“Oh, you exaggerate.”
“No, I’ve been petty and small and stupid. To be honest-you intimidate me, Nichole. More than just a little.”
She pressed a hand against her ample bosom. “Who, me?”
“Yeah, you. I may be stupid-but I’m not blind. In Baltimore, you showed me what you really are-a hero. If you don’t mind, I’d like to shake your hand.”
“I would be honored,” Muldoon said, extending hers.
“The honor is mine.”
Something was bothering Ben as he observed this moment of reconciliation. Something that he had heard since he left the Senate chamber, or seen, or Something. But he couldn’t place it. He’d had this sensation before: the nagging feeling that there was something he was missing, something on the tip of his brain that he just hadn’t processed yet. It was irritating, not only because it reminded him how slow-witted he could be, but because he knew he would obsess over it for hours on end until Until he remembered.
“Oh my God,” he said sotto voce. “Oh no.”
Christina laid a hand on his arm. “What is it?”
Ben’s face went white. “I think I’ve made a terrible mistake. I think we all have.”
“Ben, what are you talking about?”
Without explanation, Ben moved toward the door. “Thanks for the party, Chris-but I’ve got to get out of here.”
Christina dogged his heels. “To go where?”
“To have a little talk with the director of Homeland Security.”
“I’m not sure he’ll see you.”
“I don’t plan to give him any choice. He’s got some serious explaining to do.”
“Ben, the amendment controversy is over. It’s dead and buried.”
“This has nothing to do with the amendment.” He threw on his jacket. “This has to do with murder.”
“Ben, what’s going on?”
“No time to explain.” He kissed her on the cheek, then raced out the door.
“Ben, don’t you dare run off without telling me-”
But before she could even finish the threat, he was across the hallway and down the stairs.
“Damn,” she muttered under her breath. She walked angrily back to the party. “I hate it when he does that.”
57
“T hank you for seeing me,” Ben said as he entered Carl Lehman’s office. “I appreciate it. I…wasn’t sure what to expect.”
Lehman stood and shook his hand. His face was bandaged and bruised, but mostly functional. “I’m not one to hold grudges, son. The amendment is dead. Time to move on.”
“That…wasn’t exactly what I meant.”
“Oh?” He pointed to a nearby chair. “Please take a seat.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind. I think better on my feet.” Which was true, he had learned over the years. And right now, he really needed to be able to think.
“What’s the problem?”
“My problem is…” Ben took a deep breath. “I saw your assistant, Nichole Muldoon, a little while ago.”
“Why is that a problem? She give you one of those patented I-can-see-through-your-clothes looks of hers?”
“No. But she said something. She reminded me how much inside information the sniper seemed to have, during both attacks. Even if you assume he tortured some information out of your predecessor, he was still uncommonly knowledgeable about Secret Service procedures. Who would be doing what and when. Where the security detail would be stationed. How to find the sniper nest he eliminated. How to plan an escape route. We’ve always said he needed inside information.”
“He was working with Senator DeMouy.”
“And I’m sure that was helpful, but in the end, I don’t think the assistance of a politician would cut it. He had access to information he could only have gotten from someone working in or with the Secret Service. That’s the only way he could have gotten as far as he did.”
Lehman leaned slowly forward. “What are you saying?”
Ben began to pace. “I’ve always been troubled by the suggestion that Senator DeMouy masterminded the attacks. Did he really have the know-how? Would his co-conspirators have continued with the plan after his death? Doesn’t make any sense. And to imagine that he did all this just to position himself for the White House? Troubling.”
Lehman batted his lips with his index finger. “I’ll admit, I’ve had difficulty with that part of it myself. But I assumed there was more to it that we hadn’t uncovered yet.”
“Did you?” Ben asked, staring at him intently. “Did you really?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
This was where it was likely to get sticky. In Ben’s experience, people rarely liked being accused of murder. Especially if they were guilty.
“If this wasn’t about stacking the deck at the next presidential election, what was it about? Wanton violence? Seems too well planned. Regime change? Nah. Grudge against Emily Blake? I considered that, especially when I learned what everyone else in Washington apparently already knew, that she was having an affair. But I couldn’t believe anyone would arrange a major assassination attempt and kill all those people just to eliminate the first lady. The person who orchestrated the attacks in Oklahoma City and Baltimore was seriously trying to stir up terror-to make the American people feel weak and poorly defended. Vulnerable.”
Lehman was squinting, as if his difficulty understanding translated into difficulty seeing. “Who would want to do that?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No, it isn’t.”
“The only person who would benefit from instilling terror-is someone who really wanted that constitutional amendment to pass.”
If Ben were hoping for a big reaction, or perhaps a confession, he was disappointed. “Nah,” Lehman said succinctly.
“Excuse me?”
Lehman shrugged. “Doesn’t make any sense. Don’t you remember? The president didn’t propose the amendment until after Oklahoma City.”
“That doesn’t mean someone couldn’t have already dreamed it up. And staged Oklahoma City to get it on the agenda and to ensure its passage.”
“But who would do such a thing?”
“Who benefits most?” Ben said. He stopped pacing and hovered over Lehman’s desk. “I would say the person who becomes the chair of the Emergency Council. The person who leads the small committee that has the ability to give and take fundamental human rights as they unilaterally see fit.” Ben paused. “And that would be the director of Homeland Security. You.”
Lehman went bug-eyed. “Are you kidding? Me?”
