The Washington Lawyer (15 page)

“Yes.”

“Good. Wait here for a minute.”

She told Mother, “I'll meet you back at the house.”

Then she looked around for Geraldine. The chief of staff was walking rapidly along a path toward her car. Allison cut across the damp grass and caught up with her. “Thanks for flying out.”

“I'm sorry for you and your family.”

“Are you coming back to the house?”

“Afraid not. I'm due in Cincinnati.”

“Before you pull away, I want to ask you something.”

Geraldine seemed wary. “Yeah?”

“Who'd my sister go with to Anguilla?”

Geraldine shuffled her feet and twirled strands of her hair. “She told me she was going alone.”

“My sister wouldn't do that. Was it with somebody on your committee?”

Geraldine didn't respond.

“You're covering for him?”

“I just know what she told me.”

The woman's lying, Allison decided. “I intend to find out. You think I'll let him get away with abandoning my sister's body on a beach? I'll create a scandal. I'll ruin his life, his marriage, and his career.”

Geraldine turned away and got into her car.

Allison felt like pelting it with a chunk of sod.

Paul was waiting for her. Walking to the car, he said, “What was that all about?”

“I told you on the phone that Vanessa drowned in Anguilla.”

Paul nodded. “That's all you said. Who'd she go with?”

“I've been getting a bullshit story from the police in Anguilla. That she went by herself. That she was swimming alone at night.”

“Vanessa?”

From the sound of his voice, Allison knew Paul didn't believe their story any more than she did. “I was hoping that miserable woman from Vanessa's office would tell me who he was. But she's covering for him. He was some scumbag, no doubt married.”

“He should come forward.”

“And I intend to make sure he does.”

Paul and Allison went back to the house where she spoke briefly with friends and neighbors who stopped by to express their condolences. Platters of food were heaped on the dining room table. Few ate anything. After about an hour, people drifted away.

Allison went upstairs and looked in on her father who was resting. In the living room, there were just Paul and her mother. “Will you wait outside for a minute?” she asked him. She wanted to confront her mother.

When he was gone, she said, “You don't believe the story about her death, do you?”

Her mother didn't respond.

“For God's sakes, Mother. Vanessa went off with some guy for the weekend. Probably he was married. When she drowned, the bastard split. Now they're trying to cover it up.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I knew Vanessa. She would never have gone to a Caribbean island by herself. Or anywhere else. When she went on vacation, unless she went with me, there had to be a man.”

“Your sister wasn't like that. She was an angel.”

“Yeah, well, the angel had marijuana and alcohol in her blood.”

“You shouldn't talk that way about your sister.”

“I loved her so much. She was wonderful. She was talented. She was gorgeous. And I loved her. But I also saw her for what she was. The real Vanessa Boyd, not some fictional angel you created in your mind. I have to know what happened to her. How could anyone have left her alone like that? Don't you want to know?”

“Some things are better left alone.”

“Why? Because you're worried the truth will tarnish her memory?”

Looking at her mother, Allison realized her words had hit home.

“And what difference will it make anyhow? She's gone. Nothing you do will bring her back.”

“I want justice, and I need closure.”

Allison turned away from her mother, who was still in her fantasy world. Not Allison. As always, she had to learn the truth.

Where should she begin, Allison wondered. Washington or Anguilla?

Washington made more sense. From Vanessa's diary, calendar, and other documents, she'd find the name of Vanessa's lover.

She went outside to Paul. “When's your plane to Washington?”

“I have to leave here in a few minutes.”

“I want to come with you.”

“Good. I'll call my office and have them get you a seat.”

“Give me a couple minutes to pack my things. I'll be right out.”

Allison couldn't wait to get to Washington. She was confident she'd find the answers there.

Washington

T
ired beyond belief, Xiang got off the plane at Dulles Airport. As soon as he was in his car, he took out his cell and called Hu. “I'm on my way in from the airport. Meet me in my office in forty minutes.”

“Get to the embassy first. Then call me,” Hu said in a frosty tone, confirming Xiang's apprehension about Hu taking orders from him. Somehow, he'd have to make it work. Complaining to Liu would turn every member of state security in Washington against him.

Next, Xiang picked up the special encrypted cell phone dedicated for calls with Jasper and dialed Jasper's matching cell. The senator immediately answered, “Tomorrow,” Xiang said and ended the call.

As he drove, Xiang thought about how difficult his meeting would be the next morning with Jasper in the park. In theory, Liu's idea of using the solution to Jasper's CD problem as a way of getting the Pentagon's five-year plan made sense. But in their last meeting, Jasper seemed to be coming unglued. It would be difficult to strike a rational deal with an irrational man. Somehow Xiang had to find a way to do it.

The Chinese Embassy occupied a large complex in what was the new embassy row in Washington on Van Ness Street, just west of Connecticut Avenue. Its neighbors included such foreign powerhouses as the Pakistani, Saudi Arabian, and Israeli embassies with one important distinction. In size, the Chinese dwarfed all the others. For its construction, Beijing had insisted on using Chinese firms to minimize the risk that listening devices would be built into the walls, floors, and ceilings.

As soon as Xiang reached his office, he called Hu. “I'm ready for you.”

“Well, I'm not. I'm finishing up something. I'll be there shortly.”

More gamesmanship. Ten minutes later, Hu called. “You better come to my office. I might get an urgent call.”

Grin and bear it, Xiang thought when he entered Hu's office, that was much larger than Xiang's. Hu, a tall bean pole with a long narrow face led the way to a table.

Xiang saw a map of the DuPont Circle area spread out.

They leaned over the map. Xiang smelled Hu's garlic breath.

“Here is Vanessa's apartment building,” Hu said pointing. “She has a corner apartment with windows to the north and west. Across a narrow alley to the west is a hotel that we're using for surveillance.”

“We caught a break.

Hu sneered. “What do you mean
we
caught a break? My men and I carefully canvassed the area. We worked hard to find the hotel.”

“Okay. What's the surveillance?”

“We've taken a hotel room which gives us an unobstructed view into the large bedroom in Vanessa's apartment. I've had a man in the hotel room with binoculars for the last ten hours. Nobody has come into that bedroom. I also have two men in a gray Lexus parked in front of Vanessa's apartment building. They're ready to follow anyone if I give the order.”

“Good work,” Xiang said.

“I know it's good work,” Hu said in a haughty tone. “But I'm convinced we're wasting our time. I don't think anyone's coming.”

Xiang was ready to slam that one back to Hu. “Surveillance was Minister Liu's idea. Would you like me to tell him that you don't think it's wise?”

Hu reddened. “No, of course not.”

“Good. Let's go to the hotel.”

“Why do you want to do that?”

“To see the surveillance for myself.”

“You don't believe my report?”

Polite wasn't working. Xiang was ready to dig in. “Minister Liu put me in charge of this operation. I have to see it. You can go with me, or I can go alone.”

“We'll both go.”

They parked two blocks away. When he was in the hotel room, Xiang picked up a pair of binoculars. The set up was perfect. Not only would they see anyone in the large bedroom, but if the visitor turned the lights on and didn't close the curtains, they'd be able to watch what the visitor did. Pluck the CD from a secure hiding place?

The problem, Xiang realized, was that they didn't have cameras throughout the apartment, and they couldn't see into the other rooms from their observation point in the hotel.

Suppose Allison or someone else came into the apartment and uncovered the CD in a room other than the large bedroom. How would Xiang know? How would Xiang get the CD from her?

Xiang Googled Allison Boyd. He studied her impressive academic resume and her athletic prowess on the US Olympic field hockey team. He read about the new project she had undertaken in Israel. One colleague described her as tenacious. He realized she would be a tough nut to crack. He was developing a plan in his mind to take advantage of that tenacity.

* * *

Walking into Michel Richard's Central with Paul at eight thirty, Allison noted that the restaurant was crowded. Seemed like mostly young lawyers, briefcases at their feet, BlackBerries and iPhones on the table, stopping for dinner after working late. At the bar, still a score of thirty somethings who hadn't hooked up yet for the evening. Loud, after drinking for a couple of hours, the women's skirts riding high on their thighs, an extra button undone on their blouses. A TV above the bar, showing a Caps game.

Paul, looking self-confident, approached David the maître d', who gave him a big greeting, then led them to a prime table in the back, close to the kitchen, which was visible on the other side of a metal counter where chefs in high white hats left dishes for waiters under heat lamps.

Initially, Allison didn't want to go to dinner, but Paul had convinced her. “You have to eat to keep up your strength. Your investigation can wait for a few hours.”

The waiter came by and handed them menus with a wine list. “Something to drink?”

Paul turned to Allison. “I remember from the time we had dinner with Vanessa that you like red wine.”

“Right.”

Without looking, Paul said, “We'll have the St. Joseph, the only one on your list.”

The waiter nodded and rushed away.

“I'm starving,” Allison said. “I haven't eaten all day.”

“Don't you count the two bags of pretzels we had on the plane?”

“How could I have forgotten?”

“You'll like the food here. It's bistro with creative touches.”

“What do you recommend?”

“Mussels first. Then I'm having the rib eye steak. You'll like the lobster burger.”

After the waiter returned and opened the wine, he took a pad from his pocket and looked at Allison.

“Mussels to start,” she said. “Then the rib eye with fries.”

Paul raised his eyebrows. “Whoa. That's a surprise.”

He turned to the waiter. “Ditto for me.”

Once the server departed, Paul said, “I thought you only eat fish.”

“Most of the time, but I like a big juicy steak now and then.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay. If you say so.” Then he raised his glass and clinked it against hers. “To being with you again. Despite the awful circumstances.”

The dark Rhone, with a full bodied flavor, was delicious, she thought.

“I feel guilty being here and Vanessa's gone,” she said. She couldn't bring herself to use the word dead.

“I still can't believe it.”

“Why did you two break up? She knew I thought you were good for her. She wouldn't tell me what happened.”

“It's not much of a story, I'm afraid. On her birthday I went to her apartment to pick her up for dinner. I had a bottle of Krug and a diamond ring from Tiffany's in my pocket.

“We drank a glass of champagne. As soon as I brought out the ring, she raised her hand and said, ‘Stop, Paul. You're a great guy, I don't want to hurt you, but I don't want to marry you.' When I asked her why not she made it clear she wanted to marry a powerful Washington figure. Not an associate or even a junior partner in a law firm.”

Allison shook her head sadly. She thought again about how she had urged Vanessa to marry Paul as she worried about Vanessa making a mess of her life. She had been convinced that if Vanessa had settled down with dependable Paul, Allison's worries would be over.

Paul sipped some wine, then continued. “Anyway, I realized arguing with her was futile. We went out to dinner and never saw each other again.”

“She had so much to live for. She was beautiful, and …”

Allison thought she might cry again. Perhaps sensing it, he put his hand on hers. It helped her regain some self-control.

“When I called you on Tuesday, you told me you had been in Israel when you got the call about Vanessa. What were you doing there?”

Allison was impressed at how smoothly Paul had changed the subject.

“I'm heading up an archeology project with an Israeli partner. We're trying to uncover a town from the time of King Solomon.”

“That's good,” he said with enthusiasm. “Before we broke up Vanessa told me you'd been promoted to professor, the youngest one ever in the archeology department at Brown. That's quite an achievement. And she also told me you won a bronze medal for field hockey in the Olympics in Barcelona. She was there and so proud of you.”

“God, that was almost fifteen years ago.”

“Tell me about it.”

The mussels came. After eating a few, she said, “I took off a year after undergraduate college to try out for the Olympic team. My dad had been a hero in the Vietnam war and he inspired a love of country in me. I wanted to represent the United States. Somehow I made the team. The brutal training was the hardest part. It included a workout with Navy Seals, which involved 1,000 pushups, 1,000 sit ups, 1,000 jumping jacks, three miles of rowing, lifting a 250-pound log with seven team mates and carrying it the length of a football field, and after all that, a run up a mountain. At the end, I thought I'd throw up and never move again.”