Part 17 (1/2)
Two hours later they were ready.
A digital timer sat next to a telephone. A recorder was attached to the phone, and pads had been laid out for Valerie and Gary, who would listen on an earpiece wired into the phone.
”The call's being shunted through a series of forwards,” Gary explained as Valerie reviewed the notes she'd made for her call. ”It'll go to my office, then to a place I have on Fire Island. From there it'll be transferred to a safe line in Los Angeles, then to a Baltimore bar that does favors for us. From Maryland it'll go to your office.”
Valerie shook her head. ”I don't understand the twentieth century.”
”Neither do I,” he said as he entered a code on the telephone's keypad. ”Which is why I pay Ma Bell for this service.”
”Unbelievable.” She took a deep breath. ”What do I dial?”
”Just your office's general number,” the lawyer warned. ”No direct lines or dedicated numbers, they're too easy to trace. Go through the general switchboard and don't stay on longer than four minutes.”
Valerie began dialing.
”The Honorable Valerie Alvarez,” New York, Twenty-third District. How may we help you?
Gary took the receiver. ”Barbara Krusiec,” please.
”Who shall I say is calling in reference to what?”
”My name's Darrow, and I'm calling in reference to-he read a note Valerie pa.s.sed him-”a mortgage application Ms. Krusiec has filed with our company.”
”One moment, please.”
Two minutes later Krusiec answered the phone and Gary started the timer.
”Mr. Darrow, this isn't a real good time. I can only give you a couple of minutes. So I hope you have some good news for me,” she said lightly.
”Barb,” Valerie said quickly, ”it's me.”
”Valerie! s.h.i.+t! Where are you?”
”Calm down and listen.” Valerie carefully read from her prepared, timed script. ”Tell me what you know.”
There was a too long silence on the other end. When Krusiec spoke again, it was in a near whisper. ”FBI has been at your house, at two of the field offices. Very low-key, but with warrants and att.i.tude.”
”What are they looking for?”
”Won't say, but whatever it is, it must be bad. Where are you? What's happening?”
Valerie watched the timer roll. ”Any press inquiries?”
”Nothing specific, but building interest.” A brief silence. ”Tell me where you are. If you're in trouble, I'll come and get you.”
Valerie smiled at the commitment in her best friend/ a.s.sistant's voice.
”Look, things are going to start breaking and we're going to need to start getting our story out fast.” Valerie skipped the next notes and proceeded to the circled paragraph in her notes. ”I'm being set up to take the fall in a conspiracy that's going to make Watergate look smalltime. It involves-”
”Maybe you shouldn't be talking like this,” her a.s.sistant/friend cut her off.
”It's our best shot. You'll need to call a press conference or something, but that's getting ahead of ourselves.” Valerie was skimming over the next part, thinking how best to synopsize everything she had to tell the other woman.
”No,” Krusiec said flatly.
”What was that?”
Krusiec's voice came through filled with dark concern. ”If you whisper one word of what's happened, Drake will be dead before the press conference is over, you know that.”
Valerie stiffened. ”What? Have they contacted-”
”Listen. They say you need to come in, deliver the reports on Pei, and finish your questioning.”
”My G.o.d.” Valerie couldn't catch her breath or control her heartbeats. ”They did contact you! What did they say about Cathy and-”
”Valerie. Listen. They don't want to hurt anyone. They say everything that happened before was a mistake and they can make it right. But only if you come in. I have a.s.surances from the highest levels on that.”
Before a pale Valerie could respond, Gary reached out and slammed his hand down on the receiver b.u.t.ton.
”So much for your options,” he mumbled as Valerie clawed at him to move his hand.
”G.o.ddammit! Let me talk to her! She's talked to them! d.a.m.n you!” She desperately tried to pry the lawyer's hand off the disconnect switch, only to be restrained by one of Gary's gunmen.
”It's okay,” he said to the man who released the furious woman. He removed his hand. ”Call her. Go ahead, go to her ... and you and your children can die together,” he said in a cold but somehow reasonable tone.
”What?”
He looked her in the eyes, his own reflecting absolute certainty. ”She's in it with them.”
”No! Not Barbara, you don't know her!”
The lawyer's only response was to rewind the tape and play back the conversation.
”G.o.d in Heaven,” Valerie barely whispered when it stopped. ”My G.o.d in Heaven.”
In a midtown Manhattan office building, Canvas put down the headphones that he'd used to listen to a replay of the conversation. He glanced down at his few notes, made a couple more, then looked up at the others in the room.
”Options, gentlemen,” he said shortly.
”Not enough time for a meaningful trace,” one said. ”But the call did come from the continental United States.”
”VSA showed high stress, but general truthfulness in her voice,” another added.
”Wonderful,” Canvas sighed. ”She didn't say s.h.i.+t that was helpful, but she meant every word.” He exhaled, as if he was trying to rid himself of the two problems that had kept him awake for over fifty hours so far.
Problem one: killing a member of the United States Congress-whether they could make it look like an accident or not-would draw the most intense heat possible. FBI, local cops, maybe a Justice Department task force and congressional investigators. Particularly now that his hands were tied by the floated traitor story. If the FBI believed Valerie a traitor, they would a.s.sume that those she worked for had killed her.
And redouble their efforts to expose them by solving the killing.
Canvas had argued for over an hour with the German that Beijing's order was impractical, unwieldy, and-frankly-insane. But the man had simply replied that these new orders came directly from Beijing and were unchallengeable. Valerie and Xenos were to be killed.