Still no news about the laptop or the duffel bag that the Rainey boy had seen the man and woman carrying when they left the alley and climbed into the taxicab.
And, honestly, Margaret had no idea where else to look for Mollie.
A different perspective might be helpful, a fresh set of eyes, so with Hawkins and Bowers out of the picture for the moment, she phoned the next most qualified agent on the team.
“Lien-hua here.”
“This is Executive Assistant Director Wellington. I’d like you to meet me at the Lincoln Towers Hotel. We’re going to do a walk-around. Together.”
50
On the drive to DC, I’d managed to move up the meeting with FBI Director Rodale one hour, to 11:00. “Actually,” his secretary had informed me, “the director is anxious to see you.”
“Great.”
Since Tessa and I had some time, she’d suggested coffee, and although we’d already had some this morning, she persuaded me. While we were at the coffeehouse I called Doehring, and he told me that nothing had come of his search into Mollie Fischer’s background and so, once again, I moved forward with the working hypothesis that she indeed was a victim in this crime spree, not an offender.
By the time we’d left the coffeehouse, battled traffic, driven to FBI headquarters, parked, cleared security, and obtained Tessa’s visitor’s pass, it was almost 11:00.
“You’ll be good waiting for me?”
She nodded and took a seat in the reception area just outside Rodale’s office.
“I’ll see you as soon as I’m done.” I gave her the guest password for HQ’s Wi-Fi. She plugged in her earbuds, opened up her laptop to read more about primate cognition, and I knocked on Rodale’s door.
“Come in.”
I entered and found him standing beside his corner window overlooking downtown DC.
Congressman Fischer stood beside him.
Maybe Mollie’s body was found.
I waited for one of them to tell me the news, whatever it might be.
“Pat,” Rodale said. “I believe you’ve met Congressman Fischer?”
I nodded to him. “Congressman.”
“I heard you almost caught Mollie’s abductors yesterday,” he said. “I need to thank you for going after them like that. Especially after our… well, my… the words I had with you in my office.”
Today he sounded a lot more shattered by what had happened, a lot more like a man whose daughter was missing. “I know you were upset.”
“They tell me you were shot yesterday?”
“Yes, but I’m all right.”
I waited; no explanations came.
Rodale gestured toward a chair. “Please, Pat, have a seat.”
Neither of the two men moved toward a chair or elaborated on why the congressman was here, and a tense kind of awkwardness sifted through the room. “I’ve been sitting all morning,” I said. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stretch my legs too.”
A nod. “Sure. Yes.”
“Has there been a break in the case?” I asked at last.
Rodale shook his head.
“No,” Fischer said soberly.
Then Rodale walked to his bookcase and let out a tired-sounding sigh. He was six months from retirement but looked ready to bail on his job this afternoon. “I’m in a quandary here, Pat. I want to commend you on your valor yesterday, on your insights into this case, but I also feel the professional obligation to reprimand you for the reckless nature of your actions.”
I wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to that. “That’s understandable.”
“No more spur-of-the moment press conferences.”
“Agreed.”
“All right.” I could tell this was just the tip of the iceberg. “Moving on. There’s a sensitive aspect of this case that I need to tell you about, and I need you to keep it in the strictest confidence.”
I let my eyes pass from him to the congressman, then back to Rodale. “What aspect?”
Congressman Fischer spoke up. “The Gunderson facility. I believe I might know the reason the young woman was killed there.”
“And that is?”
“You remember Project Rukh?” Rodale said. “In San Diego?” “Of course.”
Last February, Lien-hua, Ralph, and I had uncovered a biotech conspiracy that involved marine biology research and recent advances in neuroscience to create a top-secret weapon for the Pentagon. The device could be used to damage, in an untraceable manner, specific parts of a person’s frontal cortex to cause permanent brain damage or a stroke.
The case would always stick in my mind not just for professional reasons but for personal ones as welclass="underline" while in San Diego a young man had tried to sexually assault Tessa, and one of the killers we were tracking had attacked and drowned Lien-hua; I’d barely been able to revive her.
“I thought the Pentagon pulled the plug on all that?” I said, referring to Project Rukh.
“They did,” Congressman Fischer responded. “But a private firm managed to acquire the neuroscientific research that survived. For an unrelated project.”
Unrelated.
Yeah, right.
“The Gunderson Foundation,” I said.
Both men confirmed my words by their silence.
“So you’re involved with the foundation somehow, is that it?” I said to the congressman. “Is there some legislation before the House that relates to-”
“I’ve contributed financially to the foundation in the past. Yes,” he replied. “But that’s something I would rather the public not be apprised of at this time.”
“Thank you.”
He looked confused. “For what?”
“For narrowing things down. I can guarantee that if you don’t want the information released, there’s somebody out there who does. And that person may very well be involved in your daughter’s abduction. So, the obvious question: who would want the facts about your donations made public?”
“Every Republican in Congress.”
Although that seemed like a gross overstatement, if the primate research were in some way ethically controversial, he might just be right. Rodale glanced at Congressman Fischer, who nodded. I did not find it reassuring that the Bureau’s director was taking cues from a congressman.
Rodale said, “I know that Margaret pulled you off this case so you could get some rest, but I’d like you to keep pursuing whatever leads you can. I’ll speak with her. Arrange it. If you’re up to it.”
“I’m up to it.”
I turned to Fischer. “Send me a list detailing all of your contributions to the foundation. Forward all emails sent or received. Everything. And I want your phone records.”
He hesitated.
“Don’t fool yourself, Congressman. Someone will find out this information. The task force should see it before the press does.”
“You can trust him,” Rodale said to Fischer.
He looked uncomfortable with the idea but finally agreed.
Then I turned to Director Rodale. “A few minutes ago you asked me to keep this all in the strictest confidence. How can I work with the task force if I’m not able to share this information with them?”
“For now, only command level staff hears about the congressman’s contributions to the center. I don’t want anything leaking to the press and slowing down the investigation.”
Admittedly, if this information was as sensitive as I was being led to believe, his concern made sense, but something didn’t feel right. I still wasn’t sure why these two men had chosen to share this information with me, but I figured I could bring that up with Rodale after the congressman left and we were alone. I nodded and he said he’d send me the files.
I gave Fischer my email address, he excused himself, but as he was getting ready to leave I asked, “Congressman, who told you about the custody case?”
“Custody case?”
“Yesterday. You mentioned the custody case involving my stepdaughter.”
This time, unlike yesterday, he was forthcoming: “My brother.”
Shock.