by Clancy, Tom
“I’m not sure there’s a net gain for us,” Hood said unhappily.
“Added bureaucracy, you mean.”
“That, plus the senator will be in a better position to interfere with operations,” Hood said. “He can tell us that we have more elbow room. But if he disapproves of something, he can shut the action down. It may not even be intentional. He might have other things to do when a plan reaches his desk. He may red-light an operation until he has a chance to study it.”
“We still have autonomy, Paul.”
“Until he says otherwise,” Hood replied.
“True,” Rodgers said. “But I’ll be able to talk to him. He and I have a lot of friends, colleagues, and experiences in common. That’s more than we have with Senator Fox.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Hood said.
That was when Herbert phoned. Hood immediately took the call. He could not conference Rodgers in because the general’s phone was not secure. He did, however, plug the call through to Lowell Coffey. The attorney was on the bridge of the Australian corvette.
“Okay, Bob,” Hood said. “What have you got for us?”
“I talked briefly with Colonel Hwan,” Herbert said.
“I got your transcript and put some people on it. Nice work.”
“Thanks. I’ve been doing some checking myself. If you read the transcript you know that he gave me a man’s surname: Hawke, I believe with an e. And someone else’s first name, Marcus. I didn’t find any link between them. But then he mentioned the boss of the project. Hwan said that what he’d really like is one of the big man’s sisters. Now, the colonel’s not married, but I don’t think that’s what he was talking about. I found out there is an island group east of New Zealand. It’s called the Chatham Islands. North of the Chathams is an island group called the Sisters.”
“I’ve heard of those,” Coffey said. “There was some issue about native rights and fern-tree preservation on the main island. Let me ask Jelbart what he knows about them.”
Herbert chuckled when Coffey left. “And here I thought the law was boring,” he said. “I didn’t realize that the mind-swelling topic of fern trees was part of the mix.”
“A battle is a battle is a battle, whatever the prize,” Hood said.
“I guess.”
“Is that all you were able to get from the colonel?” Hood asked.
“That’s it,” Herbert said. “I pushed, but I get the feeling he gives these guys as little of his time and effort as possible.”
“Which suggests what?” Hood asked.
“That he’s doing it for the money, not for the cause, whatever that is,” Herbert said.
“Colonel Hwan is on the payroll, but his government is not part of the project,” Hood said.
“You got it.”
Coffey came back on the line. “Gentlemen, either we’re way off target, or we’ve got one hell of a bombshell,” the attorney said.
“I’m not sure which is better,” Herbert said.
“Jelbart says that none other than Mr. Jervis Darling owns several of the smaller islands in the Sisters chain,” Coffey said.
“The media big shot?” Herbert asked.
“That’s the one,” Coffey replied. “Jelbart is putting in a call to Darwin to check something else.”
“Forget it,” Herbert said. “I beat him to it.”
“I’m lost,” Hood said.
“I just went on-line and did a word search,” Herbert said. “Darling has a nephew named Marcus.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hood said. “Why would a man with Darling’s billions and all his media holdings be involved with something like this?”
“Boredom?” Herbert suggested.
“I don’t believe that,” Hood replied.
“What is the name of the guy who owns the ship that was supposed to have made the drop at 130-5?” Herbert asked.
“Mahathir bin Dahman, a Malaysian billionaire,” Hood said.
“Another billionaire,” Herbert said.
“He’s involved with everything from waste disposal to real estate,” Hood said.
“This is smelling like what they call executive action over at the CIA,” Herbert said.
“Which is what?” Hood asked.
“It started with the idea that businessmen from the military-industrial complex were involved in the JFK assassination,” Herbert said. “They wanted to speed up U.S. involvement in Vietnam, along with the increased military buying that would entail. When Kennedy held the course, they got together and had him offed. Or so the theory goes.”
“So there’s an apparent executive action involving nuclear smuggling,” Hood said.
“It could be,” Herbert said. “The executive action profile says that men like Dahman and Darling can’t be bothered with the inconvenience of the democratic process. Over time they begin to feel they’re entitled to power. So they take it by any means necessary. That includes forming strategic alliances. If we have a union here, the question is who approached whom?”
“That’s a big if,” Coffey said. “You’re making a lot of assumptions about some pretty powerful and reputable men.”
“You bit,” Herbert said.
“Pardon?”
“They count on that reaction to avoid suspicion, Lowell,” Herbert said. “Paul, have Liz Gordon profile these guys. I’ll bet she comes up with the same scenario I did.”
“Even if she did, it would still be supposition,” Coffey pointed out.
“Maybe, but we aren’t in court,” the intelligence officer reminded the attorney. “If we’re going to find the missing nuclear waste, we have to make a few educated guesses.”
“Bob, I agree that we have to pursue this,” Hood said. “I also think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Lowell, let’s assume Bob pegged this right. You’re on the scene. What do you suggest?”
“To begin with, I can’t imagine that the Australian government is going to move against Jervis Darling without overwhelming evidence,” Coffey said. “And I mean airtight, overwhelming evidence.”
“Certainly Darling would be counting on that, too,” Herbert remarked.
“If he’s involved,” Coffey reminded them.
“You know, gentlemen, I’m thinking,” Herbert said. “Why don’t we step right up and ask him?”
“Just like that?” Coffey asked.
“It worked with Colonel Hwan,” Herbert said.
“He’s not Jervis Darling,” Coffey said. “My dad deals with movers and shakers in Hollywood. They’ve got layers of people between themselves and the events they cause.”
“Layers only work if you go through them,” Herbert said. “I’ll go around them.”
“Before you do, maybe we should have some real ammunition,” Coffey said.
“Such as?” Herbert asked.
“I’m wondering if there might be a paper trail from Darling to Dahman,” Coffey said.
“Probably not,” Hood said. “But there could be something else. Something I might be able to help with. This could be an executive action, as Bob suggests. Or it could be as simple as there being a hole in Darling’s pocket. One that he’s trying to fill. While we’ve been talking I’ve had a look at his stock reports. A lot of those media companies aren’t doing as well as they once were. And he’s a majority shareholder.”
“I like that,” Coffey said. “At least it’s a starting point.”
“Meantime, Lowell,” Herbert said, “maybe you can get your local friends to do some recon to help me. See what kind of boats Darling owns, where they are, possibly check his phone records.”
“I’d like to hold off on that,” Coffey said.
“Why?” Herbert asked.
“Because there’s the very real possibility that an all-out investigation will bump into people who are sympathetic to Jervis Darling or are on his payroll,” Coffey said.
“So?”
“Bob, Lowell’s got a point,” Hood said. “We don’t want him thr
owing those layers of intermediaries at us until we’ve had a good look around. Lowell, do you think you can talk to Jelbart or Ellsworth about this without sending up too many flares?”
“Jelbart, certainly,” Coffey said.
“Bob, what about Dahman?” Hood asked. “Do we have any Malaysian sources?”
“Not really,” Herbert admitted. “That’s something you should ask Lowell’s friend FNO Loh about.”
“I can do that,” Coffey said. “She seems trustworthy. Though I’m not sure we should open two fronts. There’s twice the opportunity for leaks.”
“I’m not sure we can avoid them,” Herbert replied. “This rope apparently has two ends.”
“That’s true,” Hood said. “Which means if you tug on one, you’ll get to the other. I’m with Lowell on this. I think we should concentrate our resources on the Australian end for now.”
“Paul, trashman Dahman may be the easier end of the rope to grab,” Herbert said.
“But if we do get him, Bob, that will give Darling time to generate alibis and red herrings to keep the heat from him,” Hood said. “Darling scares me more. He’s got unlimited access to interests in the West, Bob. He probably gets a free pass through customs in most places.”
“Billionaires with private jets often do,” Coffey pointed out.
“If Darling’s gone bad, for whatever reason, he’s the one we have to worry about,” Hood said. “If Dahman is involved, we can sweep him up later. Lowell, have that talk with Jelbart and get back to us.”
“Will do,” Coffey said.
“Bob, will you hang on a second?” Hood asked. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure,” Herbert said.
As Coffey got off, Hood hit the Mute button. He wanted Herbert to think he was conducting other business. In fact, he wanted to take a moment to think about what he was going to say. Unless Bob Herbert himself did the closing, he did not respond well to having trapdoors shut on those dark, complex, underground tunnels that ran through his mind.
Hood tapped off the Mute button. “I’m back,” he said.
“What happened?” Herbert asked. “Did I honk you off or something?”
“No,” Hood replied. “Just the opposite. When you feel strongly about something, I don’t like closing the door.”
“Boss, I feel strongly about everything,” Herbert said.
“I know,” Hood said. “But Lowell was pissing you off. I wanted to get him on his way, then come back to what you’re thinking.”
“He pisses me off because he’s a left-wing elitist,” Herbert said. “But he may be right about this. I’m not sure I’m right about going after Dahman.”
“And I’m not sure you’re wrong,” Hood admitted. “What if you went to Malaysia? Did some checking?”
“Frankly, I’d enjoy the hell out of it. If time were not at a premium, I’d push for it,” Herbert said. “But since we don’t have the resources to go in with me, I’m not sure it’s the best use of my time, but I appreciate the counterproposal. Did you think I’d accept?”
“I wasn’t sure,” Hood said. “I thought you might.”
“My independent Southern soul?” Herbert commented.
“Something like that.”
“Well, I’m thinking you might be right about that one,” Herbert told him. “I got into the spy game because I wanted to be Peter Gunn. Remember him? The TV private eye?”
“Vaguely,” Hood said. “I was a Gunsmoke and Bonanza man myself.”
“An ensemble guy,” Herbert said.
“I never looked at it that way, but I suppose so,” Hood admitted. “I wanted to run the Ponderosa.”
“Gunn was a loner,” Herbert said. “He always knew what to say whether he was talking to a thug, a cop, or a woman. Just the smartest, most confident repartee. He was tough. He could take a beating or give one. And he never lost. That’s what I wanted to be like.”
“But?”
“But I don’t have Gunn’s writers,” Herbert said. “I learned there is a big fat difference between fiction and reality. Just between us spies, I didn’t get quite as much information as I wanted from Colonel Hwan.”
“You got what we needed.”
“Barely,” Herbert said. “When that happens, I tend to push a little too hard on the next one. Thanks for reeling me in.”
“You reeled yourself in,” Hood said.
“You’re wrong, but we’ll leave it at that,” Herbert told him.
The intelligence chief hung up. Hood sat back. It was funny. He never knew that Herbert had joined the CIA to be like a TV character. He wondered if things like that should be in a person’s dossier. He found it touching. He was glad they had that conversation. Not just for Herbert’s sake but for his own. There were times when Hood had his doubts about decisions. That came from not being a specialist like Herbert, Coffey, or Rodgers. There were other times, like now, when he was sure of himself. He thought back to something his mother’s mother had said in her later years. Grandmother April was a dressmaker who learned her trade in Phoenix when Arizona was still a territory. After the family relocated to Los Angeles, she got work in the movies. Hood went with her to the studio one day and watched as she was making a ball gown for a movie. She asked for a bolt of gray. Her eleven-year-old grandson asked why she wanted such a boring color.
“Sometimes red and blue can’t function together unless you have a neutral color between them,” his grandmother had replied.
She was right. Which was why he felt pretty good right now.
Sometimes people needed that, too.
THIRTY-ONE
The Celebes Sea Saturday, 12:36 A.M.
Coffey asked to see Warrant Officer Jelbart in private. With permission, the men walked over to the captain’s small ready room. It was little more than a closet with a desk and chair, but it had a door. Coffey closed it. The men remained standing. Jelbart had known that the American was on a call to Op-Center. But Coffey had spoken quietly, and the bridge was filled with the usual conversation and radio communication, as well as the constant rumbling of the engines far below. Jelbart did not know what Coffey had discussed.
Jelbart was stunned when the American told him. He did not doubt the accuracy of the intelligence, but he refused to accept the conclusion.
“Mr. Coffey, why would a man in Salty’s position become involved with any black-market activity?” Jelbart asked.
“Excuse me. Salty?” Coffey asked.
“Yeah. Nicknamed for a crocodile,” Jelbart said. “And may I say, the shoe fits.”
“Interesting,” Coffey observed. “Crocodiles are not discriminating about their prey. They’re survivors.”
“What you’re getting at won’t fly,” Jelbart said. “I’m sure they would be much more selective if they had billions of dollars to plan their menu.”
“Perhaps.”
“Mr. Coffey, forgive me,” Jelbart said. “But do you have any idea what you’re saying?”
“I do. Which brings us back to your question, Warrant Officer. Let’s assume the information is correct. Why would a man in Mr. Darling’s position do anything like this?”
Jelbart shook his head. “I cannot begin to imagine.”
“Try,” Coffey urged.
“Boredom, maybe? A challenge?” Jelbart said. “God knows he’s got all the power, money, and influence he needs.”
“Is his power base very solid?” Coffey asked.
“Lord, yes,” Jelbart replied. “For many ordinary folks, Jervis Darling embodies the spirit of Australia. He has proven that anyone can build an empire. Politicians fight for his endorsement and photo opportunities.”
“What about his personal life?”
“The business press doesn’t like him, but the society pages love him,” Jelbart said. “He and his young daughter go everywhere. Usually with some established actress or political matron on his arm. No supermodels or fluff.”
“What happened to Mrs. Darling?”
> “Dorothy Darling died in a hang-gliding accident four years ago,” Jelbart said. “You may also be interested to learn, Mr. Coffey, that Jervis Darling has never been the subject of personal litigation. And it has nothing to do with the army of legal firms on his payroll.”
“Tell me something, Warrant Officer. Are you under his spell, too?” Coffey asked.
“No,” Jelbart replied. “But I admire the quality that my countrymen see in him.”
“And that is?”
“Noblesse oblige,” Jelbart said.
Coffey frowned slightly.
“I know that sounds strange to you Americans. But Mr. Darling presents class and benevolence in balance,” Jelbart went on. “It makes him nonthreatening. And that makes him beloved. Sort of like Walt Disney or Thomas Edison. A man who started by creating small, specialinterest magazines about archaeology, geology, prehistory. Merging them synergistically to create rich harbors for upscale advertisers. Using his profits to buy real estate, start a bank, develop the Internet. He’s a local hero. People don’t want to know about his flaws.”
“Is all of this a way of saying we can’t investigate him?” Coffey asked. “Or that you won’t?”
“I don’t know.” Jelbart exhaled. “Your evidence is not overwhelming.”
“I’m aware of that,” Coffey told the officer. “But we do know that nuclear material is missing. We don’t know where it is. Should we hold off until someone explodes a dirty bomb?”
“I’m not suggesting that,” Jelbart said.
“You just don’t want to involve Jervis Darling,” Coffey said.
“Yeah. That’s what I don’t want.”
“And we won’t,” Coffey said. “Certainly not at this stage. Hopefully not ever, if it turns out that our information is incorrect.”
“What worries me is how do we verify that information? And then what happens if it is correct,” Jelbart said.
“I’m confused. If Mr. Darling is proven to be a reasonable suspect, then I would think the law takes over,” Coffey replied.
