press boxes and stared at Brad.
Brad wanted to duck out of sight, but he was paralyzed. Clarence Little smiled and started toward the entrance to the press boxes. He was halfway there when he froze and looked over his shoulder. Seconds later, he bolted out of the room through the door to the witness waiting area. A moment after Little disappeared, two members of the Capitol Police with their guns drawn burst into the room through the door the public used.
“He’s gone,” Brad said as he turned on the lights and stood in the window waving at the police.
“Who was following us?” Senator Carson asked.
“Clarence Little.”
“So he is after you.”
“Actually, he may have been looking for you.”
“Why would he be after me?”
“The press has been all over you about Dorothy Crispin’s murder. Well, I learned something they don’t know. Crispin was a law student, but she also worked for Executive Escorts, a high-end call girl operation that Jessica Koshani owned.”
Even in the dark, Brad could see the senator turn pale. “How do you know this?” he said.
“I can’t tell you, and please don’t pressure me, because I promised I wouldn’t reveal my source. What you need to know is that the man who murdered Crispin cut off her pinkie.”
“Oh, my God!”
“It’s beginning to look like Clarence Little killed Dorothy Crispin and Jessica Koshani. At first, I thought that Clarence saw me drive Jessica Koshani from the airport and killed her to send a message to me, but I never met Dorothy Crispin and both women have ties to you. If Clarence isn’t after me, then he’s probably after you. I think it’s time for you to talk to the FBI. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to, but your life may depend on the FBI knowing about your links to these victims.”
Chapter Forty-three
Terrence Crawford didn’t get up when his secretary ushered Bobby Schatz and Dana Cutler into his office. Schatz sat opposite the AAG while Dana planted herself on a sofa that stood against the wall.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, Bobby?” Crawford asked. “My secretary says you were mysterious about the purpose of your visit.”
Instead of answering, Schatz tossed a copy of the transcript of his attorney-client conference with Ron Tolliver onto Crawford’s blotter. Dana watched Crawford lose color as he leafed through the pages.
“Where did you get this?” Crawford asked.
“That’s not important.” Schatz dropped a Motion to Dismiss for Prosecutorial Misconduct and a brief in support of the motion onto the desk. “What is important is the fact that you violated a court order and my client’s Sixth Amendment rights by continuing to listen in on our conference after I specifically told you to cease taping.”
“You have no legal right to this document, Schatz. It’s stolen government property.”
“Then why don’t you have me arrested? The transcript will be the key evidence in your case. I want to hear you explain to the judge how this transcript came into existence. You may also be interested in knowing that I have an associate looking into whether this taping is a violation of the federal criminal code.”
Crawford ignored Schatz and picked up the motion and the brief. Schatz sat perfectly still as Crawford thumbed through the citations to the cases that required dismissal of the charges against Ron Tolliver.
“So?” Schatz said when Crawford put down the brief.
“How did you get the transcript?” Crawford demanded.
Schatz stood up. “See you in court, Terry, where I believe the judge will be much more interested in your explanation of why you eavesdropped than how I discovered your unethical and possibly illegal activity.”
B obby Schatz waited until he and Dana had left the DOJ before breaking into a grin.
“Terry looked like he had a serious case of indigestion,” Schatz said.
“What do you think he’ll do?” Dana asked.
“Cave. He’s got no choice,” Schatz said just as Dana’s cell phone rang.
Dana held up a finger and stepped into a doorway to take the call.
“I’m thinking of publishing an article about angels,” Pat Gorman said.
“I haven’t come across too many of them in my line of work,” Dana answered.
“Well, it’s about time you acquainted yourself with some of the more famous ones, like Simone Martini’s Angel of the Annunciation.”
“And where might I find her?”
“This angel is named Gabriel and he hangs out-quite literally-in the West Building of the National Gallery.”
T he National Gallery of Art, located on the National Mall, was established in 1937 by a joint resolution of Congress with funds for construction and a substantial collection donated by Andrew Mellon. The collection is housed in two buildings, the neoclassical West Building and the modern East Building, which are connected by an underground passage.
Dana located The Angel of the Annunciation in Gallery 3 on the main floor of the West Building. A school group had just moved on, leaving Dana in the gallery with two Japanese tourists. As soon as they finished looking at the painting, Dana walked over to the panel that presented a side view of the angel Gabriel kneeling, clothed in an ornate robe rich with textured gold.
Dana didn’t know the name of the man she was going to meet, so she thought of him as Gorman’s Spook. He hadn’t told her his name or anything about his background the first time they had met at the National Museum of the American Indian during her investigation into the assassination attempt on Justice Moss. The only thing she knew about the Spook was that he had deep knowledge of the intelligence community.
A minute after the Japanese tourists walked away, Dana sensed someone stand beside her. The man had a pale complexion. He was wearing a ski jacket over a sweatshirt with a hood. The hood was up and Dana could just see his brown eyes and thin lips.
“Martini was one of the most influential artists in the Sienese school,” said the Spook in a voice so low that Dana had to strain to hear him.
“Really,” answered Dana, who couldn’t care less.
“The Angel was originally half of a two-part panel he painted around 1333. Imran Afridi will never be a model for any painting of an angel.”
“And that is because?”
“Afridi is from a very wealthy Pakistani family with diverse holdings. He was educated at Cambridge and returned to Karachi with a degree in finance to work in the family businesses. He lives in a walled estate in one of Karachi’s wealthier suburbs and keeps a low profile. Even so, he is suspected of financing terrorist operations.”
“Why hasn’t he been arrested?”
“Afridi’s family is very influential. They have a lot of money, which means they have several politicians in their pocket. Two of his brothers are high-ranking military. No one is going to make a move on Afridi unless the evidence is indisputable.”
“Is there anything showing a connection between Afridi and the attempt to blow up FedEx Field?”
“The bombers have been thoroughly interrogated. The only person they could finger is your client and, as you know, he hasn’t given anyone the time of day.”
“Jessica Koshani is on a board with Afridi.”
“More than one, but she was conveniently murdered before she could be questioned by the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence.”
“So that’s why she was in Washington.”
“InCo, one of her companies, is suspected of laundering money for terrorists. She may have helped finance the FedEx operation, but there’s no way to prove that, now that Koshani is dead.”
