He heard her gasp. He heard something close to a sob.
‘I heard shots. I heard them and when I saw him on the ground I knew that’s what they had been, but I told your inspectors I didn’t hear anything. Our orders were to be truthful to a point but to disengage.’
‘Those were your instructions?’
‘Yes, we called in before reporting the murder. It was presumed your Secret Service would be involved in the investigation.’
‘Where did he go?’
‘The other man?’
‘Yes.’
‘I wondered if he had a car parked in that lot or someone waiting in a van or something and he stayed low and got to his ride. He must have driven off somehow.’
‘How long did you wait?’
‘We were cautious. We proceeded toward the pillars and saw him lying there. When we didn’t see the other man we moved in. You want to know how long, don’t you? It was less than five minutes.’
‘Did you see anyone else watching?’
She hesitated and Raveneau knew he was giving her an opening.
‘Possibly.’
‘Possibly you saw someone else?’
‘Yes, and we were watching everyone of course. We assumed the man meeting with Krueger might have backup or accomplices.’
‘Backup? Did you think he was with the Secret Service?’
‘Until we saw him lying there we thought it possible. There was another man who seemed to be lurking in the car lot. He was taking too long and making too much of a fuss about rearranging things in his car, but he was there before they crossed the street.’
‘You were able to make out his face.’
‘Somewhat. Not well.’
‘You had your binoculars out now.’
Again, she hesitated.
‘Yes, but that man left before we passed through the cars. He backed out and left and we went forward and found Krueger. We checked to see if he was alive. No, Larry checked. I didn’t check. I saw his skull. I saw he was dead. It was obvious he was dead.’
‘Was Larry looking for the counterfeit bills?’
‘Yes.’
‘Let’s talk about the wallet.’
‘Yes, I lied to you last time we met. We left the passports but we wanted the rest of the ID, credit cards, driver’s licenses, and we wanted the counterfeit money. Larry didn’t find the money. It wasn’t in the wallet and we thought the man who shot him took it.’
‘You knew San Francisco police would investigate.’
‘Yes.’
‘So why did you strip his wallet?’
‘We had our own investigation and we turned the effects over. Your Secret Service got them. We didn’t leave the country with any of it, just copies. The actual documents we mailed to your Secret Service office in San Francisco and we confirmed they got them. It was understood they would turn them over to the homicide inspectors.’
‘That’s not the same.’
‘I know it isn’t. I knew what we were doing was wrong. We took evidence from the scene.’
‘Who did you notify at the Secret Service?’
‘Larry made the phone call. I don’t know who he spoke to.’
‘You didn’t ask?’
‘By then I didn’t want to know. I was very shaken by the killing. You have to understand we were pencil pushers. I came from university in accounting and mathematics. Half of what we were always doing was forensics. We tried to figure out where someone had been and where money had traveled. With Alan Krueger we knew something was up. He had acquired a way of disappearing, so we guessed he was operating under other aliases. Hardly unusual, but we were very interested to know where he stayed in Vancouver and under what name, and what kind of offer he would make us.’
‘Who killed Alan Krueger?’
She was quiet a long moment.
‘It’s all you really want, isn’t it? You don’t really care about any of the rest of this.’
‘Who do you think killed him?’
‘Either the criminal elements he was dealing with who didn’t like the exchange rate, or your government took him out because he was playing both sides.’
‘Our government?’
‘Yes.’
‘Barbara, I like you. I like it that you were willing to meet with me and talk and that you want to get this off your chest, but it feels to me as if you’re still holding back. It feels as if you’ve colluded on a new version with Larry that’s missing some details. If I didn’t have the videotape I’d have to look at you as suspects.’
Her voice was much harder as she answered, ‘That’s already been done and I can’t solve the murder for you. I’ve tried to clear this whole godawful thing. I don’t know what else to do. I’m going to say good bye now.’
‘Barbara, wait,’ but she was gone.
FORTY-NINE
Fox News speculated that a Republican President wouldn’t have canceled the trip to San Francisco. Other media focused on the search for the missing explosive devices. Photos of the devices showed. A headline read ‘Thousands Could Die.’ The White House press secretary stressed that it wasn’t the President’s decision to cancel the San Francisco trip, it was Secret Service caution. The Secret Service linked the decision to a credible threat that they couldn’t elaborate on and so for twenty-four hours the media just winged it.
Raveneau clicked on a video, a three minute in-depth interview with a terrorist expert who appeared to be speaking from a chair in the study of his home. He tied the bomb casing design and pattern of delivery to Al Qaeda. He sounded quite certain but Raveneau had to cut him off to take a call from Becker.
‘A package delivered,’ Becker said. ‘From Hawaii.’ Raveneau heard him inhale. ‘I’m in my office. Why don’t we open it together?’
‘See you in a few minutes.’
When Raveneau walked into the office he quietly shut the door behind him. The FedEx box sat center of Becker’s desk.
‘I have an agreement with Captain Ramirez that I don’t hold things like this on my desk after I’ve opened them. It’ll go to him this afternoon.’
‘You told me that yesterday. You told me a couple of times.’
‘I just don’t want there to be any misunderstanding.’
‘OK, but you don’t have to build a firewall between us. I understand what you have to do.’
Raveneau stared at the box but kept thinking about Barbara Haney and the glibness with which she had lied to him and backtracked. He watched Becker root around in his desk looking for something to cut the packing tape with. And then a text came from Ortega. He read that and laid the phone down. His phone buzzed with other calls but he didn’t look at the screen, instead watched Becker lift out an object encased in bubble wrap.
‘Has a little weight to it,’ Becker said. ‘Not much, but something, more than a letter or a CD.’
Didn’t look like one either and when Raveneau saw Becker was unsure what to do with it he said, ‘Can I take a look?’
Becker handed it to him and as soon as he had it in hand he knew what it was. Raveneau cut away the plastic wrap and Becker said, ‘That goes straight to the crime lab.’
Raveneau nodded.
‘What type of Glock is that?’
One of the things Raveneau liked about Becker was he didn’t pay much attention to guns. Never had and he was notoriously bad out on the range. Raveneau figured it was one of the reasons Becker had such a high solve rate. He always focused on motive, on why things happened.
‘This is the model the Austrian engineer Gaston Glock started with. This is a Glock 17. It shoots a nine, a nine by nineteen millimeter parabellum, the NATO standard and one of the design requirements when Glock came up with this gun.’
Raveneau studied it a little longer then folded the bubble wrap back over. He was careful not to touch it. He looked up at Becker and said, ‘Alan Krueger was shot with a nine.’