“That’s what we’ve been trying to do,” she said, her voice rising.
A guard looked in their direction. Robert winked, and the agent kept moving. He leaned in close to Thorne. “I found a crypt with Julie Rice’s name on it. I think we hit pay dirt.”
30
Only a splatter of people remained inside the house, and most of them security personnel making the last rounds. Robert spotted his mother sitting at the end of the couch in the living room dozing off, her head propped up in one hand, her lap covered with the hand knitted green and white afghan she kept in her trunk. She looked older to him sitting there, and he wondered how much longer he’d have her around. He knelt in front of her. She smiled without opening her eyes.
“How are you son? You made it back.” Her eyes opened and she kissed his forehead. “Where’s Thorne?”
“I’m all right,” he said. “Thorne’s outside. We came back to see how you and Fiona are holding up.”
“I’m okay, and she’ll be fine. Don’t worry, she’s strong.” Robert dropped his head. “I should’ve told her sooner, but I…” Barbara gently placed her fingers under his chin and lifted his head.
“Don’t second guess yourself Robert. This was not an easy decision.
You did what you thought best.”
He found comfort in her words, but wanted to hear them from Fiona.
“Where is she?” “In the den resting. They grilled her pretty hard, reviewing the questions she can expect at the hearing. It’s going to be tough but she’ll make it. I know Fiona, she’s a fighter.”
“I know. I just wish there was more I could do.” Barbara grabbed his hand. Her eyes watered. “I’m proud of you son and I know your father would be too.” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. Robert handed her tissue from a box on the coffee table.
“I met President Kennedy while he was still a senator, and worked on a number of projects at the White House because of him.” Robert’s eyes widened. His mother never mentioned she’d worked with Kennedy, then again, she never told anybody everything.
“He was a good man,” she continued. “Not perfect, but a good one.
When they killed him, they stole our innocence, just as sure as if they’d raped us. Nothing has ever been the same.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “You get the bastards,” she told him.
“Every last one of them.”
Robert kissed her forehead. “I will mother. Now you calm yourself, and try to rest.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine.” Barbara looked at the door to the den. “Be patient with her, son.”
Robert kissed her palm. “I will,” he said. “Now, why don’t you track down Thorne? I think she can use a calming influence right now.”
“I’ll do that,” said Barbara, dabbing away the wetness from her face.
Robert watched her disappear outside, braced himself, and headed for the den. He knocked softly and entered. “Hello Fiona.” Fiona, sitting in an easy chair next to the couch, didn’t say a word or move. He closed the door. “We need to talk.”
“Sure. What is it now? You know who really killed President Lincoln and want to share that too?”
Robert smiled. She didn’t. He sat down on the edge of the couch.
“It was Booth,” he said. “And as far as I know, he worked alone.” Fiona stared at him, her back ramrod straight, eyes stern and piercing.
Silent. Unmoved.
“Fiona, I need to explain.”
“It’s really not necessary, Mr. Veil. I’ve made my decision. I’m going to keep quiet about what’s happening.” Robert, relieved, took a cleansing breath. “I’m glad you have faith in me.”
“This has nothing to do with you. I talked to Barbara and she put it all in perspective. If I go to the authorities with a conspiracy story about President Kennedy’s assassination, I’ll be the laughing stock of the legal community. Especially after Edward Rothschild gets finished with me.
So I might as well roll the dice.”
“You’ll come out of this fine, Fiona. I’ll break my neck to make sure you do.”
“This isn’t about me either! This is about a President’s murder. It’s about justice being served, and Rothschild not getting away with it. No matter what happens to me.”
“I know, I feel the same way, but I’m saying that I know I put you in a precarious situation, and if I could do it all over again I’d…”
“You should’ve told me, Robert! You should have let me make the decision to stay in this or get out! Now I’ve got a mass murderer after me, Edward Rothschild out to destroy me and everything I’ve worked for, and I didn’t even have the chance to choose whether I wanted in on this or not!”
Robert anticipated her reaction, but it hurt all the same. “It wasn’t an easy decision. I tried to avoid taking this case but you and my mother pushed it. Besides, I began to care for you.” Fiona sprang to her feet and slapped his face. “Don’t you dare talk about caring for me, not after this. How could you care and not tell me?” Stunned, more by her words than the slap, Robert stood up to face her.
“I’m sorry Fiona, I really am. I did what I thought was right. I wanted to protect you and Jessica from this monster, and still go after Rothschild.”
“I really don’t care about your intentions,” she said, pounding her fist in her hand. “I just want to get out of this alive with Jessica safe.”
“I understand. I want the same thing. And I think we’re close to making that happen.”
“How so?”
“We think we know where the evidence is hidden.” Fiona crossed her arms. “Where is it?”
Robert whispered the details, leaving out the confrontation with Edward’s men and the death squad.
She stepped back. “Are you sure?”
“Not one hundred percent.”
Fiona furrowed her brow. “You’ll need a court order,” she finally said. “I can help you with that. I have a very good friend on the bench who owes me a favor. Not as big as this one, but he’ll stretch for me and won’t ask questions.”
Her offer encouraged him. “Thank you Fiona,” he said, reaching for her hand. She pushed him away.
“Fiona, what do you want from me? How can I make this right?”
“What I want is for you to catch these people, and you can never make this right. It won’t be like before. In fact, when this is over, I don’t want to see you anymore.”
He stepped toward her. “Fiona, I…”
“Robert, please go,” she said, backing away. “Contact Judge Gary Bonner in the morning at the Federal Courthouse. He’ll have your court order ready so you can exhume the casket. I hope the evidence is in there. You’ll need a detective or Federal agent present. Do you have someone you can trust?”
“Yes, she’s FBI. Her name’s Marilyn London, and I’m sure she’ll play ball.”
“Good,” said Fiona. “I’ll let Judge Bonner know. It’s not normal procedure, but he’ll release the order to you. Agent London will have to present it to the cemetery’s managers, and be there when you open the casket.”
“I understand,” said Robert. “And I…”
Fiona raised her hand. He searched her face for some sign she cared for him, but found none. Fiona picked up her purse and left the room.
31
Friday morning clouds gave way to rain, and the nation’s capitol braced for Judge Fiona Patrick’s
