Removal (9 page)

She poured coffee for Linda and herself.

‘Linda, I have to ask you to promise that you will keep what you’re about to see to yourself for a day or two.’

‘Can I do that?’

‘Yes. I don’t think it will embarrass you. It’s only for a couple of days, anyway.’

‘Now I’m really intrigued,’ Linda said, sipping her coffee.

Jeff returned a minute or two later with the White House pass in its plastic evidence bag. The bag now had several identifying labels attached to it, signed by Morris and other officers who had handled it in connection with the various forensic tests which had been carried out on the pass. Kelly noted with appreciation that the D.C. Police Department was going strictly by the book. There was a label to account for every time the pass had been removed from, or returned to, the evidence room. Every minute of the exhibit’s time was going to be strictly accounted for. When they had finished showing it to Linda, another label would be attached to the bag. Yet, even though all the handling was necessary and unavoidable, the thought that the pass was being exposed so much worried her. Every exposure was a potential leak, and a leak was the last thing they needed. She removed the pass from the bag and handed it to Linda.

‘Do you know what this is?’

‘Yes, it’s…’.

As she took in the photograph and the name on the pass, Linda stopped abruptly. She turned pale, and sat down heavily in a chair.

‘Where did you get this?’

‘In a moment, Linda. I promise I’ll tell you. But I need an answer first. Do you know what it is?’

‘It’s a special White House pass.’

‘What do you mean ‘special’?’ Jeff Morris asked.

Linda’s breathing was audible.

‘Can I have some water?’

‘Of course.’

A jug of iced water and some plastic cups had been left next to the coffee. Jeff poured a cup and Linda drank it slowly.

‘No one gets into the White House without some kind of pass. There’s a garden variety pass which is issued to employees and frequent business visitors, press people, congressional aides and what have you. Then you have occasional visitors, people who show up from time to time, but not that often. Mostly, they get a day pass. I don’t mean the public, obviously, people taking the tour. I mean people who have some business in the White House and need to get into the non-public areas. But for certain people, who are thought to be important for one reason or another, they can issue one of these. We call them S-passes. It’s a kind of VIP thing.’

‘When you say ‘they’ can issue them, who do you mean by ‘they’?’ Kelly asked.

‘The White House staff would actually issue them.’

‘Well, yes,’ Jeff said, ‘but not on their own initiative, right?’

‘No.’

‘Well, then…?’

Linda grimaced.

‘Something like this would be issued only at the specific request of someone at Cabinet or Department Head level.’

‘Does the Secret Service run any security checks before one of these S-passes is issued?’

‘Yes, of course. Always. We do it quietly, because we don’t want to offend whoever has requested it. It doesn’t happen very often. We try to discourage it.’

‘Why?’

‘For security reasons. Because the holder of the pass can pretty much walk in any time, and we have no paperwork beforehand. That kind of thing makes the Detail nervous.’

‘Have you ever seen this particular pass before?’ Kelly asked.

Linda looked at Kelly, then at Jeff Morris.

‘Look, I…, I don’t know…’

Kelly moved closer to Linda.

‘Linda, anything you say here will be treated as confidential. But you may as well know that it’s all going to be out in the open before very long. You asked where we got this. Jeff found it in Lucia Benoni’s purse, not far from her body.’

Linda looked up in horror. Her voice was almost inaudible.

‘What?’

‘She was murdered. Execution style. Bullet in the back of the head. Probably by some guy she was sleeping with.’

Linda looked from Kelly Smith to Jeff Morris and back again in disbelief.

‘This was the case that was in the papers, the woman whose identity hasn’t been confirmed?’

‘Yes,’ Kelly said. ‘But I’m afraid the reports are not quite accurate. We do know her identity, and eventually it’s all going to be out there. All we did was buy a little time. My Director felt it was important that we find out what Lucia Benoni was doing with an S-pass before we go public with it. We thought it might even be a forgery.’

Linda stared at the pass for some time.

‘No. It’s not a forgery.’

‘Do you need to scan it to be sure?’

Linda shook her head.

‘You’ve seen it before?’

‘Many times.’

‘From which I take it she was a fairly regular visitor to the White House?’

‘Yes.’

‘Would there be any record of her visits?’ Morris asked.

‘Every one. Date, time, and place.’

Kelly bit her lip and turned away slightly.

‘Linda, this is the woman you were telling me about the other night, isn’t it? The one who was with him in Chicago?’

‘Yes.’

‘So, this pass would have been issued…’

‘At the request of the President, yes.’

Abruptly, Linda Samuels stood and looked Kelly straight in the face. ‘Kelly, how could your people do this?’

Kelly was taken aback by her vehemence.

‘Do what, Linda? What are you talking about?’

‘Set the President up like this.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘God damn it, Kelly, you know what I mean.’

‘No, Linda,’ Kelly replied with complete sincerity. ‘I really don’t.’

‘You’ve known about this ever since the Benoni woman’s body was found, and you let the President go into that news conference this morning and deny knowing her? And now the whole world will know he issued her an S-pass. For God’s sake.’

Linda was almost shouting. Kelly put her arms on her shoulders and pushed her gently back into the chair.

‘Linda, the Bureau has no control over what the President says at press conferences.’

‘But if he had known she was dead…’

‘Then what? He would have told the truth? Look, Linda, for whatever reason, the President chose to lie about knowing her. What difference does it make whether she’s dead or alive? You just said there were records of her visits anyway. How long do you think it’s going to take the press to find that out? They’ll probably know before we tell them.’

Linda slumped in her seat, her head between her hands.

‘Anyway,’ Kelly added, ‘Don’t tell me you’re suddenly starting to sympathize with him?’

‘It’s not a matter of sympathy,’ Linda said quietly. ‘It’s a question of duty. My job is to protect the President.’

‘From bullets, yes,’ Kelly said. ‘But from the consequences of his own actions? I don’t think so, Linda.’

Linda stood and began to walk towards the door.

‘I’ll talk to you later,’ she said.

With a glance at Jeff Morris, Kelly followed Linda out of the conference room and along the corridor, and waited with her for an elevator.

‘I was going to take you home.’

‘It’s OK. I’ll take a cab. Lieutenant Morris said he had more information for you. I’m done in. I need to get out of here.’

‘Don’t be silly. I’ll be two minutes.’

Linda made no reply. Kelly pulled her unwillingly into a hug.

‘You mad at me?’

‘No. Yes. I don’t know. I feel as though I’ve been hit over the head with a sledge hammer. I need time to think.’

‘Well, call me.’

‘I will.’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

As the elevator doors were closing, Linda stopped them with her hands.

‘He’s cute.’

‘Who is?’ Kelly asked.

‘Lieutenant Morris.’

Kelly smiled.

‘You interested?’

‘Me? No.’

The door closed and the elevator carried Linda down to the foyer.

K
ELLY
WALKED
SLOWLY
back to the conference room. Jeff Morris was not there and, having helped herself to a cup of lukewarm coffee, she sat down and absent-mindedly contemplated the bare walls. The tiredness of a long day began to overtake her. A few minutes later, Jeff returned carrying some papers. Kelly stood.

‘So, is that the information on the infamous Middle and Near East Holdings?’

He looked at her inquiringly.

‘Is Linda OK?’

‘I think so.’

‘She seemed pretty upset.’

‘She takes her job very seriously.’

‘My boss, right or wrong?’

‘Something like that.’

‘How about you?’

Kelly forced herself to drain the last of her coffee, and tossed the empty plastic cup into the waste paper basket.

‘What?’

‘How are you doing?’

‘Me? Oh, I’m fine,’ she replied, a little too quickly. ‘So, that’s the info on Middle and Near East?’

Jeff looked at her closely for a moment or two.

‘You want to get out of here?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You look like you’ve had a hard day. Me too. I’ve been here since seven-thirty this morning, and all I had to eat was a sandwich from the café downstairs. If I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to pass out. There’s a little Italian place around the corner. It’s not bad. We go there all the time. What do you think?’

Even the idea made Kelly feel better. She decided at once.

‘Sure. Why not? If you think the sandwiches here are bad, you should try the grilled cheese
à la
FBI some time.’

They sat at a table for two near a window, and idly scanned the menu while the waiter poured glasses of Chianti from a carafe. The restaurant was full of Italian kitsch, the walls adorned with amateur murals depicting bucolic scenes from the Old Country. The accents of the waiters were authentic. It was a slow evening, with only a handful of other diners. Kelly found the quiet atmosphere and the subdued lighting calming and reassuring.

‘The fettucini carbonara is to die for,’ Jeff said from behind his menu.

‘The heart attack special?’ Kelly smiled. ‘I don’t think so. You go ahead. I think I’ll go with the primavera.’

They placed the orders, and the waiter disappeared into the kitchen. Jeff seemed in no hurry to get to the subject of the Middle and Near East Holdings Company. He seemed content to sip his wine in silence for a while. To her surprise, Kelly found the silence quite comfortable.

‘How long have you known Linda?’ Jeff asked eventually.

‘All my life. We’ve been best friends since almost before we could read.’

‘Are you from around here?’

‘No. St. Paul, Minnesota. Linda and I both grew up there. We went away to Notre Dame for college, but other than that we lived our whole lives there until it was time to find real jobs. My parents are both attorneys.’

‘Both of them? You seem to have survived it pretty well.’

‘I guess. I might not have, if I had followed in their footsteps. I did go to law school. That was the plan.’

‘Their plan, or yours?’

‘Theirs, really. I don’t regret law school, but I don’t think I would have made it practicing law.’

‘But you had no family ties to law enforcement?’

‘No. The Bureau was all my own idea. Actually, my folks were really good about it. They never gave me a hard time. How about you?’

Jeff re-filled their wine glasses.

‘I’m from San Francisco,’ he answered.

‘No kidding?’ Kelly smiled. ‘I love San Francisco. I didn’t think anyone was actually
from
there, though.’

‘Oh, yeah. Born and raised. My dad was a patrol officer with SFPD all his life, never cared to become anything else. He’s retired now. He and my mother live up in Marin County. He never suggested I should become a police officer. I think he probably wanted a different life for me, but he never said anything. I guess he thought I should figure it out for myself.’

‘So, with your family connections, why aren’t you with SFPD?’

‘My mom insisted I go to college before making a decision. I came out here to George Washington, made a lot of friends, and never went back. Actually, it would have been hard in San Francisco. Everybody knew my dad. I would have spent my entire life trying to live up to his reputation.’

‘I hear that,’ Kelly replied.

There was a silence.

‘Do you have a husband to wonder where you are?’ Jeff asked eventually.

‘No. I have a boyfriend, and I don’t suppose he’s given one thought to where I am.’

Jeff looked embarrassed.

‘I’m sorry, Kelly. I didn’t mean to pry. Let’s change the subject.’

Kelly shook her head.

‘No. It’s all right. I’m not sensitive about it. I bore Linda to death with it all the time. It’s not exactly an unusual situation. Like many men, he thinks that he’s the only one with a serious job, and what I do is basically a hobby to tide me over until I get married and start to reproduce.’

Jeff laughed. ‘Being an FBI agent as a hobby? That’s something that would never have occurred to me.’

‘Me neither.’

‘What does he do, for Heaven’s sake?’

‘He’s Senator O’Brien’s chief of staff. Very glamorous. He travels around all the time and meets all kinds of movers and shakers.’

‘And he says you’re the one with the hobby?’

Kelly was lost in thought for some moments.

‘It doesn’t really matter. I can’t see it lasting much longer.’

Jeff topped up their glasses.

‘Do you want it to?’

Kelly considered.

‘That’s a good question. Until a few months ago, yes, absolutely, no doubt about it. But I’m not sure any more. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not going to give up my career for him, or anyone else. I have a feeling that’s going to end it one way or the other, whether I want it to end or not.’

They exchanged smiles. She drank some of her wine.

‘So, how about you? Is there a Mrs. Morris at home watching the clock?’

Jeff looked down at the table cloth. The waiter brought their salads, and Jeff waited for him to leave.

‘No. Not any more.’

‘Did she get tired of the long hours?’

Kelly started on her salad, but Jeff remained looking down.

‘She had breast cancer. She was twenty-seven. Can you believe it?’