.' The president looked at Hood intently and nodded once.
'A few minutes ago, you said that this was'more bullshit,' 'Hood said.
'What did you mean?' The president continued to regard Hood.
'Before I answer that, let me ask you a question.'
'All right.'
'Don't you already know the answer to that?' the president asked. Hood said that he did not.
'You came to see me only because of what happened last night?' the president asked. Hood hesitated. The president knew that he and the First Lady were old friends. It was not Hood's place to tell the president that his wife was worried about him. But Hood also did not want to be just one more person who was lying to the president.
'No,' Hood answered truthfully.
'That is not the only reason.' The president smiled faintly.
'Fair enough, Paul. I won't press you.'
'Thank you, sir.'
'But I will tell you one thing about the bullshit,' the president said.
'This is not the only mix-up we've had here over the past few weeks. It's been frustrating.' The president extended his hand across his desk.
'Thanks for coming, Paul. And thanks for pushing me.' Hood smiled and shook the president's hand. Then he turned and left the Oval Office. There was a group of eager-looking Boy Scouts waiting outside with a photographer. The young men were award-winners of some kind, judging by their sashes. Hood winked at them, taking a moment to savor their openmouthed awe and innocence. Then he thanked Mrs. Leigh as he passed her desk. She flashed a concerned look at Hood, and he indicated that he would call her. She mouthed a thank-you and then showed the Boy Scouts inside. Hood walked briskly to his car. He started the engine, then took out his cell phone and checked his messages. There was only one. It was from Bob Herbert. As Hood headed toward Fifteenth Street, he called Herbert back.
'Bob, it's Paul,' said Hood.
'What's up?'
'Plenty,' Herbert said.
'First of all. Matt traced the call that came from the Hay-Adams.'
'And?'
'The call originated on Fenwick's cell phone.'
'Bingo!' Hood said.
'Maybe, maybe not,' Herbert replied.
'Explain,' Hood said.
'I got a call a few minutes ago, one I didn't expect to get,' Herbert said.
'From?'
'Penwick,' Herbert replied.
'He was open and sounded surprised by what I had to say. He told me he didn't speak to the president last night. He said his briefcase was stolen, which is why he didn't get the calls I left on his cell phone. He only got the one I left at his office.'
'I'm not ready to buy that,' Hood replied.
'The president did receive a call, and it was routed through the hotel.' True,' Herbert said.
'But do you remember Marta Streeb?'
'The woman who had the affair with Senator Lancaster?' Hood asked.
'Right.'
'What about her?'
'Her calls were run through a phone bank at Union Station so they couldn't be traced,' Herbert said.
'I remember,' Hood said.
'But the president isn't having an affair.'
'Are you sure?' Herbert asked.
'His wife said he was acting strange. That could be guilt--'
'It could be, but let's rule out the national security issues first,' Hood snapped.
