The Scorpio Illusion (46 page)

“I have promising if unconfirmed news for you, Countess. My colleague in the Senate has tentatively set a meeting with the President in three days. Of course, it will be pursuant to our understanding—”

“Naturalmente
!” interrupted the Baj. “The
barone
will be so pleased, and you will not be forgotten, Senator, believe me.”

“That’s most kind of you.… Your appearance will be off the books, that is, not listed on the President’s schedule. There’ll be only one photographer, approved by the White House Chief of Staff, and you will sign a release specifically stating that the photo session is for personal use and not for the press, either here or abroad. Extreme personal embarrassment would follow if the release is violated.”

“Completely private!” Bajaratt agreed. “You have the word of a great Italian family.”

“And that’s completely acceptable,” said Nesbitt, his
tone of voice lighthearted, allowing a chuckle. “However, should the baron’s financial interests prove politically favorable, especially in regionally depressed areas, I guarantee that the Chief of Staff will have the photo of the President and the baron’s son published all over the place. To counter that conceivable eventuality, my colleague from Michigan and I will have separate photographs taken flanking your nephew—
without
the President.”

“How interesting,” observed the Baj, laughing softly.

“You don’t know the Chief of Staff,” said Nesbitt. “If that Oval Office picture has mileage, no one else climbs on the trolley.… Where may I call you? The hotel said it was taking your messages—”

“We’re traveling so much, you see.” The Baj, sensing a problem, broke in quickly. “I trust one day soon we’ll be going to your state of Michigan, but everything is happening so rapidly. Dante Paolo has the energy of six young bulls.”

“It’s none of my business, Countess, but I’d think it would be far easier on you, and perhaps more efficient, if you had an office and a staff—at least a secretary who knew where to find you. I’m sure through the baron’s many friends here, dozens would be available to you. And I certainly could help you there, perhaps my own office.”

“The answer to our prayers, but, alas, it cannot be. My brother is above reproach in all things, but he prizes confidentiality as thoroughly as he does ethics, no doubt because there are so many unethical men in world finance. The staff and the secretaries are in Ravello, nowhere else. We call every day, frequently twice or three times. They’ve been with him for years.”

“He’s a cautious fella,” said the senator, “and damned right to be so. The BCCI fiasco, along with Watergate and Iran-contra, has taught us all that. I just hope your telephones are secure.”

“We travel with point-of-origin scramblers calibrated
to reception frequencies, signore. What could be more secure?”

“My, that
is
sophisticated. The Defense Department tells us that terrorists have homed in on that technology. Pretty damned impressive.”

“We would know nothing about such people, Senator, but for us it provides a measure of safety.… I will, of course, check with the hotel’s concierge every hour or so.”

“Please do, Countess. In the Washington circus, three days could become tomorrow or yesterday.”

“I understand completely.”

“You received the additional materials my office sent you, didn’t you?”

“At this moment, Dante Paolo is talking to his father most enthusiastically on the other telephone about your proposals.”

“You know, it’s really remarkable, Countess. A young man that bright, that intuitive. The baron must be terribly proud. And you, Countess, a knowledgeable, lovely sister he can confide in, a woman of such charm, such diplomacy. Have you ever thought of politics?”

“I think of them all the time,” the Baj replied, a smile in her voice. “And how I wish they’d all disappear—they destroy me so.”

“Please, some of us need the work. I’ll leave a message for you with the specifics of your visit to the White House.… And, of course, you know how to reach me if you have news from Ravello.”

“Not if, Signor Nesbitt, merely when.
Arrivederci
.” Bajaratt replaced the phone, her eyes on the Shenandoah stationery on which she had written the numbers and the names she had been given by the hotel in Washington. Three of them could wait, so could the last, but sheer curiosity forced her to lift the receiver and dial the red-haired young political consultant from Palm Beach.

“Reilly’s Plumbers,” said the cheerful voice on the
answering machine. “If your message relates to payment for my services, press one. If it doesn’t, get the hell off the line and let someone worthwhile call me. You may, however, leave your name and even your number, but I make no promises.” A long beep followed and the Baj spoke.

“We met in Palm Beach, Mr. Reilly, and I’m returning your call—”

“Glad you did, Countess,” the political consultant interrupted, breaking into the line. “You’re not an easy lady to track down.”

“How did you, Mr. Reilly?”

“Sorry, that’ll cost you,” answered the young man, laughing. “On the other hand, since you didn’t press one, I’ll tell you for nothing.”

“How kind of you.”

“It was simple. I remembered a few of the Washington bears who were sniffing around your campfire and called their secretaries. Two out of three told me where you were.”

“They were so free with the information?”

“They sure were after I explained that I just flew in from Rome with a confidential message for you from the big-shot baron—and how grateful he’d be to know the name of anyone who helped me. Also, I happened to mention that diamond bracelets spelling out the name Ravello weren’t out of the question. You know how expansive these rich Italians are.”

“You are a rogue, Mr. Reilly.”

“I keep trying, Countess. This town is filled with pros.”

“Why did you wish to reach me?”

“I’m afraid that
will
cost you, lady.”

“What service could you possibly render to me that I would pay for?”

“Information.”

“Of what nature, what value?”

“That’s two different things, and to be perfectly honest, I can answer the first but I can’t put a price on the second. Only you can.”

“Then answer the first.”

“Okay. Someone’s looking in the sewers for a couple of people who may or may not be you and the kid, emphasis on the
not
, because it would be too farfetched. But then, I’ve got a wild imagination.”

“I see.” Bajaratt froze.
So near, so close
! “We are who we are, Mr. Reilly,” she said, her control at maximum. “Who might the others be?”

“Like I said, sewer rats. Hustlers, maybe Mafia drug missionaries looking for better markets, or just plain scam artists from Sicily who know who to hold up.”

“We could be mistaken for such people?”

“Hell, not on the surface. The woman’s a lot younger than you, and the kid’s described as an illiterate, muscle-bound thug.”

“It’s all preposterous!”

“Yeah, that’s what I kept thinking, but as I say, I’ve got a crazy imagination. Do you want to meet?”

“Certainly, if only to put this insanity to rest.”

“Where?”

“In a city or town called Fairfax, there’s an inn or a hotel of sorts called the Shenandoah Lodge.”

“I know it. So do most of the wandering husbands in Washington—surprised you could get in. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“I’ll be in the parking lot,” the Baj said. “I don’t care to upset Dante Paolo,
barone-cadetto di Ravello
.”

Ashkelon
!

Forever. What news
?

We’re about to enter phase one. Prepare for countdown
.

Allah be loved; Allah be praised
.

Praise an American senator
.

Are you joking
?

Not for an instant. He’s come through for us. The strategy was successful
!

Details
?

You don’t need them. Still, in case I don’t survive, his name is Nesbitt. You may have need of him after I’m gone. And your Allah knows, he’ll be vulnerable
.

The limousine, driven by Poole, pulled into the entrance of the Shenandoah Lodge. The Van Nostrand name secured two adjoining double rooms despite the lateness of the hour and the disheveled appearance of the three travelers.

“What do we do now, Tye?” said Cathy, walking into the room Tyrell and Poole were sharing.

“Order some food, get some rest, and start making calls—oh, my God!”

“What is it?”

“Stevens
!” cried Hawthorne, rushing to the telephone. “The
police
… they could cripple Charlotte, take the pilots into custody, the whole scenario could be blown away!”

“Can you stop them?” Neilsen asked as Tyrell dialed furiously.

“It depends when they got there.… Captain Stevens, four-zero emergency!… Henry, it’s me. Whatever’s happening at Van Nostrand’s, you have to push every button you’ve got to keep it quiet!” Hawthorne fell silent, listening intently for nearly a minute. “I have to take back a few of the things I’ve laid on you, Captain,” he said finally, less excitedly, relief in his tone. “I’ll call you in a couple of hours with some names. Put each one under a microscope, twenty-four-hour details, telephone logs, scumbag material, the whole bag of dirty tricks.… Good thinking, Henry. By the way, I’ve been doing some thinking too, reevaluating maybe, on another subject. This may sound crazy at a time like this, but how well
did you know Ingrid?” A sad smile creased Tyrel’s face, his eyes briefly closing. “That’s what I thought. Speak to you around midnight. Will you be at the office or at home?… Right, I shouldn’t have asked.” Hawthorne hung up the phone, his hand still on it as he raised his head and spoke. “Stevens anticipated the scenario. He’s pulled a black drape over the Van Nostrand estate.”

“But the man’s dead!” exclaimed Poole. “What about all those
dead
bodies? How the hell are they going to keep all that quiet?”

“Fortunately, only one patrol car went out there, and Stevens reached police headquarters a few minutes before the two patrolmen called in. He put the clamps on all communications relative to Van Nostrand’s death, backing it up with something called an ‘alternating data-based security code’ forwarded by naval intelligence.”

“Just like that?”

“
That
, Lieutenant, is apparently the way things are done these days. You don’t say ‘keep it quiet’ anymore, computers do that. You can’t be in the spook business unless you’re a walking manual of high technology. No wonder I’m history.”

“You’ve done pretty well so far,” said Cathy. “Better than anyone else.”

“I’d like to, I’d
really
like to. If only somehow to give something back to Cooke and Ardisonne, two other ‘has-beens.’… God damn that bitch and everyone she deals with! I
want
those bastards!”

“You’re gettin’ closer, Tye, close even.”

Close, thought Hawthorne, taking off his cotton bush jacket now stained with sweat and dirt.
Close …
? Oh, yes, he had been close, so close he had held her in his arms, making love as if the fragments of a shattered dream had been pieced together, dark night turned into a glorious dawn, the sun bursting over the horizon permitting a new and wonderful day. God damn you, Dominique! Liar, liar,
liar
. All you ever said to me were lies. But I’ll find you, bitch, and blind you as you blinded me,
make you feel the pain I feel.
God damn
you, Dominique, I spoke of love and felt love; you spoke of love and there was only deceit. Worse—far worse—at the roots there had to be hatred, the essential loathing the user has for the used.

“But where is she, Jackson?” Tyrell asked out loud. “That’s the real question, isn’t it?”

“I think you’re overlooking something that’s terribly important,” Neilsen interrupted. “You’ve established that she’s here, this close to Washington, so the President’s security measures will be raised to the zenith. How can she possibly penetrate that shield?”

“Because the man can’t stop doing his job.”

“I thought you said all appearances, even local trips, were called off. He’s isolated, quarantined, a prisoner in his own house.”

“I know all that. What bothers me is that she knows it too, but it’s not stopping her.”

“I see what you mean. The leaks, the killings—Charlie, Miami; even you on Saba and here with Van Nostrand. Who are these people who support her? For God’s sake, why?”

“I wish I knew the answer—the answers to both questions.” Hawthorne sat down on the bed, then lay back on the pillow, his hands behind his head. “I have to go back, back to Amsterdam and all the goddamned stupid games that were played, the casualties that were never made public, no body counts there, pal.…
A
leans on
B
for one reason;
B
on
C
for another, seemingly unrelated;
C
on
D
for something off-the-wall with rearranged words, and finally
D
reaches
E
, who penetrates because he or she can, and it’s what
A
wanted in the first place. The chain is so convoluted, you can’t follow it.”

“Apparently, you did,” said Neilsen, a touch of admiration in her voice. “Your service record made it quite clear: You were outstanding.”

“Sometimes, not always, and mostly by accident.”

Poole was sitting at the desk, running his hand
through his light brown hair. “I wrote down what you just said about
A, B, C, D
and
E
, and since I was pretty alert in math, includin’ geometry, trigonometry, calculus, and a touch of nuclear physics, were you sayin’ that these people in Amsterdam were programmed in differently calibrated spheres? Like in disassociated quadrants?”

“I haven’t the vaguest idea what you mean.”

“But you just said it.”

“Then I’ll stand by it. What did I say?”

“That none of the letters knew exactly what was goin’ on except the first and the last.”

“It’s oversimplified but essentially correct. It’s called using blinds, contacts who might sense something but have no specifics to reveal, and usually don’t suspect anything.”