“But we have more to work with now. If she was Russian, that’s something that can be checked out. If she was a handler for a spy within the government, that can be investigated too. We have leads, we just have to run them down.”
Bogart said, “If she did help out this country and was paid a substantial sum for it, that is something we should be able to track down.”
“But how does that explain Dabney’s killing her?” asked Jamison. “We know that Dabney stole secrets, but that was very recently.” She looked at Brown. “Do you have anything to show that Dabney and Berkshire were working together?”
Brown hesitated.
“Oh for God’s sake, you can at least nod or shake your head,” said Jamison in exasperation.
Brown shook her head.
Jamison turned to Decker. “Okay, so what is the connection?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Decker. “But if we find the answer to one, something tells me we’ll find the answer to all.”
Brown picked up the security badge. “I can check out when these types of badges were used at DIA. We tend to change them on a regular basis, so that will give us some time parameters.”
“And she kept that KGB communication for a reason,” said Decker.
Brown nodded. “And I’m going to read it from one end to the other. It might provide some clues.”
“And the floppy disk?” asked Jamison.
Bogart picked it up. “It’s been a while since any of us have seen one of these. We’ve had the lab go through it. Whatever was on there no longer is. At least nothing that’s intelligible.”
“Was it Russian?” asked Jamison.
“It was computer ones and twos,” replied Bogart. “That made no sense.”
Decker picked up the doll.
Milligan said, “You don’t expect to get anything from that, surely.”
Decker rubbed the doll’s hair. “I don’t expect anything. I just go where things take me.”
His phone buzzed. It was a reminder to him of their meeting with Nancy Billings.
Decker stood. “Like right now. Let’s go, Alex.”
CHAPTER
39
NANCY BILLINGS WAS in her late thirties, with light blonde hair, a carefree manner, and a nose ring. When she met them at the Starbucks she was dressed in jeans and a wool sweater. They ordered coffees and sat at a back table.
Decker said, “Just wondering, can you wear nose rings while being a teacher at a Catholic school?”
“No. I just wear it in my off hours. Still pretty strict in parochial school. For teachers and students.”
“So what can you tell us about Anne Berkshire?” asked Jamison.
“What do you exactly want to know? I mean, I was stunned to hear what happened to her.”
“Did you two talk, interact?”
“We did. She substituted for me a number of times. I was sick some, had to attend some teacher training, and a couple of other times I had to go out of state to help my mom. My dad has dementia.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Jamison.
“Anne was very good, stuck to the lesson plans, knew her way around the classroom. I never heard any complaints.”
“But you did interact?” said Decker.
“Yeah. I would meet with her after she taught my classes. She’d fill me in on what had happened, things like that. We also went out for coffee a few times. I think I was the only sort of friend she had. I mean, she never talked about anyone else in her life.”
“What did you two talk about?”
“Well, I did most of the talking, come to think of it. Anne was quiet. I can’t even tell you if she had family living. I mean, she never talked about stuff like that.”
“She must have said something.”
“The kids. The lessons. The state of education in America.”
“What did she think of that?” asked Jamison.
Billings frowned. “She wasn’t a big fan, to tell the truth. She thought the kids had it too easy. Had too much stuff.”
“Did you know she lived in a million-dollar condo and drove a Mercedes-Benz 600?”
Billings’s astonished expression answered for her. “What? I had no idea. I thought she was as poor as me. I mean, she never said.”
“What else?”
“My kids would tell me that she was very strict and wouldn’t tolerate any horseplay. I mean, that’s not a bad thing in a high school. The kids can get out of hand pretty quickly if you let them take advantage. But Anne seemed to have a way about her that commanded respect.”
“What would she teach?”
“Math. She had a really good grasp of it. I teach algebra and calculus too. And I think I’m pretty good. That was my degree in college. But I have to admit that Anne was far superior to me in the field. The kids would tell me that she could easily work out problems on the board that she’d never even seen before. And she was never stumped for an answer for any question they might have. In fact, Anne had helped me on some lesson plans and shown me a few shortcuts with some of the formulas. I just assumed that she was a math major too.”
Jamison said, “We’re not sure. Her résumé said computers, but that may not be true.”
“What do you mean may not be true?” asked Billings.
Decker said, “She may not be who she said she was. In fact, it’s pretty clear she wasn’t.”
“I don’t understand. Then who was she?”
“That’s the $64,000 question,” said Decker. “Did she ever speak a foreign language in front of you?”
Billings looked alarmed. “A foreign language? Like what language?”
“Let’s leave it at anything other than English.”
“No. Although sometimes it seemed that I could detect a little bit of an accent that I couldn’t place. My boyfriend was raised in Germany and he has an accent. That’s probably why I picked up on it. Are you saying Anne wasn’t American?”
“We’re not sure,” said Jamison.
“Anything you can remember that seemed out of the ordinary?” asked Decker.
Billings looked confused. “Compared to what?”
“Just anything she said that seemed out of character.”
Billings drank her coffee and thought about it. “Well, I’m sure it’s not important.”
“It could be.”
“We were sitting in my class one morning. She had come in early to fill me in on a test she had done while I was out. The kids weren’t in yet.”
“Okay.”
“She’d finished, but hadn’t gotten up to leave. As a rule, when Anne was done, she was done. She’d just get up and leave. I mean without saying anything. Not just with me, but with other teachers too. I don’t think she meant to be rude, that was just a quirk she had.”
“Really?” said Jamison, staring dead at Decker. “Wow, who would have thought?”
Decker ignored her look and said, “But this time she didn’t leave?”
“No. She was sitting there just staring off into space. I asked her if anything was the matter. She said no. Then I started telling her about my old boyfriend. I don’t know why, but I’d gotten an email from him after not hearing a word from the idiot for two years. I was complaining about him to Anne, but really just talking to myself. I remember saying that I really thought he was the one, you know. The guy I’d walk down the aisle with. Right?”
Decker didn’t react to this, but Jamison said, “Yeah, I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
“So then I said that after four years together I thought I really knew Phil, but turns out I didn’t know him at all.”
After Billings stopped talking, Decker said, “And then what?”
“Oh, and that’s when she said it.”
“Said what?”
Billings looked at each of them before answering. “She said that the exact same thing had happened to her.”
Decker said, “That she thought she knew someone but turns out she didn’t?”
“Yes. And that’s when she got up and left, without a word, like usual.”
“When was this?” asked Decker sharply.
“Two weeks ago today. I remember because the test was the final one for the quarter.”
Billings looked at Decker. “Is that important?” she asked.
When Decker didn’t answer, Jamison said, “Yes, it’s very important.”
Decker got up and walked out without a word.
Billings looked at Jamison and said, “I guess you have one of those on your hands too.”
Jamison smiled, stood, and said, “Good with the bad. If we need anything else, we’ll be in touch. Thanks.”
CHAPTER
40
“SHE HAD ONE like this.”
Decker and Jamison were driving to meet Melvin Mars for dinner. Decker was holding the doll they’d found at Berkshire’s storage unit.
“Who, your daughter?” asked Jamison, glancing over.
Decker nodded and then put the doll down next to him.
“You don’t really talk about your family much,” said Jamison cautiously.
“What am I supposed to say?” replied Decker, not looking at her.
“It takes time, Decker. We all process differently. And you process in a way that is totally unique.”
“Time doesn’t heal my wounds, Alex. For me there is no such thing as time, at least when it comes to memories.”
“Don’t you have a way of, I don’t know, walling things off?”
“If I did, I think I would have tried.”
They drove in silence for a few moments.
“What are the odds that two different people, Dabney and Berkshire, would use pretty much the exact same phrase?” asked Decker.
“Who could they be referring to? The same person? Different people? Each other, maybe?”
Decker shook his head. “I don’t know. If each other, then they must have known each other.”
“So apparently she was good at math and had a slight accent. Does that tell us anything?”
“Yeah, that she was good at math and had a slight accent.”
Jamison sighed and changed the subject. “So how is it working with Harper Brown?”
Decker shrugged. “She keeps things close to the vest, but I think she wants to solve this case as much as we do. Maybe more since now it’s turned into a spy case involving her agency.” He paused. “Her father worked at DIA. He’s on their Torch Bearers Wall for extraordinary service.”
“Huh, maybe that explains things.”
“Explains what?”
“Why she’s so damn driven.”
“She’s wealthy too. Lives in a big house near Capitol Hill. Her great-grandfather was some fat-cat investor way back. Invested in blue chips long before they were blue chips.”
“Wow, just what I wanted to hear.”
He glanced at her. “You okay?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be? She’s a knockout, has this cool career, and she’s loaded. Yay! Good for her.”
Decker rubbed at his knees, which were crammed against the dashboard. “I have to admit, her BMW has a lot more room than your car.”
“Do you want to walk the rest of the way?” Jamison said between gritted teeth.
* * *
When they entered the restaurant they saw that Mars was already seated in the back. He rose and waved to them. They joined him and sat down.
“I’ve met all the people in the building,” said Mars. “Good folks.”
“When did you do that?” asked Jamison.
“Yesterday and today. I think you picked a great location, Alex. Thanks.”
Mars looked over at Decker, who had said nothing.
“You okay, man?” asked Mars.
When Decker didn’t answer, Jamison said, “Case is not going all that well.”
Mars nodded and said, “Can’t have it good all the time, but you guys will get there.”
“We don’t always get there, Melvin,” said Decker quietly. “The bad guys win too sometimes.”
“I got faith in you, Decker. You don’t let the bad guys win.”
Decker pulled the doll out of his backpack and placed it on the table.
“What is that?” asked Mars, looking puzzled.
“A clue,” answered Jamison.
“You’re kidding.”
“It was used to steal secrets,” said Jamison. “It’s got a hidden compartment.” She picked up the doll and showed him.
“A doll baby, damn,” said Mars. “That’s going pretty low.”
The waitress came and they ordered. She glanced at the doll but said nothing. When the woman walked away, Jamison said, “So how would the exchanges take place, do you think?”
“I’m not sure,” admitted Decker. “The doll would need to get from A to B and then back to A.”
“It seems sort of James Bond stuff,” said Mars. “I mean, don’t they just, you know, hack stuff now and steal it electronically?”
“Well, this was back when they didn’t do it like that,” said Jamison. “They used floppy disks and dolls and, I don’t know, microdots. And rolls of film that would fit inside the doll.”
Decker took the doll from Jamison. While they ate, he said nothing. He just kept staring at the doll.
* * *
Later that night, after Jamison went to bed, Decker sat at the kitchen table holding the doll. After a few minutes he rose, put on his coat and a ball cap, and headed out. It was drizzling. His walk carried him along the river. He had taken his gun with him because it was just that sort of a neighborhood, especially at night.
He reached the same bench he had when he’d been jogging and sat down.
He liked the night often better than the day. Light tended to intrude on him, even when it wasn’t bombarding him with harsh blues
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