Kreiss said nothing, staring straight ahead.
“It’s a no-brainer, Edwin.”
He hesitated, then said, “I need a minute.”
“Take a lot. Take two. I know where to find you.”
The phone subsided into a hissing noise. Janet was paralyzed: She absolutely did not know what to do. Kreiss closed his eyes and then the handset shattered in his white-knuckled grip. Janet tried to think of an argument, a reason, any reason for him not to take the woman’s deal, but she knew there wasn’t one. Not after what he’d heard Assistant Director Greer say. Son of a bitch} “I’m trying to think of an argument not to do what she wants,” she said.
“For the life of me, I can’t.”
“There isn’t one,” he said, dropping the broken handset onto the seat and moving back to his side of the front seat, his hand opening and closing.
“Can you tell me what it is the bosses want so badly?” she asked.
“A graphic file. A picture of a letter. Signed by the deputy AG. Garrette himself. Sent to Ephraim Glower. Telling him that Justice was attaching one of his bank accounts.”
Janet didn’t understand.
“Why is that important?”
He rubbed the sides of his face with his hands. Then he turned to look at her, his eyes hollow. His expression scared her.
“Glower didn’t kill himself and his family because he was going to be uncovered as a servant of the Chinese government. He killed himself because they took the money back.”
“What money? And who is ‘they’?”
“The money he’d been paid to derail the espionage investigation for all those years. He’d run through the family fortune, but this Chinese money was going to save his ass. When they got caught taking the illegal campaign contributions—you know, the Hong Kong connection money—the reelection committee opted to give it all back. Some of that, a couple of million, had been used to pay off Glower. So they used Justice to get the IRS to attach Glower’s bank accounts. That meant Glower was now broke again. That’s why he did it.”
“The reelection committee knew about Glower? My God! That means’ Yeah he said, scanning the area around the car again.
“Anyone who has that letter can tie the Chinese campaign contributions to a quid pro quo: a fee paid for services rendered. Access to our nuclear weapons secrets in return for several millions in campaign contributions. Not directly, of course. Through the Hong Kong cutout. Basically, anyone who knows the case would recognize the letter as the smoking gun. Only problem was, the political side lost their nerve. What a surprise.”
She took a deep breath and tried to get her mind around all this.
“What was your deal?” she asked.
“When you were terminated?”
“Glower called Agency security to have me thrown out of his house that day I went to confront him. But I went back a few hours later. Found him and his entire family slaughtered. Very obvious suicide. Maybe too obvious, now that I think about it. Like that White House lawyer? Anyhow, he had a wall safe. I broke into it, found the letter.”
“They found the safe, they knew somebody knew too much.”
“Something like that. Initially, they didn’t know who, or what. Later, after the investigation, they began to figure it out. They knew it had to be me, so they threatened the only remaining thing of value I had: Lynn.
The threat was pretty clear. If I agreed to remain silent, they agreed to leave her alone.”
“Why didn’t they just move against you?”
“Because by then, I had a lock on them: AD Marchand was part of it.
He’d been taking care of the FBI end. I let Marchand know that I had documentary evidence on the real reason Glower killed himself. Anything happened to me or Lynn, there was a mechanism in place that would guarantee that information would get to the appropriate congressional committee chairmen. When I told Marchand what it was, he just about fainted. Basically, I had a gun to the administration’s head. They had a gun to Lynn’s head. A lock.”
“And it held until Lynn disappeared,” she said.
“Oh, that’s why they came, not because of any phony bomb cell. With her gone, you had no more reason to keep quiet.”
“Precisely, Special Agent.” He sighed.
“Only there was a bomb cell, wasn’t there. That was the kicker. Browne McGarand and his merry band.”
“What would happen if Greer and the director got their hands on this letter?”
“They’ll burn Marchand and Garrette right down. After that, it’s whatever deal the director wants to make with the attorney general herself.
Based on all the friction these past five years, they’ll have a lot to talk about, don’t you think? Problem is, now I can’t give it to you.”
“What! Why not?”
“I’ve already explained that. Lynn.”
She stared out the window for a moment.
“You’re wrong, you know,” she said.
“About the lock. They will have learned from all this. You get Lynn back this time, they’ll just send someone else. There’s an infinite supply of them. Even if you take that woman out there, they’ll tap someone else. Someone maybe worse than she is. You have to turn loose of what you know. That’s the only thing that’ll put this thing to rest.”
He started to say something, to argue with her, but then stopped. He was listening. She went for broke.
“The problem with your so-called lock is that you’re just one individual,” she said.
“Okay, you’re Edwin Kreiss. But the G’s gotten too big. Too powerful. Trust me, I’m part of it—I know. One man? No chance. Lynn will never be safe until you give up what you have to another government agency. Let them get a lock. Hoover-style. Then everyone will leave you alone. Otherwise, you’re condemned to a permanent hunting season.”
She stopped. She was almost afraid to look at him. She could feel his anger. The clock on the dashboard advanced silently, each increment increasing the tension between them.
“You mean give the Bureau the lock.”
“Exactly. The organization can make it stick. As a lone individual, you can’t. No disrespect intended.”
He took a deep breath and let it out in a prolonged sigh.
“What the hell,” he said finally through clenched teeth.
“I’m getting too old for this shit. I hid it in Marchand’s own archives, FCI Division.”
“Sweet Jesus,” she whispered.
“It’s right there? In the fucking Hoover Building?”
“Right there. File name: Year of the Rat. Just like that book. Password:
Amoral.” He gave a cold smile.
“Think they’ll be embarrassed?”
Janet could just imagine.
“What happens now?” she asked.
He looked at his watch.
“I just made a deal, and now I need to ask another favor. I need you to cover Lynn for a while, once Misty releases her.”
“And you?”
“She has orders to retrieve me,” he said, pulling down his hood.
“I have other plans. One of us will prevail. Will you take care of Lynn for me?”
“Yes, of course, but—” He opened the door and got out. Then he leaned back in.
“If I survive this, you’ll eventually know about it. But I’m going to have to go underground for a while until the elephants sort things out in Washington.”
Knowing she might not ever see him again, she felt she had to ask.
“What was it like being on your own for all those years? Hunting people down, making up the rules as you went along?”