The FBI Thrillers Collection: Vol 11-15

by Catherine Coulter

"I see. Then you believe there is some-what, some madman after me, Agent Savich? And that I've been damned lucky he's missed me twice?" As he spoke, Senator Hoffman walked over and sat behind his mahogany desk. He motioned Savich to sit in front of him. The desk, Savich thought, suited the man.

  "Yes, that is certainly how it appears."

  "But who? I've thought and thought, you know that." Hoffman's voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. "You haven't discovered it was my sons, have you?"

  "Your sons are many things, Senator," Savich said, "but I don't believe they'd consider murdering their own father. I could be wrong, especially about Benson, since he's not what you'd call a well-controlled, compassionate, or logical man. But you know that yourself."

  Hoffman nodded. "Benson was only six years old when he started stealing lunches from other children, children who were smaller than he was, I might add. He became quite fat before I discovered what was happening and put a stop to it. He hasn't changed."

  Savich said, "I think he could commit murder, if it were on the spur of the moment, a crime of passion. But I don't think he has the brains or the character to execute such a well-thought-out plan. Also, I don't think your sons like each other much, so I can't see the two of them planning anything together."

  "Then who? The good Lord knows I've made enemies, impossible not to when you've been in a position of power for more than three decades. But who?" He exhaled and shook his head. "I'm repeating myself. Sorry." He stopped cold. "You can't have reason to suspect Corliss Rydle. She's been my most loyal employee, at least I've always believed she has."

  "No, I don't think she harbors a grudge toward you, Senator. She's a rock. I understand she's marrying Gabe Hilliard's son."

  "That's right. I thought he was interested in my wife once upon a time, but our friendship survived it. No, Gabe would have no reason to murder me, especially now that Nikki's dead."

  "Your wife and Mr. Hilliard? I found nothing to indicate he's ever been interested in playing more than a round of golf with you."

  "Forget I said that. Gabe has always been an excellent friend." Senator Hoffman ran his hand through his hair, making it stand straight up. "Just the thought that Gabe-well, I'll tell you, Agent, being the target of a murderer makes you question relationships you never thought you would. I don't think I could have gotten through this if Corliss and my staff hadn't been there for me."

  Savich said quietly, "I find it curious that your wife, Nikki, has never managed to get through to me again, Senator."

  Senator Hoffman shook his head as he said, "I've already told you, Agent Savich, that what you claim about Nikki is so beyond anything I could possibly accept, well, I-"

  Savich said easily, "I understand it's hard to accept, Senator. Nonetheless, it is real, it did happen. It's like she had only so much opportunity to connect with someone, and then she had to leave. I honestly doubt she'll come again."

  "So do you think God controls dead people? Lets them talk to us, then pulls them back?"

  "I don't presume to know. It's just that in Nikki's case, she either couldn't connect with me anymore, or she wouldn't."

  "That sounds ridiculous."

  "It certainly makes you reexamine your beliefs."

  "Did she ever tell you who is behind the attempts on my life?"

  "No."

  Senator Hoffman took a pen from its holder and began tapping it up and down. "It seems that is what people who claim to have psychic powers always say-the dead never quite get it done. They never show the psychic the one scene that would make sense of everything, they never convey the one critical fact that would solve the problem. Like Nikki. Life imitating art?"

  He tapped his pen a half-dozen more times, frowned. "You would think that if indeed Nikki was really worried about me, she'd not only break through to communicate with you, she'd tell you exactly what you needed to know, but she's never managed to be helpful, has she? Don't you find that curious, Agent Savich?"

  Savich said, "I did until I realized I needed to back up and do some thinking. Fact is, she did tell me exactly what I needed to know when she spoke to me that first time. I just didn't understand what she was saying."

  "What, did she speak in tongues?"

  Savich no longer had to pull out the paper from his wallet. "Perhaps you remember what she said, Senator. 'David's in such danger. He doesn't understand, doesn't realize what will happen to him. You've got to stop it, you've got to, he can't-' You're right, I wish she'd told me more, but we were interrupted. It's a pity, because a woman is dead and the vice president could easily have died as well."

  The dark library was silent. Hoffman finally said, "I wish she could have finished it, wish she could have told you who has it in for me."

  "She was very frightened for you, Senator, that came through loud and clear."

  "So death doesn't brush away the emotions one felt while alive?"

  "Not in my experience."

  "Well, my wife loved me."

  "Yes, she must still, since she wanted me to save you. I'm going to do my best to do that tonight, Senator. Now, let me be specific. I've spent many hours checking into people who know you socially, who work for and with you, all of your colleagues, your political and personal rivals. I realized there was no one who seemed to have enough of a motive to go to such complex lengths to kill you.

  "After my interview with Benson and Aiden, I realized I was too close, and so I got rid of all my preconceptions and biases. And do you know what? I finally realized the truth, Senator. I saw clearly what I needed to see in what Aiden and Benson said, and finally, in what Nikki had said. Everything fell into place."

  Hoffman nodded. "I too have found over the years that sometimes a bit of perspective is exactly what one needs. Tell me, what is it that fell into place, Agent Savich?"

  Savich steepled his fingers and lightly tapped his fingertips together. "Would you like to tell me why you poisoned Dana Frobisher and tried to murder Vice President Valenti?"

  Hoffman laughed, sat back in his beautiful Moroccan leather chair. "Your reevaluation led you to this? Come now, Agent Savich, I don't have any idea what you're talking about, but what you're implying is ludicrous. Why would I murder a woman I scarcely know over lunch? And Valenti, he's been one of my best friends for years. This is even greater nonsense than your claim about talking to Nikki."

  Hoffman slowly rose. "I am more than disappointed in you, Agent Savich, not that you ever afforded me much protection or assistance. You are a disgrace to the FBI. I will be speaking to Director Mueller, and I promise you, sir, you will be reassigned to the Anchorage Field Office, if not kicked out of the Bureau altogether. You are a professional, you are supposed to be thorough, to be sure of your facts before you act. Let me ask you-do you have a shred of proof for your allegations against a United States senator?"

  Savich's voice was dark as night. "I may never find absolute proof against you. But I like my odds."

  Hoffman said very precisely, "There's no proof to find because I did not commit either of these heinous acts. How can you possibly accuse me after you claimed my dead wife begged you to save me? Nikki knew I was in danger. I was very lucky, Agent Savich, and my being alive, here speaking to you today, has nothing to do with your help. I wonder if I'll be so lucky again?"

  "You don't need to sing another verse of your victim's song, Senator. You and I both know the truth. The reason I came here was that I promised Nikki I would try to protect you. I have told you what I know to stop you from harming anyone else. It really would be best if you gave yourself up."

  Senator Hoffman sat back down in his chair, his arms behind his head as if he were suddenly enjoying himself. "I thought you were smart, but I now I see that I was wrong." He laughed, a full, deep laugh. "You're whistling in the wind, Agent Savich."

  "You said you hardly knew Dana Frobi
sher, but your wife worked quite closely with her. An old friend of Ms. Frobisher recalls quite a nasty split between them, something to do with allegations of embezzlement, but it was never pursued. Did you consider that Frobisher had committed an offense against your wife?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "It's interesting you invited her to lunch to discuss working with you on some charity when Frobisher hasn't been involved in any charity work in over five years, and you have never before shown any interest."

  "How would I know that? All I know is what I wanted to do and I remembered her name. Nothing more than that."

  "Senator, I attached GPS monitors to your three remaining cars, as part of my investigation meant to protect you. The Range Rover was in close proximity to Leesburg, Virginia, late last night. Emilio Gasparini of the Foggy Bottom Grill was found dead there this morning."

  "I have nothing to say about that. I will not allow you to interrogate me in my own home."

  "I imagine Emilio met you there last night expecting to be paid, but you killed him instead. Do you really believe we'll find no evidence of any of your dealings with him? Do you think Emilio didn't confide in anyone at all? A girlfriend? A boyfriend? There will be bank deposits, phone records, credit card receipts. I will trace them, Senator, and I will catch you. Count on it."

  Savich rose to face him. "I also realized there was simply no one else who could have rigged the Brabus, Senator-only you or Morey Hughes. I will find the evidence if you did any research on how to sabotage that vehicle, or ordered the parts you needed. It doesn't matter if you deleted it, I will unearth it."

  Hoffman shook his head. "Add this to your fantasy mix, Agent Savich. Morey leaves the house more often than you imagine. Anyone could have gotten into the garage and sabotaged the Brabus."

  "Do you know what bothers me still? I don't have a handle yet on why you tried to murder Vice President Valenti. I know he and your wife were high school sweethearts, and Aiden and Benson implied that their mother still had strong feelings for him, telling them of adventures she had with Valenti when Aiden and Benson were children. Was it sheer obsessive jealousy, Senator, finally gone mad years after the deed, or something more?"

  Hoffman laughed again. "I have been Alex Valenti's friend since before you were born. I have had enough of this conversation. Next time you speak to my wife, Agent, that is if some Being allows her to come back to earth a final time, tell her she went to the wrong person. She went to a buffoon who did nothing at all except try to destroy her husband. Now, get out of my house. I do not wish to see you again."

  64

  STONE BRIDGE, CONNECTICUT

  Sunday morning

  Adler Dieffendorf and Werner Gerlach walked to the conference room table, nodded to Bowie, Savich, and Sherlock, and sat down. Dieffendorf said immediately, "I elected not to have our lawyers here, but I will call them if you become in any way inappropriate. Do you understand?"

  Bowie nodded. "We understand."

  Dieffendorf said, "Good. As you know, Werner and I have been speaking to your Department of Justice attorneys. About this." He pulled a copy of the Culovort papers out of his briefcase and fanned the pages.

  Savich saw his hands were shaking slightly, but his voice remained firmly in control. He closed his eyes a moment, then his shoulders squared again. "This has come as a grave shock to me, this well-crafted plan that my very own CEO Caskie Royal implemented to shut down the supply of Culovort in our Missouri plant. Let me emphasize that this was the act of a rogue employee. Nothing like this would ever be sanctioned by Schiffer Hartwin. The company's leadership is not to blame, and so I have told your federal attorneys. I have already informed the family, and we are in discussions concerning restitution.

  "Now I will tell you that I suspected something was amiss, and that is why I sent Helmut Blauvelt here to find out the truth. No, I more than suspected, I'd heard rumors that I could not discount, and so Helmut, less than a week after his appendix surgery, insisted on coming, even insisted on making private travel arrangements so no one would find out. He was a bulldog, and Caskie Royal would not have managed to fool him for very long. Even I did not expect the truth to be this damning or to precipitate such dreadful acts. Helmut Blauvelt was more than a Schiffer Hartwin employee. He was a longtime friend of mine. I simply couldn't believe it when he was so brutally murdered. Then Royal himself was murdered. Still I did not know how damning it all was until I read the actual plan Royal implemented to systematically close down production, making it look like unfortunate occurrences had led to the shutdown. I was trying to find out the truth from him when he ran away. Neither Werner nor I knew what to think. It seemed to us everything had flown out of control.

  "If I accept that Royal was a rogue employee, acting on his own, why then was he murdered? I don't understand, I simply don't know anything, except that these papers, these papers are a horror for the company." He shook the Culovort papers, then dropped them on the table. "Someone knew to copy these pages off Royal's computer. What is going on here?"

  Bowie said, "Mr. Dieffendorf, did you yourself request Agent Andreas Kesselring of the BND to come here to assist in the investigation of Helmut Blauvelt's murder?"

  Dieffendorf frowned at him, shook his head. "No," he said slowly, forcing his brain to refocus, "but when his services were offered by the BND, I gladly accepted. I checked. Kesselring has an excellent reputation. Why do you ask?"

  "Agent Kesselring was sent here, sir, just as you sent Helmut Blauvelt. He was here to assess the situation and contain it. He was never here to assist us. He was never on your side, or ours. It was he who murdered Helmut Blauvelt because Blauvelt discovered too much of the truth. He also murdered Caskie Royal because Royal was trying to escape and Kesselring knew he'd be caught, and he knew Royal would confess everything to save his own neck. He did not murder Royal on his own. He had the help of Royal's wife and her lover. Yesterday morning, he planned to murder his accomplices and Agent Sherlock. He failed."

  Dieffendorf stared blankly at Bowie, his face perfectly white. He'd aged ten years since Bowie had opened his mouth. "No," he said quite clearly. "No. This cannot be true. You are saying that an agent of the BND has betrayed us? Me? The company?"

  "Yes, sir, he did indeed betray you and the company. I imagine you've wondered why Agent Kesselring hasn't answered his cell phone. He cannot, you see, because he's in the hospital, being treated for gunshot wounds."

  Dieffendorf frowned. "Werner, you told me Kesselring wasn't answering his cell phone. You said you were concerned."

  "That's correct. Yes, I was becoming worried."

  Dieffendorf said to Bowie, "You swear to me what you've told us is true?"

  "Oh, it's quite true," Bowie said.

  Dieffendorf said to Gerlach, "Did you have any idea what Kesselring had done?"

  "Of course not. I do wonder, though, if the FBI agents here are being completely accurate in their telling of these events. Where is your proof that Kesselring did any of these things? Did Kesselring confess it all to you?"

  Savich said, "He has refused to tell us who he worked for. Let me ask you, Mr. Dieffendorf, do you think Caskie Royal himself contrived somehow to sabotage the Spanish plant?"

  "I don't see how he could have." Dieffendorf stopped short, sucked in his breath. "You're saying Kesselring helped him?"

  "I'm saying that Royal did not act alone."

  Bowie pulled a cell phone from his pocket. "We took this cell from Kesselring's pocket. It's prepaid, impossible to trace to a specific buyer, only to the store where it was purchased.

  "There are many calls on it, some to a number you know very well, Mr. Dieffendorf." Bowie turned to Werner Gerlach. "I find it particularly interesting, Mr. Gerlach, that Kesselring phoned you three times last Sunday night, around the same time as the break-in at Caskie Royal's office and Hel
mut Blauvelt's murder. Did he call you for instructions? Did you discuss whether he should kill Blauvelt?"

  Werner Gerlach sat motionless, staring straight ahead. Dieffendorf leaned down and shook his shoulder. "Werner? What did he call you about?"

  Gerlach slowly stood now. "All of this is the grossest sort of speculation, Adler. I know nothing of any of it. I wish to call our lawyers now. They will put a stop to this lunacy."

  Savich said, "I have accessed your phone records, Mr. Gerlach. There are also calls from your number to Kesselring. A total of six calls until yesterday morning. Then you left three messages."

  Gerlach crossed his arms over his chest. He stood stiff and as tall as he could. "This means nothing at all. Agent Kesselring was here to find answers, not commit crimes. Naturally I wished to communicate with him, to find out the status of his investigation. There is nothing more to it than that."

  Dieffendorf said slowly, "I have known Werner Gerlach for more than twenty years. He is loyal to me, he is loyal to Schiffer Hartwin. He would never conspire in a fraud of this nature, never."

  Savich sat forward, his hands folded. "I believe eight months ago you married a young lady named Laytha Guerling, aged twenty-six?"

  Gerlach erupted, "What business is that of yours? Don't you dare bring up my wife's name!"

  "Actually, it's much worse than that, Mr. Gerlach. You see, your wife was hired by a man who knew of your first wife's recent death, who knew you were vulnerable. She was instructed to seduce you, and so she did. She's a professional, after all. When you asked her to marry you, the man she worked for was very pleased. She soon convinced you to collude with that man, didn't she? It must not have taken very long to convince you, Mr. Gerlach, since the shutdown of the Missouri plant and the sabotage of the Spanish plant happened eight months ago. How much money was promised you?"

  Gerlach was breathing hard, his face turning alarmingly red. "I do not know what you are talking about. You will cease your slander of my wife, do you hear me?"