“Photo?” replied Lilburn. He instinctively knew what was coming.
“Look over my left shoulder, the building opposite, slightly larger than this one. Top floor, window with the curtain partly closed; surveillance.” She shrugged. “It was to be expected and I expect to be severely punished.”
“We’re not here to judge you, Suzanna,” said Evangeline. “We understand they have your child.”
Lilburn saw his chance. “Have you heard anything more about Roddy?”
“No, I haven’t. I pray Robby is still alive. I pray for him.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Sorry, sorry.” Suzanna stubbed out the cigarette in an ashtray, picked up her coffee and shut the sliding door behind her.
Lilburn felt no sympathy; she was responsible for the murder of a number of people. The son was just another lie. “Suzanna, we understand… but I thought your son was Roddy?”
“No, no. It’s Robby. Roddy is my brother.”
Mistakenly calling the child by her brother’s name could have been just that; a mistake. Lilburn assumed the apartment was bugged and right now someone was looking up her brother’s name. He also assumed it would be Roddy. Lopez was smart, she knew there was visual surveillance on her and she would expect electronic measures in place as well.
“Matt, I asked you once before.” Stubbing out her cigarette, Lopez pushed her hands forward over the table and placed them on top of Lilburn’s. “Please help me get my son back alive.”
Lilburn fought the urge to pull back his hands. “Of course, but you need to help me. I have nothing to go on. I need to know everything, how you were approached, interactions you had with the cell. Your son’s adoptive parents’ names. Everything.”
“Thank you so much, Matt. Thank you so very much.”
For the next half hour Lopez volunteered information. Lilburn wrote down what she said, privately awed at the detail to which Lopez went. He was also aware he was sitting in front of a mistress of deceit. Her body language gave away nothing. The adoption was unofficial — of course — and there were no official records. Lopez had answered an advertisement on the Net for discreet private adoptions. Discretion and anonymity assured, the advertisement had supposedly read. Just what an upwardly mobile single professional woman required. To Lilburn this begged the question. “So how did the Takfir know you had a son?”
Her answer elegantly simple. And impossible to disprove. “I don’t know.”
Lilburn tapped his pen on the pad. What could he say, what would be the catalyst to catch Lopez out? The pen stopped tapping. “So what do you know about the death of Ian Bradley?”
Lopez was just about to sip of her second coffee when she heard the name. There was the slightest, almost unnoticeable, hesitation before the cup reached her lips.
“I don’t know an Ian Bradley. Who is… or was he?”
“Have you ever been to Plum Island?”
“Briefly, quite a while ago now, eight, nine, ten years. I can’t recall exactly. It will be on my record, I went there with the Secret Service. A group of us were given a tour of the site.”
“That was about the time I worked there,” said Evangeline. “We might have seen each other.”
“It can be a small world,” replied Lopez. “And this man, Ian…”
“Bradley.”
“Ian Bradley, who is he?” Lilburn could see the measure of control it took for Lopez to mention his name.
“Until recently he worked as a doctor in the Animal Disease Center.”
Lopez sat back in her chair. She grabbed her cigarette packet and shook one out then toyed with it in her fingers. They were trembling, ever so slightly.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Lilburn saw an opening, a crack in her armor. He pushed on. “Any time now someone will be coming through that door and they’ll start with ‘Anything you say may be taken down and used…’ Tell me. If you know anything about the death of Ian Bradley… tell me.”
Lopez stood up, grabbed a lighter and lit her cigarette. She stood there and faced the door, her back to Lilburn. Turning around she looked to Lilburn, who also rose to his feet. “They think I’m making this up, don’t they?” She took a forceful drag on the cigarette. “They don’t believe me.” She started getting agitated, looking wildly around. She saw Evangeline looking up at her. “You don’t believe me either!” Her voice grew louder. “I’m telling the truth… I’m telling the fucking truth! YOU HEAR THAT, ALLAN HALL?” Furious, Lopez shouted at the walls, the ceiling — she didn’t know where the listening devices were but knew they could hear every word. ‘YOU CAN ALL GO TO FUCKING HELL… You can all go… to… fucking…” Lopez slumped into her chair and buried her head in her hands and started to sob.
Evangeline moved around the table and placed an arm over Lopez’s shoulders.
“Don’t touch me! I don’t want your fucking sanctimonious sympathy! Yes, I told the cell where to go, how to avoid getting caught. So put me before the firing squad.” She laughed bitterly, then took another drag. “Get the fuck out of my place. Go!”
Evangeline jumped back, as if she’d been scalded. Lilburn held out his hand. “Let’s go.” The two walked to the door, then Evangeline turned — her voice soft.
“I’m sorry, Suzanna. I’m sorry it’s come to this.”
Lilburn opened the door to the hallway and guided Evangeline through. Looking back towards the balcony he saw a broken woman. He also saw a traitor.
The Jeep Wrangler made its way back to the motel, its occupants bereft of conversation until it came to a halt outside Lilburn’s unit.
“Do you still believe she’s lying?”
Lilburn sighed. Retaining his grasp on the steering wheel, he looked straight ahead. “You know, I knew a schoolteacher once, knew a thing or two. She said there were always two sides to the story. You hear one kid say, ‘Yeah, Billy hit me three times, Miss’, then you hear Billy’s story, the complete opposite. Do I believe Lopez… let’s just say I’ll need a whole lot more convincing before I do. When I asked her about Ian Bradley, she hit the roof — and pretty much told me she was lying. Now I want to find out why. If she had our boys killed then I’ll meet her head on.”
They both stepped out of the vehicle. “It’s your last night here, so what do you want to do, Doc?”
Placing a hand lightly on his chest, Evangeline looked up at him. “Give me some time to lie down. I’ll come over in about an hour or so.”
Lilburn watched her elegant back as she walked to her unit. He would miss her.
In his unit, with time to kill, Lilburn eased himself into a lounge chair, which had clearly been designed for practicality rather than comfort. His thoughts wandered back over the last few hectic days. The funerals were coming up shortly, he would need to hire a suit. Tomorrow would be spent traveling down to Plum Island and on to the JFK airport. Evangeline’s flight had been confirmed for 1900 hours — which meant an early start if he intended to get to Plum. And Bomani was still out there. Somewhere. Bomani wouldn’t contact Lopez directly, or vice versa, he was sure of that. The Egyption was too cunning. Lilburn took his mobile phone and dialed Director Hall.
The events of the afternoon were conveyed, together with notice of his intended visit to Plum Island. Hall thanked him for the update and then excused himself, as something had come up.