Gail waited for it. The dramatic exposition was wearying, but given the man’s years without human interaction, she tried not to show frustration.
“Do you keep track of Washington politics, Ms. Bonneville?”
“Quite the opposite, actually. I try very hard to avoid them.”
“Then perhaps you don’t remember the South Dakota senatorial campaign from that year. The one between Lincoln Hines and-”
“Didn’t he commit suicide?”
“So you do remember. Yes, the common assumption was that he had committed suicide, but there are those who say that he would never do such a thing. His family, for example.”
Gail rolled her eyes. “Ah, conspiracy theories. You gotta love ’em.”
“What was it that Henry Kissinger told Richard Nixon? Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that people aren’t trying to get you. You should look at some of the theories. Beyond what many say is a lack of suicidal motivation, there were issues with the positioning of the body, and with fibers found on his clothes and such.”
“As is frequently the case,” Gail said. Armchair detectives were the bane of every real investigator’s life. “Trust me. If those fibers and the rest were relevant, there would have been a prosecution.”
“How about if the prosecutor was of the same political party as the dead man’s opponent? And the sheriff in charge of the investigation, as well.”
Gail laughed at the absurdity of it. “So the opponent kills his competition and he just talks everyone into covering up his crime? Forgive me, Mr. Navarro, but it just doesn’t work that way.”
Navarro remained unfazed. “I’m not suggesting a conspiracy, necessarily. In fact, I’ll stipulate that it probably wasn’t such a thing. But perceptions inform assumptions, and assumptions drive investigations, do they not?”
“Of course, but-”
“Hear me out. People suggest that the candidate who officially died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound was in fact murdered. Among the most logical suspects would be the man who stood the most to lose. The incumbent, no less, whose departure would throw the political balance in the Senate to the opposing party. So, your highly placed, very dapper and charming suspect says that the charges are ridiculous, that he would easily have won the race, even though the poll numbers at the time indicated that such might not be the case. Besides, he had an ironclad alibi for the time of the killing. Under those circumstances, where would your investigative instincts likely take you?”
Gail inhaled deeply and let it go as a sigh. In every investigation, there are wild-ass theories that simply have to be discounted or ignored. Otherwise, no case would ever close. It happened, sometimes, that a discarded theory turned out to be the one that defined the actual events, but it was a rare occurrence. Still, more than a few innocents were paying undeserved penalties in American prisons, Frank Schuler among them, apparently.
Navarro smiled and pointed at her. “Not laughing now, I see. Think about what was at stake: A senator had killed his competition using the Slater organization as a go-between. Everything would have been fine. Only the deliveryman”-he raised his hand-“screwed up and left loose ends that needed to be tied.”
“Which senator are we talking about?” Gail asked. “I don’t remember which one’s from where.”
“Oh, he’s not a senator anymore,” Navarro said. “When the president was elected, the guy was selected to be secretary of defense.”
“Jacques Leger?” Gail said.
“Exactly. See, you do pay some attention to Washington politics.”
Gail paused. She didn’t want to believe it; but Navarro’s wild theories did explain some things. “So help me think this through,” she said. “Would Arthur Guinn be in a position to know all of this?”
“Absolutely. All the way down to the little details. He wouldn’t say anything if he hopes to see tomorrow, but he would definitely know.”
Gail didn’t share the fact that he would be sheltered by witness protection. “So, to keep him quiet-if only as added insurance-it would make sense to kidnap his child.”
“Absolutely. That or just have him killed outright.”
Gail nodded. “And Frank Schuler would have to be considered a loose end, too; just in case Marilyn had said something to him. Maybe they even think he has the money. But that’s a loose end that the Commonwealth of Virginia will take care of in a week or so.”
“That leaves his boy. Call it a long shot that he’d know anything, but in for a dime, in for a buck, right?” A shadow of concern fell over Navarro’s face. “You know, that boy is probably dead. If we’re right and this is the scenario, then there’s no reason to keep him alive.”
Indeed there wasn’t, Gail thought. Thus the reason they left him for dead.
“So, do you think I’m right?” Navarro pressed.
Holy shit. Did she think that a sitting secretary of defense ordered the murder of his senatorial rival? Did she think that the cover-up could involve kidnapping and more murder? Did she think that ambition could bring such darkness into a public servant’s soul? To think such things would sicken her.
“Yes,” she said. “I think that’s exactly what happened.”
Navarro smacked the table with both palms, a gesture of triumph. “Yes!” he proclaimed. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Interesting question, to which there was only one appropriate answer: “We set the record straight.”
The triumph drained from his face.
“We?”
Gail shrugged. “Okay. You, actually.”
Navarro laughed. “Like hell. I’ve gotten used to living.”
“The secretary of defense is a murderer. You can’t live with that.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve been living with it. He was every bit as much a murderer yesterday as he is today. The rest is not my problem.”
“I can arrange protection,” Gail said.
Navarro laughed harder. “Oh, you can, can you? That must be some private investigation firm you’re with.”
Gail didn’t retreat. “It is some private investigation firm I’m with. Certainly different than any you’ve heard of. We have connections.”
“Yeah, well, congratulations. I don’t. All I’ve got is me. I’ve come to care about me a lot these past years, and the more committed to me I’ve become, the less I care about anyone else. I gave you what you wanted. Now you take care of the rest.” He stood. The meeting was over. “Do travel home safely.”
Gail didn’t move. “Are you anxious to disappear all over again?”
He scowled. “What do you mean?” The way the color drained from his face, Gail figured he might have already figured it out.
“Mr. Navarro, there are some secrets that I just cannot keep. Not when the stakes are so high.”
“You mean you’d rat me out.”
“I don’t want to,” she said. She tried to keep a pleading tone in her voice. “But what choice would I have?”
“You could respect my openness and generosity and understand that I am in a very difficult position.”
Gail cocked her head. Surely he had to know better.
“I could kill you,” he said. “No one would ever find your body.”
She smiled. “All respect, I’d make you dead three times over before you got your finger on the trigger.”
“I could kill myself, then.”
Gail shook her head. “You’ve had years to kill yourself. The time has come for you to do the right thing.”
Navarro laughed. “Sure,” he said. “At this stage in my life I’m going to start-” His expression changed to one of concern, and he cocked his head. “Do you hear something?”
Gail cocked her head, too. At first, the answer was no, she didn’t hear a thing. Then she did-a very soft thrumming sound in the distance. In a city setting, it would have been inaudible, but out here, not only was it clear, but it was getting louder. “Helicopter?” she guessed.
Navarro shot to his feet, knocking over his chair. He snatched his shotgun from the counter with such speed that Gail found herself drawing down by instinct. “Don’t!” she yelled.
“What did you do?” Navarro yelled. “Who did you tell?”
