Room immediately!”
Coleman was back behind the wheel of the BMW and was less than excited about
Michael’s dumping spot. Originally, Coleman had planned on taking Arthur’s body out to sea. He thought they had pressed their luck enough for the evening, and Michael’s idea was far from cautious.
Michael wanted to leave Arthur’s body where it would be found-where they could send a message. Burning Tree Country Club was less than ten minutes from Michael’s house. As they neared the golf course, Coleman said for the third time, “You know, the
Secret Service will be watching his house.”
“I know. I’m not planning on leaving him at the front gate. He has a corner lot. We can leave the body around by the side. We’ll drive by the house once and check out the security.”
“You’ve been in the house before?”
“Yes. Senator Muetzel used to live there.
After Muetzel lost in the last election, Garret bought it from him.”
Michael looked over at Coleman and said, “I want to show these bastards that we’re willing to go to the media with this thing. If we end up releasing the tape, leaving
Arthur’s body at his house will give it more meaning. Besides, it’ll make Garret and
Nance sweat.”
“That’s true.”
They reached the ritzy neighborhood several minutes later, and Michael directed
Coleman to the house. It was a large Tudor with a wrought-iron fence that ran around the entire yard. They drove slowly past the front gate, where a Ford sedan was parked across the driveway.
Two men were sitting in the front seat and one camera was over the gate. Coleman took a left at the end of the property and turned down the next street. On this side of the house the fence was lined with trees and bushes. “What do you think?” asked Michael. “I
think it’s doable.” Coleman pulled a U-turn in the middle of the road and stopped the car on the same side of the street as Garret’s house. He turned off the lights and looked down the tree-lined side street. Michael tugged on his thin leather gloves and said, “I’m ready when you are.”
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Coleman took his foot off the brake and the car slowly rolled forward.
When they reached the back edge of the property line, Michael pulled the fuse so the dome and brake lights wouldn’t come on. Coleman told Michael to pop the trunk and he did.
While the car was still rolling, Michael jumped out and opened the trunk. He tossed the blankets to the side and scooped the dead body out of the trunk. The fence was only fifteen feet from the curb.
Michael ran the short distance and set Arthur down, propping him up against the wrought-iron bars. Yanking the green garbage bag off his head, Michael threw it on the ground and jumped back in the car.
Coleman spun the car around and sped away. Grabbing the mobile scramble phone out of the backseat, Michael punched in the phone number for the local NBC affiliate.
After several rings, someone answered on the other end.
“Newsroom.”
“Listen to me carefully.” Michael spoke in a slow, precise tone.
“This is not a prank. There is a dead man at Stu Garret’s house.
The man’s name is Arthur Higgins. He is a former employee of the CIA.
The body can be found by the fence on the north side of the house. The address is 469
Burning Tree Lane.”
“Who is this?” asked an eager voice.
“How do I know this isn’t a prank?”
“You don’t, but you’d better get one of your news crews out there as quick as you can, because I’m calling the other two networks right now.”
Michael pushed a button ending the call and immediately dialed the next number. The next two calls went about the same as the first. The more Michael thought about it, the more he knew the news directors couldn’t resist investigating. A dead former CIA
employee found on the property of the President’s chief of staff would make for juicy news. The only catch was that the news crews had to get there before the Secret Service found the body. As they neared Georgetown, Michael said, “Things are going to get really hairy. This might be our last chance to talk for a while. If the FBI is on your tail, call my pager and punch in nine seven times.”
“What are you going to do with the tape?”
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“I’m not sure. I’ll figure something out. Pull over up here.”
Coleman pulled over and offered his hand. Michael took it and said, “Lay low until things cool down.” Michael slammed the door, and the car sped off.
