“Investigate? I thought it was a suicide,” Cade gushed. His eyes widened in disbelief. They were neither green nor hazel, but a swirl of both. Like his genes couldn’t agree on a color.
“We still have to investigate.” Luke gave him a wry smile.
“And a candidate for U. S. Senate, no less. Another one done in by lust and greed. Sad.”
“Mr. Cade, did your establishment have any contact with Senator Twomey?”
John didn’t answer right away, but his collar was suddenly tight.
Luke stood up but resisted the urge to get in Cade’s face. Despite the compliant start, Luke doubted he would take a brow beating as readily as 'ol Barty. This guy clearly had a lot to lose. Instead, Luke unbuttoned his jacket and crossed to Cade’s impressive collection.
The pieces were Asian and Middle Eastern in origin as best Luke could make out. They had to be very old and very expensive to merit such a display. The custom cabinets alone probably cost more than he made in a year. Luke paused at a museum quality display with dedicated filtered lighting. Crushed terra cotta had been re-assembled into the silhouette of a jar on a background of plush velvet. The label read ‘Kartid Dynasty – c.1300’. He clasped his hands behind him and waited.
“Yes,” admitted Cade after a long silence. “If it even rises to that definition.”
Luke continued along the collection of pottery, spear tips and a once lethal bow all housed in luxurious felt and leather displays. That was easy. The veep wasn’t exactly hoarding information, but Luke kept his tone casual. “Did he come here?”
“Yes. We had one meeting with the Senator. I did. It lasted about five minutes. But it wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge.”
“I don’t think it is.”
“Good.”
“What did you talk about?” Luke turned and walked to the window. He positioned himself so he appeared to study the skyline while keeping Cade in sight.
“That silly bill of course,” Cade said. “He came to us looking for support for his ludicrous proposal. He said his goal was bi-partisan support and felt this bill was worthy of it.”
“You disagreed.”
“What he wanted was an endorsement. The bill was the talking point, but his goal was having a prayer at the under thirty-five vote in November.”
Luke didn’t interrupt. He didn’t need to. The vice president kept volunteering information.
“He was crazy if he thought we would ever endorse him. Or anything he thought was a good idea, for that matter.”
“Why?”
This time Cade didn’t hesitate. “We don’t need him. We’ve got something better.”
“Something better?” Luke turned to look at him.
“Do you follow politics, Agent Marshall?”
“Not if I can help it,” said Luke easing himself back into soft leather.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard the name Henry Onessa.”
Luke nodded.
“He’s it.” Cade’s voice had a note of finality. “He is the future. Sharp, talented, charismatic. He’s the total package, and he happens to be a great friend of this organization. And it’s core beliefs.”
“He worked here didn’t he?”
Cade’s friendly demeanor fell as he realized Luke knew more than he let on. His expression became guarded, but he kept talking. “He started in our legal department fresh out of law school. Worked his way up to the head of the legal department faster than anyone thought possible. Whatever it is, he’s got it in spades. We’re proud to say he got his start here. He’s a tireless champion for all the right things and lives the values Twomey blathered on about but didn’t actually possess. Naturally we back Henry.”
“Naturally. When did Twomey come by?”
“About two months ago. Before he introduced the bill.” John Cade drew himself up in his chair and puffed out his chest. “As I said, it was a short meeting. I told Cecil in no uncertain terms we would not be endorsing him or his bill.”
“How did he respond to that? I’m told he could be a little hot headed at times.”
“He wasn’t happy, but I don’t suppose it came as any big surprise,” Cade answered.
What the hell. Let’s see what happens.
Luke stood and leaned across the desk far enough to violate John Cade's personal space, planting his hands on either side of the surprised man's desk. “Surely he’d figured that out on his own. Like you said, it was no surprise. Why come for the face to face rejection?”
Cade shifted in his chair and studied the paneling to his left. “I have no idea.”
“Why is their camp denying that he came here at all?”
“You should ask them.”
“And you never talked again?”
Cade pressed his lips together and shook his head.
“There was nothing else he wanted to talk about?” Luke pushed.
“We had nothing else to talk about.” Cade was getting jumpy.
“You sure about that?” Luke scooted along the perimeter of the desk getting closer and closer. He ended up propped on the corner causing Cade to lean away. “If this meeting happened two months ago, why did he call you less than two weeks before he died? On a secret phone, no less.”
“What control do I have over the phone he uses,” Cade hissed. His face blanched when he realized what he said.
Luke grinned and leaned back giving the man some space. “So you did talk to him. What were you two kids gossiping about?”
John Cade mastered himself faster than Luke expected. “It was a desperate attempt to make us reconsider after he came in here acting like a buffoon. Like his attempts at governing. Feeble.”
“Why didn’t he call you on a normal phone? Was he trying to keep your conversation a secret?” Luke suppressed a smile. Sometimes his job was fun.
John Cade stood up ramrod straight and puffed out his chest leaving no doubt the interview was over. Luke stood, now nose to nose with Cade. Luke didn’t blink. Cade broke off and turned away.
“I’ll have the secretary show you out,” he said.
Luke reached into his pocket and flipped a card onto the desk. “I remember where the door is. Thank you for your time, Mr. Cade. You’ve been very helpful.” Luke turned and walked to the door. As he closed it, Luke saw Cade snatch up his phone and punch a number into the keypad.
TEN
Luke no sooner slung his jacket over his chair when Thad walked into his office.
“What the hell did you do?”
“What?” Luke massaged his temples and fell into his chair. It was after six and he’d hoped everyone was gone for the day, but Thad’s entry dashed his hopes.
“Simon wants to see you. ‘Yesterday’ was the word he used.”
Luke closed his eyes and sighed before heaving himself out of the chair.
“I’m taking your stapler if you get fired,” Thad yelled after him.
“Close the door, Luke.” The booming voice of the Atlanta SAC reached him before he got to the door. Luke glanced over his shoulder at the deserted hallway but shut it as ordered. He slouched in a chair and rested his aching head in one hand.
Steve Simon’s desk and walls were covered with golf paraphernalia. A traditional banker’s lamp cast a low light over the tidy desk. In his usual fastidious manner, the only items on the desktop were a phone and a glass bowl of gold foiled candy.
A large bookshelf occupied the back wall loaded with criminal law volumes and pictures of his grandkids. Steve’s hulking frame covered most of the chair. Brilliant white teeth flashed against his black skin as he opened a piece of candy and popped it into his mouth. Usually, Steve was making bad jokes. Not today.
“Did you pay a visit to a Mister John Cade today?”
“Just got back.”
“Now, why in the world didn’t you tell me you were going over there?”
Luke shrugged. “Following the phone call. Didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“Not a big deal, huh? I would
have agreed with you except I just got calls from two U.S. Congressmen and Assistant Director Long. They all wanted to know the same thing. Why were you grilling an executive of an organization with no link to Twomey.
“That was fast. ‘Grilling’ is a bit dramatic. And they do have connections to Twomey.”
“I know.” Steve leaned forward and put his beefy forearms on the desk. “I also have the experience to know that Joe Long is a bad enemy to have. Tack some Congressmen onto that and you start to see a problem?”
“Joe still pissed that I said no?”
“Said no? You told number three honcho at the FBI to go yank himself. Right after he offered you the entire counter terrorism section.”
Luke chuckled.
“Luke, you wanna tell me what in the sam hill is going on?”
“He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“With Twomey.”
“Would you have told me not to go, Steve? It’s an investigation. Same shit as always.”
Steve Simon locked onto Luke with a gaze that caused many a man to confess back in the day. “Now, you know this is clearly not the same as always. Of course I would have let you go, but I would have known you were about to stir the pot. I’m the one that fields complaints from these egotistical knuckleheads. And now Susan’s mad because I’m late for dinner. How is it that you’re the one antagonizing everybody, and I’m the one gettin yelled at?”
Luke smiled. “Sorry, Boss.”
“Ehh, shut up.” Steve sunk back making his chair creak.
“I push. That’s why you gave this to me, isn’t it?”
“Listen, I’m with you on this, Luke. You know that,” he said. “But I’m afraid I might have put you in a difficult position.”
Luke waved him off, but he kept talking. “I’ve been in this business a long time. I've seen it enough. Powerful people get twitchy when you start niggling around in their closets. Their skeletons are often more repugnant than everyone else’s.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Now you know it does matter.”
“No. It doesn’t. It’s simple.” Luke leaned forward. “I turn over the rocks these snakes slither under and let them burn in the sun until they know they’ve been beaten. By me.” He pointed at Steve. “They don’t get a pass because of who they are.”
“There’ve been a couple of times you didn’t think so.” Steve’s soft reply silenced Luke. “I never questioned your judgment. I didn’t need to ask, and I never will. I defended you to anyone who came asking, including Joe Long. You’re the best agent I’ve ever seen and you’re right. I put you on this case for a reason.”
Steve grabbed another piece of candy and heaved his bulk out of the chair. He snatched his coat off a valet stand in the corner and looked out the window. “But there are people who would love nothin more than to see you brought down. So, if you’re gonna bring it, you bring it hard. You don’t go halfway with a case like this. You either break it wide open, or you walk away.”
“I will.”
Steve faced him. “I know. But you need to think long and hard about the ending of this one. You’ve got my blessing to do whatever you feel is necessary, but for the love of all that’s holy, be prudent. Ok?” Steve clapped him on the shoulder and walked out of the office. “And keep me in the loop. No more surprises,” he yelled over his shoulder.
Luke trudged back to his desk. He’d touched a nerve with Cade, which only brought up more questions. He ran his hand through his hair then ripped off his tie.
Thad poked his head in. “How’d it go?’
Luke told him about the conversation with Steve.
“Wow,” was all Thad said when Luke was done.
“I don’t know. Maybe I am way outta line on this.” Luke locked his hands behind his neck and kicked his feet up on his desk. He didn’t rattle easily, but the man he respected most had pretty much advised him to walk away and leave the politics alone.
“Look, old man,” said Thad, “you’re the one that taught me to trust an instinct. I think you should follow your own advice. Besides, you’ll wanna hear what I dug up.”
Luke dropped his hands and realized Thad was almost bouncing in his seat, laptop open. “Go.”
“One World is a huge player. Like every other special interest lobby, they’ve been implicated in improper contributions to politicians through their PAC. You know, the ushz. It’s the go-to charity for Hollywood types with an environmental bug up their ass. Well represented at elite political and social functions. They have a history of doing a little bob and weave with their moral position if it gives them an economic or political advantage. Again, not unusual for Washington.
“Here’s where it gets interesting. I Googled the words Dr. Prince found on Twomey's hand. Chaud is French for hot so it sounds promising.”
Luke gave him a withering look. Thad missed it as he tapped on the keyboard. “Our choices include a clothing brand out of India, a reporter, a couple of Canadian businesses and said French translation. Maybe he was trying to tell us that he preferred French women.”
Luke perked up. “A reporter?”
“Yeah, but he’s a dead end. Literally. He died in Iraq while embedded with an Army combat support unit.”
“When was he killed?”
Thad looked at his screen. “David Chaudhry. An embedded New York Times reporter. His unit was hit by an IED and small arms fire in March ’08.”
“Twomey had the name of a dead reporter written on his hand?”
“Yeah. Random.”
“I doubt it. What about the other?”
“That one’s pretty easy. Doha...”
“Camp Doha?”
“Yeah. You know it?”
“It’s shut down now, but it was a DOD multi-branch base outside Kuwait City. It was a major staging point for the initial invasion in ’03.”
“Uh, yeah. Were you there?”
“Me? No.”
Thad waited. When Luke didn’t say anything, he continued. “Found an article, blip really, that mentioned Camp Doha in a list of bases that instituted an environmental protocol plan or whatever. Something like that. I don’t know exactly what that means. I’m pretty sure it’s government pork.”
“Never heard of it,” said Luke.
“Not exactly nightly news material. Still isn’t, but the Great Google further revealed that less than a year before the date of that article, our buddies at One World made a huge deal with the DOD to implement environmental protocols around military bases including Doha. One World was not mentioned in the first article, but it had to be them. No one else has done anything like this.
“Every major base in the Middle East and Europe implemented environmental reforms within a year. Every branch. At that time, it was something like fifty bases. For something that nobody seemed to care about, it was a massive deal pushed through in record time. In under eight months.”
Luke sat forward listening.
“The contracts were awarded to several environmental service companies who wound up with fat government deals. One World was retained on a lucrative consulting contract. Put One World on the map. Guess who brokered the DOD deal.
“Cade.”
“Boom.”
“When?”
“About ten years ago.”
“Around the same time he made vice-president.”
“He was promoted three months later actually,” said Thad.
Luke jumped up and started pacing behind his desk. Thad shifted in his seat with a satisfied look. “It gets better. Cade was the Middle East rep back then. He lived in Turkey and traveled extensively in that area.”
Luke’s thoughts went to Cade’s impressive collection.
“About a year after he was promoted, one of their low-level employees was accused of blackmailing an exec. The newly minted vice president, Cade. I had to dig for that one. It got buried like a champ.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. The case was droppe
d. The employee was discharged and kinda dropped off the map.”
“Dead?”
“Don’t know. I can’t find him.”
Luke stopped. “So, Cade spends five undistinguished years as a lobbyist. Goes to the Middle East and suddenly has the talent to make Washington bend over backward for him. Makes vice president and gets blackmailed.”
“And never gets promoted again.”
Thad drummed his fingers on the laptop waiting for it.
“You got plans tonight?” Luke grabbed his coat.
“Not anymore.”
“Thatta boy,” Luke grinned, “let’s go pay Barty another visit.”
ELEVEN
Bartholomew Duncan ignored the half glass of scotch on the desk. Instead, he focused bloodshot eyes on the bottle clutched in his thick fingers. The table lamp on the console behind him cast the only light in the storefront. The dim light barely made it to the front door.
Barty took a long pull from the bottle. He spat it out when he heard something buzz in the drawer next to him. With a shaky hand, he tugged the drawer open. A cheap flip phone vibrated across the drawer bottom. He pulled it out and gazed at it in horror. Liquor sloshed onto his desk as he slammed the bottle down. His gaze darted around the dark empty office. It snagged on the front door.
Luke watched him through the glass, the Senator’s matching phone to his ear. He made a show of flipping the phone shut, savoring the panic on Duncan’s face. Then he pushed the door open.
Duncan’s panic turned to a route when he realized his drunk ass forgot to lock it. He jumped up looking around for an exit but gave up and cowered as the two men bore down on his office door.
“Hey, whatdoyaknow. That second number was yours,” said Thad gleefully. He grinned at Luke who towered over Barty sweating in the corner of the office. “These little things are the best investigative tools known to man. I don’t know how Sherlock did it.”
The liquid courage made a last stand. “You don’t know anything, you little prick.” Barty smirked as the smile slid off Thad’s face. His satisfaction didn’t last long. Now scowling, Thad posted his beefy frame against the doorjamb blocking any escape.
The Last Innocent Page 9
