Removal (19 page)

* * *

‘Did you see it?’ Linda Samuels asked, when Kelly Smith eventually answered her phone.

‘Yes, I did,’ Kelly replied.

She reached over from where she lay on her sofa, and grabbed the remote. Pointing directly at the screen, she muted the dialogue of a British murder mystery which had just started on Public Television.

‘What is with this guy?’ she asked. ‘Does he really think anyone believes him?’

Linda did not respond immediately.

‘Is Jeff with you?’ she asked eventually.

‘No, he pulled duty tonight, a stake-out. Why?’

‘I just wondered if we could talk for a while.’

‘Well, of course. Why wouldn’t we be able to talk?’

Linda hesitated. ‘I don’t want to get in the way.’

Kelly sat up.

‘What kind of crap is that, Linda? Since when have men ever stopped us talking?’

‘They haven’t,’ Linda admitted. ‘It’s just that this one is obviously special, and…’

‘Yes, he is,’ Kelly said. ‘And so are you. Talk.’

Kelly heard her friend take a deep breath.

‘Look, I probably shouldn’t be asking you this. I don’t mean to stick my nose in where it’s not wanted. But are you guys still working on the Benoni-Marfrela thing?’

‘Technically, yes. Since the results of the DNA tests came in, the Benoni case is more or less closed. There’s no question it was Marfrela. The Marfrela case is open, but there’s nothing we can do on it for now. Our only suspect is holed up in a compound, and there’s no way we’re going in to get him.’

Linda hesitated again. ‘I’m scared, Kelly.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m a witness. I know what was going on. I know the President was having sex with Lucia Benoni.’

‘Everybody knows that.’

‘Yes, but I was actually there. Well, right outside the door, anyway.’

‘So what? It will all blow over, Linda. Lucia wasn’t the first, and she won’t be the last. It’s not your fault the President screws around.’

There was a silence.

‘Kelly, haven’t you ever been afraid without knowing why?’

‘Sure,’ Kelly admitted.

‘Well, that’s how I’m feeling.’

‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘Don’t let my death go unavenged.’

Kelly laughed, but stopped abruptly. ‘That was a joke, right?’ she asked quietly.

‘Yeah, I guess. But I just have the strangest feeling about it.’

‘Linda, has something happened? Have you been threatened? Because, if so, I can get Lazenby involved. We can protect you.’

‘No, Kelly. Nothing’s happened. It’s just inside my head.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, if it ever does…’

‘You’ll be the first to know.’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

‘So what else is going on?’

‘Well… guess who I saw last night?’

‘Tell me.’

‘Bob.’

‘Really?’ Kelly said, smiling. ‘What’s the deal with him?’

‘He called me up and said he wanted to meet. So we had dinner, and he told me that he wants us to think about getting back together.’

‘I’ve seen this movie before, Linda,’ Kelly said, not unkindly. ‘What about the bimbo?’

‘He says she’s history. He really misses what we had together.’

Kelly shook her head. ‘Yeah? And you let him stay the night, right?’

‘Yes…’

‘Linda…’

‘I can’t help it, Kelly. I want it to turn out right. What else could I do?’

‘I don’t know. I just don’t think you can trust him.’

‘When we’re apart, I think that too. But, when we’re together, he seems so sincere.’

‘Oh, brother,’ Kelly said. ‘What are you planning?’

‘Nothing definite. We’re going to see each other again, take it one step at a time, see how it goes. Am I being stupid?’

‘Would you listen if I told you?’

‘No.’

‘All right, then. Are we still on for Friday?’

‘Yes. I’ll pick you up at seven. Say’ Hi’ to Jeff for me. Love you.’

‘Love you.’

Kelly hung up and watched the silent television screen for some time. She left it on ‘mute’ and called Jeff Morris’s answering machine.

‘Jeff, it’s me. Listen, when you get this message, would you check with your department and see whether there’s been anything new on Benoni and Marfrela? I’m interested in whether anyone has been asking questions, or trying to open the thing up again. Let’s keep it between the two of us. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Good night.’

M
ARY
S
ULLIVAN
THOUGHT
her desk might actually collapse under the mountain of paper Irene had left on it in response to her request. Irene was interning at
The Washington Post
during her senior year as a journalism major at George Washington University and, like all interns, she tended to get carried away with assignments given to her by celebrated reporters such as Mary Sullivan. When she returned to her office to find the results of Irene’s search, Mary experienced a moment of irritation at the student’s apparent lack of familiarity with the concept of relevance. But, remembering her own days as an intern, she had realized that Irene had made a sincere effort to impress her, and that much of the volume of paper was attributable to the wonders of electronic research.

Mary had asked for any details Irene could find about reports recently released by both political parties dealing with the major contributors to their campaigns. She read these reports carefully every year, not so much for the financial information, as for signs of shifting alignments among the major corporate donors. Over the years, these signs had enabled her to make some almost uncanny predictions about shifts in the balance of power. It was one of the things which had contributed most to her reputation as an observer of the Washington political scene.

Mary was now in her second day of ploughing through the morass of paper. She had tried to contact Selvey who, sometimes to her annoyance, often had insights which suggested access to materials she did not have. But Selvey was going through one of his irritating periods of not returning her calls. He could simply disappear from the radar screen for days or weeks on end, re-emerging when he saw fit. As there was nothing she could do about this, Mary resigned herself to working alone. One name she had found the day before was troubling her. It was one she did not know, which was unusual. She was familiar with all the older-established contributors, and the new ones usually showed up in news stories long before they became major players. But this one was an exception, and Irene’s research had shed little light on it. The day before, Mary had filed the name away in her mind and moved on. It was probably of no real importance. The amount contributed was large, but no more than average in this list of major donors, and it probably meant nothing. But, for some reason, the name would not let her go, and on the second day, she returned to it.

The Western States Geophysical Research Institute was a not-for-profit organization based in Portland, Oregon, which advertised that it researched and wrote position papers for groups or individuals interested in the impact of industries such as mining and logging on the environment. These people probably took an anti-Government position on environmental issues. Why were they making such a large contribution to the President’s party? Had someone promised something in return? Mary made herself a list of the senators and congressmen from the western States. There was no one she thought would have enough influence to make promises worth such a large contribution.

Who were these people? Mary played with her computer for a while and found a list of contributors to The Western States Geophysical Research Institute itself. The list was composed mainly of individuals whose names were unfamiliar to her. One of the few corporations listed was called Middle and Near East Holdings, Incorporated. That made sense. It sounded like an outfit which might have oil and gas interests. She turned to her computer again and soon printed out the company’s corporate address in Wilmington, Delaware, and the names of the directors. Another reference source turned up a list of three branch offices, one of them in Washington D.C., North West. A bell rang in Mary’s mind. She stared at the page blankly for some time, and then suddenly remembered.

‘Jesus Christ,’ she breathed softly.

For some time, she sat gazing out of her window, lost in thought. Then she picked up her phone, and dialed the number of an old friend who worked for one of the District’s biggest real estate firms.

‘Ruthie, it’s Mary. How’s the diet going?’

‘Don’t ask, Sweetie. You take off five pounds and put six back on. Go figure.’

‘You don’t need to be on a diet. You never did. I don’t know why you do it.’

‘You should look in my bedroom mirror some time. What’s up?’

Mary bit her lip.

‘Ruthie, could you do me a favor?’

‘For you? Anything. What do you need?’

‘I’m trying to track down a company called Middle and Near East Holdings, Incorporated. They have an address in North West, an apartment actually, and I’m interested in finding out the name on the lease. I know it’s supposed to be confidential, but…’

‘Baloney,’ Ruthie said. ‘What’s the address?’

Mary told her.

‘Hold a minute. Let me see if I have anything.’

Two minutes went by. When Ruthie spoke again, Mary could sense the smile on the other end of the line.

‘You’re in luck, Mary. It’s one of ours. The named lessee is a guy called El-Rashid.’

‘El-Rashid? Are you sure?’

‘I’m looking right at it.’

‘Damn,’ Mary whispered to herself.

She thought for a moment.

‘Is there any way to know whether he is the original lessee, or whether someone else may have been on the lease before?’

‘Sure. Hold a moment. Yes, come to mention it, El-Rashid was substituted recently. The original guy who took the lease from us was called Marfrela, first name Hamid. You need me to spell that?’

‘No, that’s OK.’

‘According to the file, this guy Marfrela died, and the El-Rashid guy took over from him. That’s all I know. Does it help?’

Mary sat back happily in her chair.

‘Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Ruthie, you just earned lunch at the venue of your choice.’

‘Yeah, right, it will have to be the salad bar.’

Mary laughed.

‘Whatever. You’re a pal, Ruthie. Take care.’

‘You too, Sweetie.’

Mary dialed a number on the intercom.

‘Irene?’

‘Oh, hi, Ms. Sullivan,’ the intern said nervously. ‘Was the work I did for you OK?’

‘Irene, do you get a grade for your internship at George Washington?’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’

‘Well, so far, I would say you’re looking at an ‘A’. Would you like to go for the ‘plus’?’

Mary could feel the young woman’s pleasure on the other end of the line.

‘Yes, Ma’am. I sure would. What do you need?’

‘I want you to run down a guy by the name of Hamid Marfrela. Come by my office and I’ll give you everything I’ve got on him.’

‘I’ll be right there. What do you need to know about him?’

‘Let’s start with everything his own mother knows,’ Mary said. ‘And we’ll take it from there.’

Soon after Irene had practically hopped, skipped and jumped from Mary’s office to start her new research project, Selvey called. Without any explanation of his failure to return her calls earlier, he instructed Mary in his usual peremptory way to meet him in his favorite dive in a bad part of town. Mary felt her temperature rising as she listened to him. As usual, Selvey was irritating her. But he seemed to sense that fact over the phone, because just as she was beginning an indignant protest, he interrupted her as brusquely as ever.

‘Miss Sullivan, you really don’t want to miss this one,’ he said, with a suggestion of laughter in his voice. ‘Trust me, you really do not want to miss this.’

With that, Selvey hung up. Tightening her lips and suppressing a desire to scream, Mary Sullivan picked up her purse and a yellow pad and made her way to her car.

* * *

‘You don’t think Linda’s actually been threatened?’ Jeff asked.

He was helping Kelly to wash up after a late supper in her apartment.

‘No. I don’t think so. But I worry about her anyway. She’s under so much pressure.’

‘Not helped by her asshole ex-husband.’

‘Right. I feel so helpless with her sometimes.’

Jeff put the last plate back in the cupboard, closed it, turned and took Kelly in his arms.

‘All you can do is spend time with her, which you do. I think she’ll tell you if anything happens.’

‘I hope so.’

He looked at his watch. ‘It’s getting late.’

He kissed her. Their eyes met and she knew the time had come.

‘Jeff, you know you don’t have to go.’

He pulled her gently into an embrace. They did not speak for some time.

‘I haven’t wanted to the last few times I’ve been here. I just wasn’t sure…’

She kissed his cheek.

‘I wanted it to be your decision.’

‘I’d love to stay.’

She took his hand and led him into the bedroom. They sat together on the bed.

‘There’s just one thing,’ Kelly said. ‘I get nightmares sometimes. I want to tell you now, because I don’t want you getting scared later if I wake up screaming.’

He nodded. ‘New York?’

‘Yes. Frank could never stand it,’ she said. ‘I think it’s one of the reasons he went away so much.’

Jeff lay on his back, and gently arranged her on top of him with her head on his chest.

‘I can deal with it,’ he said. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

She shook her head, stroked him with her fingers.

‘It can wait. I just wanted you to know. In case we fall asleep later and I forget.’

Much later, naked and at peace, they pulled the sheet and blanket up to cover them, and settled down, intertwined.

‘We were investigating rackets two of the Mob Families were running out of the Bronx,’ she said. ‘They had this crappy factory as a front. It was supposedly making cheap dresses, but it was a place they used to store stolen goods, drugs, dirty money, God only knows what. I went in under cover as a clerk. I stayed too long. My cover was blown. I had to try to shoot my way out. Two of my support team, two agents called Joe Grant and Tina Mickelson, happened to be in the area, and picked up my distress call. They showed up in an unmarked car. The bad guys trapped us in a kind of storage area near the main gate, crates and boxes and all kinds of crap everywhere. We took cover, and there was a shoot-out. Joe had a radio, and he managed to call for back-up. But he exposed himself and took one in the head. Tina and I kept shooting, but we were outnumbered and outgunned. It was only a matter of time. Then they got Tina. She took three bullets, but they didn’t kill her right away. She was lying by my side, crying, asking for her mother. She…’