Shall We Tell the President? (5 page)

Calvert recounted exactly what had happened
from the moment they had arrived at Woodrow Wilson to the moment he had asked
the Metropolitan Police to put a guard on the room to protect the Greek. Mark
was impressed by Barry’s total recall. At no point had he exaggerated or
revealed any personal prejudice.
Stames
lowered his
head for a few moments and then suddenly turned to Mark.

‘Do you want to add anything?’ he asked.
^l
Not
really, sir. It was all a bit melodramatic.
Although he didn’t come over as a liar, he was certainly frightened. Also
there’s no trace of him in any of our files. I radioed the Night Super for a
name check. Negative on
Casefikis
.’

Nick picked up the phone and asked to be
put through to Bureau Headquarters. ‘Give me the
National
Computer
Information
Center
,
Polly.’ He was put straight through. A young woman answered the phone.

‘
Stames
,
Washington
Field Office. Would you please have the
following suspect checked out on the computer immediately? - Angelo
Casefikis
: Caucasian;
male; Greek ancestry; height, five feet nine inches; weight, about a
hundred and sixty-five pounds; hair, dark brown; eyes, brown; age, thirty-eight;
no distinguishing marks or scars known; no identifying numbers known.’ He was
reading from the report Calvert had placed in front of him. He waited silently.

‘If his story is true,’ Mark said, ‘we
should have no listing for him at all.’

‘If it’s true,’ said Calvert.

Stames
continued to wait. The days of waiting to find out who was in the
FBI files and who wasn’t had long gone. The girl came back on the line.

‘We have nothing on a
Casefikis
,
Angelo. We don’t even have a
Casefikis
. The best the
computer can offer is a
Casegikis
who was born in
1901. Sorry I can’t help, Mr
Stames
.’

‘Thanks very much.’
Stames
put the phone down. ‘Okay, boys, for the moment let’s give
Casefikis
the benefit of the doubt. Let’s assume he is telling the truth and that this is
a serious investigation. We have no trace of him in any of our files, so we’d
better start believing his story until it’s disproved; he just might! be on to
something, and if he is, then it goes way above me. Tomorrow morning, Barry, I
want you back at the hospital with a fingerprint expert; take his prints in
case he is giving a false name, put them through the identification computer
right away and make sure you get a full written statement, signed. Then check
the Met files for any shooting incidents on 24 February he could have been
involved in. As soon as we can get him out, I want him in an ambulance showing
us where that luncheon took place. Push the hospital into agreeing to that
tomorrow morning, if possible. To date, he’s not under arrest or wanted for any
crime we know about, so don’t go too far, not that he strikes me as a man who
would know much about his rights.

‘Mark,’
Stames
said, turning his head, ‘I want you to go back to the hospital immediately and
make sure the Met are there. If not, stay with
Casefikis
until they do arrive. In the morning, go round to the Golden Duck and check him
out. I’m going to make a provisional appointment for us to see the Director
tomorrow morning, at 10:00 am, which will give you enough time to report back to
me. And if, when we check the fingerprints through the identification computer,
nothing comes up at all, and the hotel and the restaurant exist, we may be in a
whole heap of trouble. If that’s the case, I’m not taking it one inch further
without the Director knowing. For the moment, I want nothing in writing. Don’t
hand in your official memorandum until tomorrow morning. Above all, don’t
mention that a senator could be involved to anybody - and that includes Grant
Nanna
. It’s possible tomorrow, after we have seen the
Director, that we will do no more than make a full report and hand the whole
thing over to the Secret Service. Don’t forget the clear division of
responsibility - the Secret Service guards the President, we cover federal
crime. If a senator is involved, it’s us; if the President’s involved, it’s
them. We’ll let the Director decide the finer points - I’m not getting involved
in Capitol Hill, that’s the Director’s baby, and with only seven days to play
with, we don’t have time to sit and discuss the academic niceties.’

Stames
picked up the red phone which put him straight through to the
Director’s office.

‘Nick
Stames
,
WFO.’

‘Good evening,’ said a low, quiet voice.
Mrs McGregor, a dedicated servant of the Director of the Federal Bureau of
Investigation, was still on duty. It was said that even
Hoover
had been slightly frightened of her.

‘Mrs McGregor, I’d like to make a
provisional appointment for myself and Special Agents
Galvert
and
Andrews to see the
Director for fifteen minutes, if that’s possible. Anytime between 9:00 am and
11:00am tomorrow. It’s likely that after further investigation tonight and
early tomorrow, I won’t need to bother him.’

Mrs McGregor consulted the Director’s desk
diary. ‘The Director is going to a meeting of police chiefs at eleven but he is
expected in the office at 8:30 and he has nothing marked in his diary before
eleven. I’ll pencil you in for 10:30, Mr
Stames
. Do
you want me to tell the Director what the subject of your discussion will be?’

‘I’d prefer not to.’

Mrs McGregor never pressed or asked a
second question. She knew if
Stames
called, it was
important. He saw the Director ten times a year on a social basis, but only
three or four times a year on a professional basis, and he was not in the habit
of wasting the Director’s time.

‘Thank you, Mr
Stames
.
Ten thirty tomorrow morning, unless you cancel beforehand.’

Nick put the phone down and looked at his
two men.

‘Okay, we’re fixed to see the Director at
10:30. Barry, why don’t you give me a lift home, then you can take yourself off
afterwards, and pick me up again first thing in the morning. That’ll give us
another chance to go over the details again.’ Barry nodded.

‘Mark, you get straight back to the
hospital.’

Mark had allowed his mind to slip away to
visualise Elizabeth Dexter walking down the corridor of Woodrow Wilson towards
him, red silk collar over the white medical coat, black skirt swinging. He was
doing this with his eyes open and the result was quite pleasant. He smiled.

‘Andrews, what the hell is so amusing about
a reported threat on the President’s life?’
Stames
demanded.
^l
Sorry
, sir. You just shot my
social life down in flames. Would it be okay if I use my own car? I was hoping
to go directly from the hospital to dinner.’

‘Yes, that’s fine. We’ll use the duty car
and see you first thing in the morning. Get your tail in gear, Mark, and hope
the Met makes it before breakfast.’

Mark looked at his watch. ‘Christ, it’s
already 8:00 pm.
’

Mark left the office slightly annoyed. Even
if the Met were there when he arrived, he would still be late for Elizabeth
Dexter. Still, he could always call her from the hospital.

‘Like a plate of warmed-up
moussaka
, Barry, and a bottle of
retsina
?
^’

‘It was more than I was expecting, boss.’

The two men left the office.
Stames
mentally checked off the items on his nightly
routine.

‘Barry, will you double-check that Aspirin
is on duty, as you go out, and tell him we won’t be back again tonight.’

Calvert made a detour to the Criminal Room and
delivered the message to Aspirin. He was doing the crossword from
The
Washington
Star.
He
had finished three clues; it was going to be a long night. Barry caught up with
Nick
Stames
as he stepped into the blue Ford.

‘Yes, boss, he’s working away.’

They looked at each other, a night of
headaches. Barry got in the driver’s seat, slid it back as far as it would go,
and adjusted the seat belt. They moved quietly up
Constitution Avenue
, then past the White
House on to the E Street Expressway, and on towards
Memorial
Bridge
.

‘If
Casefikis
is
on to something, we’ve got one hell of a week ahead of us,’ said Nick
Stames
. ‘Did he seem sure of the date for the assassination
attempt?’

‘When I questioned him a second time about
the details, he repeated 10 March, in
Washington
.’

‘Hum-uh
_?
seven days, not very
long. Wonder what the Director will make of it,’ said
Stames
.

‘Hand it over to the Secret Police, if he’s
got any sense,’ Barry said.

‘Ah, let’s forget it for the moment. Let’s
concentrate on warmed-over
moussaka
and deal with
tomorrow when tomorrow comes.’

The car came to a halt at a traffic light,
just beyond the White House, where a bearded, long-haired, dirty youth, who had
been picketing the home of the President, stood with a large poster advising
the world: BEWARE THE
END IS NIGH
.
Stames
glanced at it and nodded to Barry.

‘That’s all we need tonight.’

They passed under
Virginia Avenue
on the Expressway and
sped across
Memorial
Bridge
. A black 3.5
Lincoln
passed them at
about seventy miles an hour.

‘Bet the Met pick him up,’ said
Stames
.

‘Probably late for
Dulles
Airport
,’
replied Barry.

The traffic was light, the rush-hour well
behind them and when they turned on to
George Washington Parkway
, they managed
to stay in top gear. The Parkway, which follows the Potomac along the wooded
Virginia
shore, was dark
and winding. Barry’s reflexes were as fast as any man’s in the service and
Stames
, although older, saw exactly what happened at the
same time. A Buick, large and black, started to overtake them on their left. Calvert
glanced towards it and when he looked forward again an instant later, another
car, a black
Lincoln
,
had swung in front of them on the wrong side of the highway. He thought he
heard a rifle shot. Barry wrenched the wheel towards the centre of the road but
it didn’t respond. Both cars hit him at once, but he still managed to take one
of them with him down the rocky slope. They gathered speed until they hit the
surface of the river with a thud. Nick thought as he struggled in vain to open
the door that the sinking seemed grotesquely slow, but inevitable.

The black Buick continued down the highway
as if nothing had happened; past a car skidding to a halt, carrying a young
couple, two terrified witnesses to the accident. They leapt out of their car
and ran to the edge of the slope. There was nothing they could do but watch
helplessly for the few seconds it took the blue Ford sedan and the
Lincoln
to sink out of
sight.

‘
Jee
-sus, did you
see what happened ahead?’ said the young man.

‘Not really. I just saw the two cars go
over the top. What do we do now, Jim?’

‘Get the police fast.’

Man and wife ran back to their car.