being transferred from Florence ADMAX to the La Tuna facility near El Paso. Otherwise he says he’s going on
“And what does he think he has?”
“That the convicted murderer of three DEA agents is being transferred to a minimum-security institution.”
“How does he know that?”
“I have no idea. I’m just telling you what I know, and asking what I should do about Mr. Danton.”
“Just a moment, please.”
Twenty seconds later, the President of the United States barked: “What the hell is going on, Crenshaw?”
The attorney general told him.
“I want to know who told that sonofabitch Danton about the transfer!”
“I have no idea, Mr. President.”
“Well, some disloyal sonofabitch obviously did, and I want to know who.”
“Mr. President, I have no idea.”
“Goddamn it, you should! You’re the attorney general; you’re in charge of the FBI. I don’t care what you or Mark Schmidt have to do, just find out what disloyal sonofabitch did this to me.”
“Yes, sir. And what would you like me to say to Mr. Danton, Mr. President?”
The President considered the question for a long moment. “I’m going to let McCarthy handle that,” he said finally. “But you and Schmidt get your asses over here right now. McCarthy might need you.”
The President hung up.
SEVEN
1650 18 April 2007
“Good afternoon, Madam Secretary,” the DCI said. “And how were things in sunny Meh-hee-co?”
“Why does your ebullience worry me, Frank?” Natalie Cohen replied.
“The problem of swapping Colonel Ferris for Felix Abrego may be solved. I just got off the phone with Stanley Crenshaw. He is probably at this moment telling the President what he told me.”
“Which was?”
“Roscoe J. Danton gave him until five minutes to nine tonight to explain why ol’ Felix has been transferred to the La Tuna Country Club, otherwise he goes on
Cohen didn’t reply.
“I take back all the unkind things I ever said about devious diplomats,” Lammelle said. “That was pure genius.”
“What are you talking about?” she said.
“Well, Clendennen can’t send Abrego to Mexico now, can he?”
“How did Danton find out?” she asked.
“What is that, ‘credible deniability’? Your secret is safe with me, Natalie.”
“I didn’t tell Danton, if that’s what you’ve been thinking.”
“Then who the hell did? That’s a very interesting question, Natalie. Who knew besides Stanley and me? And possibly Mark Schmidt?”
“I was not taken into the President’s confidence in this matter. I heard it from Schmidt. Do you think Schmidt told Roscoe?”
“No. That would be committing career suicide,” he said. “And he likes being director. That leaves Stanley, and that doesn’t make sense. Did Montvale know? Or Truman Ellsworth?”
“I’ve learned from painful experience that Charles Montvale often knows more than one presumes he does,” the secretary of State said. “And that’s equally true of Mr. Ellsworth. Who would actually move Abrego? The FBI? The Bureau of Prisons?”
“The U.S. Marshals,” Lammelle said. “And when Montvale was director of National Intelligence, he was over the Marshal Service.”
“But why would Montvale tell Roscoe Danton? To embarrass the President?”
She was silent a moment, then offered: “Montvale would tell Danton-but
“So, we’re back to: Then who?”
“I don’t know, Frank. But I think it behooves us to make a serious effort to find out. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a connection with the coup d’etat business.”
“I’ll see what I can find out.”
EIGHT
1655 18 April 2007
“Mental telepathy, Frank,” Charley Castillo said. “I was just this moment thinking of calling you.”
“To tell me, a little late, that you told Roscoe that Clendennen’s moving Abrego to the La Tuna facility outside El Paso?”
“No shit? I didn’t know that. Who the hell told Roscoe?”
When Lammelle didn’t answer, Castillo said: “Well, what I was going to ask is what I should tell the cops if I’m arrested stealing my Black Hawk back?”
“What?”
“Before, I thought it might be nice to have in case I needed it; now I know I have to have it, preferably late tomorrow afternoon, when I get back to the States.”
“Why do you have to have it?” Lammelle said, and immediately regretted it.
“Frank, I don’t think you really want to know. Do you?”
“Yes, I do, Charley.”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind? Who told Roscoe what?”
“Roscoe called the attorney general about an hour ago and gave him until five minutes before Andy McClarren goes on Wolf News tonight to explain why Felix Abrego is being transferred from Florence ADMAX to a minimum- security prison near El Paso.”
“Okay, I’ll ask again: How the hell did Roscoe hear about that?”
“Until just now, I thought maybe you told him.”
“Not me. Natalie Cohen?”
“No. The suspect right now is Montvale, but why would he do that?”
“If that story gets out, Clendennen can’t send Abrego to Mexico,” Castillo said thoughtfully.
“Because it would be irrational, right? Think that through, Charley.”
“Jesus!” Castillo said, and a moment later asked, “Frank, that letter Clendennen wants President Whatsisname of Mexico. .”
“Martinez,” Lammelle furnished. “Notice what? Natalie and I aren’t quite sure what to think about it.”
“Didn’t either of you think there was something strange in Clendennen wanting
“That went right over my head,” Lammelle said after a moment. “And Natalie’s, too, or else she would have
