‘Will three million be enough?’ demanded the woman.
‘It’s enough to negotiate with.’
‘What else can we do?’ asked McBride.
‘Let me talk a few things through with you,’ said Norris.
McBride appeared to become aware of the hand tremor and put the glass down on his desk. ‘Anything. What?’
For the first time Norris indicated the other FBI officer. ‘The day your daughter vanished you told Paul that they – the people who’ve got her – had done it to get at you. I don’t understand that, sir.’
McBride looked blankly at the strangely still man, wishing his hands weren’t shaking so obviously, trying to reassure himself Norris would imagine it was solely concern for Mary. To gain even more time he turned to Harding. ‘I don’t remember saying that.’
‘You did, sir,’ insisted the resident officer.
‘I was very upset. If I said it I probably meant directed at me as the official representative of the United States of America, not that it was personal.’
‘Have there been threats against the embassy? Any reason for thinking that?’ persisted Norris.
‘Not directly. But there’s a great resurgence of fascism – neo-Nazism – throughout Europe. Quite a lot of anti-American feeling.’ He didn’t want to go on down this road: it wasn’t sounding convincing enough.
‘Let’s look at it from a personal viewpoint. What about your business before your appointment?’
McBride felt the first twitch of uncertainty, deep in his stomach: he wanted even less to go in this direction. ‘I founded and headed a legitimate armaments corporation that always conducted business at official government levels.’ He pushed what he hoped would sound like outrage into his voice. ‘I’m not aware of offending anyone, which is what I guess you’re implying.’ It was too long ago. If the motherfucker had wanted to hurt him he’d have done it years ago.
‘I wasn’t implying anything specific,’ said Norris easily. ‘Just trying to cover all the bases. Arms dealing can have its uncertain aspects, can’t it?’
The opening for further outrage. ‘I was not operating in dark alleys with people whose names I didn’t know. Mine was the corporation governments came to.’ With a few exceptions. One in particular: the ghost always there to climb out of the closet. But he hadn’t known: genuinely, honestly, hadn’t known. They had to understand that, if it ever leaked.
Luigi della Sialvo had been a government procurer. Credentials a mile high. Sold a lot of stuff to Italy, every deal one hundred per cent kosher, every End User certificate stamped, sealed and countersigned. Except for that one occasion. Luigi fucking Sialvo working on the side, building up his own special pension with a bullshit line about having known the smiling Mr Lee for years, personally vouching for him, an introduction between trusted friends. And there had been an End User guarantee. Singapore, a toe-hold in the Asian market, a new business opportunity. Thanks, Luigi, you’re a buddy: sure the commission can go into the Zurich bank. Not unusual. Accepted practice. Good deal too. Twenty million to open, all up front, thirty-five to follow, same payment arrangements. And it did arrive, timed to the second. And a Singapore address, a bona fide company, to go with the End User requirement.
But the Sidewinders and the Cruise and the antipersonnel stuff hadn’t ended up in Singapore. Just passed through, the arms dealers’ law of perpetual motion. New company in Korea, shuffle-shuffle to Indonesia where the transport planes were waiting for the direct flight to Baghdad, all greased and ready for the start of the Gulf War.
He hadn’t given in to the blackmail when it came. Not James Kilbright McBride’s style. Faced down the no longer smiling Mr Lee when he’d set it all out, embarrassment after embarrassment, to force the order so urgent there wasn’t time to ship through all the cut-outs. If I drop you’ll drop, you bastard: you’ll be the pariah in the arms business, never operate again, so go fuck yourself.
There was much further to drop now though, if it ever came out. And it wouldn’t be a Chinese entrepreneur falling with him. US President funded by Saddam gold. A no defence catastrophe.
McBride made a conscious, determined effort to curb the panic, pressing one shaking hand down upon the other. All in the past: too long ago in the past. Before the appointment he’d been Bureau vetted, as a matter of course. Come through squeaky clean. Like he would again. Ridiculous to think there was any danger.
‘What about you, Mrs McBride?’
Hillary gave no outward, surprised reaction to the question. She said: ‘I may have offended a few people in the past but none that would have done a thing as unspeakable as this.’
‘You sure about that?’ demanded the emotionless man.
‘I’m talking secretaries or staff I’ve had to let go, for inefficiency. I don’t like inefficiency.’
‘Secretaries and staff have kidnapped in the past. You got names?’
Hillary frowned. ‘I suppose there’ll be records somewhere: not here, home in Virginia.’
‘Can you arrange for them to be made available to the Bureau there?’ said Norris.
‘I suppose so, if you consider it important.’
‘Everything’s important to get your daughter back.’
‘I don’t need to be told that!’ snapped the woman. ‘I’ll arrange it.’
McBride discovered his glass was empty and offered it sideways to Harding, who hesitated and then took it. Yes’m boss, thought the FBI man. Fuck it, he thought again, filling his own glass while he was about it. He didn’t bother with as much ice this time: the last one had become very watered down at the end.
‘We’ll need to filter everything coming into the embassy, certainly to you or Mrs McBride personally,’ said Norris. ‘That includes everything in the diplomatic bag, in the event that this might be a conspiracy starting out in Washington. The Director’s arranging for State to confirm my level of security clearance. Some of the people with me are communication experts. There’ll be a tap on every landline in and out of the embassy. Scanners will monitor mobiles. We’ll get a daily telephone printout from Belgacom. Those precautions will, of course, cover the ambassadorial residence and extend to the homes of every senior official in the embassy. I’ll need a list. I accept it’s an invasion of individual privacy but I want it made clear that has to be secondary to recovering your daughter. My sole interest – the sole interest of everyone with me – is the whereabouts of Mary Beth…’ He paused to emphasize the importance of what he was going to say. ‘Everything that comes to our attention during the investigation will be considered with the utmost discretion: nothing that isn’t part of this case is of any interest to us whatsoever. I’d like that assurance circulated throughout the embassy, along with my request for absolute cooperation from everyone.’
‘Give me an honest answer, Mr Norris,’ demanded Hillary. ‘How bad does it look?’
‘Bad.’
‘You think she’d dead?’ The woman’s voice was quite firm.
‘I think we need to hear something very soon.’
‘How long?’ said the ambassador.
‘Twenty-four hours.’
McBride closed his eyes, the despair genuine. ‘I keep thinking, trying to imagine, what she’s going through.’
‘Don’t,’ urged Norris. ‘It doesn’t help. Doesn’t achieve anything.’
‘What does?’ asked Hillary.
‘Nothing, in the position we’re in at the moment.’
As they walked towards the Bureau offices Norris checked, turning fully behind him to ensure no one was within hearing, before saying: ‘Shaking a lot at the beginning, wasn’t he?’
‘He’s lost a daughter, for Christ’s sake!’ said Harding, emboldened by the whisky.
‘So’s Mrs McBride. She was holding herself OK.’
‘What did you expect from McBride?’ asked Harding.
‘More outrage: exaggerated threats about what he’d like to do to whoever’s got her.’
‘That happen always?’
‘It’s a common reaction.’
‘You’re the psychologist.’