Black showed a smile, then said, “Let’s call the feds. Jake, you’ve got the connection . . .”
Novatny picked up the phone and asked, “Have you seen Madison Bowe?”
“She’s here, hiding out,” Jake said. “She’s afraid a Watchman will find her and throw her out a window.”
“That’s about eighty percent bullshit,” Novatny said. “I think Barber jumped.”
“That’s not what they’re saying on TV—and the FBI’s not talking to us, if you remember. Ol’ buddy.”
“Yeah, well . . . Is she going to talk to us?”
“She’ll talk to you or a DOJ lawyer. Her attorney’s with her now,” Jake said. Across the living room, Johnson Black wiggled his thick eyebrows. “I don’t know what they’re talking about, but they’ve been in the study for a while.”
“We’re talking about Johnson Black?” Novatny asked.
“Yup. They told me to call you. Do you want to come here, or do you want them to come there?”
“Really?” Novatny was skeptical.
“Really.”
“It’d be more convenient if she came here.”
“Give her half an hour,” Jake said. “Where do you want her exactly?”
“My office. Call ahead—I’d like to take a walk around the block with you, before we go upstairs.”
“With me?”
“Yup. A chat. Nothing sworn, no wires, no games. Just talk. Two ol’ buddies.”
“See you in an hour,” Jake said.
They went in two cars, Johnson Black leading in his limo, Madison and Jake following. They called ahead and found Novatny waiting at a pull-in parking strip, accompanied by what looked like an intern or possibly a random teenager. Novatny said, “Park where you are.”
“The signs say that’s illegal,” Jake said; a row of signs warned of heavy fines and immediate towing.
“Joshua here is going to guard the cars. He’ll shoot anybody who objects,” Novatny said. “C’mon, Jake. Two hundred yards.”
They went off together, Jake tapping along with his stick, Madison moving up to Black’s limo for a last-minute conference. Jake said, “So. What do you need?”
“I want to know what the White House is doing,” Novatny said. “If we’re about to have nine million pounds of shit land on our heads.”
“Judging from the television . . .”
Novatny stopped and turned. “Fuck the television, Jake. I want to know if we’re going to get hammered. If I’m on my way to Boise, if Mavis is going to get shuffled off to a basement somewhere.” Mavis Sanders was Novatny’s boss. “If I should quit and get a security job before it’s too late.”
Jake shook his head: “Chuck, I honest to God don’t know. The White House cut me loose a couple of days ago, closed the consulting contract. I may be on my way back, though. Something else came up.”
Novatny was interested. “Having to do with this case?”
“Having to do with something serious. Maybe related, maybe not. I can tell you, just between us ol’ buddies, it’s not this penny-ante shit you’ve been dealing with so far. Lincoln Bowe and Howard Barber.”
Novatny rubbed his forehead. “Not like this penny-ante shit? This penny-ante shit? Jesus Christ, Jake.”
“I’m telling you this because we’ve worked together, and I like you, and I like Mavis,” Jake said. “Get yourself braced for something coming from an entirely new direction. Political. You should know about it in twenty-four hours, forty-eight at the outside. I’ll try to get them to bring it directly to you and your office. You’ll be a star for bringing it in. You’ll go in a history book.”
“What do you want? For doing that?”
“Consideration,” Jake said.
“Consideration?”
“Yeah. We want some consideration. If we don’t get it, somebody’s going to shove some consideration up your ass and break it off. With what’s coming, you can look at it two ways—you can decide whether every niggling little procedure’s been followed, or you can go for the substance. If you go for the substance, you’ll be okay. I think. But that’s just me doing the thinking.”
Novatny licked his lower lip. “They’ve got some good hunting out of Boise.”
“Didn’t know you hunted,” Jake said.
“I don’t. That’s what I hear from the guys who’ve been there,” Novatny said. “That’s what they always say. ‘There’s some good hunting out of Boise.’ ”
“Well, that’s one thing.”
Novatny looked up and down the block. Joshua was guarding the cars like a hawk. “I’ll tell you, Jake. I’ve never worried too much about procedure. I’ve always been a substance guy. So’s my whole office.”
“You’re speaking for the office? For Mavis?”
“I am.”
“Substance is good. This new thing that’s coming, it has everybody so scared that we’ve literally been hiding out,” Jake said. “I’m afraid to let Madison out of my sight. I’m afraid somebody’s going to kill her, like those people in Wisconsin.”
“Ah, shit. The new stuff has to do with that?”
“It might. I’m not sure. You’ll know soon enough.”
They finished their walk and Novatny said, “Do what you can, man.” He collected Madison and Black and disappeared into the building, Madison turning to give Jake a finger wave before she went in. Novatny walked beside her, awkwardly straightening and restraightening his tie. If you didn’t know better, Jake thought, you might have thought Novatny was the one being investigated.
Jake got on his cell phone, called Gina in Danzig’s office.
“I need to talk to the man.”
“Things are intense right now,” Gina said. “Let me see if I can find him. I’ll call you back.”
“Tell him it’s critical. He has a real need to know this.”
“I’ll tell him,” she said. Her voice was absolutely neutral.
Fifty-fifty, Jake thought when she’d hung up. Fifty-fifty that they’d call. If they didn’t, he’d really been cut loose.
But Danzig got back in five minutes. “What’s going on?”
“Things are moving. There may soon be a settlement in the FBI/Madison Bowe/guy-thrown-out-the-window situation. My guy Novatny says he’s not interested in procedural matters. Only in substance.”
“You think that’ll hold?”
Jake nodded at his phone. “I do. It’s in everybody’s interest.” The Rule: Who benefits?
“You better get over here. I’ll have Gina put you on the log.”
Gina was five degrees on the warm side of neutral when Jake got to Danzig’s office. She shipped him straight through: “He’s tired. Take it easy.”
Danzig was wary: “There are rumors that you’ve gotten close to Madison Bowe.”
“They’re true,” Jake said. “But I’m still working for you—my loyalty runs to you. You don’t want to know everything that’s happened, but I think we’re in a place where everybody can be accommodated.”
Danzig nodded, and waited. He wasn’t giving anything away.
Jake said, “We need to get the package to the FBI. To Novatny, specifically. Novatny is willing to argue a particular view: that they should stick to the substance of the package, and not nitpick the procedure that got the package to them. So the question is, Where are you with the vice president?”
Danzig exhaled, relief showing on his face. “If they’ll do that . . .”
“We’re in a position to insist on it. I’ve already had a preliminary talk with Novatny, and he agreed; he said he was talking for Mavis Sanders, his boss. They have no idea of what’s coming and we’re delivering it to them. We had an absolutely solid reason for holding it for a few days, to check and make sure that it wasn’t a complete election-year fraud. When we realized it wasn’t, we acted as swiftly as anyone could expect . . . as long as we get it to them soon.”