Read Online In the Name of a Killer by Brian Freemantle - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Brian Freemantle
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‘He’s deeply shocked and asked me to pass on his condolences.’
‘That all! He didn’t talk about what we were going to do?’
‘He knows of this meeting. He’s asked to be kept informed.’
‘ I’ll inform him,’ said Burden, threateningly. ‘He’ll take my call.’
‘I’m sure he will,’ agreed Hartz. He decided to make his own contact, as well, to correct whatever slant Burden imposed in his account: it would be a very personal interpretation.
‘I would expect our investigative technology is more advanced than the Russians,’ offered Ross, reflectively. It was a professional remark, not offered as a defence against the Senator’s pop-eyed outrage.
‘I’m damned sure it is!’ said Burden, aggressively.
‘So?’ queried the CIA chief.
‘Maybe that would be the way to get in,’ suggested the Bureau Director. ‘Offer all and every access to our scientific facilities.’
‘Offer!’ echoed Burden, sneering. ‘Ask, you mean? Cap-in-hand?’
Ross sighed loudly. ‘I thought the point was to become involved.’
‘I think it’s a good idea,’ said Hartz. ‘I’ll raise it with the ambassador.’
‘We sure this is a genuine murder?’ demanded Burden, with sudden suspicion. ‘Has anyone thought that this might be an official assassination?’
Now it was the two Directors who looked incredulous: it was the unintimidated Ross who spoke for both, although still restrained. ‘What possible reason could there be for assassinating Ann Harris?’
‘I’m no admirer of Russia,’ admitted Burden, openly.
Hartz was well enough aware of Burden’s conceit, but decided this verged on megalomania. ‘Everything that has come from Moscow indicates a street mugging.’
‘Put it to your people in Moscow,’ ordered Burden, talking to the CIA Director. ‘I want that checked out.’
Now it was Holmes who reddened slightly. He nodded, saying nothing. Son-of-a-bitch, he thought.
‘Be direct with the ambassador, too,’ said Burden, continuing the instructions.
‘I’ll do what I consider best,’ said Hartz, finally resisting, although very weakly.
Pinpricks of colour now registered on Burden’s face and his mouth formed into an angry line. ‘This isn’t an ordinary murder: this isn’t the killing of someone who didn’t matter. Don’t forget that.’
‘The Bureau doesn’t consider anyone who gets murdered to be unimportant,’ said Ross, increasingly impatient.
‘I want a daily briefing,’ Burden insisted to the Secretary of State. ‘I want to know the outcome of the meeting with the ambassador and I want to hear everything that comes out of Moscow …’ He hesitated, looking to the CIA Director. ‘And don’t forget, either, to check the assassination theory.’
No one spoke in the first few moments after Burden’s departure. Then Holmes said: ‘What fucking assassination theory? Jesus Christ!’
‘I believe he thinks he’s Him,’ said Ross. ‘Can either of you begin to imagine what it will be like if he does become President? Thank God I’m not a Washington careerist.’
‘Power and influence,’ warned Hartz. ‘When he says jump, Congress jumps. All together. And Burden controls the budget like a miser worried about cash flow.’ A diplomatic negotiator on every level, Hartz added: ‘If we were allowed in, it would be the Bureau responsibility, right?’
‘Yes,’ said Ross.
‘Would you use your man already at the Moscow embassy?’
The Bureau Director shook his head, at once. ‘From the Bureau here.’
‘Why not run a feasibility, just in case?’
Throughout the day Walter Burden made himself available to all three major television networks and every newspaper or magazine which approached him, which was a lot, not just American but foreign publications as well. He declared himself devastated by the crime. Ann Harris was a niece whom he’d loved dearly, whose life had been only just beginning. He had spoken personally with the President and had been
‘That all! He didn’t talk about what we were going to do?’
‘He knows of this meeting. He’s asked to be kept informed.’
‘ I’ll inform him,’ said Burden, threateningly. ‘He’ll take my call.’
‘I’m sure he will,’ agreed Hartz. He decided to make his own contact, as well, to correct whatever slant Burden imposed in his account: it would be a very personal interpretation.
‘I would expect our investigative technology is more advanced than the Russians,’ offered Ross, reflectively. It was a professional remark, not offered as a defence against the Senator’s pop-eyed outrage.
‘I’m damned sure it is!’ said Burden, aggressively.
‘So?’ queried the CIA chief.
‘Maybe that would be the way to get in,’ suggested the Bureau Director. ‘Offer all and every access to our scientific facilities.’
‘Offer!’ echoed Burden, sneering. ‘Ask, you mean? Cap-in-hand?’
Ross sighed loudly. ‘I thought the point was to become involved.’
‘I think it’s a good idea,’ said Hartz. ‘I’ll raise it with the ambassador.’
‘We sure this is a genuine murder?’ demanded Burden, with sudden suspicion. ‘Has anyone thought that this might be an official assassination?’
Now it was the two Directors who looked incredulous: it was the unintimidated Ross who spoke for both, although still restrained. ‘What possible reason could there be for assassinating Ann Harris?’
‘I’m no admirer of Russia,’ admitted Burden, openly.
Hartz was well enough aware of Burden’s conceit, but decided this verged on megalomania. ‘Everything that has come from Moscow indicates a street mugging.’
‘Put it to your people in Moscow,’ ordered Burden, talking to the CIA Director. ‘I want that checked out.’
Now it was Holmes who reddened slightly. He nodded, saying nothing. Son-of-a-bitch, he thought.
‘Be direct with the ambassador, too,’ said Burden, continuing the instructions.
‘I’ll do what I consider best,’ said Hartz, finally resisting, although very weakly.
Pinpricks of colour now registered on Burden’s face and his mouth formed into an angry line. ‘This isn’t an ordinary murder: this isn’t the killing of someone who didn’t matter. Don’t forget that.’
‘The Bureau doesn’t consider anyone who gets murdered to be unimportant,’ said Ross, increasingly impatient.
‘I want a daily briefing,’ Burden insisted to the Secretary of State. ‘I want to know the outcome of the meeting with the ambassador and I want to hear everything that comes out of Moscow …’ He hesitated, looking to the CIA Director. ‘And don’t forget, either, to check the assassination theory.’
No one spoke in the first few moments after Burden’s departure. Then Holmes said: ‘What fucking assassination theory? Jesus Christ!’
‘I believe he thinks he’s Him,’ said Ross. ‘Can either of you begin to imagine what it will be like if he does become President? Thank God I’m not a Washington careerist.’
‘Power and influence,’ warned Hartz. ‘When he says jump, Congress jumps. All together. And Burden controls the budget like a miser worried about cash flow.’ A diplomatic negotiator on every level, Hartz added: ‘If we were allowed in, it would be the Bureau responsibility, right?’
‘Yes,’ said Ross.
‘Would you use your man already at the Moscow embassy?’
The Bureau Director shook his head, at once. ‘From the Bureau here.’
‘Why not run a feasibility, just in case?’
Throughout the day Walter Burden made himself available to all three major television networks and every newspaper or magazine which approached him, which was a lot, not just American but foreign publications as well. He declared himself devastated by the crime. Ann Harris was a niece whom he’d loved dearly, whose life had been only just beginning. He had spoken personally with the President and had been
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