“I’m working on that, Commissioner.”
“You do that, Lieutenant.” He hung up.
Marconi hung up and called his lab.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“Have you come up with anything on that explosive I sent you?”
“Funny you should mention that, Lieutenant. I just did.”
“Tell me.”
“You know, a few years back, there was an experimental program started that was supposed to help us trace explosives?”
“No, I didn’t know that. What kind of program?”
“The idea was that the manufacturer would place a marker in the explosive that would allow it to be traced back to the manufacturer, who would keep a record of who the explosive was sold to.”
“Did it work?”
“Sure, it worked, but Congress wouldn’t pass a law allowing that to be done. There was another suggestion that ammunition could be marked the same way, and they were apparently afraid the NRA would shout that they were infringing on gun owners’ rights, so they wouldn’t approve it for either ammunition or explosives.”
“So why are you telling me all this?”
“Because, Lieutenant, the explosive you sent me was apparently part of the experimental program. It contained a tracer element.”
“So, did you trace it?”
“Yes, sir. I called the manufacturer, and they were able to look it up and tell me who they sold it to.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense, man, who did they sell it to?”
“The CIA.”
Marconi’s jaw dropped. “You’re telling me that the explosive I sent you came from the CIA?”
“That’s what I’m telling you, Lieutenant. So I called the CIA, and eventually I got connected to somebody in the technical services division, who would have issued the explosive to somebody at the Agency.”
“And who did they issue it to?”
“They wouldn’t tell me.”
“What? Did you explain that the explosive was part of a criminal investigation?”
“I did, sir, but they denied all knowledge of it. So I guess it was kind of a dead end.”
Marconi groaned. He thanked the man and hung up. He called the commissioner back but got his voice mail, so he left a message describing his conversation with the lab.
42
Stone got to Patroon first and ordered drinks for both himself and Dino. They arrived just as Dino did.
“I’m impressed with your timing,” Dino said.
“You’re easily impressed — I just wanted a drink, and I didn’t want to wait for you.”
“I figured. I just thought I’d make you feel better after what must have been a depressing day.”
“Why would you think it was a depressing day? I got the deal closed, and I’m going to make zillions of dollars from it, eventually.”
“Gee, I don’t know, I thought it might have been depressing for you to come within a second of getting your ass scattered all over the Upper East Side.”
“On the other hand, it was exhilarating for that to not happen. You have to look on the bright side, Dino. Otherwise, who would have had a drink waiting for you?”
Dino took a swig. “You’re right, I feel better already.”
“I’m so glad.”
“Listen, I got some interesting news from my people this afternoon.”
“I’m always interested in the interesting.”
“Turns out the explosive in Macher’s bomb was an experimental batch that contained a trace marker that allowed the manufacturer to have a record of who it was delivered to.”
“You’re right, that is certainly interesting. To whom was it delivered?”
“The CIA.”
“Aha!”
“Don’t aha so fast, my friend, they won’t tell us who — rather, to whom — they issued it.”
“Well, that’s annoying of them, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is, but we have an in with the Agency, don’t we?”
“And who is that?”
“That is you.”
“You think they’d tell me?”
“You’re Lance Cabot’s fair-haired boy — he’d tell you.”
“I question your assessment of the fairness of my hair in Lance’s eyes, so let me rephrase the question. You think Lance would tell me who checked out the explosive, then testify to that in open court? I think he might well express a certain reluctance to participate in that scenario.”
“You have a point, but you’re making it without reference to your gift of persuasion, especially where Lance is concerned.”
“Oh? Kindly quote me an example of when I persuaded Lance to do something for me. It’s always the other way around, and Lance’s persuasion is always tainted with a veiled threat about what might befall me if I should not be persuaded.”
“Okay, you persuaded him to sell you that house in Paris that the Agency owned, and at a minimal price, if memory serves.”
“That was only because Lance desperately wanted something from me.”
“And what was that something?”
“I don’t recall offhand, but it must have been something really important to make him that desperate. Also, it was very expensive for the Agency to maintain the place as a safe house, and they hardly ever used it. I’m sure the General Services Administration was pleased to have it off their books.”
“I forget what point I was trying to prove.”
“You were trying to persuade me that I could persuade Lance to give me the name of the person who signed out the explosive, and then to testify to that in open court.”
“Oh, yes, I remember now.”
“I’m so relieved. I had thought you were exhibiting signs of early-onset dementia.”
“Not in the least. Will you call Lance?”
“Only if we can think of something to give Lance in return, something that he really wants.”
There followed three minutes of silent contemplation.
“I can’t think of a thing,” Dino said finally.
“Neither can I.” Stone got out his cell phone. “I’ll call Lance.”
“Good idea. Put it on speaker.”
Stone did so.
“This is Cabot. Why are you calling me at this time of night?”
“Because I know you work at all hours, Lance.”
“Ah, Stone, to what do I owe this dubious pleasure?”
“I thought, Lance, that you might derive some satisfaction from helping to imprison a former CIA agent, a thoroughgoing rogue who is a contemptible and murderous swine.”
“As inviting as imprisoning a contemptible and murderous swine sounds, I cannot imagine how I could help.”
“Then I’ll clear it up for you. The former agent checked out a quantity of plastic explosive from your technical services division some time back, and after performing whatever task he had in mind, he retained a considerable portion of that explosive until this very morning, when he deployed it in an attempt to murder everyone at a meeting at which I was in attendance, not to mention a few dozen innocents in adjacent buildings on the Upper East Side of this city. We were saved only by a passing Labrador retriever who was skilled in the arts of explosive sniffing.”
“A passing Labrador retriever? One on the sidewalk, sniffing for a place to do his business, who just happened to zero in on some plastic explosive at your meeting?”
“It was a she, name of Bessie, but all right, she was actually attending the meeting, in the company of her owner, when she began barking at the fireplace. The bomb was contained in a wood box next to same, which, at Bessie’s suggestion, I opened just in time to disconnect a cell phone attached to said explosive. A moment later, it rang.”
“I hope you answered it.”
“I did, and on the other end was the aforesaid contemptible, murderous swine, name of Erik Macher.”
“Ah!” Lance said. “I believe I do recall that person, and you have described him accurately.”