“If he wasn’t Agency, then I could probably get records without a problem, right?”
“Maybe. I don’t see why not.”
Teren watched Alex as she jotted down Darryl Wilford’s name. She wondered if the FBI agent would ask her the right questions.
“Did Mather or Wilford have any tattoos?”
An eyebrow rose on the face of the darker woman. That was one Reis got right. “I know that George had two tattoos. I’m not sure about Wilford.”
“Could you tell me the location, and what the tattoos were?”
“One was a spiderweb, on his leg.”
“His leg? Normally, when someone gets a spiderweb tattoo it means they’ve killed someone, normally a black person or a Jew. The web goes on an arm, as a badge, so others can see it.”
“Right, but George knew the agency wouldn’t like it, so he had his put on his right thigh.”
“Unfortunately, not much flesh was left on the legs of our shooter. Do you know if he — how shall I say this — ‘earned’ the spiderweb?”
“Yes, he did. Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to say more.”
“I see. What about the other tattoo?”
“It was on the underside of the upper arm. Double lightning bolts. And I don’t suppose I need to tell you what they mean.”
“No.”
“Did you find them?”
“Yes.”
Teren waited.
“So, may I presume, from the tattoos, and your statements, that George Mather was involved in the Nazi movement?”
“You may. But you’d be wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
“Mather wasn’t involved in any cause. He wasn’t a Nazi, he wasn’t a white supremacist, and the only cause he believed in was his own. I’m not saying he wasn’t prejudiced; he was. Like I said earlier, he hated gays, and I know he wasn’t fond of blacks or Jews. But he killed for money. He joined groups because they paid him. He got cash for doing something he liked doing.”
“So, why the tattoos, then?”
“Why not? If they wanted to think he was a part of them, he would have let them think that. No reason not to. But if someone outside had offered him money to kill someone in the group, he’d have taken it.”
“Do you know how much he would have been paid for a hit?”
“Depending on the target, and the location, anywhere between forty and a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Cash?”
“Yes. Or an electronic transfer. They would have had to deposit it directly into his account.”
“And the hit would be made after payment was accepted?”
“Correct.”
Alex made a note to herself to call Research about financial records, then leaned back in her chair.
“What can tell me about Mather’s family, or his friends? Where did he hang out, who —”
“I’m sorry, Agent Reis. George’s wife died two years ago. They never had kids. George’s parents have been dead for years, and he didn’t have any brothers or sisters. He was close to his wife’s family, but they haven’t seen him, or Darryl, since the incident in Eastern Europe. I don’t know anything about his social life; it’s not like we were close.”
“I take it you’ve been reseaching this.”
“I’ve been looking for the son of a bitch for six months. I gotta tell you, finding out he’d been killed didn’t make me happy. I’d been looking forward to making him bleed.”
Both of them were quiet. Alex tapped her pen against her notebook. Teren dropped her eyes to the floor, a little embarrassed at what for her was an emotional outburst.
When Alex finally spoke, it was in a subdued voice. “Is there anything else you can tell me, Ms. Mylos?”
“Only this. I might have a line on where Mather was staying. I have a hunch it’ll tell you a little more about who he was working for. When I find it, I’ll call you.”
“I’m not sure I understand. The man who betrayed you is dead. Why would you have any further interest in this matter?”
“Cause if anyone was going to take out George Mather it should have been me. Now I guess I’ll have to settle for finding the guys who paid him to do what he did.”
“You mean the people who paid him to kill Reginald Dabir?”
“No. I mean the people who paid him to rat on his fellow agents. Like I said, George liked money. He wouldn’t have given us up if there wasn’t something in it for him. I want to know where the money came from. But if I find something that will be helpful to you I’ll let you know.”
“Is there any possibility the same group paid him for both jobs?”
The question silenced Teren, and she took a full minute to think about it. Again the agent had asked the right question.
“I think that’s a strong possibility. However, I can’t discuss anything to do with the operation, and therefore I can’t tell you why I believe it might be true.”
“I understand. But remember this. If they are the same people, then we’re on the same side. And I want to get these fuckers as much as you do.”
Teren could tell that Alex absolutely believed in her statement. But she knew better.
She gave the smaller woman an ironic smile. “I doubt it.”
They stared silently at each other for a moment more, then Alex cleared her throat.
“Would you care to see the video now?”
“Certainly.”
Alex could feel Teren’s eyes on her back as they walked down the hall to the tape room.
*******************************************************
Just as she was leaving her office for the night, the phone rang. With a groan, Alex picked it up, while dropping back into her chair.
“Agent Reis.”
“Alex, what the hell are you still doing there at 7: 10 in the evening? I thought you said this meeting probably wouldn’t take too long?”
“Well, David, I was wrong.” She waited for David to say more, but he was quiet.
“Are you okay, partner?”
“Yeah, I’m all right. I’m just tired. But I’ll be on my way to your house in a few minutes. We’ve got a few things to talk about.”
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You sound way low on reserves. Why don’t you lay it all out for me in the morning when I pick you up?”
“I’m really okay, Dave.”
“Right. And I’m running for President. Get real.”
She had to laugh. “All right, so I feel like crap. A long bath and a warm bed sound pretty good. Much better than dragging my ass all the way to your place.”
“Sounds better to me, too. After all, when you show up looking tired, Miri pays more attention to you than me.”
“She does not.”
“Does too. Hey, how about a little teaser, huh? Did Mr. CIA have anything for us?”
“No. But Ms. CIA had some interesting stuff.”
“Ms? Uh, oh. Were you working your charms on her, Alex? Is that why you’re so tired?”
“No way. I’d probably get frostbite if I tried to charm her. Either that or a cement overcoat.”
“That bad?”
“Yeah. But the good news is, she I.D.‘d the shooter, and gave us a good line on who the driver was. Seems she’s been looking for the guy, herself.”
“Why?”
“Seems he blew the lid on an undercover operation she was involved in, and someone died.”
“Who?”
“Her partner, Perry Watson.”
“No shit?”
“Nope.”
Alex could hear David tapping his pencil. “Is there more?”
“Yes. Do you want me to come over tonight, or can you wait ‘til tomorrow?”
“I guess I can wait. You will be ready at eight-thirty, right?”
“Are you bringing breakfast?”
“Don’t I always?”
“Yep, I’ll be ready. Probably not awake, but ready.”
*******************************************************
Alex pulled her short coat tighter against her as she exited the building. The weather recently had been nice during the day, but this late in the evening the season was obvious. February was usually cold and snowy. So far, flakes hadn’t fallen, but Alex wouldn’t be surprised if there was white on the ground by morning.
She began the walk to the Metro station, her briefcase hanging from a strap on her shoulder. She wished she’d remembered to grab her hat before she left home that morning. She’d remembered gloves, though, and she gratefully stopped to pull them from her pocket. As she slid them over her cold fingers, she felt it.