front of them, on the way to parking. Teddy exchanged a wave with the instructor, sitting in the righthand seat. “I’ve talked to that guy a couple of times,” Teddy said to Lauren. “He’s trying to get me to become a part-time instructor here. The FBO has a busy little flying school.”
“Why don’t you do that?” Lauren asked, driving behind the airplane toward the exit gate.
“Tell you what I’d rather do,” Teddy said. “I’d rather teach you to fly.”
“Me, fly?”
“I think you’d enjoy it. As soon as I get the airplane back together, let me give you a few lessons. If you don’t like it, we’ll forget about it.” Teddy was concerned about her becoming bored in their new location.
“Okay, I’ll give it a whirl,” she said.
They drove out to a mall, lunched at a little restaurant, and went to see
Back at Clinton Field, they let themselves through the security gate with the card they had been given, then had to slow again for the same plane they’d seen earlier.
“That stude>h tnt seems to be taking two lessons a day,” Teddy said. “That’s quite a load of work.”
“He must have a lot of time on his hands,” Lauren said. “Maybe he’s too rich to work.”
“Maybe so,” Teddy replied.
30
Stone and Dino sat in a borrowed office in the West Wing of the White House and gazed at the middle-aged Filipino woman who sat across the desk from them. She was fidgeting a little, and there was a film of perspiration on her forehead. She was the fourth of the four White House maids who cleaned the family quarters, the first three having been a waste of time to question.
“Mrs. Feliciano,” Stone said, “we’d like to talk with you for a few minutes about your work.”
“I try very hard to do the best job I can,” the woman said. “I hope there haven’t been any complaints.”
“Oh, no,” Stone said, “nothing like that. We’re just interested in some of the visitors you may have encountered in the family quarters.”
“Does the president know you’re talking to me?” the woman asked.
“Yes, he does. We’re speaking to you at his request.”
“The president told you to talk to
“No, Mrs. Feliciano, not just you. We’re talking to all the maids who work in the family quarters to get a few questions answered.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief. “Well, I don’t know anything,” she said. “I just clean.”
Stone smiled and tried again to put her at ease. “How long have you worked at the White House?” he asked.
“Twelve and a half years,” she replied.
“And how long have you cleaned the family quarters?”
“A little over three years.”
“Good. Now think back over the past two years or so. Have you, when you were cleaning upstairs, ever seen anyone in the quarters who did not belong there?”
“Oh, no, sir, the Secret Service people would never allow any unauthorized persons in the quarters.”
“How about authorized persons, like the cooks and repairmen?”
“Oh, yes, I see them all the time.”
“How about Mr. Kendrick? Did you ever see him in the quarters?”
“Mr. Brix? Oh, yes, many times.”
“What would he be doing when you saw him?”
“Well, he would sometimes bring in people from the outside, like to install new carpets or curtains, or he would supervise when they put in a new TV, or once, a new ice machine.”
“Did you ever see Mr. Brix in the quarters with a lady?”
“Sometimes the people he brought in would be a lady.”
“Did you ever see Mr. Brix and a lady go into or come out of one of the upstairs bedrooms?”
The woman looked more thoughtful. “Sometimes.”
“Do you remember who any of the ladies were?”
h ked more dth='1em'>“He sometimes brought the White House decorator upstairs.”
“And what is the decorator’s name?”
“Miss Charles,” she replied. “I don’t know her first name.”
“Did you ever see Mr. Brix take Miss Charles into one of the bedrooms?”
“I guess … I’m not sure.” Then her face changed, as she seemed to remember something. “Oh,” she said, “do you mean go into a bedroom and close the door?”
“Did you ever see Mr. Brix and Miss Charles go into a bedroom and close the door?”
“No,” she replied, “but once I…” She flushed a little.
“Go on, Mrs. Feliciano.”
“I don’t want to get anybody in trouble,” she said.
“Don’t worry, no one will get into trouble.”
“Well, once I saw that happen, but it wasn’t Miss Charles.”
“Who was the lady?”
“I don’t know. I went upstairs once to bring some linens that had come back from the laundry. It was early in the afternoon, when I’m not usually in the quarters. I clean in the mornings.”
“Go on.”
“Well, I was in the linen closet, putting away some sheets, and I heard some voices-a man and a woman. They were laughing. I stepped out of the closet just in time to see two people go into the Lincoln Bedroom. One of them, the man, was Mr. Brix.”
“And the other?”
“I couldn’t tell. I just saw her back for a second before Mr. Brix closed the door.”
“Think back. Is there anything at all you can remember about the woman? Tall or short? Heavy or slim? Blonde or brunette?”
She closed her eyes for a long moment, then she opened them. “No,” she said.
“What did you do then?”
She looked a little embarrassed. “I won’t get into trouble?”
“No, Mrs. Feliciano, you won’t get into trouble. Please be honest with us, this is very important.”
“Well . . . I went into the bedroom next door, into the bathroom that’s just next to the Lincoln Bedroom, and I . . .”
“Go on.”
“Well . . . I picked up the tooth glass and put it against the wall and put my ear to it. I could hear them talking.”
“And what were they saying?”
She flushed even more. “They … it was sexy talk.”
“Can you repeat exactly what they said? Don’t be embarrassed, it’s important.”
“I heard her say, ‘I want it,’ and he said, ‘Don’t worry, I’m going to give it to you.’ And then they were on the bed. I could hear the bed squeaking. I think they were … doing it.”
“What do you think they were doing?”
“What a man and a woman do in the bedroom.”
“Did you hear them say anything else?”
“No, just noises, like. Happy noises.”
“What did you do then?”
“I cleaned the glass, then I got out of the quarters. I didn’t want to be there when they came out of the
