The Washington Lawyer (17 page)

After tonight, Xiang wanted to be finished with Allison.

* * *

Naked, tossing and turning in bed, Allison glanced at the red digital clock on the night table. 2:50 a.m. Dammit, she thought, she never had trouble sleeping. But her emotions were raw.

Suddenly, the phone in Vanessa's bedroom rang, jarring Allison. She jumped up, ran into the other bedroom, and answered it. “Yes,” she said nervously.

“Allison Boyd, I have information about your sister's death and the man she was with in Anguilla.”

From the accent, Allison decided the caller was Asian, probably Chinese.

“Give me the information,” Allison said.

“Not over the phone.”

“Where then?”

“There's a church at 22nd and P. I'll meet you in the grassy area behind the church. Come right now.”

“Wait a minute, you can't expect me to …”

He hung up the phone.

Shivering, her teeth chattering, Allison clutched the dead phone in her hand, while agonizing over what to do. Meeting a stranger in the dead of the night was a huge risk. But she couldn't turn down an opportunity to obtain information about what had happened to Vanessa.

She could call the police and have an officer accompany her. Even if she could arrange that, it would take too long. More importantly, if the caller saw or sensed a police presence, he wouldn't stick around and talk to her.

Yes, she realized that going was foolhardy and stupid. Somebody had cut out on Vanessa in Anguilla and convinced the Anguilla police to accept a phony story. He or his agents had stolen stuff from Vanessa's apartment. These were determined people. Still, she had to go.

As she dressed, she realized that she needed a weapon. She stopped in the kitchen, pulled a sharp paring knife from a rack and tossed it into her purse.

The open pantry door and the can of Peet's coffee caught her eye. Before leaving the apartment, she put the vault key back in the coffee can and closed the pantry door. Right now, that was the only lead she had. If this was a trap, she didn't want to lose it.

* * *

Walking the three blocks to the church Allison was fearful but determined. She tried to steal her courage, but her knees were trembling, her walk unsteady, the briefcase shaking in her hand. Whoever these people were, they knew a great deal. They knew who she was, and that she wanted to find out whom Vanessa had been with in Anguilla. Allison wondered if she was crazy coming to a meeting like this without any protection. No, she wasn't, she decided. She had to see where this lead.

At the curb, in front of the church, she saw a gray Lexus. Plates DPL6279.

She walked to the back of the church. In a grassy area walled off from the street, in the moonlight, she saw two Chinese men sitting on a stone step. Both stood immediately and moved toward her.

“What do you know about Vanessa's death?” she asked in a halting voice.

One of the men, who had a scar on his left cheek, reached into the pocket of his tan raincoat and pulled out a gun. He pointed it at her and said, “Where's the CD? I want it or I'll kill you.”

She was flabbergasted. “What CD? I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Don't lie,” he snapped at her.

“I don't know anything about a CD.”

He handed the gun to his colleague, who aimed it at Allison. With her eyes on the gun, she didn't have a chance to react when the man with the scar reached out and grabbed her bag.

“Hey!” she cried out.

Helplessly, she watched him remove a flashlight from the other pocket of his raincoat and use it to search the bag. Not finding anything of interest, he dropped it on the ground.

Then, with the other man still pointing the gun at her, he moved up close to Allison. He ran his hands roughly over her body and into her jacket pockets. She thought of kicking him hard in the balls, but she was convinced his colleague would fire.

When he was finished, she said, “I told you I didn't have the CD. I don't even know what you're talking about.”

“Then what are you doing in Washington?”

“My twin sister died, and …”

Allison hesitated. She wasn't sure how to play this. She had to assume that these two were working with the man Allison had been with in Anguilla.

Scarface completed the sentence for her. “You want to know whom she was with in Anguilla.”

“That's right. And you know. Now tell me.”

He stared at her hard. “Mind your own fuckin' business. Leave this alone.”

“Whom are you protecting?”

“You have a choice, Allison Boyd. You either leave Washington tomorrow morning, go back to your project in Israel, and forget all this.
Or I'll kill you
. Listen, you're very intelligent. A degree in archeology at Maryland—one of the top schools for that program. You're a professor at Brown, an elite university. Do you understand what I'm telling you?”

“Yes,” she said flabbergasted that he knew so much about her.

“Now get out of here and go back to your sister's apartment. We won't bother you anymore tonight. But stay tomorrow, and you're a dead woman.”

* * *

Xiang took the gun from Chou and put it in his pocket. He followed Allison, with Chou behind him, back to the street. Once she crossed it, heading toward her sister's apartment, they climbed into the Lexus and pulled away.

Seconds later, Xiang's phone rang. It was Hu. “Negative,” he said.

“Are you out of the apartment.”

“Leaving now.”

“Move fast. She's on her way back.”

Xiang thought about his situation. Despite his threat, he had no intention of killing Allison. From her bio, he was confident she would never be intimidated. She would stay in Washington and continue digging, now to find the CD as well as to learn whom Vanessa had been with in Anguilla. She might locate the CD; and if he stuck close enough to her, he could grab it. That was why he had told her about the CD. He was convinced she had never heard about it before their conversation. Xiang wanted her to know. If she stayed, he wanted her to become his agent in finding it. She would know Vanessa's possible hiding places that he could never imagine. She would locate the CD. Then he would snatch it from her.

He and Chou would have to park close to the apartment building to pick her up when she left in the morning. He doubted if she'd call the police, but just in case, they would ditch the gray Lexus and use a different car.

* * *

Shaken, Allison turned the key, opened the door, and entered Vanessa's apartment. As soon as she did, the scent of garlic hit her. Somebody had been here when she was gone. She reached into the coat closet and grabbed a tennis racket to use as a weapon. Cautiously, she checked the apartment. He was gone. The smell of garlic was everywhere.

Remembering the vault key, she dashed into the kitchen and checked the coffee can. It was still there. She removed it and put it into her bag.

Now she decided to get police help. She called 911 and reported that someone had broken into her apartment. She pleaded with the operator to send an officer even though no one was hurt. The woman said she'd report the request.

An hour later, Allison heard a knock on the door. “DC Police,” a man called through the door.

She opened it to see a red, pockmarked, heavyset Caucasian face, dressed in a suit and tie. He held out an ID. “Detective Donovan,” she read.

She let him in and they sat down in the living room. Allison told Donovan what happened to her sister and everything that had happened since she entered the apartment the first time. She even gave him the license plate of the Lexus and told him what occurred in the churchyard.

Donovan listened politely, while yawning a couple of times, and took a few notes. She had the feeling he was going through the motions.

At the end, she said, “How can you help me?”

“I don't understand. No one was injured. At least, in Washington. Aside from one pair of underpants, no property was taken.”

“But people broke into this apartment twice. Once tonight. Two men pulled a gun on me in the churchyard. Don't you want to find them and arrest them?”

He held out his hands. Sympathetically, he said, “You have to realize it's a question of resources. Do you have any idea how many unsolved violent crimes we had last year in Washington? Even homicides. They'd laugh at me at headquarters if I spent time on this.”

“But I gave you a license plate. Doesn't that help?”

“A diplomatic plate makes it harder. It's an unwritten rule: diplomats get away with all kinds of shit unless they kill somebody.”

Allison was feeling exasperated. She tried not to show it. “Could you at least find out whose car it was?”

He sighed deeply, pulled out his cell phone, and repeated the license plate.

A few seconds later, he hung up the phone. “The Lexus is registered to the Chinese Embassy. For sure, nothing will happen. Routinely, we have to go to the State Department before we can move up on diplomats. And I know from my own personal experience that they're always trying to placate the Chinese.”

“That's terrible.”

“I agree. You're obviously an intelligent person. What do you do?”

“I'm a professor of archeology at Brown University.”

“Okay, I'm being honest with you. Listen, I know you're grieving for your sister, and you're upset …”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“I'm sorry,” he said in a kindly voice.

Realizing she was at a dead end, she thanked Donovan for coming. Then she put on the deadbolt and the chain across the door.

She had no intention of quitting. She'd get a couple of hours of sleep and pick up her digging in the morning.

But sleep didn't come. Angry and frustrated from her discussion with Donovan, she had to talk to someone. At six, she decided to call Paul. “Sorry, I woke you.”

“No. No. I was up. I have an early morning meeting with Andrew Martin. What's wrong?”

“Do you have time to talk?”

“Sure.”

“Before I tell you, I want your promise that you won't tell anyone. Under any circumstances. Agreed?”

“Yes. If that's what you'd like.”

She poured out the whole story of what happened since she and Paul split in front of Central. At the conclusion, he said, “Oh my God, that's awful. What can I do to help you?”

“I can't think of anything now, but I appreciate the offer. In a few hours, I'm going to Vanessa's office on the Hill.”

“But they said they'd kill you if you continued.”

“I won't quit.”

“Are you sure that's smart? I'm worried about you.”

“I have to do it.”

“Okay. But please be careful. And listen, you can't stay at Vanessa's apartment any longer. Stay at my house. You have the address in my contacts. I'll leave a key under the mat in front. Come whenever you want. And call me anytime you need help.”

“Thanks, Paul. I feel better having talked to you.”

* * *

Jasper was already waiting when Xiang arrived at their meeting point precisely at five. Dressed in a navy warm-up suit, the senator was pacing on the path.

The instant Xiang stopped running, Jasper said, “Did you find the CD?”

“Not yet. But I have some good leads. I'm getting close.”

“How close?” the senator asked in an anxiety filled voice.

“It wasn't in Vanessa's apartment, but Allison Boyd arrived last evening. She's Vanessa's twin.”

“I know who she is for Christ's sake. That's certainly useful information.”

Xiang was tempted to say, “Look you asshole, I'm trying to help you.” But that wouldn't get him anywhere, particularly today when he had Liu's mission on his mind.

“I'm expecting Allison to lead me to the CD.”

“How can you be sure she's looking for it?”

Xiang didn't want to explain to Jasper that he'd told Allison about it.

“From the way she tore up Vanessa's apartment last evening.”

“That's all you have? That's what you dragged me out of bed to hear?”

Well here goes, Xiang thought. The approach he had developed to achieve Liu's objective of getting the five year plan.

“Listen, Senator. Allison will be difficult to control. My men and I will be at risk in dealing with her. If I do this for you, I want something in return.”

The senator scowled. “What do you mean
if you do this for me?
You have as much at stake as I do.”

The senator was staring hard at Xiang, who met his gaze.

“That's not true. If the CD's discovered, I'll slip out of the country or at worst be expelled. The United States would never attempt to try me, but you'll …”

Jasper completed the sentence, “Go to jail for a long time.”

Jasper looked angry. “Despite all the valuable documents I've given you, now you pull shit like this.”

“Don't forget we paid you well for those documents. And getting this CD was never in the deal you made with us.”

“Can't trust you fuckin' Chinese. I was a damn fool getting into a deal with you devious people.”

Xiang bristled at the slur, but he kept his anger in check. Jasper was totally despicable. No redeeming qualities. Xiang kept focus. “Are you in or out?”

“Okay, what else are you looking for?”

Xiang exhaled with relief. The old politician's instinct for the deal had kicked in.

“One of the documents you gave me discusses a five-year plan for Asia and pacific deployment being prepared by the Pentagon. I want that five-year plan.”

“It's not available yet.”

“As soon as it is.”

Jasper kicked at the ground without responding. Finally, he said, “You're asking for quite a bit. That's a very critical document.”

“The CD could destroy your life. That's critical, too.”