“Just questions, sir,” Payne said.
Knox looked at him. “Go ahead.”
“Was that Glock a Bureau-issued weapon?”
“Ballistics is checking it out,” Haviland said. “They’re running the slugs against the database of every handgun issued at the Academy.”
“Stanfield was with HRT, right?” An affirmative nod from Knox told Payne to continue. “So I’m wondering how a trained, seasoned agent like that would allow anyone he didn’t know to get so close to him.”
“Like I said, he could’ve been dressed as campus police, a fellow agent—”
“I don’t buy it,” Payne said. “I say he knew the guy. Maybe he’s one of ours.”
“I agree,” Waller said. “I think it needs to be looked into.”
Knox was nodding. “Excellent. That’s the way you should be thinking, Agent Payne. Agent Haviland, I’d like you to follow up on that. Get me that report from ballistics ASAP.” Knox pulled a computer-generated drawing from his desk and handed color copies to each of the people in the room. “Meantime, we’re attacking this on another front. Melissa’s given our ID tech a description, and he’s produced this computer-generated likeness. It’s being circulated to all the regional SACs, ADICs, and ASACs, including the ones Stanfield served under when he was stationed in Kansas City. So far, none of them have identified this suspect as an agent under their direction, past or present. It’s possible he could’ve altered his appearance, so we have to realize this may not be of any use to us.” Knox looked at the three agents. “Anything else?”
With no further questions, Knox rose. “Okay then. Agent Payne, would you give us a moment?”
Payne nodded and turned to Waller. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
Knox waited for the door to close, then looked at Waller and Haviland. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s not only soaked everything up we’ve given him, but his confidence is coming around, too,” Haviland said. “He feels real comfortable in the role.”
“Excellent. Then you don’t foresee any problems?”
Waller threw a sideways glance at Haviland. “Not exactly a problem, sir, but maybe a distraction.”
Knox folded his arms across his chest. “Explain.”
“He received an e-mail from his wife this afternoon. It seems to have shaken him up a bit.”
“E-mail?” Knox’s forehead was deeply creased, his eyebrows arched downward. “Where in the hell would he get access to a PC? The Bureau’s systems aren’t connected—”
“I’m afraid that’s my fault, sir. I brought him my laptop. I didn’t see it as being a problem, and SAC Lindsey said—”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about what Lindsey said. This investigation is being run through my office, do you understand, Agent Waller?”
Waller sighed. “Understood, sir. It’s just that Harper felt like a connection with the outside might help him regain his memory faster. I thought that was our goal.”
“Agent Waller, this is a highly sensitive investigation. More than just the Scarponi case is at stake. The president has taken substantial heat over his release, and he’s been on my ass to make sure we put him away for good. What’s never been made public is that there were some very delicate negotiations with the other countries when Scarponi was taken into custody. Even though we had jurisdiction over the Foster murder, the other countries all claimed they had first crack at him. In order to avoid a big pissing contest, which would’ve jeopardized our case against Scarponi, the president moved quickly. He had to virtually guarantee them that Scarponi would pay for what he’d done.”
Knox sat down heavily. “You can imagine what hit the fan when Judge Noonan released him on bail. If it gets out that Scarponi’s on the loose and that we don’t even know where he is, it would almost certainly screw up the arms pact negotiations the president has worked so hard to get them to agree to. The timing couldn’t be worse.”
“But it could backfire,” Waller said. “If they find out the president knew he’d escaped and didn’t alert them, wouldn’t that be worse?”
Knox broke a crooked smile. “That’s the point, Agent Waller. The president can’t tell them what he doesn’t know. If he doesn’t know about it in the first place, he can’t be accused of lying to them.”
“You’re insulating him.”
“Yes.”
“Which means you take the heat if we don’t find him.”
Knox shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “We will find him. And Agent Payne’s testimony will put him away. On the other hand, his failure to testify will have the opposite effect. It all depends on what actions we take or don’t take in the next few weeks. That’s an enormous burden on all of us, but I’ve chosen to put a lot of the heat on you two because I thought you could handle it. Now I see you make a rookie mistake with this e-mail—”
“Sir,” Waller said, sitting ramrod straight, “I can assure you that it won’t happen again.”
“You better believe it won’t or I’ll pull you off the case and transfer you to the resident agency in Fairbanks, Alaska.” Knox stood up and began to pace in front of the darkened window. “I found out about his wife just before we brought Payne in. When our Sacramento field office called and told me they had a lead on him in the Placerville area, we put a few agents on him. But we were too late. Turns out he’d left on some kind of ski vacation in Colorado. They did a search of the airlines’ databases for flights leaving Colorado and immediately went there to intercept him.”
“Why didn’t we just tell him about his wife?” Haviland asked.
“I don’t owe you an explanation.” Knox stared the man down, then shook his head. According to protocol, he did not, of course, need to say anymore. However, he knew it would be best if he could provide them with a reasonable rationalization, if nothing else, in case they had to give Payne some kind of justification for their actions to maintain his trust. “If we bring his wife into this, we’d be placing her in harm’s way. We’d have to worry about Scarponi getting to her and using her to get to him. Not to mention the fact that she’d probably be a huge distraction for him. We need Payne totally focused on this trial.”
“But if the Bureau found Payne and his wife, shouldn’t we have assumed that Scarponi would, too?”
Knox sighed. “We made a tactical error.”
There was an uneasy silence, finally broken by Haviland. “So what’s the plan? Do we just tell him—”
“Nothing. Tell him nothing. This is not his decision, Agent Haviland. I want to be very clear on this. He is not to communicate with his wife. At all costs, I want that line of communication severed.”
“And if he insists?”
“Then handle the situation. You understand the forces at play.”
“He’s got my laptop,” Waller said. “He may’ve already put out a response to her message.”
“Where’s the computer?”
“In his room, at the Academy.”
“Room number?”
“Two thirty-two West.”
Knox picked up his phone and dialed the Academy. Waller and Haviland listened while their boss directed a nameless acquaintance to enter the room and disable the Ethernet port. “Make it seem like it’s a software glitch or something. I don’t want him to think it was deliberate.” Knox hung up and looked at Waller. “No more favors for him. You know what’s at stake. We need him focused. On Scarponi, not his wife.”
37
When the door slammed, Lauren bolted upright in her bed. The room was dark. She was dressed in her clothes — that much she could tell. But where was she?
She was so disoriented. She rubbed at her eyes, but that just made them burn more. She swung her legs off the bed and realized her shoes were still on her feet. Although she had been sleeping, she was still exhausted.