“There’s one problem.”
They all waited.
“It seems Mr. Veil and Thorne videotaped Charlie. I watched them for about thirty minutes waiting for a clear shot. They asked questions and he talked. By the time I fired they were finished.”
“I’ll have their places searched. Maybe we can squash it right away,” said Vernon.
“Tiss, tiss,” said Simon. “Are you sure you couldn’t have killed Charlie before they finished the tape? I mean, you heard what they were discussing.”
Marilyn’s face contorted. Simon chuckled.
“Enough,” snapped Edward. “What about the evidence? If we get the evidence, the tape won’t matter.”
“We can track down the evidence,” said Vernon. “At this point Veil is the only one who can lead us to it, so for now, he’ll have to stay alive.
Simon can trail them, and call in if he sees something. I’ll have a team ready to go at a moments notice.”
“And I’ll see to it that no more videotapes are made,” Simon added, looking in Marilyn’s direction. Her eyes narrowed.
Edward slid into a chair and cupped his hands on the table. “The White House knows about Charlie, and quite possibly, what we’re up to.”
The trio, their jaws on the table, looked horrified.
“How? What?” Vernon stuttered.
“I met with President Claymore this morning. He hinted that he knew about Charlie. How much, I’m not sure. Others in the White House might also know.”
“Then they could already know about all of us,” said Marilyn, panic in her voice. “And you called us right over here. Are you out of your mind?”
Edward leaned forward and backhanded Marilyn across the face. The slap stunned her, shocked Vernon. Simon smiled.
“Calm down,” Edward growled, not missing a beat. “We can still get this situation under control. I need Robert Veil and his partner dead. I need that evidence found and destroyed, and I need it done right away.
If we wait much longer, President Claymore isn’t the only one who’ll have our asses on a stick.”
Nobody moved or spoke for several minutes. Edward searched their faces. Marilyn grinded her teeth, Vernon thumped the table with his fingers. Simon calmly sipped a glass of ice water, and watched the others.
“This changes everything Edward,” said Vernon. “It’s one thing to cover up an old mess that should’ve been handled a long time ago. Now we’re digging the hole deeper. I don’t like it Edward. I don’t like it one bit.”
“I agree,” Marilyn said, sill angry, but under control. “This means somebody’s looking over our shoulder watching our moves.” Edward remained calm. “It’s too late to reconsider,” he told them.
“So let’s talk about the problem at hand. Veil and the evidence. Get rid of both and we’ll be in the clear. No one can make a move on us if we destroy the trail completely.”
Vernon sprang to his feet. “We don’t know where the evidence is Edward,” he growled. “We don’t even know if Veil does either. We can’t just snap our fingers and make this go away.”
“You’re the Director of the CIA, Vernon. I suggest you and Miss London use your resources more effectively and take care of it. I’ll handle the President.”
“You’ll handle the President? Just what does that mean?” Marilyn asked.
“That’s my problem,” said Edward, cold and firm.
Marilyn joined Vernon. “I’m sorry Edward. I’ll give back the money. I’m out.”
“I’m afraid I have to agree,” added Vernon. “This has gone too far.
If we don’t cut out now, we’ll burn with you. It’s not worth it.” Simon, enjoying the ruckus, said nothing.
Edward slammed his fist on the table and pointed at them. “Let me tell you this,” he said. “You can’t get out. It’s too late. The only way out is to kill Veil and destroy the evidence. It’s the only way.” Vernon walked to the door. “I’m sorry Edward,” he said. He looked at the others, then left the room.
Marilyn’s eyes stayed fixed but she didn’t speak. “Goodbye Edward,” she finally muttered, and followed Vernon out of the door.
Simon sucked his teeth and examined his nails. “Don’t worry,” he said, tossing a brown Bogart brim on his head. “I’ll track Veil and his partner. Those two are just panicking. They’ll come back.” He cleared his throat. “You know, in light of the new developments, I think a more appropriate compensation is in order.”
He walked to the door all smiles. “I’m sure you’ll come up with an amount we can all live with. Let me know and I’ll sell the others.” He tipped his hat, bid Edward a better day, then left.
Edward looked at the bar, but decided he’d had enough to drink. He called Patra and told her to have his car ready. He’d call Simon later and make them a new offer. He checked his watch. Three-thirty. Four hours before Judge Patrick’s reception. He headed for the snail-like elevator.
What more can this day bring?
16
Robert divided up the brochures he found in Charlie’s room with Thorne and searched his half. Neither found a trace of the old man or a clue to the evidence, in the mausoleums or the cemetery office files. The longer they searched, frustration mounted. They decided to make another pass and examine one crypt at a time. Robert went back through Lexington Cemetery in Virginia, but found nothing.
While Thorne continued the search, Robert went to Judge Patrick’s estate. Lost in thought walking the grounds, he didn’t notice Agent Sams next to him, a huge German Shepherd by his side.
“Just thought I’d let you know we’ve covered the entire estate. It’s clean.”
“Thank you Agent Sams. But do you think it’s possible you can search it again?”
Agent Sams looked puzzled. “That’ll make six times. I think five is more than enough.”
“I understand, and you certainly don’t have to take orders from me.
But please. Indulge me. For the judge’s sake.” Sams looked around the estate at his team. “Okay Mr. Veil, but after this I have to pull some of my men to get ready for the reception tonight.”
“Thank you Sams. I know it’s overkill, but this guy has slipped through one of the biggest manhunts in history.” Sams’ face twisted. “And don’t think it doesn’t have us heated. I’m gonna hang this guy’s balls from my rear view.”
“You’ll have to beat me to them first,” said Robert.
They laughed, then Sams stared at Robert, like he had something on his mind.
“Anything else agent?’
“I’m curious about something.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. How is it you and your partner get the run of the farm? I know you worked for the CIA and did a stint in the Marines. I’ve just never heard of such a thing.”
Robert considered the question. Not the first time he’d been asked.
“It’s classified Agent Sams. No offense, but let’s leave it at that.” Robert headed to the main house. His mind drifted away from the Bear, to Iraq. From Rothschild, to Iraqi Freedom. One of his assignments during the war was a clandestine operation, code name: Scorpion. Their mission: assassinate Saddam Hussein and any heirs to his dictatorship. Intelligence on Saddam’s whereabouts proved sketchy.
Instead of the monarch, they found members of Saddam’s family including women and children. Their orders clear, no prisoners, the mission failed, sabotaged by him and Thorne. That, with their refusal to execute a group of scientists, and the brass had had enough. He and Thorne walked out on the government and never looked back.
Connected and well trained. Bounty hunters. Guns for hire.
Robert spotted Fiona standing on the balcony over looking the backyard, and saw the strain on her face. She waved. He answered with an encouraging smile before she turned and disappeared inside the house.
