“Did
“When you fell from heaven.”
She smiled and said, “I hope you never used that line.”
“That’s not a line.” I ordered a Dewar’s-and-soda and said to her, “You look familiar.”
She smiled again and replied, “I’m new in town.”
I replied, “Me, too. My ship just came in. Actually, it was the Staten Island ferry.”
My Scotch arrived, and we clinked glasses. She asked, “Where were you?”
“I just told you. Staten Island.”
“Oh, I thought that was a joke.”
“I don’t make jokes. I was in Staten Island.”
“Why?”
“Looking for a house for us. Did you ever think about having children?”
“I… I have thought about it. Why do you ask?”
“I’m pregnant.”
She patted my gut and said, “So I see.” She asked, “What’s with the house and kids?”
“I just interviewed a female cop on Staten Island-home on maternity leave. She was ATTF back in ’96. She did witness interviews at the Bayview Hotel.”
“Really? How did you find her?”
“I can find anyone.”
“You can’t find two socks that match. What did she say?”
“She interviewed a maid who saw this guy who apparently took the room blanket to the beach. The maid saw his lady, too.”
Kate thought about that and asked me, “Did your friend know if the FBI identified this couple?”
“Not as far as she knew. The guy checked in under an alias.” I sipped my drink.
Kate asked, “What else did you learn from this lady?”
“I learned that the three Federal agents who were running this show didn’t share anything with the four NYPD detectives who were doing the legwork. But I already knew that.”
She didn’t reply.
I looked at her and said, “Meanwhile, tell me how this Westhampton police report about the blanket on the beach happened to come to your attention.”
She didn’t reply for a few seconds, then said, “Just by accident. I was going through a lot of reports one night in my motel room, and this one caught my eye.”
“Try again.”
“Okay… Ted and I were having drinks one night, and he mentioned this to me. I think he had too much to drink.”
I was pissed off beyond belief, but I got myself under control and said very nicely, “You told me you never discussed this with him.”
“Sorry.”
“What else have you lied to me about?”
“Nothing. I swear.”
“Why did you lie to me?”
“I… I just didn’t think it was important for you to know where I got that information. I know how you are when it comes to any mention of Ted Nash.”
“Really? How am I?”
“Psychotic.”
“Bullshit.”
We were attracting a little attention because I think I was raising my voice above the barroom din. The bartender said to us, “Everything okay here?”
Kate replied, “Yes.” She said to me, “Let’s go.”
“No. I like it here. Tell me what else you forgot to tell me. Now.”
Kate kept her cool, but I could see she was upset. I was not upset-I was fuming. “Talk.”
“Don’t browbeat me. You’re not-”
“Talk. And no bullshit.”
She took a deep breath and said, “Okay… but it’s not what you think-”
“Never mind what I think.”
“All right… Ted worked the TWA case, too, as you may know by now… and I knew him from the office… but we were never involved, which I told you a dozen times, and which is the truth.”
“Then why did he tell you about this blanket on the beach, and the video camera lens cap if this wasn’t your case?”
“I’m not sure… but we were having drinks one night at a local bar… about a week after the crash, and he was drinking too much… we all were… and he mentions this local police report and he says something like, ‘This couple was probably taping themselves having sex on the beach, and they may have videotaped the explosion.’ I asked him some questions, and he clammed up. Next day he called me and says they found this couple, and they were an older, married couple and the lens cap was from a regular still camera, not a video camera, and this couple didn’t see or photograph anything to do with the explosion.” She stirred her drink.
“Go on.”
“Okay, so it’s pretty obvious he’s sorry he opened his mouth the night before, and I say, ‘Well, too bad,’ or something like that, and we drop it. But I go to the Westhampton Village police, and they say the FBI was already there and took the written report, and they’re still waiting for the FBI to return a copy of it.” She added, “They’re probably still waiting. But I got the name of the cop who was on the beach and who wrote the report, and I talked to him and he’s not sure he should be talking to me, but he fills me in and mentions that he told the FBI that this blanket may have come from a hotel or motel. I’m up to my ears in witness interviews, so I didn’t follow up, and to be honest, I didn’t see any reason to. It was being handled by Ted and others. But a week or so later, I’m back in the office for a few days, and I made some phone calls to local motels and hotels, as I told you, and I hit this one- the Bayview-and talked to this manager, Leslie Rosenthal, who informed me that the FBI had already been there with this blanket, and they had spoken to his staff and guests. Rosenthal says that the FBI guy in charge never told him anything except that he wasn’t supposed to talk about this to anyone.” She looked at me and said, “That’s it.”
“Who was the FBI guy in charge?”
“Liam Griffith. I’m sure you already know that from your Staten Island connection.”
“That’s right, but why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Because, I told you up front-no names. That’s why I didn’t tell you about Ted.”
“So, what did you do with this information from Mr. Rosenthal?”
“Nothing. What was I going to do with it? I did think about it, but before I thought too much about it, I got called into the OPR office, as I told you.” She finished her drink and said, “I’m sure that Ted knew that I had been nosing around and that I got a reprimand for it, but does he say, ‘Hey, I’m sorry I mentioned this to you?’ No, he just starts acting cool to me.”
“Oh, poor baby.”
“John, fuck off. I have nothing to hide and nothing to be ashamed of. Just drop it.”
“You lied to me.”
“Right. I lied to you to avoid a fucking scene like this. What difference does it make how I got the information I got? Ninety-nine percent of what I told you is true, and what I didn’t tell you didn’t affect anything you did or knew. So, be happy now that you know Ted Nash is just as stupid when he’s drunk as you and everyone else. Okay?”
I didn’t reply and just stood there, still pretty hot under the collar.
She put her hand on my arm, forced a smile, and said, “Can I buy you a drink?”
If I’d had two more I would have probably calmed down, but I only had a half drink in me, and I couldn’t get past the fact that my wife had lied to me. Also, I wasn’t absolutely sure she was telling me the whole truth about where and how and why Ted Nash confided in her-knowing how tightly wrapped Ted Nash was, I couldn’t picture
