“The logbook will not be entered into evidence,” said Fisk. “Here’s what you do. You put a little footnote in the filing that says, quote, ‘All exhibit weights expressed to published limits of machine accuracy.’ That’s a scientific term that you can look up in any manual of bench chemistry. If it ever comes up—and it won’t—but if it does . . . then I’ll have to get on the stand and explain that I’ve taken all these courses in evidence handling and scientific measurement and blah blah blah, and that scales have inherent levels of inaccuracy, that they have to warm up, calibration, blah blah blah, and that’s why we round the number to one thirty-nine point two five, that this number is the scientifically correct number despite the fact that the machine has a higher level of recordable and observable resolution.”
The line was silent.
“Kevin. A hundred and thirty-nine point two five grams.”
Leary said, “Okay.”
“I should not have to be telling you how to do this. Okay? This is stuff you’re supposed to know.”
Leary said, “Okay. I’ll get back to you.”
Fisk said, “No rush,” and hung up.
He darkened the screen and sat there a while, looking at his phone.
CHAPTER 39
Secret Service agent Dukes said, “Fisk, I only have a minute.”
“It’s the Mexican president’s itinerary. There’s one blocked-out period of time that isn’t accounted for.”
“Okay.”
“That doesn’t concern you?” asked Fisk.
“It might if I didn’t know what it was.”
“So you do know what it is.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Fisk waited a breath. “So what is it?”
“Some things I’m not allowed to share, Fisk. Even with a friend. That’s my job.”
“Not even if it might affect your job. That is, protecting visiting heads of state.”
“If I knew there was an immediate need to know, maybe. Why not ask your girlfriend?”
Fisk winced. “That’s funny.”
“It’s smart. I’d help her out if I could, too. And if I wasn’t otherwise married.”
Fisk scowled. He was tired of this. “What time is the restaurant walk-through?”
CHAPTER 40
The Waldorf was fully occupied,” said President Vargas, watching his bags being unpacked on the seventh floor of the Sheraton. “I guess I’ll make do.”
He seemed to regret the attempt at humor almost as soon as he uttered it.
“I didn’t know the man well,” he said. “But I know he was your personal hire.”
Garza nodded, wanting to move past this. “It is a terrible loss. Do you understand my concerns now?”
“I have understood them from the beginning,” said the president. “But I cannot see any way to curtail my activities here.”
“The festival for Independence Day,” said Garza. “That has to be left off the schedule.”
Vargas stopped, sitting down on his bed. “This visit is where we set the tone for my entire administration. I understand that the treaty has angered the cartels. That is its purpose, in large part.”
Garza said, tamping down her impatience, “This is not a cartel. This is a lone assassin. I am sure of it.”
Vargas clapped his hands once. “Who is dead set on making an example of me? If you know he is here, and know his intent, is it not that much easier to forestall him?”
“Not this man. He is killing everyone who has aided him in coming here. I believe there is no way to deter him from his goal.”
Vargas said, “I have not known you well for many years now. But your reputation is such that I would think you could not back down from such a challenge.”
Garza bristled at this second reference to her “reputation” in a matter of hours. “It is quite a different matter when the life of the Mexican president is at stake.”
“Granted,” he said. “Which do you want more? To save me? Or to catch this Chuparosa?”
“I want both. They go hand in hand.”
“And trust me, I have no desire to be a . . . a piece of bait. But allow me do my job, and I will allow you to do yours. Tomorrow will be a great day, signing the treaty on the anniversary of our country’s independence.” He checked his wristwatch. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am due at the UN for a meeting with the Costa Rican ambassador and I am already running late.”
CHAPTER 41
Elian Martinez was looking in the mirror, straightening his black bow tie, when he heard the door buzz.
“You expecting anyone?” he called to his wife, Kelli.
“No,” she called back.
“Guess I better get it then,” he said.
There’d been some push-in robberies in the neighborhood lately, the same guy in every case, forcing his way into women’s apartments, stealing their stuff, beating them up. Elian figured it was always better to have a male voice answer the buzzer.
He came out of the bathroom, pulling on his coat. He was going to be late for work if he didn’t get lucky with the traffic.
He pushed the button on the intercom. “Yes?”
A voice in Spanish came back, “Señor Martinez, it’s Sergeant Benividez with the Policía Federal. We’re here for the credentials inspection.”
“The what?”
“I’m sure the Secret Service informed you. We’re part of President Vargas’s advance team. We’re validating the credentials of everyone who’ll be—”
“Ah, sí, momento, momento!” He pressed the button releasing the lock down in the vestibule. He could hear the buzz of the lock mechanism right through the wall.
“What is it?” Kelli said. She spoke no Spanish. Elian was getting his Ph.D. at NYU, moonlighting as a waiter. He and Kelli had met the first day of grad school and they were both finishing up their dissertations in Econ. He could practically taste the money he’d be making on Wall Street come this time next year. But in the meantime, they were currently clipping coupons and pulling nickels out of the couch cushions, just trying to get by.
Elian said to her, “I told you about President Vargas, right?”
Kelli said, “Only about twenty times.”
“Hey, give me a break. I think it’s cool, I might be personally serving the president of Mexico.”
“Why don’t you slip him your résumé inside his oysters?”
“Ha ha. Though actually not a bad idea.”
There was a knock on the door.
Elian opened the door and let two men into the room. They were both wearing dark suits, sunglasses. A big guy and a medium-sized guy. The big guy seemed a little out of shape to be presidential security, but this was Mexico, maybe their standards were different than the United States.
“Come in, come in,” Elian said, ushering them in. “Sorry about this . . . the mess.”
The smaller man entered first, looking around. He acted very official. “We’ll make this nice and quick,” he said. “Sorry for the inconvenience. We just need to see your credential documents yet again, to log you into the database. This won’t take but a few minutes.”
Elian frowned. “The Secret Service said they were taking care of everything. Is there some reason why—”
“We have to double-check every detail,” the man said, smiling broadly. “It is a redundancy, I agree. But that is our job. Be assured, you will see us at least one more time before the event. You understand how it is.”
Elian nodded as though he did. “Sure, sure, no problem.” Elian just wanted to get it over with so he could get to work. He went back into the bedroom, pulled out the manila envelope they’d given him the other day, and carried it back into the main room. He emptied the contents onto the hall table. “Is this what you’re looking for?”