The Face of Deception (16 page)

But you didnt stop me.

I cant. The clocks ticking. He paused. How long?

Twelve hours. Maybe a little longer. She wearily leaned back in the chair again. I dont know. As long as it takes. Dont nag me, dammit.

Right. He rose jerkily to his feet. Ill leave you alone to rest. Why dont you lie down on the couch? When do you want me to wake you?

I dont want to sleep. I just have to rest my eyes.

Then Ill come back later. He added as he moved toward the door, If you dont mind.

It doesnt matter. She closed her eyes again. Tell me, Logan, doesnt all this subservience and courtesy stick in your throat?

A little. But I can live with it. I learned a long time ago that if youre not the most important chip in a computer, you grease the wheels and dont get in the way.

I believe thats the worst mix of metaphors Ive heard.

How would you know? Your minds probably too blurry for you to think straight.

I dont have to think. From now on its pure in-stinct. I just have to be able to see.

I can feed you, but I cant help you there.

At this point, no one can help me.

The door closed behind him.

No one, she murmured. Its just between you and me, isnt it, Jimmy?

CHEVY CHASE

WEDNESDAY EVENING

11:45 P.M.

Hes nearly finished, Timwick, Fiske said. He said the job was easier than he thought. Maybe another twelve hours.

Have you seen the skull?

I cant make anything of it. It doesnt even have a nose or eyes yet. I think youre wasting your time.

Ill be the judge of that. Call me when hes done and Ill come right down.

Fiske replaced the receiver. Twelve more hours and hed know if Doprel or Logan and Duncan were the targets. He almost hoped it was Doprel. Logan and Duncan were more of a challenge, but Doprel was beginning to annoy him beyond belief.

BARRETT HOUSE

THURSDAY

6:45 A.M.

Smooth the clay.

Delicacy.

Sensitivity.

Let the tips of your fingers move of their own volition.

Dont think.

Help me, Jimmy.

The clay was cool, but her fingertips felt warm, almost hot, as they molded and smoothed.

Generic ears. She had no idea whether theyd stuck out or had longer lobes.

A longer, thinner nose.

Mouth?

Generic again. She knew the width but not the shape. She made the lips closed, without expression.

Eyes.

So important. So difficult. No measurements and very few scientific indicators. Okay, dont be in a rush. Study the shape and angle of the orbits. The size of eyeballs were all pretty much the same and grew only a little from infancy to adulthood. Should she make Jimmys eyes protruding, deep-set, or somewhere in between? The angle of the orbits and the bony ridge above would help her decide.

But not yet. Eyes were always a clincher. Most forensic sculptors worked from top to bottom and the eyes went in close to the beginning. She had never been able to do that. Shed found that she had an even greater tendency to hurry if the eyes were looking at her.

Bring me home.

More smoothing along the cheekbone. Not too deep.

Dont look at the face as a whole. Take each sec-tion and feature separately.

Smooth.

Fill in.

Slow down. You cant let go yet. Dont let your mind totally guide your hands. Dont visualize. Build. Measurements are still critical. Check them again.

Nose width, 32 mm. Okay.

Nose projection, 19 mm. Okay.

Lip height, 14 mm. No, it should be 12. Bring the top lip down, its usually thinner than the bottom lip.

Build up more around the mouth, theres a major muscle under there.

More shaping to the nostrils.

A little creasing on each side of the nose. How deep?

Whats the difference? Nobody ever identified anyone by a skin crease.

Deepen the area around the lower lip.

Why? It didnt matter. Do it.

Smooth.

Mold.

Fill in.

Sun lines around the eye cavities. Lines around the mouth.

She was working feverishly now. Her hands flew over Jimmys face.

Almost finished.

Who are you, Jimmy? Help me. Were almost done. Well take a photo and circulate it and someone will take you home.

Smooth.

Mold.

Stop. Dont gild the lily.

She stepped back and drew a deep breath. Shed done all she could do.

Except the eyes.

What color? Logan would probably prefer she use blue. Kennedys blue eyes were as famous as his smile. Screw Logan. This couldnt be Kennedy and why should she indulge Logan. She took another step back and allowed herself to look at the full face for the first time. She would use the brown she usually

Oh, my God.

She stood frozen, staring at the face shed created. She felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach.

No.

It was a lie.

She moved slowly, heavily, over to the table, where the small eye case lay open. The eyeballs glit-tered up at herblue, brown, gray, hazel, green.

She took the case and carried it to the pedestal.

She was exhausted; her mind could be playing tricks on her. The eyes would make a difference. Brown. Put in brown eyes.

Her hand was shaking as she took out the first brown eyeball and inserted it in the left cavity. Then she took the second eyeball and fitted it to the right.

Youve put in the wrong eyes, Logan said from the corner. You know it, Eve.

She stared straight into the brown eyes before her, her back rigid. I dont know it.

Put in the right eyes.

Its a mistake. I made a mistake somewhere along the way.

You dont allow yourself to make mistakes. Put in the eyes that you know belong with the face.

She took out the brown eyes and put them back in the case. She stood staring blindly down at the eyes in the case.

You know which ones to use, Eve.

All right. She reached down, picked up the eye-balls, and jammed them in the sockets.

Now step back and look at him.

She moved back from the pedestal. Incredible. God in heaven, it couldnt be true.

But there couldnt be any doubt.

You bastard. Her voice was shaking as she stared into the gray eyes. She was shaking. She felt as if the entire globe was trembling on its axis. Its Ben Chadbourne. Its the President.

CHEVY CHASE

Well? Doprel asked sourly. Is it your terrorist?

Timwick gazed at the skull. Youre sure this is a correct representation?

Im sure. May I go home now?

Yes, thank you for your hard work. Ill have you driven back to New York immediately. Naturally, youll keep this quiet. We wouldnt want a security leak.

Ive no desire to talk about this job. It hasnt been a highlight of my career. Ill go pack. Doprel strode out of the room.

Shall I take him back? Fiske asked from where he stood behind Timwick.

No. Timwick turned away from the bust. The skulls a ringer. Doprels not important anymore. Ill send him home with someone else. I have other work for you and well have to move fast. He moved toward the phone. Leave me alone. I have some phone calls to make.

He waited until Fiske was out the door before he punched in the secure line at the White House.

Its not him. Same age. Same general facial struc-ture. But its not him.

BARRETT HOUSE

You lied to me, Eve whispered. She whirled on Logan. You lied.

Yes. Its the last lie Ill tell you, Eve.

You expect me to believe that? Every way I turn I find out youve lied to me again. You never thought it was Kennedy. My God, you even put all those books and reports about him in your desk just to make me believe what you wanted me to believe. It was all some kind of wild red herring.

There wasnt anything wild about it. I worked very hard to make that lie plausible. I had to have a cover to hide the fact that I was having Donnellis claim investigated. Thats why I laid the false trail to Kennedy. So they couldnt be sure if I suspected something or I was just a crackpot. I had also begun a discreet search for a forensic sculptor, the one person who could reveal if theres any truth to Donnellis story.

Me.

Yes, you were the key player I needed.

Her gaze went back to Jimmys skull. No, not Jimmy anymore. Ben Chadbourne, President of the United States. She shook her head. Its all crazy. When you told me what had happened at Donnellis funeral home, I assumed it had taken place decades ago. Thats what you meant me to think.

Yes. It was only two years ago.

Lies.

You had to be entirely uninfluenced, with no preconceived ideas. That was the only way to guar-antee that you would reconstruct the face that be-longed on that skull. His gaze followed hers to Chadbournes face. It was something of a miracle watching you work, bringing him to life. I was almost sure it was him, but every touch seemed to

How did he die? Murder?

Probably. It would make sense.

And that man in the White House is one of his doubles?

He nodded.

She shook her head. Its too bizarre. It couldnt be pulled off with Chadbourne anymore than with Kennedy. The office is too public.

But they did it.

Timwick?

Hes the front man.

Fronting for who?

Chadbournes wife. She has to be the one pulling the strings. Shes the only one who has the power to protect any double and coach him.

Lisa Chadbourne. Eve remembered her at the press conference; she had stood on the sidelines, her gaze fixed lovingly on her husband. And shes sup-posed to be a murderer?

Maybe. We cant be sure until we find out what happened to Ben Chadbourne.

What motive could she possibly have?

I dont know. Ambition, possibly. Shes smart and savvy and knows how to manipulate a situation. She worked her way through law school and became a partner in a prestigious law firm. After she married Chadbourne she pushed him until he made it to the White House. Once there, she did everything right. He smiled sardonically. Shes the perfect first lady.

I dont believe it could be her.

I didnt think you would. I had a few problems believing it myself. Id met her a few times and I liked her. That combination of charm and intelligence can be very disarming.

Eve shook her head.

Im throwing too much at you. I wish I could let you have longer to absorb it all, but I cant. Were almost out of time. He stood up. All right, dont believe its Lisa Chadbourne. Believe someone else is behind it. But youll grant that she has to be in on any conspiracy for it to work?

Thatshellip; reasonable. She glanced back at the skull. But what if this isnt Chadbourne? What if this is the double?

Its Chadbourne.

Because you want it to be?

Because it is. Its the only thing that makes sense. He paused. Because it was James Timwick who delivered that body to Donnelli.

How can you be sure? Donnellis father could have lied.

Im sure he could have. He appears to have been pretty much of a scumball. But he wasnt a dumb scumball. He dealt with some pretty lethal characters and he had to protect himself. Hed equipped his crematorium with an audiotaping setup. He got Timwick on audiotape. He smiled crookedly. It was part of his legacy to his son and the bait that hooked me. Because of that tape, I had Gil check into the story.

If you had a tape that incriminating, you wouldnt need any more proof. You could take it to the authorities or the media and let them

He was shaking his head. It wasnt incrimi-nating enough. No detail. No Hey, Im James Timwick and Im burning up the President of the United States. It was just general conversation while they were in the crematorium. Timwick ordered one of his men to help him with the body. Once, he asked Donnelli for a chair so he could sit down. Evidently the poor man had a taxing evening and he was tired. Comments like that.

Then how do you know it was Timwick?

Id met him before. Hes director of the Secret Service and attended a good many of Chadbournes functions and he

Secret Service. You said he was high up in the Treasury Department. Her lips tightened. Oh, yes, the Secret Service is part of the Treasury Depart-ment. Just another little evasion.

Sorry. He continued. Timwick had a very dis-tinguished career and was a key player in getting Chadbourne elected. His voice is very distinctive. Hes from Massachusetts and the accent is pretty un-mistakable. I had a hunch it was him, and when Don-nelli Junior sent me the cassette, I ran some of the videotapes I made of Chadbourne on the campaign trail and did a comparison. It wasnt difficult. Timwick isnt a man who likes to stay in the background. I think he was disappointed Chadbourne didnt give him a cabinet post.