direct police inquiries to me through the State Department switchboard. Have you got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then I want you to go back to work, doing what you would ordinarily be doing. When you get into Owen’s office, I want you to search his desk and file cabinets for any reference to the assignment he gave you. If you find anything referring to it, I want you to scan it and e-mail it to me, then shred any documents and, particularly, the photograph of the man. We already have that.”
“Who is he, sir?”
“Whoever he says he is,” Lance said, then hung up.
Holly looked at Lance expectantly but didn’t ask any questions.
“Teddy Fay has killed Owen Masters in Panama City,” Lance said.
“Oh, shit,” Holly said.
“Yes, exactly,” Lance replied. “Who do we have of station head rank, currently unassigned?”
“You want to promote somebody, or do you want another Owen Masters?”
Lance thought about that for a moment. “Another Owen Masters,” he said.
“There’s Terence Cotten. We pulled him out of Madrid a month ago, and he’s sitting downstairs in a transient office, working his way through a book of New York Times crosswords, waiting for his pension.”
“Perfect. Get him up here in half an hour. Right now, I have to go and see the director.”
“Are you going to tell her Teddy’s back?”
“Teddy who?” Lance asked, getting into his jacket.
49
Lance had to wait for ten minutes while Katharine Rule Lee finished A meeting, which gave him more time to think. Finally, he was told to go in.
“Sit down, Lance. What is it?” the director asked.
“Director, I’ve just had a call from the assistant station chief in Panama City. Owen Masters has been shot in the street by an assassin. He’s dead.”
“Good God!” the director replied. “I knew Owen when he was a top agent.”
“He was, for quite a long time.”
“How long before retirement?”
“Four months, give or take.”
“What’s your theory of this, Lance?”
“I haven’t spoken to the police yet, but I don’t think this is Agency related. Owen wasn’t working on anything that would have gotten him killed.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I am, unless he was working something on his own, and frankly, I think Owen was too tired to go chasing hares. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless he went off the ranch-trying to make some extra retirement money.”
“Drugs?”
“Possibly. From what I’ve been told, the killing sounded professional. He must have pissed off somebody.”
“Have you talked to his widow?”
“Not yet. I want to let embassy and State Department protocol run its course first. I should be able to speak to her before the day is out.”
“What insurance will Owen have?”
“He’ll have the standard Agency policy, based on his pay grade.”
“What about line-of-duty fatality?”
“If he was really off the ranch, he wouldn’t qualify for that.”
“I’d like Mrs. Masters to have that, if we can manage it.”
“Then I’ll manage it,” Lance said. That was a fairly direct order to cover up any off-ranch activity, he thought.
“Keep me posted,” the director said, then turned to answer her buzzing phone.
Lance went back to his office, where Holly was still waiting. She handed him a phone slip. “You had a call from the Panamanian police on your State Department line,” she said.
Lance picked up the phone, then paused and put it down again. He had an idea.
“Okay.”
Lance phoned Capitбn Lуpez.
“Seсor Cabot,” Lуpez said, “I believe you may have already been notified of the death of your diplomat, Seсor Owen Masters.”
“Yes,” Lance replied. “We’re all deeply shocked. What can you tell me of his death?”
“Seсor Cabot, do you have any reason to suspect that Seсor Masters might be involved in any… financial activity not related to his work at the embassy?”
“No, do you?”
“The nature of his death suggests other connections.”
Oh, come on, say it! Lance wanted to scream at the man. “What sort of connections are you referring to, Capitбn?”
“The means used to end the gentleman’s life are often associated with the drug trade in this country, seсor.”
Lance paused meaningfully, then said, “I see.”
“I do not wish you to think I am making any accusations, Seсor Cabot,” Lуpez said. “I am merely making an observation based on my long experience as a police officer.”
“I understand, Capitбn,” Lance replied. “Perhaps you could tell me, privately, what chance you believe you might have to find this killer?”
“Oh, we will make a thorough investigation, seсor, you may believe that. But… at the end of it all it is unlikely in the extreme that we will be able to make an arrest, let alone secure a conviction. In cases like this, you see…”
“I quite understand, Capitбn, and while we would, of course, be glad to hear that Mr. Masters’s killer had been caught and punished, we are cognizant of the difficulties involved in such a case. I would be grateful if you could forward a copy of your final report to me through the embassy.”
“Of course, seсor.”
“I would ask you, in your report, to be aware that his widow will read it and not to include any unsupported supposition that might cause her distress.”
“Of course, Mr. Cabot. You may be assured that I will be discreet.”
Lance thanked the man and hung up, still thinking fast.
“Terrence Cotten will be here shortly,” Holly said.
“Call him and tell him to go back to his crosswords,” Lance said. “There’s no point in sending another man down there for just a few months.” He got on his computer and consulted his classified telephone directory, then made the call.
“Todd Bacon,” the youthful voice said.
“Scramble,” Lance replied.
“Scramble.”
“Todd, it’s Lance Cabot.”
“Yes, sir.”
