you're right… I'm stil crazy for listening to you.' He paused. 'But what about Leo? How did he know?'
'My guess is that Jack Wylie told him at some point; maybe not that he'd done it, but that there had been a plot and he knew who was involved. I guess too that with old age looming, and al it brings with it, the three of them, Wylie, Garrett and Wilkins, may have decided that at the very least they had to make a record of the truth. But they needed someone else, someone from that time who could vouch for them al; so Wylie approached Leo.
'They met up, in the Appalachians or wherever… and from that point they were done. I'll bet you, Joe, that these guys have been watched, from the day they left the Service.'
'Watched? By who?'
'By whoever set up the assassination. The CIA, the Mafia, another agency, I don't know; but they've been keeping tabs on these guys for the last thirty years and more.'
'Why not kil them back then?'
'Then kil the guys who killed them? Where would it end? How long before the last gullible American died and there was no one left to believe that Oswald did it? No, you don't take that risk til you have to.
But when those three guys, plus Leo Grace, the president's friend, got together, that time had come.
'They must have realised the danger, though; or at least Leo must have. Straight after that trip in January, he went out and bought those two automatics.'
There was a long silence. Skinner let it run its course. 'Kosinski,' said Doherty, after ful y two minutes. 'If it was Kosinski, why him, why someone in the Bureau?'
'Deniability. The organisation that planned or commissioned the hit wouldn't, then or now, use someone who led back to its door. But like I said, it may not have been Kosinski. He may be dead himself. Wait till they dig the bullet out of Wilkins: see if it's FBI issue.'
'And if it isn't?'
'Then there's a fair chance it'll have come from a Glock 19. Leo's second gun is missing.'
'What will that tell us?'
'Fuck all, except that it'll mean Kosinski could still be in the game.'
'Jeez. So how dp we investigate all this?'
'You want to investigate it?'
'Sure as hell, I do. I guess I'd better brief the director, though.'
'Can you trust the director?'
'Bob!'
'Could you trust Kosinski?'
'Aw hell. Okay, what do I do?'
'Use Special Agent Brand. Have him go through the bank and credit card records of the other three guys. I have access to all Leo's stuff. See if they tell you where they were in January. See what they tell you about those laptops. That's al for now.'
'Okay, I'l do that, and I'l ask for a copy of the Wilkins autopsy report.'
'No. You do the Wilkins autopsy through your own people. You have the authority; father and son murdered in different states makes it your business, yes?'
'You're catching on. I'll get Chicago on to that; be back in touch.'
'What about the Secret Service rosters?'
'Now you are being crazy. That stuff's off limits.'
'Tell me, Joe, aren't all records in the US computerised by now?'
'Pretty much.'
'And is the Bureau the only law enforcement agency in the US that doesn't know how to hack into a computer?'
'Bob, you didn't say that. I could have you deported just for thinking it, never mind suggesting it to a federal civil servant. I'll call you.'
Skinner hung up. The coffee filter had completed its programme, and the jug lay steaming on the hotplate, but he had forgotten his task entirely.
'Honey?'
Sarah's voice from the kitchen doorway brought him back into contact with his surroundings. 'Yes, sorry.'
'Bob, are you al right? You didn't seem with it there, and it's not the first time it's happened since I've arrived. I'm getting worried about you.'
'I'm fine, honest. I just had a call from Joe, that's all; I got wrapped up in it. I'l bring the coffee through now.'
'Forget it,' she said, lightly. 'lan had to leave. We thought you'd gone to Colombia for the beans.' She walked across to the work surface and picked up a mug. 'I'l have one now, though. You?'
He shook his head; unusual y, he found that he had no taste for coffee.
'Did Joe speak to his agent?' asked Sarah.
Bob looked down at her. When they had been reconciled after their split, part of their deal had been that there were to be no secrets between them, none of any sort. Yet something held him back from answering, held him back from telling her the whole story of Arthur Wilkins' murder, on the heels of Kosinski's visit and Doherty's phone call. Instinct told him to protect her from that knowledge, to protect her from it all… yet he did not know why.
'Not yet,' he answered, and left it at that; better to be economical with the truth than to bend it.
Even as he spoke, he saw something on her face that told him that she had a preoccupation of her own. He said nothing, leaving her to spit it out in her own time. He had to wait for little more than a minute, 222 watching her as she sipped her coffee, holding the mug in both hands.
'Bob,' she began. 'Remember when I was over here with Jazz…'
'How could I forget?' he chuckled. 'Much as I'd like to.'
'Yeah, me too; but that won't happen. I'd just hoped that it would al stay in the past.'
His smile turned into a frown. 'Yes?'
'The guy,' she said quietly, 'the man I had an affair with when we were apart.'
'The guy you worked beside in the hospital?'
'I didn't work beside him, exactly. He was a visiting consultant in another department; one that had nothing to do with me. But yes, the guy you mean, the guy I told you about; Terry. The thing is, he wants to meet me.'
'Does he now,' Bob murmured, his face unreadable.
'He cal ed Ian when he read about the murders. He knew that he and Babs are the best friends I have in Buffalo, and he asked Ian to pass on his condolences. He said also that he'd like to express them in person, if I'd be prepared to meet him.'
'And do you want to?'
'No, I don't; I hoped I'd never see him again. But…'
He held up a hand. 'Listen, Sarah,' he said, firmly. 'You told me about you and him; you hit me over the head with it, in fact. Yes, you told me why you let it happen: you did it to put us on an equal footing in the infidelity stakes, you said, and I've always forced myself to see it that way. Yet when you boil it al down, that's just an elegant way of saying that you did it to get even with me. To be dead honest, I wish you'd put it that way from the start.'
She looked away from him. 'If that's the way you want to see it, fine,' she snapped.
'Okay, let's cut away the soft words and tell the truth of it. You wrecked our marriage because you were wrapped up in your job and your obsessions, and eventual y, wrapped up in screwing your lady detective sergeant. You didn't have the guts to tel me that at the time though; you just froze me out of your life.
'So I came over here; I missed you every moment, waking and sleeping, and worse, my self-esteem was in pieces. Then someone took an interest in me. He wasn't pushy, he wasn't devious, he saw me as an attractive, unattached woman and he told me so. Better than that, he made me feel attractive again. When I slept with him, I had decided, more or less, to go back to Scotland, but yes, you're right, I did feel that it evened the score between us, whether you want to put it bluntly, or gently, as I tried to.
