Cajun Justice

by James Patterson

  Without skipping a beat, Cain nodded and replied, “It’s a pleasant fragrance. I’ve always liked the smell of coriander with a hint of paprika and butter.”

  “The food was good, but I must confess, I don’t have the most refined palate. I’ll eat anything. My ex-husband—”

  “Ex-husband?” Cain interjected, feigning ignorance.

  “It’s no secret.”

  “I stay out of the gossip. But I’m sorry to hear. It’s certainly his loss.”

  She gave a half smile—enough for Cain to think he might be able to win her over after all.

  “My ex and I were once vacationing in the Jewish quarter of Kraków. It was a quaint neighborhood with that old-world charm. The lovely waitress had placed a basket of bread and a plate of cheese on the table for us. I was devouring what I thought was the best cheese I had ever had. I mean, I can’t express how delicious this cheese was. I pushed the plate over and told him he had to try it. He took one bite and started dry heaving. I thought he was about to throw up right there on the table. He yelled out, ‘That’s not cheese! It’s butter!’”

  Cain laughed heartily. “Well, I gotta put butter on everything—even my vegetables. I’m from the South. At least I’m not as bad as the Georgians who run the chow hall at FLETC—they consider mac and cheese a vegetable!”

  Cynthia laughed until she seemed to remember that the exam was being recorded. At that moment, she quickly returned to her stoic and professional demeanor.

  She grabbed a checklist. “Okay, Agent Lemaire. The Secret Service considers this an administrative inquiry, not a criminal matter. Therefore, I will not be reading your Miranda rights. However, I will be providing you with your Kalkines warning and then asking you a series of test questions to establish a baseline. Just answer them with a simple yes or no. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is your name Cain Michael Lemaire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you currently employed as a United States Secret Service special agent?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you ever dived with sharks?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked up from monitoring her machine to study Cain. She appeared surprised by his answer. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “For pleasure?”

  “I thought it would be.” He gave an impish smile.

  “Have you ever climbed Mount Everest?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Now that I’ve established a baseline, we’ll move on to the specific questions that are for the purposes of this examination,” Cynthia said. “Have your actions in a professional capacity ever made you vulnerable to blackmail?”

  “No.”

  “Have your actions in a personal capacity ever made you vulnerable to blackmail?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever paid a prostitute?”

  “Not for sex.”

  “Agent Lemaire, please answer the question with just a yes or a no.”

  “It’s not that simple of a question. I didn’t pay for sex, and I didn’t know she was a prostitute.”

  Cynthia inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Agent Lemaire, have you ever given money to a woman who could have been a prostitute?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you give her that money to cover the cost of a sexual exchange?”

  “I didn’t have sex with her.”

  “Agent Lemaire, again, this is a yes or no question. Did you pay a prostitute to cover the cost of a sexual exchange?”

  “I have no information about any sexual exchange.”

  “I’ll rephrase my question. Yes or no answer only. Did you give money to a woman who you believed was receiving money for sexual activity?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you, Agent Lemaire. This concludes the scope of this polygraph examination.”

  “That was the quickest poly ever,” Cain said in frustration. “That was completely politically motivated.”

  Cynthia unhooked the instruments dangling off Cain and provided him with a list of instructions.

  “This is an ongoing internal investigation. You are not allowed to discuss this with any other agents. Supervisory Special Agent LeRoy Hayes will be in touch with you regarding the outcome of this investigation.”

  “Can I talk with my supervisor about this test?”

  “Yes, but only your management team.”

  “How long do you think the results will take? When do you think I’ll be reinstated to return to work?”

  “Agent Lemaire, neither I nor the test detected any signs of deception from you. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean you are clear. My results will be evaluated by another examiner, and the Service will have your results by close of business today.”

  Cain stood and shook her hand. “Thank you for your time today. Wish I had seen you under different circumstances.”

  He went to the bathroom in the hall and splashed cold water on his face. He might not have sweated, but he had certainly started warming up in there despite the cold. He wiped the water off his face with a brown paper towel. It felt like wiping his face with sandpaper. The government spared no expense on many things, but creature comforts like toilet paper and napkins were not among them.

  He exited the bathroom and saw the King leaning against the wall with his arms folded. Using just his back and shoulder muscles, he pushed himself off the wall and quickly approached Cain. “Lots to discuss. Walk with me.”

  Chapter 21

  Cain and LeRoy walked through the government hall toward the exit, busting through the double doors and outside to the parking lot. It was still drizzling, so they remained under the overhang. LeRoy pulled out a pack of Kool cigarettes and offered Cain one.

  “No, thanks. I thought you quit—isn’t that why you vape with that purple thing now?”

  “I’m not a quitter! I just can’t smoke these in the office.”

  Cain scoffed. “You know vaping ain’t allowed in the government building, either, right?”

  “Cain, the day I take policy advice from you is the day I’ll turn in my badge and gun.”

  Cain handed LeRoy a matchbook from his pocket. It was the one he had taken from the British pub.

  LeRoy studied the matchbook. “Ain’t that some shit. Don’t try to rope me into this boondoggle.”

  “You already are.”

  “Touché,” LeRoy replied, and then lit his cigarette. He took a deep drag. He slowly exhaled puffs of smoke into the air. Cain could smell the menthol. “Look,” LeRoy said, “the SAC called me into his office a little while ago. He wants me to ask if you’d be interested in something.”

  “Why wouldn’t the SAC just ask me, then?”

  “He thinks you and I get along well.”

  “We do—for the most part,” Cain replied.

  “He knows that you and I see eye to eye on most things with the Service. That’s why he reached out to me. He was hoping I could”—LeRoy paused—“convince you, was the actual word he used.”

  “I’m listening,” Cain said, eager to hear what LeRoy was going to say next.

  “The SAC wants this to be over as quickly as possible.”

  “Me, too,” Cain replied. “The SAC and I have that in common.”

  “He’s getting a lot of heat from the director, because now the director’s job is on thin ice.”

  “So, what’s the SAC proposing?”

  “He’d like for you to wear a wire and get confessions from the other agents.”

  “Absolutely not,” Cain protested. “I’m not a rat.”

  “Relax,” LeRoy said. He took another drag from his cigarette. “I told him you’d never go for that. But I came up with a solution.”

  “It can’t be any worse than his solution.” Cain’s anger was palpable.

  “I told the SAC that you knew only about Jackson’s affair. Let’s concentrate on that one. You are in a unique position to help the Service get rid of him.”


  “By get rid of, you mean fire.”

  “Yeah. Tom Jackson’s an asshole. The world’s full of ’em. He’ll be right at home in the private sector.”

  “Firing Tomcat is your job, not mine. All you have to do is make him take the same poly you made me take today.”

  “We did,” LeRoy said, and turned his head away—toward the parking lot.

  “Aaaand?” Cain dragged out the question. “And?” he repeated when he didn’t get an immediate response. “For Christ’s sake, what are you not telling me?”

  “He passed it.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s true. I saw the report.”

  “The final report, maybe, but not the results.”

  “I’ll deny this if I’m ever asked.” LeRoy pointed his cigarette at Cain’s face to emphasize the importance of what he was about to say. “This is just between you and me. But the report showed what he purported—that he had consensual sex with a woman and never paid her.”

  “What about adultery?”

  “It’s not a crime. The Service will just handle that with an administrative infraction.”

  “It’s like I’m living in a twilight zone.”

  “I hear you. That’s why I think there is more to it.”

  “Like what? Of course there is more to it.”

  “Cynthia was busy polygraphing other agents, so he ended up with a different examiner. They had worked some missions before, several years ago. Jackson might’ve had some dirt on him.”

  Cain shook his head in bewilderment. “Unbelievable. I swear, Tomcat has nine fuckin’ lives.”

  “And you have one. Remember that.” The King flicked his cigarette into a nearby water puddle. He watched the water extinguish the ashes and then opened the door to walk back into the building.

  “Oh,” he said, turning back. “One last thing. The SAC wants to see you in his office at zero eight three zero tomorrow.”

  “That can’t be good,” Cain replied.

  “You know the SAC’s reputation: he’s a hard-ass with a vindictive streak. Make sure to have a solution, since you didn’t like mine or his.”

  Chapter 22

  Cain retrieved his personal cell from his suit pocket. He flipped through his contact list and thumbed his favorite. The phone started dialing the international number.

  “Hey, twin brother! I’ve been waiting for your call. What’s the word?”

  “I just finished my polygraph exam. I’m pretty sure I passed it. I was honest and the examiner said she detected no deception.”

  “I don’t think that matters, though.”

  “What do you mean?” Cain inquired.

  “I saw the picture of you, Tomcat, and the others drinking at the pub. Plus, I saw the prostitute on television. She was giving a damn interview, destroying any credibility you guys have. The government will do what it always does: it’ll find a scapegoat. Looks like the media brought it to them on a silver platter.”

  “She’s going to milk this cash cow for as much money as she can,” Cain said as it dawned on him.

  “You think you’ll be mentioned?” Bonnie asked.

  “God, I hope not.”

  “Prostitution wouldn’t even be mentioned in the Japanese news,” she said. “Nobody cares about that kind of stuff here. One of my clients is the CEO of one of the largest auto companies in—”

  “One of your clients?” Cain interrupted.

  “Yeah, one of my students,” Bonnie clarified. “I teach English to a few business executives to make a little extra money.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Well, I don’t tell you all my secrets.”

  “That’s probably the best news I’ve heard all day!”

  Cain and Bonnie laughed together.

  “Anyway, as I was saying, I’ve been telling one of my clients about your situation.”

  “Sis, please don’t do that.”

  “He can help, Cain. This is exactly what you need. He runs one of the largest auto companies in Tokyo, and he is looking for a bodyguard.”

  “A bodyguard?” Cain said with disgust.

  “I know. You guys hate that word.”

  “We’re not bullet catchers. We use our brains, too.”

  “Some more than others.” Bonnie giggled. “The work here would be easy lifting and the pay would be good. Plus, it gets you closer to me. Maybe then Mom and Pops would come out here to visit. You know they’re never going to travel this far unless we’re both here.”

  “They’re homebodies. They’ll never leave the farm. Plus, they wouldn’t leave Seth by himself, and he ain’t gonna fly that far.” Cain paused a beat. “Thanks for thinking of me. But I’m going to settle this tomorrow morning at my meeting with the SAC.”

  “Fine. If they do end up giving you a few days off work, go down to the farm. Mom would love to see you, and there is plenty of stuff you could do to help out Pops. It’ll be good for your soul to get back south for a bit, too.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “Give ’em hell, brother. With what you’ve been through in life, this ain’t no hill for a mountain climber.”

  “I can always count on you to be my biggest cheerleader.”

  “We’re family,” Bonnie said, taking on a more serious tone. “We’ll always have each other. No matter what.”

  Chapter 23

  Cain had been up for hours. His sleep was restless. After he lost count of how many times he tossed and turned, he got up and sat at the dining table. The rain and gray clouds from the night gave way to a morning that dawned into a brilliant blue sky from horizon to horizon.

  I hope this is a sign of positive things to come, Cain thought as he finished his third cup of coffee. Time to get ready for the SAC.

  He went to his closet and picked out his sharpest suit—a tailored navy blue with pinstripes. He had custom ordered it for when he was on assignment in Seoul. The president had attended a nuclear security summit and greeted American troops deployed at the demilitarized zone, or DMZ, as they called it. Security had been extra tight and Cain vividly recalled constantly scanning the large expanse of land, hills, and forests for snipers. Had just one North Korean soldier fired upon the president, World War III would have erupted.

  Cain donned a starched white shirt, a blue-and-yellow-striped tie, and a pair of caramel leather boots. He was impeccably dressed. Jill was right—the Service judges you on how you look.

  As he left his bedroom and headed toward the door, he saw the framed picture on the dining table. He kissed two of his fingers and placed them on Claire’s face. “Thank you for talking me through this, Claire Bear. We have a plan, and I promise I’ll stick to it.”

  Chapter 24

  The White House meeting began promptly at 0830. LeRoy ushered Cain into the office of the special agent in charge. Unlike the director, who oversaw the entire mission of the Secret Service, the SAC was responsible for overseeing all facets specifically related to the safety of the First Family. His walls were full of framed and autographed pictures of himself with presidents, world leaders, and members of various royal families. The SAC was in his midfifties and still physically fit. He chalked that up to a life without alcohol, living by Mormon principles, and good physical fitness habits he cultivated while playing high school and college basketball. He was clean-shaven and seemed especially proud of his full head of salt-and-pepper hair. He held every strand in place with some type of shiny styling product.

  “Thank you for coming today, Agent Lemaire,” the SAC said with a calm and welcoming demeanor.

  “Thank you for calling this meeting,” Cain replied. “I’m hopeful we can put this behind us so I can get off admin leave and come back to work.”

  “I understand how difficult this last week has been for you,” the SAC said. “Quite frankly, it’s been challenging for all of us. You’ve done a great job protecting our nation’s leaders, Agent Lemaire. You’ve kept yourself in shape, you’ve been reliable, and you were
honest during your polygraph exam yesterday.”

  “Would you have expected anything less from me, sir?”

  “No.” His hands came together under his chin, propped up by his elbows on the desk. “I don’t have a lot of time, so let me just cut to the chase. A proverbial line has been drawn in the sand. This has come straight from the director. Because you paid the prostitute—regardless of whether you had sex with her or not—you’re in hot water. It’s like the childhood game of Duck, Duck, Goose. Remember that game?”

  “It’s been a while, but yes.”

  “Well, you’re it. And the only way for you not to be it is for you to work with our internal affairs investigators and get confessions from the other agents. If I’m going to identify and extract this cancer from our organization, I’ve got to know how malignant and widespread it goes.”

  Tomcat—you son of a bitch! What I wouldn’t do to roll back the clock and not pay that woman. I should throw your ass under the bus…

  “Permission to speak freely?” Cain asked.

  “Of course,” the SAC replied.

  “Sir, if I did as you requested, I would never be trusted by my colleagues for the rest of my career. And as you know, trust is paramount in law enforcement. Nobody would ever work with me again, and I would be an outcast. I would be ineffective in my role to protect POTUS. I don’t think our Service is plagued with this cancer you speak of. I think it’s just a very few members who made some very poor decisions.”

  “It’s more than a poor decision. They compromised national security! They had foreign nationals in the same room as US government devices.”

  That’s quite a stretch, Cain thought. Besides, those devices were encrypted—set to erase themselves if the wrong password were entered three times.

  “So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to play ball with us?” the SAC demanded. “My instructions from the top were clear, Agent Lemaire. If you’re not going to assist us, then you are allowed to resign.”

  Hearing the demands—practically an ultimatum—from the SAC felt like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. Cain felt numb, but anger tingled deep inside his core.