“All right, I’ll stick around and massage the data from Aunt Martha a while longer. I’ll yell if I find anything significant.”
“Thanks, Fred,” Neil said leaving a somewhat troubled Fred Wellman looking after him.
Chapter 16
Tuesday, September 30, 1980
Housekeeper, Irene Ridgeway, answered the telephone “Coleman residence,” she said crisply. It was 7:30 AM.
“This is Neil Klein from the State Department; I need to speak with General Coleman.”
“Just a moment, Mr. Klein, I’ll let the General know,” she said as she laid down the phone and hurried to the sunroom where Brad was drinking his coffee. “General, a gentleman from the State Department is on the phone for you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Ridgeway, I’ll take it in the study.”
“This is General Coleman.”
“Neil Klein, General. It’s imperative that we meet—and not at your office.”
“What’s this about, Klein?” Brad asked with mild irritation.
“I’d rather discuss this in person,” Neil replied.
“Why not my office? I’m really quite busy,” Brad told him.
“This conversation had better be outside your office and as inconspicuous as possible. I’ll give you this much information; it’s regarding the past and the present. Let’s meet tonight at the Watergate in the main bar.”
“What time?”
“Eight o’clock,” Neil answered.
“Fine, I’ll be there, but this had better not take much time. By the way, does this have anything to do with Evan Scott?”
Neil smiled, “Definitely. We’ll discuss it when we meet.”
The Watergate was bustling with new arrivals for an international trade conference scheduled to begin the next day. Neil arrived at 7:30 and threaded his way past the crowd into the bar and obtained a table in an out-of-the-way corner.
Brad was punctual. Settling into a chair opposite Neil he asked, “What’s this about Klein?” his hostility was evident. “You said the past and the present. As far as I can tell, you and I ‘were’, and still ‘are’, on opposite sides of nearly every issue so what is in the past remains in the present and the future. Is there anything else?” Brad asked smugly.
“This is about Seattle. You’ve been a busy man, General. I don’t suppose the names Charlene Thayer or Andrew Kincaid mean anything to you…,” he saw Coleman stiffen slightly, but remained stoic.
“Get to the point, Klein.”
“My point is this; your visit to Seattle did not go unnoticed. And funny thing, Coleman, your visit happened within a week of the murder of George Kelshaw. You remember George Kelshaw don’t you, General?” Neil watched Brad’s face and body language. He could see that Coleman was uncomfortable and working hard to contain his anger.
“I suppose your information came from Evan Scott,” Brad said sarcastically, not answering the question.
“Yes,” Neil said calmly, “As A matter of fact the information did come through Evan Scott.”
“Who is Evan Scott?” Brad demanded.
“He works for me,” Neil replied.
“Why can’t we find him?”
“Why are you looking for him?” Neil queried.
“Well ah I…” Brad stammered struggling to regain his self assurance.
“Let’s talk about George Kelshaw; I think that you were afraid that George carried some information that could be damning to you and you somehow arranged his death.
“Then there is the matter of Charlene Thayer, the widow of one of your closest friends; you lied to her… trying to convince her that the letter from Paul Thayer that George Kelshaw carried was a hoax. You lied about knowing George and you tried to intimidate Mrs. Thayer when she threatened to have the body in Paul Thayer’s grave exhumed. It might have worked, but you didn’t count on a Seattle newspaperman who had a few questions of his own.
“If what I have just recounted wasn’t bad enough, on Sunday there was the attempt to kill Charlene Thayer and Andrew Kincaid that I think you orchestrated. How do you sleep at night, Coleman?”
Brad glared at Neil, “Aside from the fact that I was at home in Alexandria on Sunday and could not possibly have done anything to Charlene Thayer or Andrew Kincaid in Seattle, I’m afraid I can’t help you, Klein. You have a lot of theories and I find all of them uncomplimentary.
“What possible motive would I have to do any of the egregious acts that you have just described? As for wishing Charlene Thayer any harm, you must be aware that I have offered to help her in any way that I can. If Evan Scott is your source for information perhaps you should employ someone else.”
Neil continued, “I know that you personally did not place the bomb that injured Charlene Thayer and Andrew Kincaid, but I am sure that you ordered it. I don’t know why you would go after any of these people except that one way or another it has something to do with George Kelshaw and the information he carried. And there is the fact that Charlene Thayer wants to know what happened to her husband.”
Brad saw an opening, “Really, Assistant Secretary Klein,” he said maliciously, “I don’t think your skirts are exactly clean in that matter since we both know that you had a major hand in the disappearance of Paul Thayer. Have you told Charlene Thayer that you helped with the cover-up? Does she know that you set Thayer up?”
Neil sidestepped Coleman’s ploy to put him on the defensive, “She knows that Paul Thayer was on a special ops mission to get Chernakov; there was no set-up or cover-up. It was a wartime assignment and you well know that families are never given the details of such missions.”
A twinge of guilt hit Neil; it was true that families were not given details of black missions; on the other hand he remembered the March night in 1970 that he, Kelshaw and Thayer had rendezvoused before Kelshaw and Paul had left for Udorn to wait for the last instructions to get Chernakov. When Kelshaw and Thayer were given the details of the mission and were told that it could take as long as six months and that there would be no contact with family, Paul protested being incommunicado for an extended length of time. Neil convinced Paul that the defection itself held priority and assured him that it might not be that long.
He remembered how the car bombing of which Paul was ignorant had played into the mission plans. Neil also remembered thinking that in a few short months Charlene Thayer would be thrilled to learn that her husband was not only alive, but had a heroic part in a major political rescue.
It angered Neil that Coleman now knew and had used that knowledge to inflict his conscience. With renewed ire he continued, “The plan to get Chernakov would have worked and one of the most important defections of the Cold War would have occurred, but someone sold them out! Someone leaked information and the arrow points straight at you, Coleman. We both know you were having an affair with a known Soviet Agent.”
Brad turned pale, “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Lia Duprè” Neil answered. “Even when you were warned, you continued to see her… and now the cat’s out of the bag and it’s all coming home to you.”
Angrily Brad said, “It sounds as though you are accusing me of treason, Klein. Be very careful in your accusations. Lia Duprè got no information about anything or anyone from me. Not after…” he stumbled, “I didn’t know anything about Chernakov.”
“If the shoe fits, Coleman; Duprè got information from someone she was sleeping with in the intelligence community,” Neil replied.
Brad drew a sharp breath, “It had to be Perkins,” he said.
“No, Coleman, you know it wasn’t Perkins; he had been shut out of the loop. None of the information regarding the Chernakov defection came close to Perkins. That leaves you,” Neil told him emphatically.