“I
“Does that prevent you from negotiating?”
Gable stifled another cough. “I’m proud to say that in my entire career, I have never turned down a request to negotiate.”
“Then listen. Obviously things have gotten way out of hand. You never expected me to stay alive this long. You never expected so many other people to become involved.”
The only sound was Gable’s labored breathing.
“You’ve destroyed my life,” Pittman said. “But I know enough to be able to destroy yours. Let’s call it a stalemate. I think it’s in our mutual best interests if I disappear. With a retirement fund. A million dollars and a passport that gives me a safe name.”
“That’s a substantial retirement fund.”
“But that’s my price. Also a safe passport for Jill Warren.”
“Passports are difficult.”
“Not with your contacts in the State Department. Think about it. I disappear. Your cover-up works. No more problems for you.”
“If I agree to the meeting you propose, I want it completely understood that I don’t admit any involvement in your false accusations about cover-ups and murders. We’re discussing hypothetical matters.”
“Whatever makes you feel good, Mr. Gable.”
“I’ll need time to consider the implications.”
“And I’ve been on this line too long. I’ll call back at ten A.M.”
3
Mrs. Page opened the door the moment Pittman knocked on it. Her designer dress was wrinkled and looked out of place in a motel early in the morning. Otherwise, she appeared alert and determined, her skin-tucked face severe with intensity. “Did you watch the morning news?”
“About Standish’s suicide?” Pittman nodded.
“He was always the weakest of the five. My father was the strongest. We have to keep putting pressure on him.”
“This morning, I started again.”
“How?” Mrs. Page asked quickly.
Pittman explained.
“Be careful. My father is a master of manipulation.”
“And arrogant about it. I’m counting on that,” Pittman said. “I’m hoping that it’s inconceivable to him that someone could outmanipulate him.”
“But
“If I could think of another way, I’d do it. We can’t just hide. We have to keep pushing them. We have to go back to Washington. I’ve got several stops to make. In particular, I need to see two other people I once interviewed.”
“Who?”
“A security expert and a weapons specialist. I’ll explain as we drive.”
“But what if they remember you?” Mrs. Page asked. “If they connect you with the newspaper stories and television reports…”
“I interviewed them at least five years ago. I was heavier. I had a mustache. There’s a good chance they won’t recognize me. But even if the risk was greater, I’d still have to take it. I can’t make this plan work without their help.”
As they spoke, Pittman walked to the next door and knocked on it. When George came out, they went down concrete steps to where Jill was waiting at the car.
“Give me your room keys. I’ll leave them at the desk and check everybody out,” George said.
“Fine. We’ll meet you at the restaurant down the street,” Jill said.
“Restaurant?” Mrs. Page looked horrified. “That’s not a restaurant.”
“Okay, it’s a Roy Rogers. Think of it as a broadening experience. We’re so pressed for time, we’ll have to eat takeout as we drive.”
“Time. Yes. We have to make time for something else,” Mrs. Page insisted. “We have to see about Bradford. We have to go to the hospital.”
4
Amid the drone of fluorescent lights and the pungent odor of antiseptics, Pittman frowned in response to Jill’s frown as she came back from speaking to a nurse at the counter outside the cardiac-care unit.
“What’s the matter?” Pittman’s hands suddenly felt cold. “Don’t tell me he died.”
“He’s gone.”
Mrs. Page stepped forward, ashen. “He
“I mean he literally isn’t here. He’s gone. He left,” Jill said. “The nurse looked in on him at five A.M. His bed was empty. He’d pulled an IV needle from his arm. He’d turned off his heart monitor so it wouldn’t sound a warning when he pulled the sensor pads from his chest. His clothes were in a cupboard in his room. He put them on and snuck out of the hospital.”
“It’s a wonder he had the strength,” Pittman said. “What the hell did he think he was doing?”
George shook his head. “Last night, it was exhaustion. But if he’s not careful, he’ll give himself a heart attack.”
“Obviously he believes the risk is worth it,” Jill said. “To get back at them. The remaining two grand counselors. I can’t imagine anything else that would have made him act so obsessively.”
“Damn it, now we’ve got a wild card out there,” Pittman said. “He’s so out of control, he scares me. God knows what he might do to interfere with our plan.”
“But we can’t let him worry us,” Mrs. Page said. “We have to go ahead. Why are you looking at me like that?”
Pittman stepped forward. “Mrs. Page, how are your connections with the
5
Eight hours later, in midafternoon, Pittman was back in Fairfax, Virginia, quickly passing through it, taking 29 west, then 15 north toward Eustace Gable’s estate. During his second telephone call to Gable, which Pittman had made exactly at ten as promised, using a pay phone in Washington, Gable had given him instructions how to get to the estate. As Pittman drove toward the rendezvous, squinting from the sun, he glanced toward his rearview mirror and was reassured to see that despite congested traffic, the gray Ford van remained behind him, Jill visible behind the steering wheel. The van and the equipment inside it had been rented using George’s credit card, and Pittman thought morbidly that George certainly deserved a bonus, the trick being for all of them to stay alive so he could receive it. Pittman passed farms and strips of woods, the sunlight making them seem golden, and he prayed that he would have a chance to see them again, to see Jill again. He thought about Jeremy, and as much as he missed his son, he felt strangely close to him, as if Jeremy were with him, helping him. Give me strength, son.
As instructed, Pittman came to a sign-EVERGREEN COUNTRY CLUB-then headed to the left, trees casting shadows from the sun. A mile later, he went right, along an oak-lined gravel road. This time when he glanced
