Read Online Bloodmoney by David Ignatius - Free Book Online Page A

that could, um, destroy my business.”
    “You deny it. We deny it. We say it’s a complete fabrication. Outrageous falsehood. If need be, the State Department spokesman will say it’s propaganda to smear an innocent businessman. That’s the deal. Total denial. And it goes away.”
    “Sorry to break this to you, whatever your name is, but people don’t believe the U.S. government.”
    “Well, too bad for them. But nothing bad will happen to you. I promise. And your country appreciates what you have done. Deeply. And we know how to show our appreciation, as you are aware.”
    “More help from the government. Just what I need.” There was a note of sarcasm in his voice now.
    “I don’t think any of this is going to happen, Mr. Perkins. I should tell you that. I mean the interrogation and all that.”
    “Oh, yeah? Why not?”
    “Because I think that Howard is dead. He would resist capture by anyone. If he was taken, he had ways of, how shall I put this, avoiding interrogation.”
    “You mean he would kill himself?”
    Gertz didn’t respond. He waited a moment, and then went on with his speech.
    “We’ll send someone by your residence this morning to help with the statement. All right? And then someone will contact you as we make a more careful investigation of all this.”
    “What about the system? Is that going to continue?”
    Gertz glanced at Marx. Her head was down. She was reading something.
    “I don’t know about any ‘system,’ sorry. Can’t help you with that.”
    “Should I talk with Anthony Cronin? He was my, you know, my regular ‘contact.’”
    “No. Don’t talk to anyone except the people I send you.”
    “Have I met you?” Perkins asked again.
    Gertz ignored the question. He was impatient now. He had done his business with Perkins. He wanted to get off the phone.
    “Who are you sending?” Perkins continued. “Because, frankly, I don’t want to get in any deeper. This is a mess. I don’t need some clumsy, uh, government official.”
    “I will find a good contact for you,” said Gertz. He was looking at Sophie Marx, who met his eye this time. “I have someone sophisticated and sensible, who can put everything back together when the dust settles. We understand your problems. We’ll help you get them sorted out. That’s a promise.”

    Gertz turned to Sophie when the call ended.
    “How did I do?” he asked. He was vain that way. He wanted reviews.
    “Adequately,” she answered. “Do you know him?”
    “Yes and no.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Nothing.”
    He wasn’t going to answer, so she stopped trying.
    “Poor Mr. Perkins,” she said. “I don’t blame him for being unhappy. We should never have used a real company as a platform for someone like Egan who could get grabbed. That was stupid. How did it happen? And what did he mean by ‘the system’? What’s that all about?”
    “I have no idea,” said Gertz blandly. “Probably he was talking about the way they paid Egan.”
    “Who’s Anthony Cronin?”
    “Cronin’s an old NOC handler. And you’re right about Egan’s financial cover. It started before my time. Yours, too. Too late for second-guessing. Perkins will be all right. He’s just scared.”
    It was near midnight, and Marx had many more hours of work to do. But Gertz had said something at the end of the phone call that she wanted to pin down.
    “Were you suggesting that I go to London?” she asked. “Did I hear that right?”
    “Maybe.” He winked. “If you want to.”
    Her brow furrowed a moment, and she bit her upper lip. She was trying to decide if she should tell him something.
    “I would like to go almost anywhere, and especially London. But you should know that I was on the no-travel list back at Headquarters. After I got burned in Beirut and Addis, they thought it was unsafe. I should have told you that before.”
    “I don’t care what Headquarters says. What do you think? Are you still hot? Would it be dangerous?”
    She shook