As he sat there, nervously twisting the remnants of a polystyrene disposable cup between his nicotine-stained fingers, he kept reaching up and tapping his knuckles against his forehead as if trying to remember something. As the official with immediate responsibility for Fort Knox, she guessed he was feeling the heat more than the others.
“Fort Knox has been robbed, ladies and gentleman,” Young continued, still chewing away. “Not the local five-and-dime. Fort Knox. One of this nation’s most heavily guarded facilities. And we didn’t even know about it!” He slammed his fist down on the table. “Now Mr. Piper’s colleagues are telling the president that it’s only a matter of time before someone snatches one of our nukes. Ah have to say, for once Ah find it hard to disagree.” He stood up straight now, a stocky five foot nine with his shoes on. “Hell, after this, Ah wouldn’t be surprised if the president walks into the Oval Office and finds the goddamned Resolute Desk gone.”
Green looked down and shuffled his papers so as to avoid Young’s accusing stare.
“Now Ah’ve convinced the president that this is a Treasury matter. He’s agreed to leave it to me to resolve internally with FBI help, given that they were the ones who popped the lid on this in the first place. And he’s told the military and the CIA to back off. For now. But from what Ah’ve seen so far, everyone’s more concerned with covering their own asses than finding out what happened and we’re all running out of time. What Ah need now are some answers and Ah need them fast. Jack, what have your people got?”
Green nodded at Corbett, who flashed Jennifer an encouraging look. She stood up in front of the large white screen and cleared her throat.
“Gentlemen. As you know, nine days ago a rare 1933 Double Eagle was discovered in the stomach of an Italian priest in Paris.” The photos of Ranieri that Corbett had shown her a few days before flashed up on the screen behind him, together with close-ups of both sides of the coin.
“Subsequent forensic tests have shown that the coin is original and in all likelihood is one of five coins stolen from Fort Knox where they had been secretly kept in storage for the last ten or so years.”
Piper, who had been studying her performance with a smile on his face, gave a dismissive wave, picked up one of the many files spread out in front of him and shook it.
“We know all this, Browne, it’s right here in the file. Tell us something new.”
Jennifer glanced at Corbett, who winked. She knew him well enough by now to know that he was clearly thinking the same thing as her. John Piper. Major League asshole.
“Our investigation has pinpointed the likely time of the theft as between three and four A.M. on Sunday the Fourth of July,” she continued, staring defiantly at Piper as she spoke, almost willing him to take her on.
“What, just three weeks ago?” Piper shot back. “How can you be so sure?”
Corbett took over.
“An analysis of the Depository’s IT systems has shown a power surge at zero three hundred hours on that date. The power levels then remained erratic until zero four hundred hours when they returned to normal.”
The power systems check had been Corbett’s idea and after consulting the Bureau’s IT people, they had been in no doubt what the likely implications of their findings were.
“The tech guys are still looking into it, so at the moment it’s still just a theory, but according to them the power surge seems to suggest that some sort of computer virus was loaded directly into the Depository’s mainframe. It was probably programmed to wipe itself, but we’ve found some traces of code that suggest that it was designed to temporarily disable the security systems in the vault, without this being visible to the guards on the outside.”
“So my guys are in the clear then?” said Brady with audible relief. “There was no way they could have known what was going on inside, right?”
Piper had a thin smile on his face, as he turned to face Corbett.
“A theory? One week on and that’s all you’ve got, a theory? C’mon, sport, tell me you got more than that.”
“John, let’s just hear what they’ve got to say,” said Young, cautiously.
“I know, Scott. I’m just curious, that’s all. You know, like what about the cameras? Why didn’t they pick something up?” Piper asked, the same aggressive tone in his voice.
“Because there are no cameras in the vault itself, sir, just around the outside perimeter,” replied Jennifer calmly. “I believe that information is also in the file.” Piper flushed bright red. A smile flickered around the corner of Corbett’s mouth.
“The vault’s primary protection is to deny physical access, although inside it has been equipped with a combination of infrared beams, pressure pads, movement and heat sensors, and electronic contacts,” she continued, addressing her comments almost exclusively to Young and Green now, as if Piper wasn’t there. It was a dangerous game, she knew, but then she had never been very good at playing the safe, diplomatic option. If Piper was as determined to score points off her as he seemed to be, she was not going to make it any easier for him.
“None of these systems were directly tampered with and yet the coins are gone. Our view is that someone gained access to the vault, had some sort of virus temporarily disable the electronic systems and then stole the coins before the systems came back online.”
“But how did they actually get in and out?” Young had edged forward in his seat. “Ah heard the Treasury boys went over every inch of that facility and didn’t find so much as a chip in the concrete.”
Brady nodded in agreement.
“That’s right. No one could have got in or out that vault without someone or something picking them up.”
“Well… if no one could have got in, then perhaps something could have,” Corbett suggested carefully.
“What are you saying, that one of my guys let something in? That’s ridiculous,” snorted Brady. “These are highly trained men. All of them security cleared and closely monitored. There’s no way any of them would knowingly let anything in that shouldn’t be there.”
Jennifer approached the screen again and a photograph flashed up onto it. It showed a confident, smiling man, about forty years old, appealingly large brown eyes set into a strong, angular face. When she’d first seen this photo, she’d found it hard to believe that this was the same man she’d seen helplessly pinned out on Finch’s steel table like a butterfly on a card. Even now, she turned away, finding his accusing stare hard to stomach.
“This is Tony Short, one of the guards down at Fort Knox. Short was working the night of the fourth and had access to the security systems and the vault. We believe he was murdered seven days ago. Were he alive, then no doubt he could explain the sudden appearance of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in his bank account three weeks ago, one day after we think the robbery took place.”
Jennifer had run a standard bank account search using Short’s Social Security number and discovered the account in California. It had only been opened the day before the deposit was made. Short’s wife certainly hadn’t known anything about it when asked. For Jennifer, this had been the final, damning link in the chain of evidence.
“This is bullshit!” Brady exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Why wasn’t I told any of this? I’m being set up.” Young grabbed his arm, his short fat fingers levering Brady back down into his seat.
“Sit down, Chris. No one’s blaming anyone. We just want to know what happened.” He nodded at Jennifer to continue as Brady muttered angrily.
“We also found this round the back of Short’s house.” A photograph of the metal container she had recovered from the bonfire flashed up on the screen and Young twisted his head onto one side as he tried to make out what it was. The image gave way to a close-up of the scarred and faded Treasury seal on its side.