“Maybe nothing, unless you’re Connelly’s family back home.”
“Floyd had a big government insurance policy. It actually will save the taxpayers some money. Maybe his wife had him pushed. I hear she’s not that upset, a bit of a merry widow. It’s as if she won the lottery, you know, and she doesn’t have to be worried about a wandering husband any more.”
“You disgust me sometimes, Mark. That’s a human life you’re talking about.”
“What else is on your mind, LaDuca? You carry yourself well, but you can be a pain in the neck.”
They stopped walking. He glanced at the palace and continued before she could say anything.
“Hell of a building, isn’t it, the palace? But you know what? They should chainsaw that palace into condos and make some money with the way the economy is crashing. I don’t care much for the Spaniards, truth be known. They invented the auto-da-fé here, you know. What’s the old jingle? What a day, what a day, for an auto-da-fé.”
“This ‘Jean-Claude al-Masri’,” she said. “You know about him?”
“We have some of the same sources, so yes. Of course I do. A potential suspect. Marvelous. Whoop dee do.”
“Are the Spanish police going to bring him in?” she asked.
“Hell, no.”
“Why not?”
“The Spanish police are involved in the black fricking bird, not in the plot against the embassy.”
“What?”
“This is the twenty-first century. We handle these things directly.”
“Give me a break.”
“No, LaDuca, you give us one and don’t exceed your assignment here. These things take care of themselves when we’re lucky,” he said.
“What are you doing behind my back?” she asked. “I need some help with this, Mark, and you’re not coming across with it.”
“The world is imperfect, but we just discussed that.”
“What about the embassy?” she asked.
“What about it?”
“I’m told it’s in stand-down today,” she said. “Being searched roof to basement.”
“Who told you that?” he asked.
“Colonel Pendraza.”
“He’s kind of sweet on you, the old guy, isn’t he? Feeds you tidbits so he can hang out with a girl a third his age. You know, I think he’d like to get you in bed at least once. It would kind of cap his career, if you want to give it some sympathetic thought.”
“At least he acts professionally.”
“Okay,” he said. “Touché. And he’s only two and a half times your age. Listen, Madrid is in Spain, Spain is in Europe, Mercury is in retrograde, I’m in a good mood, and the embassy is in stand-down, yes, as are several dozen other locations around Madrid. We make sure the premises are clean and then we triple the security on anything or anyone coming in.”
“What about underneath the embassy?”
“What? The sewers?”
“Has anyone considered that the embassy could be accessed from underneath?”
“Pretty miniscule, the possibilities.”
“So was flying a pair of planes into the World Trade Center.”
McKinnon was silent. Then, still in Spanish, “But for the dual sake of both argument and personal irritation, I’ll give you a minute to convince me,” he said.
“This in an old city, one set of walls and ruins on top of another,” Alex said. “Same as Rome, London, Paris, Vienna. Ever see The Third Man? Ever see Ocean’s Thirteen? Ever read about Dien Bien Phu where the Viet Cong came up out of underground tunnels to blow the French out of Indochina? You had a tunnel under the Berlin Wall, and you got tunnels under the Tex-Mex borders in Arizona and Texas that you can drive small trucks through. And how about this? Did you read about the way the thieves got into the Museo Arqueológico to steal the bird the first time? There’s twelve centuries of stuff under our feet, Mark. They’re always finding Moorish walls and cellars in all those places, so it’s not outside the realm of possibility that someone could be burrowing.”
“Even if you burrowed, you’d need a real wallop of explosives,” he said.
“Yes. Like HMX with RDX. That’s exactly what’s out there somewhere.”
“Uh huh. Look, it’s under control, LaDuca. Stick to your job, which is the stupid figurine. Now, what else do you want from me?”
“You’re head of the Agency in Europe. I could use some help examining the area around the embassy. The underground pathways and all.”
“What? You want to go looking for souvenirs of the Inquisition?”
“I want to be thorough.”
“Thorough!” he laughed. “Have you seen our budget this year?”
“How much does a search cost compared with the cost of if we miss something?”
“You’re good. I should send you before Congress and you can ask them that. Someday, they’re going to ask me why I do things the way I do, and I’m going to reply by asking them why they use a jet bomber to kill a couple of camels. Dialogue. Socratic method. You like it?”
She seethed. “Can I get some help around the embassy? Please?” she pleaded. They were back at the bench.
“I’ll tell you,” he said. “You make a point. So maybe. Next week. How’s that. In the meantime, go to a hardware store, get a pick, a shovel, some gardening gloves, and a pair of bib overalls, and feel free to look around all you want, okay?”
“Why are you playing dumb, Mark?”
He ignored the question.
She scanned the street around them, the people, the traffic. “With all due respect, you’re being a jerk, Mark.”
“Yes, yes. What else is new? Request denied. I have to keep a lid on the budgets. And I’m not convinced enough that you know what you’re talking about.”
“No?”
“No,” he said.
“Why? Because I’m female?” she asked, heating up.
“No, because you see things that other people don’t see, which would be fine, except the things you see sometimes aren’t there. See that lamppost over there?” He waited for an answer.
She glanced. “I see it,” she said.
“Nice lamppost. Distinctive Madrid architecture. Quite charming. Except you probably look at it and see a potential gibbet.”
“Not to put too keen an edge on it, but in the Middle Ages, that’s exactly what they used the lampposts for. Hanging people.”
“See. That’s what I mean. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re overeducated?”
“Frequently,” she said. “It’s how I got hired.”
“There you go. But I didn’t hire you. I go for more utilitarian types, like Peter.”
“Four,” she said next.
“Four?”
“Four guns,” she said. “That’s how many people you have watching your back right now. You’ve got the guy at the souvenir stand, and the guy in the maintenance truck. Then there’s your driver who’s been circling the block. I also see,” she said, indicating, “the guy standing outside the leather shop. He’s supposed to look like a customer, but all he’s been doing is watching us, and he’s got American shoes. If you want to have a pavement team, do something about the shoes.”
“You are good,” he said. “I wish you also understood when you should just shut up and let our people handle things.”
“You’ve got your own back covered nicely, Mark. Unless the embassy blows from underneath, in which case people are going to ask how it could have happened, and I’m going to tell anyone who asks that it started with a theft of a ‘lamentation’ from the Museum of Old Stuff here in Madrid, and the CIA guy wouldn’t listen to me. So now can I please have some backup? Or assign your own people and let me go with them.”