let's take a few minutes and tell Ben what we know."
"And after that, we're doing things my way," Fulton replied. "Otherwise, I'll get Mr. Slater to call Hennessey and straighten it out."
Ben was ready to pack up and head back to his office. Seeing this, Traynor held up his head. "Let's take a break," he said coolly, "and go to the men's room."
On the way, Traynor filled Ben in. "The kid's new. He's smart, but he's young and inexperienced. He's landed this big job on Slater's staff, and he wants to make a good impression. Get ahead fast. You know what I mean. Let him talk. We'll ignore him and do it our way."
That was a ludicrous proposal, coming from a guy who knows better, Ben thought. How bad could somebody want to retire? "That's a great way to approach a major case."
Traynor winced. "We don't have a choice. I don't like it any better than you. Please, we've got to work with him."
Ben didn't respond until they were alone in the bathroom washing their hands. "Is this hotshot naturally so obnoxious, or does he work at being that way?"
"Please, Ben, as a personal favor to me, try to work with him. This case is so high-profile that my ass is now on the line if something doesn't happen soon. You can't believe the heat we're getting from the White House."
Back in the conference room, Traynor went over to Fulton and persuaded him that they should give Ben a summary of what they'd found. Over a fresh cup of coffee, Traynor started talking. "Here's what we know so far. The secretary of state was home alone with two guards out in front of his house on Linean Court. At two o'clock, he had a visitor for a scheduled meeting. State Department business. A George Nesbitt, who showed a California driver's license for ID. We haven't been able to locate Nesbitt."
Traynor paused to sip some coffee. "There was a gardener, Clyde Gillis, working in the yard in the afternoon, raking leaves. Gillis's first story was that he was never in the house. He told us that about seven last evening. Since we had fingerprints and shoe prints in the house, we took samples from Gillis."
"And?"
"We made a positive ID about midnight, including a fingerprint on Winthrop's chest and another one on his wrist. So we went back to Gillis and told him that."
That wasn't the way the FBI operated. They gathered all of the evidence in a methodical way before confronting a suspect. It was obvious to Ben that Fulton had been calling the shots.
"And?" Ben asked.
"At about four a.m. we got story number two from Gillis. He entered the house to collect a check for his work. He found Winthrop's dead body, got scared, and ran away without telling anyone what he saw."
Gillis's story sounded plausible to Ben. "Where is he now?"
"At home in southeast Washington. We asked him not to leave his house for the next six hours. He agreed. We've got two agents out in front to follow him if he runs."
"You asked him not to leave his house, and he voluntarily agreed?" Ben asked skeptically.
"Yeah, that's right," Fulton responded.
Traynor looked embarrassed. He knew that they weren't following standard FBI procedures.
Ben said, "Tell me what happened."
"We leaned on him pretty hard. We told him if he set foot out of the house or used the telephone, we would immediately arrest him."
Ben shook his head in disgust. "For which you didn't have probable cause. So you decided to place him under virtual house arrest, and I assume that when you asked him for the prints, you told him that he had a right to counsel and that he didn't have to talk to you or anyone without first consulting a lawyer."
A heavy silence hung over the room. "I decided not to," Fulton replied defiantly.
Ben was stunned. "You ever take a course in criminal procedure? You ever hear about the Fifth Amendment?"
"Don't be a wise guy," Fulton said, though he began fiddling with his college ring engraved with fraternity initials. "I want him to talk. I don't want him clamming up."
"Why didn't you hook electrodes
"And after that, we're doing things my way," Fulton replied. "Otherwise, I'll get Mr. Slater to call Hennessey and straighten it out."
Ben was ready to pack up and head back to his office. Seeing this, Traynor held up his head. "Let's take a break," he said coolly, "and go to the men's room."
On the way, Traynor filled Ben in. "The kid's new. He's smart, but he's young and inexperienced. He's landed this big job on Slater's staff, and he wants to make a good impression. Get ahead fast. You know what I mean. Let him talk. We'll ignore him and do it our way."
That was a ludicrous proposal, coming from a guy who knows better, Ben thought. How bad could somebody want to retire? "That's a great way to approach a major case."
Traynor winced. "We don't have a choice. I don't like it any better than you. Please, we've got to work with him."
Ben didn't respond until they were alone in the bathroom washing their hands. "Is this hotshot naturally so obnoxious, or does he work at being that way?"
"Please, Ben, as a personal favor to me, try to work with him. This case is so high-profile that my ass is now on the line if something doesn't happen soon. You can't believe the heat we're getting from the White House."
Back in the conference room, Traynor went over to Fulton and persuaded him that they should give Ben a summary of what they'd found. Over a fresh cup of coffee, Traynor started talking. "Here's what we know so far. The secretary of state was home alone with two guards out in front of his house on Linean Court. At two o'clock, he had a visitor for a scheduled meeting. State Department business. A George Nesbitt, who showed a California driver's license for ID. We haven't been able to locate Nesbitt."
Traynor paused to sip some coffee. "There was a gardener, Clyde Gillis, working in the yard in the afternoon, raking leaves. Gillis's first story was that he was never in the house. He told us that about seven last evening. Since we had fingerprints and shoe prints in the house, we took samples from Gillis."
"And?"
"We made a positive ID about midnight, including a fingerprint on Winthrop's chest and another one on his wrist. So we went back to Gillis and told him that."
That wasn't the way the FBI operated. They gathered all of the evidence in a methodical way before confronting a suspect. It was obvious to Ben that Fulton had been calling the shots.
"And?" Ben asked.
"At about four a.m. we got story number two from Gillis. He entered the house to collect a check for his work. He found Winthrop's dead body, got scared, and ran away without telling anyone what he saw."
Gillis's story sounded plausible to Ben. "Where is he now?"
"At home in southeast Washington. We asked him not to leave his house for the next six hours. He agreed. We've got two agents out in front to follow him if he runs."
"You asked him not to leave his house, and he voluntarily agreed?" Ben asked skeptically.
"Yeah, that's right," Fulton responded.
Traynor looked embarrassed. He knew that they weren't following standard FBI procedures.
Ben said, "Tell me what happened."
"We leaned on him pretty hard. We told him if he set foot out of the house or used the telephone, we would immediately arrest him."
Ben shook his head in disgust. "For which you didn't have probable cause. So you decided to place him under virtual house arrest, and I assume that when you asked him for the prints, you told him that he had a right to counsel and that he didn't have to talk to you or anyone without first consulting a lawyer."
A heavy silence hung over the room. "I decided not to," Fulton replied defiantly.
Ben was stunned. "You ever take a course in criminal procedure? You ever hear about the Fifth Amendment?"
"Don't be a wise guy," Fulton said, though he began fiddling with his college ring engraved with fraternity initials. "I want him to talk. I don't want him clamming up."
"Why didn't you hook electrodes
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