Rogers stood over Myers’s body.
Davis sat down in a chair. “Did she tell you I was lying?”
Puller nodded. “And that you had a gun. We thought you’d gone in there to get it out and then ambush us.”
“No, I just really had to pee. But I didn’t know that Myers was armed. When I heard the shooting I pretty much knew what was happening, though.”
Knox looked at the dead man in the bed. “She said this was the real Ballard. Why did she kill him?”
“Because he’s not the real Ballard. Like I told you, he’s dead.”
“How are you so sure?” asked Puller. “Did someone tell you?”
“Josh brought me on to play the part of companion to Ballard. The real Ballard. He knew I-well, he knew I was used to skirting the rules just like him.”
“Wait a minute, you were babysitting the real Christopher Ballard?” said Knox.
Davis nodded. “Then he just died. Nobody shot him. I lied about that.”
She glanced at Rogers, who was staring directly at her. “I tend to lie as my first instinct on things.” She smiled and Rogers smiled back at her.
“This was about eighteen months ago. I went into his bedroom one morning to bring him his coffee. And there he was stone cold dead. I called Josh. And he called Jericho. And they came out and had a powwow over what to do.”
“And they decided on a replacement?” said Puller.
“Two, actually. A spare, just in case. You see, Ballard had Alzheimer’s. Before he died he didn’t know his own name. So it wasn’t like the replacements would need to carry on a conversation. And nobody came to visit Ballard. He had no family that I knew of.”
“But why the need to create the impression that he was still alive?” said Knox.
“I don’t know,” replied Davis. “I just know that the staff was well paid to keep their silence. If the truth did come out they all would lose their jobs, so they had no incentive to talk. And the guys they got as replacements weren’t right in the head, so they weren’t going to talk to anyone.”
“I threw who I thought was Ballard out the window,” said Rogers.
“At first they thought the guy had gone nuts and dove out the window,” said Davis.
“And they called in the spare?” said Knox.
“Yes.”
Knox sat down next to Davis. “Can you tie Jericho to any of this?”
“It would be my word against hers. And when they check into my background I’m not sure how credible I’ll be.”
She glanced at Rogers, who was staring at her.
“I’d believe you,” he said, garnering a smile from Davis.
Puller’s phone buzzed. When he answered it Robert Puller didn’t waste a second. He said, “Wherever you are, get the hell out. Now!”
Puller hustled everyone out of the room and into his vehicle. They sped off into the darkness.
“Puller,” said Knox nervously.
He held up a hand and then hit a key on his phone.
His brother answered on the first ring. “Are you out?”
“Yes. What’s going on?”
“Did you kidnap three people from Ballard’s estate?”
“How the hell did you know about that?”
“So it’s true.”
“I wouldn’t say abducted.”
“What would you say?”
“Rescued.”
“So they were being held against their will?”
“We think so.”
“You think so? And they’re all now safe?”
Puller eyed Knox before drawing a deep breath and saying into the phone, “One is. Two are dead.”
“Tell me everything,” barked his brother.
Puller did so and then waited for Robert’s response. He could hear his brother’s elevated breathing, which he did not take as a good sign.
“This is a shitstorm, John.”
“Is it?”
“They’re going to find Helen Myers and an old man, who may or may not be Chris Ballard, and who they are alleging you kidnapped, shot to death in a motel room rented by you. Does that pretty much cover it?”
“Pretty much.”
“And what would you call that?”
“Well, if you put it that way, shitstorm seems appropriate. But how did they find where we’d gone so fast?”
“Did you check anybody for an electronic tracker? Or they could have just traced the chip in one of their cell phones.”
Puller sighed. “Damn. Look, Bobby, give it to me straight, does our side want Jericho to go down? If not, we’re just spinning our wheels here.”
“Unless you can show she’s been selling secrets, no.”
“And the serial killings?”
“Three decades old and too many holes.”
“Great. Then we’ve got nothing on her. And it looks like I’m going to be arrested for kidnapping and murder.”
“I think I found the motive for the subterfuge with Ballard.”
“What?”
“As I told you before, Ballard controls the patents.”
“And if something happens to him?”
“I had a DoD lawyer check through discreet channels.”
“Gee, don’t keep me in suspense, Bobby. I’m a little tense right now.”
“Ballard set up a charitable foundation. Every last penny and asset goes to it when he dies.”
“So a charity gets patents that are being used in DoD work? How exactly does that play out with the project they’re doing at Atalanta Group?”
“Atalanta Group would have kept working on them. The underlying licensing contract they have guarantees that.”
“Then I’m not getting the motive.”
“The contracts with the government only cover military applications. Atalanta Group has no control over or rights to the commercial applications. Those revert to the beneficiary under the will, in this case the foundation. Ballard dies, they’re going to come in and take over that part of it hook, line, and sinker.”
Puller said, “And Jericho’s dealings with Charpentier get cratered if that happens? Because what she’s selling him are the commercial applications. And they might find out what she’s been doing?”
“Exactly. So they had to make it seem that Ballard was still alive.”
“But we can’t get to Jericho with what we have.”
“Without Quentin and Myers I don’t see how we nail her. And, John, you really need to focus. They’re going to come after you for what happened tonight. I don’t mean Jericho. I mean the law.” He paused. “You could go to prison for this.”
“I don’t care about that,” shouted Puller. “But this means we’re not going to find out what happened to Mom.”
“We are going to find out what happened to Mom.”
“How? We’ve got nothing.”
“No, we have something. Something she wants.”
“What?”
“Rogers,” said his brother.
Puller shot a glance at Rogers, who just stared back at him blankly.
Into the phone Puller said, “We can’t do that. Do you know what this guy has-”
His brother interrupted. “John, will you trust me? I know what I’m doing. Just trust me.”
Puller sat there holding the phone and feeling more lost than he ever had in his life.
“Okay, Bobby, okay.”
70
ROBERT PULLER WAS in his dress blues. Not out of respect for the person opposite him. He had no respect for her. The dress uniform was about him. Claire Jericho eyed him across her desk. She said, “I think the lecture at the Pentagon was the last time we saw each other. Quite a while.”
“I’ve been busy, so have you.”
“And of course you had your little prison sojourn at Leavenworth.”
“It was a good time to think and read. No interruptions.”
“Your career is back on its accelerated path, I’m told.”
“And you’re still doing what you’ve always done.”
“You’re far more subtle than your father.”
“My brother told me you and our father had met. Didn’t quite see eye to eye?”
“I was trying to spare your brother’s feelings. It was actually more aptly a tank battle.”