Bonereapers (15 page)

“To think she might be the First Lady of the United States and she’d throw it all away to go slumming with a has-been musician. The French have a phrase, nostalgia for the mud.” Keyes loaded a forkful of eel into his mouth.

Dinah nibbled on a piece of rye bread. He was taking his sweet time to get around to saying what he wanted from her. While his mouth was full of eel, she veered off topic. “I think the motive for Eftevang’s murder originated in Myzandia.”

For a split second, he seemed nonplussed. He reached for his coffee cup and took a long, slow sip. “Why do you say that?”

“Eftevang hated Tillcorp because of something it did over there. Have you heard a rumor about the company taking advantage of a crop failure, or causing it?”

“There are always rumors. The country has dozens of warring factions and no reputable institutions. It’s a hotbed of misinformation and distrust.” He flicked a look toward Mahler, whose face was hidden behind a newspaper. Once again, Dinah thought she saw a flash of malice in Keyes’ eyes.

“Mr. Mahler told me that you’ve also had difficulties doing business in the country.”

“Suspicion and superstitions are a given in that part of Africa. My clinics try to serve as large a section of the population as we can with the widest range of care and medicines we can procure. It’s a challenge, but we hope that the people will eventually trust us enough to let us vaccinate their children against measles and polio.”

“Do your health clinics also distribute Tillcorp’s seeds or information about them?”

“If they do, I’m not aware of it. The clinics are managed by doctors hired by a consortium of international philanthropists, including my wife and a group of Norwegian contributors.” He removed his little half-moon glasses and polished one lens with his napkin. “Norwegians have a penchant for philanthropy. They need to assuage their guilt, I expect.”

“What do Norwegians have to feel guilty about?”

“Nothing more nefarious than capitalism. Norway has substantial commercial interests in Africa. They’ve acquired large tracts of timber and a number of disused and underdeveloped plantations to grow corn and sugar beets for biofuels.”

He set his glasses back on his nose. “Back to Erika. Of course, we hope her little exploit doesn’t torpedo Colt’s presidential chances.”

“Senator Sheridan doesn’t think she’s motivated by politics.”

“He may be right. He doesn’t want to believe she would hurt him deliberately and neither do I. Actually, we think she was influenced by someone else, someone who is working for one of Colt’s rivals.” His voice became cunning. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the dirty tricks that go on during a political campaign. Colt’s rivals are constantly on the lookout for gotcha moments they can use against him and, while we’d like to remain above such gamesmanship, it’s not possible to be both noble and victorious. Politics is war.”

“It’s supposed to be war without bloodshed,” she said, “and yet Mr. Eftevang’s murder appears to have been motivated by politics.”

His forehead pleated. “I doubt that very much. But Valerie thinks that Erika was manipulated by someone with a political motive.”

“Who?”

“You.”

It was Dinah’s turn to be nonplussed.

“A pretty young woman in a low-level position would pass under our radar without raising anyone’s suspicion. Playing cards with Erika, talking to her about music, coaxing her into revealing confidential secrets. Someone with knowledge of our excursion to Longyearbyen, someone who knew that Mahler would be traveling with us contacted this Eftevang person. Val has learned that he was in France only a few days ago and yet he showed up here, knowing that she and Jake were aboard our plane. How could he know that? You can see that the timing is suspicious.”

A pain streaked down Dinah’s arm and she winced. “I didn’t know the man existed until he yelled ‘death gene’ in the Svalbard Airport and I certainly didn’t contact him. Valerie was right when she pegged me as apolitical. I have no desire to meddle in Senator Sheridan’s campaign or his marriage.”

Keyes drank a bit of coffee and pushed the smoked eel aside. “If that is so, if it’s only a matter of money, the Sheridan campaign can find a way to match or better what you’re being paid. We could find a place for you on Colt’s staff. In exchange, we would naturally want to know which campaign is behind the mischief and the full extent of what has been disclosed. And of course we’ll need to know where Erika and Jorgen have gone.”

“Senator Keyes, I’m employed by the University of Hawaii and no one else. I don’t know where Valerie came up with this idea that I’m some kind of mole. I admit that I’ve been asked by my department head to determine whether the Svalbard Vault can be relied on to safeguard her seeds and keep them out of the hands of people who want to alter them, but that is all. If there’s a mole inside your campaign, it’s somebody else.” Dinah thought about Valerie’s backbiting and her conspicuous crush on Erika’s husband and her temper boiled over. “Frankly, I wouldn’t put it past Valerie herself to spoil the Sheridan show. You know what they say about a woman scorned. Maybe she arranged to have Erika spirited away by Maks Jorgen. Maybe her way of making herself seem essential to you and Mahler and Sheridan is to create moles and spies that only she can recognize.”

Keyes responded more in sadness than in anger. “I’ve known Valerie for years. She’s a scrupulous and loyal attorney, honest as the day is long. So is Colt. He doesn’t deserve to have his political future destroyed by something like this.”

“Erika is the one who needs to be persuaded, Senator Keyes. And for the last time, I have no idea where she’s disappeared to or how to get in touch with her.”

“I’m afraid it’s more than that. Inspector Ramberg searched Jorgen’s room this morning. He found a document that was stolen from Valerie’s files.”

Dinah studied his face. “You think I stole it?”

“Someone did and passed it on to Erika. Don’t misunderstand me, Dinah. This isn’t a threat. But you’re playing with fire. You’d better tell us what you know before it’s too late.”

Chapter Nineteen

Dinah blazed out of the dining room into the lobby looking for Thor. No such luck. The lobby was empty except for the man behind the front desk.

“Would you happen to know where Inspector Ramberg went or when he’ll be back?”

“He didn’t say. But he did leave a message for you, Ms. Pelerin.” He handed her an envelope with the Radisson logo.

She opened it and read, “
The murder is solved. Dinner
?”

He should be flogged for teasing her that way. What kind of document had he found in Jorgen’s room? At least, it didn’t sound as if he suspected her of stealing it. She tucked the note in her pocket. “When the inspector returns, would you tell him that Dinah Pelerin needs to speak with him urgently?”

“
Ja
, sure.”

“What is Valerie Ives’ room number?”

“Room three-thirty-eight, next door to the presidential suite.”

“Who’s in the presidential suite?”

“Mr. Mahler.”

Why did I have to ask, she thought.

“Shall I ring Ms. Ives’ room?”

“No, thanks. I’d rather surprise her.”

Dinah headed for the elevators. Honest as the day is long. What the hell did that mean in a place where it was always night? Something was rotten in the Kingdom of Norway. Valerie didn’t whisper with Mahler and keep Tillcorp’s wheeling and dealing a secret because she was honest, and Keyes’ talk about political dirty tricks sounded fishy as smoked eel. How better to garner sympathy for Sheridan than to spin Erika’s disappearance as a political plot by one of his rivals and “trump up a story” about a mole inside his campaign? That would be the ultimate dirty trick. She couldn’t see Erika’s former lover going along with the plot, but then it struck her that Sheridan could have hired somebody off the street to impersonate Maks. The impersonator could have lured Erika to his room, drugged her, and carted her off to a sanitarium where she could be held until after election day. Until Doomsday if it suited Sheridan’s or Valerie’s purposes.

The elevator doors opened on the second floor and Tipton stepped inside. As always, he was breathless from the weight and urgency of his mission. “It’s a political fiasco. I can see the headlines now.
Candidate’s Wife Goes Off Rocker, Runs Off With Rocker
.”

“Let’s hope that’s the true story.”

“What do you mean?” His cowlick sprouted from his crown like corn stubble and there was a downy growth on his chin. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night. He re-punched the button for the third floor.

“I’m not so sure she eloped with Jorgen. I’m on my way to Valerie’s room to get a few straight answers.”

“Jake’s looking for her, too. He’s called a meeting in his suite, but Valerie’s gone AWOL.” The elevator door opened on three and Tipton stepped out.

Dinah stepped out, too. “Any idea where she is?”

“The last time I saw her she was coming out of Colt’s room. She’s been trying to calm him down. He and the inspector got into quite a tiff this morning.”

“About what?”

“Oh, some document he found in Jorgen’s room, I think. Colt went ballistic and Val hustled him away all mother-hennish for a one-on-one. Jake says it’s bad.”

Dinah batted the elevator door, which kept trying to close. “Do you know what it is?”

“Only that it was something Valerie shouldn’t have let anyone see.” Tipton looked at his watch. “Jake wants Whitney at the meeting. I’ve been trying to get him on his cell. Have you seen him?”

“As a matter of fact, he and I have just had a serious talk.”

“Why would he want to talk with
you
?”

“My superior grasp of the situation. What else?”

He laughed. “You’re funny. It’s good to inject a little humor. When Whitney has finished his breakfast, he and I are going to strategize. If anyone can see a way through this mess, it’s Whitney.”

Dinah got back in the elevator and rode it down to the second floor. She rapped on Sheridan’s door and waited. “Senator Sheridan, it’s Dinah. I need to speak with you.” She rapped again. “It’s important.”

No answer.

“I’ve heard from Erika.”

The door opened. His face, haggard and unshaven, stared out at her like a defeated warrior feeling the flutter and rush of Valkyrie wings overhead. He looked like a man who knew already that he’d been singled out by Axe-Wielder and Wrecker-of-Plans. “Is she all right?”

His undeniable misery brought Dinah up short. He wasn’t acting. If there was a plot, he wasn’t in on it. “May I come in?”

He searched her eyes. “She didn’t call you.”

“No.”

He turned and walked back into the room. Dinah followed him. His suitcase was open on the bed. He went back to taking his clothes out of an open dresser drawer and folding them in the suitcase.

“What do you want?”

“I’d like her to call, Senator. I’d like to know that she’s all right, too.”

“It’s too late. Everything’s ruined now.”

“Why is it too late?”

“She thinks I killed that man. Eftevang.” He went to the mini-bar, pulled out a beer, and twisted off the cap. He expelled a bitter laugh. “Soon, everyone will think I killed him.”

Dinah glanced back at the door, which was still open. “Did you kill him?”

“No.”

“Why would Erika think that you did?”

“Haven’t you swapped the latest developments with your inspector friend this morning?”

“No.”

“He found a printout of an e-mail from me to Valerie telling her not to worry, that I’d be meeting with Eftevang and I’d make sure he didn’t give us any more trouble. I don’t think the inspector believed me when I said my account had been hacked.” The senator gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Who would?”

Dinah would and did. She couldn’t believe that anyone in his right mind, let alone a senator and a scholar, would write an e-mail announcing a murder he planned to commit. “Was this e-mail what the inspector found in Jorgen’s room?”

“Erika must have left it there, ‘though how she got hold of it is a mystery.” He took a drink of beer, set the bottle on the dresser, and continued his packing. “I don’t know if I’m packing for a return flight to the States and a perp walk across the Washington Mall or a stint in a Norwegian jail.”

“You didn’t write the e-mail? Not even as a joke?”

“No. It’s completely bogus.” He let out another bark of bitter laughter. “Maybe Val wrote the note to herself and gave it to Erika to turn her against me. Maybe Val wanted to punish me for not falling in love with her.”

So he did know that Val fancied him. Dinah could understand Valerie trying to get Erika out of the way by hook or by crook, but surely it defeated her purpose to frame Sheridan for murder. “Did Valerie have your password?”

“Probably.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean what I said about Val. She’s on my side no matter what. She showed me the damn e-mail as soon as she saw it. It must have been sent before the Internet went down and stayed in her inbox. She didn’t receive it until the morning of the vault tour and immediately suspected that I’d been hacked.”

Dinah could imagine the consternation that e-mail must have caused. No wonder Sheridan muffed his lines during the video.

He flumped into one of the armchairs in front of the window and hiked his cowboy boots up on the hassock. “Valerie and Tipton have been trying to figure out how the hacker got through our firewall. However it was done, and whatever the police make of it, it’ll go viral and my career will be water over the dam.”

“Did Erika know your password?”

“I don’t know. She may have. Maybe
she
wanted to punish me. Eftevang’s not the only death she blames me for.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t suppose it matters now that I’m out of the running and no longer have to lie my head off to get elected.” He took a long pull of beer and fell silent.

She prodded him. “What other death does she blame you for, Senator?”

“I asked her to terminate a pregnancy. We’d only been married a few months. I said I didn’t want the distraction of a newborn during my first big campaign. I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t want to share her with a baby. Anyhow, I sent her back to Norway to…” he made air quotes, “‘to visit her folks.’ My conservative constituents would never know that my right-to-life rhetoric was pure hypocrisy. Later, when Erika and I were ready to start a family, she couldn’t get pregnant.”

“Is the abortion what you were afraid Erika would talk about?”

“It was a risk. Since I moved us from Montana to Washington, she’s been lonely, more regretful and obsessive. She talked as if the child might actually exist.”

“Maybe she does, Senator. Did it ever occur to you that she didn’t go through with the abortion?”

His eyes widened. “Did she tell you…?”

“Colt!” Whitney Keyes stormed through the open door with his hand raised. “I advise you not to say anything more until you’ve spoken to Valerie. I advise you specifically not to say anything more to Dinah.”

Sheridan frowned and his eyes remained glued on Dinah.

“I’m not the mole,” she said. “How could I have hacked into your e-mail?”

“With Erika’s help,” said Keyes.

Sheridan’s face went slack and old, Asgard to Midgard in a split second. All it would take to drive him over the edge was another Valkyrie circling overhead. Nothing Dinah could say would help him now. She turned on her heels and left as Keyes began to lay out Valerie’s theory of Dinah’s treachery.

She took the elevator back to the third floor and banged on Valerie’s door. It was time she heard the theory from the horse’s mouth.

Mahler answered. “She’s not here.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“In hiding if she knows what’s good for her. She’s dropped a bomb on Sheridan, me, the whole damn enterprise.”

His emanation of menace took the steam out of Dinah’s anger. She took a step back. “How?”

“She’s succeeded in getting Sheridan accused of murder, that’s how. Not just any murder, but the murder of one of Tillcorp’s most vocal critics, which makes me look like a co-conspirator. She’s succeeded in setting back all our efforts, not just in Norway but all over the world. The media will be crawling over this like ants at a picnic. If you track her down, tell her she’s fired and she can find herself alternative transportation back to the States.” He ran a hand across his bald head and his eyes bulged with anger. “No. You tell her to stay in Norway. If I see her Judas face again on the other side of the Atlantic, I’ll wring her neck.”

Before he closed the door in her face, Dinah caught a glimpse of Lee and Rod. One of them was working at a laptop. The other was sorting through a stack of loose papers that had been strewn across Valerie’s bed.