“Yeah? Well, then, I won’t say that. But that’s the way it is.”
I didn’t reply for a while, and we stared at each other. I said, “Why does Koenig want me out of town?”
“He doesn’t want you out of town. He wants you off the fucking planet. And it wasn’t the beeper thing, sport. And I’ll tell you this-whatever he’s got on you is good. And whatever he’s got on your wife is very good. He was royally pissed off at both of you, and he wants you someplace where you have lots of time to think about how you pissed him off.”
“Well, you know what? Fuck him.”
“No, Corey, not so much fuck him, but more, I think, fuck you.”
I stood without being dismissed and said, “You’ll have my resignation on your desk within the hour.”
“That’s your call. But talk to your wife first. You can’t resign without a note from your wife.”
I started to leave, but Captain Stein stood and came around his desk. He looked at me and said in a quiet voice, “You’re under the eye, kiddo. Watch yourself. That’s friendly advice.”
I turned and left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Kate was not at her desk when I left Stein’s office, and I asked her cube mate, Jennifer Lupo, “Where’s Kate?”
Ms. Lupo replied, “She had a meeting with Jack in his office. I haven’t seen her since.”
Apparently Jack Koenig and Kate Mayfield had more to talk about than David Stein and John Corey had. I didn’t like the smell of this.
I went to my workstation, which I hadn’t done prior to my meeting with Stein. There was nothing new on my desk and nothing urgent on my voice mail. I punched up my e-mail. Usual garbage, except for a message from the FBI travel office in Washington that said
“What the hell…?”
Harry Muller looked up from his computer and asked, “What’s up?”
“Bad horoscope.”
“Try mine. I’m a Capricorn. Hey, what did you do yesterday?”
“I was sick.”
“Stein was looking for you.”
“He found me.”
Muller leaned toward me and asked, “You in some kind of trouble?”
“I’m always in trouble. Do me a favor. Kate’s in with Koenig. When she comes out, tell her to meet me at that Greek coffee shop down the street. Parthenon, Acropolis, Sparta-whatever.”
“Why don’t you leave a note on her desk?”
“Why don’t you just do me a favor?”
“Every time I do you a favor I feel like I’m an accessory to a felony.”
“I’ll bring you back some baklava.”
“Make it a corn muffin.”
I stood and said to Harry, “Keep this to yourself.”
“Toasted, with butter.”
I made a hasty exit for the elevator. On the way down, I thought about what my instincts were telling me to do. First, get out of the building in case Koenig wanted to speak to me after he grilled Kate. Second, the next person I needed to speak to was Kate, alone and away from the Ministry of Love. These were good instincts.
I got off the elevator, went out on Broadway, and walked south toward the World Trade Center.
The coffee shop-the Acropolis-had the advantage of high-backed booths, so the customers couldn’t be seen from the street. Also, the horrible, tinny, piped-in Greek music covered conversation, and every five minutes or so there was the sickening sound of smashing crockery. This was piped in, too, and was supposed to be funny. I guess you had to be Greek to get it.
I took a seat at an empty booth in the rear.
I had the feeling that things were closing in on me-that I shouldn’t use my cell phone or my office phone, or my e-mail, or even my apartment phone. When the Feds get on your case, you’re toast.
The waitress came over, and I ordered coffee.
“Anything with that?”
“Toast.”
I was on my third cup of coffee, leaning out into the aisle to see the front door, when Kate came in. She spotted me, walked quickly to the booth, and slid in opposite me. She asked me, “Why are you here?”
“Obviously, we need to talk. Alone.”
“Well, Jack is looking for you.”
“That’s why I’m here. What did you two talk about?”
She replied, “He asked me if I was looking into the TWA case. I said I was. He thanked me for being so forthright, then he asked me if you were looking into the case, too.” She hesitated, then continued, “I said you were. Then, he wanted some details, so I told him what he probably already knew about everything that had happened from the night of the memorial service to now.” She paused, then added, “That’s what you suggested. Right?”
“Right. How did he handle the truth?”
“Not too well.”
The waitress came, and Kate ordered a chamomile tea, whatever that is.
I asked her, “Did you tell him where I went yesterday?”
“I told him you went out east and that’s all I knew. I explained, quite frankly, that you weren’t sharing much with me, so that I wouldn’t be in a position to have to lie. He appreciated that strategy on a professional level, but he was very pissed off.”
“The mere mention of my name pisses him off.”
Kate’s tea came at the same time the crockery crashed, and she was startled. I could tell she was a little jumpy after an hour with Koenig. I said, “That was a recording. Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine.” She sipped her tea, then leaned across the table and said to me, “I told him in no uncertain terms that I asked you to look into this case and that you were reluctant to do so, but out of loyalty to me, you agreed to check out a few things. I told him I take full responsibility for any breach of rules, regulations, standing orders, and so forth.”
“Was his face red? I like it when his face gets red. You ever see him snap a pencil between his fingers?”
“This is not a joke. But, yes, he was in a state of controlled freak-out.”
“Well, that tells you something right there-doesn’t it? Somebody-the government, the FBI, the CIA-has something to hide.”
“Not necessarily. He was pissed because this was the second time I was told that this case was none of my business. They don’t like to have to tell you twice about something, even if it’s something minor. There is no room for renegades and hotshots on the team. Jack’s annoyance had nothing to do with this case, per se, but with the larger issues of giving aid and comfort to conspiracy theorists and muckraking news media.”
“Why didn’t we think of that?”
“Because it’s bullshit.”
“I hope you told him that.”
“I did not. I told him I understood completely.”
I wasn’t exactly certain where Ms. Mayfield now stood on this subject, so I asked, “What’s the bottom line?”
“He gave me a direct order not to involve myself in this matter, and if I gave him my word on that, then nothing negative would be entered in my service record.”
“So, there you go. No big deal. Where do you want to meet for lunch?”
She ignored the question and asked me, “What did Captain Stein say to you?”
“Oh, right. Stein. Koenig didn’t tell him much except that one of Stein’s problem cops-me-needed to get
