“So you think it was a homicide?”
“That’s what’s so crazy about it,” Carla said. “How could anybody get into the Capitol with a gun, then walk into the House cloakroom, shoot a congressman, walk away? It seems impossible.”
“Somebody with the right credentials,” Viv said. “Somebody who wouldn’t get noticed. A staffer? Another congressman? A Democrat, perhaps.”
She laughed. “Your guess is as good as mine. The Capitol Police and the FBI are all over it, and they haven’t come up with a thing.” Carla looked around. “Where is the ladies’ room?”
Stone pointed the way, and she left the table.
“You all set for your meeting on Monday?” Dino asked.
“I believe so,” Stone replied. “What about your end?”
“Well, it’s a lot more complicated than what you have to do,” Dino replied. “More dangerous, too.”
“More dangerous than Dolce?”
“Well, maybe not, now that you mention it.”
“I think you’re both crazy,” Viv said. “You, especially, Dino. If this goes wrong, you’re going to be out of a job. They’ll drum you out of the department.”
“You could say that about half the decisions I make,” Dino said. “It goes with the territory, and I’m okay with that. Besides, Mike Freeman would be glad to have another Bacchetti over at Strategic Services.”
Carla came back, and they ordered dinner.
Will and Kate Lee had a late supper in the White House family quarters after a reception in the East Room earlier in the evening.
Will brought the Sunday New York Times upstairs with him, and they went over the big story of the day while they waited for their dinner to be served.
“I wish this had happened before the election,” Kate said. “We might have won a few more House seats on the back of this story.”
“If this had come out before the election,” Will said, “they would have found a way to blame me for it.”
Kate laughed. “They’re very good at that, aren’t they?”
“I think they teach a course in blaming the president at that CPAC shindig. You’ll see, it’ll be your turn soon.”
“Oh, I think I’ll get a pretty good honeymoon — until after the baby is born, anyway.”
“That may be true,” Will said, “and it may not be.”
“And then we’ll get a week of baby pictures in the papers and magazines.”
“The country does love a baby, doesn’t it?”
“All the world loves a baby.”
“It’s a pity we can’t auction the pictures,” Will said. “We’d be set for life on the proceeds.”
“Maybe we should sell the pictures to somebody who’ll give a lot of money to a good cause.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know, the National Organization for Women? Planned Parenthood?”
Will laughed. “I like it,” he chuckled.
58
Early on Monday morning Dino sat at a table in a police vehicle made to look like an ordinary camper and went over a well-marked large-scale map of the area that included the Bianchi estate.
“Okay,” Dino said to the Special Operations captain in charge of the unit, “tell me how you’re going to approach the house.”
“We’ve got a detail of a dozen men up this creek at a little marina,” the captain said. “At half past one PM they’ll come down the creek by boat and land at the estate’s dock, which can’t be seen from the house. They’ll conceal themselves in the woods around the old stone barn and wait for my command over the radio.”
“What about the front of the house?”
“We borrowed the Scali painting company van, which is large, and we’ll send that up the driveway to the service drive that branches off. We’ll unload four men near the kitchen door, and they’ll go in with buckets of paint and their weapons concealed in drop cloths. Once inside, they’re going to have to play it by ear.”
“I want you to explain to your people that this man may seem old, but he’s very dangerous, especially with a knife.”
“They already understand that, boss.”
“And I want every one of them to understand that nobody is to risk his own life to take this guy alive. Do I make myself clear?”
“If he’s armed, shoot first and ask questions later, right?”
“That’s one way to put it. Another way to put it is: we don’t have enough on this guy to convict him, but we know that he’s the one who cut up the priest and who got rid of Carmine Corretti’s body, which we haven’t found yet. I do not want him to walk.”
“I read you, boss,” the captain said.
“Where’s the white van going to be?”
“Right where we are now. They’ll respond to my radio call to go in.”
“How many people?”
“Three, and they know what they’re doing.”
“I want at least one armed cop with them.”
“I can do that.”
“Dress him for the occasion.”
“Right.”
“Now, we’ve had a change of plan. We’re not sending the van to New Jersey, it’s going right here.” Dino tapped the map. “We worked it with the Feds.”
“That’s much more convenient,” the captain said.
“Have the people in the van been told that this is a twenty-four-hour job for them?”
“That’s been made clear.”
“They’ve got the paperwork they need?”
“We’ve double-checked that — it’s all in order.”
Dino went over a list in his notebook. “Okay, that’s all I’ve got. I’m going to the office, and I want you on your cell phone with me for the whole operation. I want to know, step by step, how it’s going.”
“I’ll be in touch the whole time,” the captain said.
“And remember, there will be two civilians in the house, and I don’t want them roughed up in the process or, worse, shot.”
“I’m on top of that, boss.”
Dino was having trouble leaving the RV. “I hope to hell that I haven’t forgotten anything.”
“Don’t worry, boss, we’ll get this done right.”
“I’m counting on that,” Dino said, “and I don’t want any statements to the press coming out of your unit, and I don’t want any leaks, either. We’ll make this public at the right moment.”
“We’re a tight bunch, boss, nobody’s going to leak.”
Dino shook the captain’s hand, left the RV, and got into his car. “Okay, let’s go to the office,” he said to the driver.
He had never in his life been more nervous.
59
Stone closed his briefcase and took a few deep breaths. He was perspiring lightly, and he dabbed at his face with a tissue from the holder on his desk. Joan came into his office.
“This came for you by messenger,” she said, handing him a small wrapped package. “No return address.”
Stone accepted the package, waited for her to leave, then unwrapped it, exposing a plastic box. He examined the contents, then closed it and put it into his briefcase.
Joan buzzed him. “Fred is outside with the car and Mary Ann Bianchi,” she said. She peered into his face. “You don’t look so good. Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine,” Stone said. “Gotta run.” He left through the office’s outside door and got into the waiting Bentley.
“Good day,” Mary Ann said. He thought she didn’t look so good, either.
“And good day to you. Fred? You know where we’re going?”
“I do, sir,” Fred replied, and the car moved out smoothly.
“Why do you and I have to do this, Stone?” Mary Ann asked.