Shadows and Lies (24 page)

“That’s what
they
wanted. I told them there weren’t any.”

“But you were lying to them. Where are they?”

Marei looked at him without emotion. “You’re right, okay? My father insisted I make copies. I had him hold them. But he’s dead now, so I don’t know where they are. Maybe the French have them”

“I’m surprised your father would permit you to ever become involved in something like this.”

“He believes in the President. He trusted him and was very proud to have his daughter such a close friend. Even if I was just a... shack job. That’s the expression, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure it didn’t hurt business either.”

“You’re a bastard, you know that? My father loved me.” Her voice choked. “He’d never use me for business.”

“What was your father’s plan if things went wrong?”

“I’m really very tired. Can’t we stop?”

“No.”

“I don’t think I like you at all. He was to leak the documents to the
New York Times
for publication. Uncle Abdul called when I was there and gave him this signal we had. My father thought I’d be safe once that was done, or at least safer. We were going to leave the country together. He knew somewhere we would be safe until this was over. At worse it would only be for four years. But they’re dead now.” Her eyes meet his and again they looked wise. “So am I, I think.”

“Not if I can help it.” This opened up so many possibilities they were virtually limitless. There was no point in endless speculation. Better to focus on what was at hand. “You still haven’t told me who attacked you and why. Did it have anything to do with your work as a courier?”

“Go to hell, Dan, if that is even your name! You tell Dick, or whoever it was that sent you, Julie Marei has nothing to say to anyone. Now leave me alone! Get out! I never wanted you here anyway!”

“I can’t do that.”

“You might as well because I have nothing more to tell you!”

“For one, I can’t get out of here until the weather lets up and I clear that tree from the road.”

“I don’t know anything about a tree. I think you made it up. Just go!”

“For another, the only chance I have to get out of this mess alive is to understand what is going on. I’m not leaving until you’ve told me, so get used to the idea. And we don’t have a lot of time. I wouldn’t waste any of it if I was you.”

She scowled. “You tell me you are in danger.
I’m
the one with the wounds,
I’m
the one those Algerian pigs jabbed cigarettes into. For all I know you’re just like them.”

“They tried to kill me, Julie. And if they had been successful you’d be dead right now.” He pulled a fresh pack of cigarettes from the carton and worked it open. His throat and mouth were raw from the smoke. “I spoke with your cousin, Nasr.”

“Salah?” She eyed him skeptically. “When?”

“Very early this morning.”

Her face softened. “He used to hide my dolls when I was little. He was always mean to me.”

“I think he loves you very much.”

“Yes. He does. What did you talk about?”

“Backgammon, among other things.”

“He’s very good at it. Don’t bet money though. When I was a little girl, he won all of my toys from me.”

“He believes I want to help and trusted me enough to let me find you.”

Marei turned her lovely face away from him in a slow roll of resignation and self-loathing. It was a very long time before she spoke. “If you want me to trust you, to tell you what happened, who stabbed me, why I’m here, then tell me who you are and why you’re in danger.” She met his eyes. “See if you can make it the truth.”

            
 
NINETEEN

The West Wing, 8:34 p.m.

Martin Karp pressed the mute button on the television remote as Becky Tufts replaced her portable microphone and embraced the adulation of the delegates. She could really be something sometimes he had to admit. After the news earlier that day it had been a gutsy performance. He lifted the telephone receiver.

“I’ve got the data you requested.” the voice said. “Just what interest do you have in this man Powers?”

“It’s like I told you before.”

“You’re not thinking about using him for anything are you?”

“Just give me the report.”

“Okay, but I sure hope you’ll keep him on your side. Otherwise, stay the hell away from him.”

“I told you I don’t expect to make friends.”

“That’s too bad. Here’s what I’ve got. Daniel Ryan Powers. Webster State College in St. Louis for two years, then enlisted U.S. Marine Corps in 1969. OCS, two tours Vietnam, detached duty second tour from October 1971 to December 1972. Separated three months later as a captain.”

“What’s ‘detached duty?’”

“It’s a black hole, that’s what it is. Very hush hush. Mostly oral orders for maximum deniability, teams from all branches of the military so everyone’s in on it and no service gains by blowing the whistle. If records ever existed they aren’t to be found now. I’d say CIA, maybe NSA, hell even the Defense Intelligence Agency. There are half a dozen others I can think of, who were making moves in the bush racking up chits inside the beltway.”

“What the hell would he have done?”

“Almost anything. Those guys worked the shadows. Black ops, wet jobs, intel rings, payoffs, drugs even. Anything’s possible and we’ll never know.”

“Go ahead.”

“Usual decorations, but get this...”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Just listen. Two Purple Hearts, one Silver Star and the DSC, that’s the Distinguished Service Cross for laymen. One step from the Medal of Honor. Very rare air. He saw combat. A lot of it.”

“All right. He’s some kind of war hero. What else?”

“Graduated from Webster State after discharge and heavily recruited by the CIA, which is why I think that’s who he was with in Nam, but apparently he’s a local boy at heart and instead joined the St. Louis Police Department, where he was soon in the minority as a white man. Uniform, but not long, then detective, promoted sergeant then a few months later to lieutenant, very fast track. Worked burglary, robbery, homicide, but excelled early at narcotics. That’s when it gets murky.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I can’t nail anything down, all right? Just rumors and educated guesses, but I think my summary from here on is accurate. He was assigned to work directly for the chief of police to break up a heist crew run by local cops. Two attempts on his life, neither successful. He then solved four contract murders committed by a retired cop. The cop disappeared, presumed dead so there was no embarrassing trial.”

“He killed him?”

“No one’s saying. There’s those who think he did. Then it gets really muddy, like I said. He was ordered to stop the Colombians from taking over the St. Louis drug market and given a great deal of latitude in how he did it. There are plenty who say he went way too far. The political decision was better the home boys they knew than violent foreign interlopers. He established excellent contacts with the traditional Italian mafia to accomplish it. He caught the mayor’s eye and was given several politically sensitive assignments. Even did one for the governor, much to his everlasting gratitude. This guy keeps his mouth shut, is very clever and relentless. For the last three years as a cop, he worked a joint state and federal task force which targeted the Russian mob. It looks like the same kind of deal: better our guys we know than the Russians. Once they’re in you won’t ever get them out. Ask the Germans. Powers spent a lot of time in Chicago, undercover is the story. Some work in Canada since this task force was hands across the border. They followed cases into the U.S. and hooked up with an American investigator, vice versa. I don’t know if your guy was one or not.”

“What the hell are you talking about? He’s just a Missouri hick cop!”

“And I’m Santa Claus. My best lead now would be to find a federal source with knowledge of this task force, but I’m reasonably certain the last thing you want is to alert federal law enforcement there is high level interest in Powers. Let me know if I’m wrong about that. Getting back to this task force. Your man used his mafia contacts, since the effect of keeping the Russians out was to protect them from a serious threat. As a result he developed very close alliances with three dons. Most notable is Carmine Gennarelli, out of Chicago, head of the family’s central state’s operations in gambling, loan sharking, and money laundering. Powers did these guys some favors and collected a lot of chits. I’m told Gennarelli’d give him the use of his wife and both of his daughters, if Powers said the word. That’s some favor he did the man and I don’t have a clue what it was. What I’m saying here is Powers is a player if he wants to be. He’s got OC connections, federal and very likely Canadian law enforcement contacts, and at the least I’d say he’s still got a friend or two in intelligence.”

“I can’t believe you’re even talking about the same man!”

“I don’t know how he comes across, but I’ll guarantee you he gives nothing away. I heard a story about this guy that I still don’t know if I ought to believe but it sure fits. I’d stay the hell away from him unless it’s entirely legitimate. If you’re already involved and have anyone on him be certain it’s the A team. Like I said, better Powers is your friend, or at the least
not
your enemy. There’s something else you should know.”

“What’s that?”

“Someone’s checking on
you
.”

“What are you saying?”

“Someone’s dug up your history, not the kind in your CV either. I thought you should know. I think its Powers.”

“Mother of Jesus.” Karp disconnected then punched a number. “I need Lily.” Pause. “Don’t tell me he isn’t available. I need him now!” Pause. “All right, you just
do
that!!”

Seven Fountains, 9:33 p.m.

Powers took time to brew a fresh pot of coffee and persuaded Marei to eat stew he heated from a can. He thought he detected a change in the storm outside, but when he went to the window it sounded and looked no different.

“Are you going to clean up and make the bed while you stall?” she said sarcastically.

“I guess I am putting it off. The problem I have isn’t that I don’t want to tell you who I am or my role in this, but it’s that I’m convinced persons at the White House want to kill you, and I’m not entirely persuaded yet that I’ve figured that part out. If you think the people or person you most fear sent me, then it will only reinforce your suspicion that I’m really here to kill you. The truth is I believe I’ve been a patsy. I’m not entirely certain, though, who is behind it.”

“I don’t know the word.”

“I’ve been used. I’m a dupe.”

“I see. That doesn’t say much for you, does it?”

“Perhaps when you hear how this began you’ll be more charitable.”

“So tell me, though I’m warning you I don’t feel very forgiving tonight.”

“I can understand that.” He returned to his seat. “I’m a former police officer. My wife and son died last year and I retired.”

“I took you for military.”

“I was in the armed forces many years ago and saw a great deal of action. I suppose it leaves its imprint on you. My police work has had its moments as well.”

“Where did they get you from? What are you doing here?”

“I am a childhood friend of someone at the White House who asked me to help, for their sake and for the good of the country. No one said anything to me about you’re having been attacked or wanting you dead. I was told you were trying to blackmail the President and my role was to negotiate a settlement with you and recover the sex tapes.”

“I never tried to blackmail the President. I already told you that.”

“I believe you. I was lied to. But maybe the person who told me that was also lied to.”

"They’re using you," Marei said contemptuously. "They've already got the tapes from my apartment. They sent you after
me
! They want me dead!!”

“I know.”

“So why would they want to kill you? You’re one of them!”

“I’m not part of them. I’m an outsider brought in to perform a function, someone with no known ties to the White House. At first it appeared you were dead and it seemed someone had left the mess in your apartment and taken your body away.”

“But you cleverly figured out I was not dead.” She was sarcastic again.

“That’s right. You weren’t in a hospital, so that meant you were hiding somewhere. You required medical care so I ran down your uncle. Your friend Yvette gave me this clue. I don’t know if it was intentional or accidental.”

“She wasn’t a very good spy and had to be very upset. When are you going to tell me who your friend is?” It wasn’t a casual question, and he could see her brace herself for the answer.

“I was raised in Shalom, Missouri and have known...” Marei’s eyes grew the size of silver dollars and again her faced drained of color. She involuntarily crossed herself and muttered under her breath in French. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he continued. “You must trust me.”