stage.’
‘I see. OK, thanks, Lisa.’
‘You’re welcome.’
The scene switched back to the CNN studio.
‘And we’ll update you as soon as we have any more information on this breaking story,’ the anchor said. ‘That’s the news this half-hour. Sports is next.’
Carlson turned the volume down again, and returned to The Washington Post . Having finished the article about the President, he stared out of the window for some time, then walked into the adjoining room, where his second-in-command, Dan Rogers, was reclining in an armchair, drinking a beer. Rogers was a little taller than Carlson, and powerfully built. The edge of a black dragon tattoo was visible under his left shirt sleeve. Like Carlson, he wore his hair cropped short. The two men had met during a particularly unpleasant campaign in Angola, and had been friends ever since. Rogers had a genius for technical and mechanical things which Carlson lacked, and he had been happy to put his skills at the service of the Commandant in return for some home-made insignia which proclaimed his high rank in the Sons of the Flag.
‘Where did our friend say he was going after he left here?’ Carlson asked.
Rogers took a swig of his beer.
‘Washington. He said there was some more information he was expecting from his source. Why?’
‘It’s probably nothing, but CNN just reported a murder in Washington, a woman, believed to be either European or Middle Eastern. The police wouldn’t give out a name. Just a coincidence, probably.’
‘Surely, you don’t think…?’
‘Who knows?’
Rogers frowned.
‘That doesn’t make sense. Why would he want to waste her?’
‘No reason that I can think of. But, then again, we are talking about our friend, aren’t we? He’s not the most stable of characters. You remember that time you had to pull him off that woman in Portland?’
‘Yeah, but he’s got his head screwed on, George. I can’t see him doing anything that stupid. In any case, if he has, that’s his problem.’
Carlson shook his head.
‘It’s our problem as well, if he gets picked up by the police. He knows too much.’
Rogers stood, finished his beer, and set the bottle down on a small table which stood beside his armchair.
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Have someone up there watch him for a few days. Maybe everything’s fine and dandy, but if it’s not, I want to know about it.’
‘I’ll give our people a call,’ Dan Rogers said.
8
K ELLY WAS BEGINNING to suffer from lack of sleep. In the light of what had been discovered, she decided not to speak about Lucia Benoni’s murder to Ted Lazenby over the phone. She needed to meet with him in person. After a hurried breakfast at an all-night café, she rushed home to shower and change, tried without success to reach Frank by phone, then drove swiftly to the Hoover Building. When she arrived, a little before seven, she found the Director waiting for her impatiently in his office. He seemed as agitated as she felt herself. As calmly as she could, Kelly gave Lazenby a full account of her visit to the North West crime scene. He listened tight-lipped, without interrupting, sitting nervously at his desk. When she finished, Lazenby stood and paced up and down for some time.
‘This is great, just great,’ he observed grimly. ‘Where’s the supposed White House pass?’
‘With the officer in charge, Lieutenant Morris. It’s their evidence, Sir, and it’s still their case. I had no basis for asking for it. I’m not sure there’s anything to worry about. There’s probably a simple explanation.’
Lazenby looked at her directly.
‘Is there? You obviously haven’t read the papers yet. What have you been doing since you got back?’
‘Trying to salvage what’s left of my love life.’
Lazenby managed a weak smile of sympathy, as he pushed his copy of The Washington Post to her across his desk.
‘This should take your mind off that for a while.’
‘What am I looking
‘I see. OK, thanks, Lisa.’
‘You’re welcome.’
The scene switched back to the CNN studio.
‘And we’ll update you as soon as we have any more information on this breaking story,’ the anchor said. ‘That’s the news this half-hour. Sports is next.’
Carlson turned the volume down again, and returned to The Washington Post . Having finished the article about the President, he stared out of the window for some time, then walked into the adjoining room, where his second-in-command, Dan Rogers, was reclining in an armchair, drinking a beer. Rogers was a little taller than Carlson, and powerfully built. The edge of a black dragon tattoo was visible under his left shirt sleeve. Like Carlson, he wore his hair cropped short. The two men had met during a particularly unpleasant campaign in Angola, and had been friends ever since. Rogers had a genius for technical and mechanical things which Carlson lacked, and he had been happy to put his skills at the service of the Commandant in return for some home-made insignia which proclaimed his high rank in the Sons of the Flag.
‘Where did our friend say he was going after he left here?’ Carlson asked.
Rogers took a swig of his beer.
‘Washington. He said there was some more information he was expecting from his source. Why?’
‘It’s probably nothing, but CNN just reported a murder in Washington, a woman, believed to be either European or Middle Eastern. The police wouldn’t give out a name. Just a coincidence, probably.’
‘Surely, you don’t think…?’
‘Who knows?’
Rogers frowned.
‘That doesn’t make sense. Why would he want to waste her?’
‘No reason that I can think of. But, then again, we are talking about our friend, aren’t we? He’s not the most stable of characters. You remember that time you had to pull him off that woman in Portland?’
‘Yeah, but he’s got his head screwed on, George. I can’t see him doing anything that stupid. In any case, if he has, that’s his problem.’
Carlson shook his head.
‘It’s our problem as well, if he gets picked up by the police. He knows too much.’
Rogers stood, finished his beer, and set the bottle down on a small table which stood beside his armchair.
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Have someone up there watch him for a few days. Maybe everything’s fine and dandy, but if it’s not, I want to know about it.’
‘I’ll give our people a call,’ Dan Rogers said.
8
K ELLY WAS BEGINNING to suffer from lack of sleep. In the light of what had been discovered, she decided not to speak about Lucia Benoni’s murder to Ted Lazenby over the phone. She needed to meet with him in person. After a hurried breakfast at an all-night café, she rushed home to shower and change, tried without success to reach Frank by phone, then drove swiftly to the Hoover Building. When she arrived, a little before seven, she found the Director waiting for her impatiently in his office. He seemed as agitated as she felt herself. As calmly as she could, Kelly gave Lazenby a full account of her visit to the North West crime scene. He listened tight-lipped, without interrupting, sitting nervously at his desk. When she finished, Lazenby stood and paced up and down for some time.
‘This is great, just great,’ he observed grimly. ‘Where’s the supposed White House pass?’
‘With the officer in charge, Lieutenant Morris. It’s their evidence, Sir, and it’s still their case. I had no basis for asking for it. I’m not sure there’s anything to worry about. There’s probably a simple explanation.’
Lazenby looked at her directly.
‘Is there? You obviously haven’t read the papers yet. What have you been doing since you got back?’
‘Trying to salvage what’s left of my love life.’
Lazenby managed a weak smile of sympathy, as he pushed his copy of The Washington Post to her across his desk.
‘This should take your mind off that for a while.’
‘What am I looking
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