‘You know, I worked in Washington a long time. I didn’t tell you that one of the many reasons I was glad to leave there is the constant swirl of the cesspool of conspiracy theories. I can’t stand them.’
Yet you traffic in gossip, Raveneau thought, but said, ‘I don’t think this group is quite as big or with the reach imagined, but I’ve read transcripts and heard tapes and have other reasons now to believe they’re serious and exist, and have existed for some time. There’s a link to counterfeit money that I’m not sure I could explain if I wanted to right now. I will tell you that FBI and Secret Service are working on this together.’
‘They wouldn’t know how to work together. They’d need a task force for that.’
‘Point is, both agencies are worried.’
Before making the call Raveneau had decided to take a chance with Fine. He pushed forward.
‘You know about the quadruple murder at the cabinet shop, finding the bomb casings and the subsequent focus on Khan.’
‘I know the FBI screwed up and lost them.’
‘But you probably don’t know the extent of the finger pointing about law enforcement leaks. No, that’s not right. Leak isn’t the correct word. It’s when everyone became aware the other side understands how the FBI surveillance teams work.’
‘This is the type of conspiracy talk I moved west to escape.’
‘Right now, I’m sitting in a rented car in a little town on the north end of the Big Island in Hawaii. My partner is here but she’s not with me because she’s on a former sugar plantation inland a few miles from here where a few hours ago we found the body of an FBI agent murdered today. Earlier in the afternoon we were ambushed and shot at and my partner then shot dead the assailant who happens to be the quasi-adopted son of someone suspected as being at least peripherally part of this conspiracy. Are you following me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you see why I’m coming around to believing there’s something behind this conspiracy theory, so you may too. I think the young man who shot at us today will turn out to be the shooter at the cabinet shop but that killing them was not part of the original plan. It was a contingency plan that he acted on by himself.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘We’ll get there but not yet, not tonight. When the time comes I’ll talk to you first if you’re still alive.’
‘Why do you keep saying that?’
‘Because I think you’re in real danger. I don’t have any proof but I think it’s likely you’re in position to put things together. You got that first scoop on the bomb casings and now you’ve got this one on the President’s travel plans and-’
‘Look, I’m just a few hours ahead of everyone else.’
‘I started thinking that your old friend isn’t giving you information just to help you with your blog or in trade for something in the future. I think he’s getting something back from you at the same time he’s giving you something.’
‘I could take a lot of offense to that.’
‘You could but don’t take it yet because it’s only speculation and it’s just one idea. Here’s another. You’re being used as a conduit to get information out. Your source is using you. Your source is involved.’
‘That’s absurd. You have no idea what you’re saying.’
‘My killer in the 1989 murder was probably right around twenty-six or seven at the time. He’s dark-haired, medium build, and was experienced with guns when he shot Alan Krueger. People who knew him then believed he worked for our government out of DC. He may have been tied to an investigative unit. He may have worked with our victim on a counterfeit one hundred dollar bill investigation and not just any bills, but the first supernotes. To be that young and working on something like that he must have been tagged as gifted and capable. Today, with a combination of photos and the videotape of the killing we told you about, we got an ID on him.’
‘Who ID’ed him?’
‘A woman whose name I can’t give you yet. She ID’ed him and then struggled with his last name. She was confident about the first name, but not about the last. But I don’t want to give away too much information yet, and you probably don’t either, so let’s do this in steps. I’m going to give you initials and you tell me if they mean anything to you. If they do, then I’m probably right.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘C.G.’
Raveneau heard him breathing. He waited. He looked out at the night, the empty road below and knew he’d hit home. The delay was too long.
‘Why should I believe any of this?’
‘You don’t have to. I can hang up right now. Do you want me to do that?’
‘No, don’t hang up. I just don’t see how it’s possible.’
‘I’m not sure what I believe either, but pieces are coming together and two more people died today. One of them tried to kill my partner and me.’
Fine now sounded as if he was struggling for breath as he said, ‘Greiston. Colin Greiston. He’s on his way out. He gets into SFO sometime in the next few days. He’s going to try to make time to see me.’
‘You don’t want to make that meeting. I’m going to call the FBI and an agent named Mark Coe. He’s the only one you should talk to at this point. Do you have anything you can write with or do you want me to text his cell number to your wife’s phone?’
‘I’ve got something to write with.’
Raveneau gave him Coe’s number and listened as he recited it back. Then he told Fine, ‘I’m going to call him now and you should call in ten minutes, but use your wife’s phone. Just to be safe don’t use your computer or any of your phones. Tell me again when Greiston said he would come through.’
‘Day after tomorrow.’
‘Do you have friends you can stay with?’
‘What?’
‘If I were you I’d go somewhere he won’t look for you.’
FIFTY-EIGHT
The bomb casings were real. Jericho worked as a password on Casey’s laptops and Coe revealed last night the FBI was aware of a Hawaiian link. They got that through an IP address, though not one linked yet to Casey. After his conversation with Coe late last night it was clear the Feds would help hunt for Colin Greiston. He expected to hear more this morning. He hoped Coe would call early and say they had taken him into custody in Washington. But from what Fine said it was just as likely Greiston was on the move and Casey was still missing. Casey was Jericho and losing him was big. Casey could easily have alerted everyone he was in contact with. No doubt they had a plan for shutting everything down.
But in the dawn Raveneau sat in front of a computer looking at a satellite image of the east Mojave Desert. He pulled up articles on the solar thermal plants being built there and thought about the President’s impending west coast trip. When completed, these solar thermal projects would double US solar capacity and become the largest solar installations in the world. He looked at photos of the dry lakebed in the Ivanpah Valley where the plant would be built, and at renderings of what it would look like when finished. He drank more coffee. He mulled over the conversation with Fine last night and then his phone rang.
He hoped it was Coe. He hoped Coe would say they found Casey and arrested Greiston and he and la Rosa could fly home knowing the plot was foiled and Krueger’s killer was on his way to justice. It was la Rosa asking if he’d heard anything yet.
‘Nothing yet.’
‘A lot of this may go down when we’re sitting in an airplane.’
‘It could.’
‘Let’s hope they find Greiston first.’
Raveneau hoped that as well, but he doubted they would. He kept talking with la Rosa and walked out on the small balcony deck. Clouds wrapping Mauna Loa turned pink then crimson in the sunrise. They were leaving for Kona Airport within the hour, their routing a reverse of the flight over, back through Los Angeles and then north.
‘I just don’t get it,’ she said. ‘I don’t get Casey. I don’t get the philosophy. He’s got money. He’s got that beautiful ranch. He’s living in friggin’ Hawaii. What more does he need. Why would someone like him join a conspiracy?’