"Why would I wonder? You made lots of blunders and misjudgments. You've made another"
"Have I?"
"Don't kid yourself. Look, a few months ago, I might have seen Jason Barnes's file. Maybe I even saw his father's file. Thousands of files roll across my desk. They certainly never stuck in my mind."
"You know, Jennie, I wish I could believe you. But you lied about your background, you lied throughout the case, and you're still lying. It's too late for the truth to set you free, but it can keep fifty thousand volts from ruining your hairdo."
She stared at me a moment. "I had a reason for that."
"For what?"
"Misleading you about my background."
Apparently this topic was sensitive for her. "Tell me about it."
"It's simple. Every time I tell people, I get this look, and they say, 'Oh, you poor little thing.' I find pity disgusting."
"And I thought you were just trying to hide a bad memory."
"You're a bad memory. You're here."
She was beginning to annoy me, and I decided to annoy her back. "I'm curious, Jennie. Did you stand outside and watch your parents roast? Did you peek inside the window and watch their skin bubble and fry?"
"That's sick. Stop it."
"Did you listen to their screams and howls? Did you sniff the air and relish the odor of their burning flesh? Tell me, Jennie. How did it smell?"
A flash of anger showed in Jennie's eyes. She started to speak, and I said, "Share it with me, Jennie. I want to hear. How did it feel to murder your own parents? This is a new one for me-I am sincerely curious."
But she knew where I was going with this, and she smiled and said, "The shock and awe's not working, Sean." She added, in a tone that was surprisingly nonchalant, "Read the police report. It was an accident. My father smoked. We always warned him it would be bad for his health."
As she said, this wasn't working so I changed the topic and informed her, "They'll get you on conspiracy, at a minimum."
"Will they? Where's the proof I called Clyde? Where's the proof I knew Clyde?"
"As your lawyer will eventually advise you, Jennie, in court not everything has to be proved. All cases have elements of circumstantial construction."
"Yes, and all winning cases are built on evidence and facts. Not conjecture," she pointed out.
"Good point. In fact, I thought it might be enlightening for you to learn how much we do know."
As I expected she might, Jennie liked this suggestion. "It would be very interesting to hear what you think you know. Please proceed."
After a moment I said, "Well, you'll recall that I spent a lot of time with MaryLou, and later, a little time with Clyde."
"Don't hold that against me. You should recall that you volunteered for that."
"No, you volunteered me. You told Clyde to pick me."
"Conjecture again."
I ignored her and said, "You should know that I informed MaryLou that the Feds knew about Clyde, and that in short order they would know about her."
Jennie looked a little annoyed by this news. "Didn't we tell you not to do that? Didn't we warn you it was dangerous?"
"Very emphatically." I added, "Jennie, I have to tell you, MaryLou did not take this news well. She became very… agitated. An interesting verb, don't you think?"
Jennie gave no indication that the word was interesting.
"She never mentioned your name," I admitted, "but she talked at some length about the scheme, starting with you going to Fort Hood and tracking down Clyde." This wasn't the complete truth, but true enough.
"How? How did I find Clyde and meet with him?"
"I don't know how."
"Then you're in a difficult position. You can't prove I met Clyde. Nor will you ever, because I never did."
After a moment, I said, "But it's not hard to guess. He was the third suspect you looked into, and the moment you laid your profiler's eyes on him, you knew. So you shook him up good and then offered him salvation. Kill for you… and he walks, scot-free, with a boatload of money. Otherwise, he and his pals are going into the slammer until their grandkids' teeth rot."
"Is that how it'll be presented in court, Sean? A guess."
I said, "At first, MaryLou thought it was a bad deal and a worse idea. Right? Until Clyde assured her that their new friend would do more than provide information… their new friend would actually head up the effort to stop them. Wow-what a deal. What could go wrong?"
Jennie said, "Complete nonsense. I always agreed they might have an inside source. But it wasn't me."
"But let's assume for a moment it was you."
"This is silly."
No, this was surreal. In every way she seemed to be the same Jennie I knew, yet she wasn't in any sense the same Jennie. The Jennie I knew was brave, noble, and resourceful. This Jennie was a lying, conniving, murderous bitch. I said, "For this to work, first you had to eliminate the man who took your job. Clyde was an expert marksman in the Army, a lifelong gun nut, and poor John Fisk had not a clue he was being hunted. Boom, boom-Fisk was maggot meat, and Jennifer Margold has his desk and his mantle."
Her face remained perfectly composed, as though we were talking about some other Jennie. "Ridiculous."
"Should I go on?"
"You're very clever, Sean. This is almost comically entertaining. By all means."
"Only one problem-how to ensure these killings ended up on your desk. There are like… what?… four, five SACs in the D.C. Metro Field Office?"
"Four."
"Thank you. The problem is, if it's plain and simple murder, the SAC with homicide on his slate gets the crack at it. So about a month before this thing kicks into gear, you slap up a Web site and put a bounty on the President. You tip the Al Jazeera network to be sure it's advertised, and we learn about it. As the honcho for national security in D.C. you were in the loop when the bounty was detected. Right?"
"I was informed, yes."
"Why did you deny that when I asked?"
"It was compartmentalized knowledge, Sean. The government has this crazy idea that sharing state secrets with strange men I've just met is taboo. Silly, isn't it?"
"Oh, please. The cat was already out of the bag. Phyllis informed the whole group."
"And did that give me authorization to discuss it with you?"
Obviously she had an answer for everything. I said, "Anyway, suddenly it looks like assassinations with national security overtones, and it's yours."
She laughed. "You're concocting a plot so convoluted it will sound outrageous to any jury."
"You're right. It's completely outrageous. Do you mind if I jump ahead to the endgame?"
She rolled her eyes. "Why not?"
"Let's begin with a little setting. I'm in the townhouse with the bad guys, MaryLou's scared that she might get caught, and Clyde's bitching about how his source screwed him. So now I know they've got an inside source and I ask myself, Hey, don't these idiots know I've got a transmitter in my intestines? I'm a cop magnet. Haven't they been warned?"
"Go on."
"Well, I've got a gag over my mouth so I can't ask."
"And if you did ask, they would’ve killed you and run."
"There was that, too."
"Did you ever think they didn't know because I wasn't their source? Let me remind you, I knew about the transmitter."
"And your lawyer should make exactly that argument to the jury I would." I added, "But you knew they'd been compromised. And you knew that if any of those three were captured alive… Well, that's always the problem with a conspiracy. Someone always turns stoolie."
"Is that a fact?"
"Cut the crap, Jennie. It's beneath you."
"Go on."
"Ergo it was time to improvise. It's not complicated. The secret had to go to the grave."
"And how would I arrange that?"
"You tell me."
She was shaking her head. "You know what I think, Sean?"