Stuart Woods: D.C. Dead

“That’s problematical,” Shelley said. “Kerry is a cautious man. He’s not going to want to nail himself to that kind of statement. I think it’s better if the White House issues the announcement.”

“I don’t think the president is the person to issue a statement about a criminal investigation,” Holly said, “and I don’t think the first lady will think so, either.”

“The attorney general, then,” Shelley said.

“He’s not involved in this,” Holly pointed out. “This should be done at Kerry’s level. I’m not suggesting that the director of the FBI put his imprimatur on it.”

“You can try, but I’m beginning to get the feeling that I’m going to be the one to carry the water on this.”

“Maybe an assistant director is good enough,” Holly said, “but Kerry is worth a shot.”

The following morning, Stone and Dino drove over to the Hoover Building, parked in the basement garage, and took the elevator up to the executive floor, where Kerry Smith received them. Holly and Shelley were already there.

After offering them coffee, Kerry tossed a copy of the Washington Times onto the coffee table, open to an inside page. “You all look as if you’re enjoying yourselves,” he said.

Stone picked up the paper and saw the photograph taken of them the previous evening. They were all named, except Holly, who had a menu in the way, and she was called “an unidentified woman.”

Stone passed the paper around.

“Why couldn’t I be the ‘unidentified woman’?” Shelley asked.

“We were just having dinner, Kerry,” Stone said. “We can’t worry about some gossip guy with a camera.”

“Of course not,” Kerry replied. “Okay, tell me where you are and where you’re going with your investigation.”

“Where we are is at the end,” Stone said. “Where we’re going is back to New York.”

“Have you told the president this?”

“We thought we’d let the first lady do that.”

“She told him last night,” Holly said. “He apparently took it well.”

“And who’s going to explain all this to the media?” Kerry asked.

“That would be you,” Holly said.

“Gee, thanks.”

“It shouldn’t come from the director, nor from someone any lower than you.”

“Just what would you like me to say?”

“Send a fax to the AP and Reuters, and to the big papers, if you want to, saying that an investigation has determined that the probable murderer was Charlotte Kirby, who then took her own life.”

“The ‘probable’ murderer?”

“All right, the likely murderer. Or just the murderer. You shouldn’t sound uncertain.” She explained about the absence of fingerprints on the gun’s magazine and the ammunition.

“I guess that’s a decent theory,” Kerry said. “Where is the Arlington PD in all this?”

“I took it away from them as soon as I heard about it, I heardt i” Kerry Shelley said, “on the grounds that Kirby was a federal employee. Dave King and his people own the case.”

“Have Dave King write a memo to you, recommending that the case be concluded, and copy me.”

“I’ll get it done this morning,” Shelley replied.

“I’m going to have to run this by the director.”

“Of course, Kerry, by all means,” Holly said. “Nobody’s trying to hang you out to dry. We’ve all bought into this.”

“Is that true?” Kerry asked, looking at the group.

Everybody nodded.

“Okay. You all have a second cup of coffee while I take this down the hall to the director.” He put on his coat and left the office.

“I thought that went well,” Holly said.

“It went well only if the director buys it,” Shelley said.

They chatted desultorily for the minutes before Kerry returned.

“All right,” he said, “the director is on board. As soon as I get Dave King’s memo and Shelley’s written recommendation, we’ll get it on the wire services, probably around five. Everybody, and that includes all of you, will be unavailable for comment. Clear?”

There was a murmur of assent, then everybody went their separate ways.

Back in the car, Dino drove out onto Pennsylvania Avenue. “I feel relieved,” he said.

“I’ll feel relieved when we’ve got wheels up,” Stone said. “It’ll have to be in the morning. There’s a line of thunderstorms between here and New York that I’m not going to fly through, because I don’t want to die.”

“Once again, we agree,” Dino replied. “I don’t want to die, either.”

Stone and Dino got back to the Hay-adams, and Holly followed close behind. Holly called her office from the bedroom and then made several other calls.

Stone went into the bedroom. “We’re ordering lunch. You want something?”

“A club sandwich on rye with mayo and a Diet Coke,” Holly said, covering the phone. “Let me know when it comes.” She went back to talking on the phone.

As Stone came out of the bedroom, Dino was hanging up the other line. “Shelley’s going to join us for a second farewell dinner. She insisted.”

“Okay with me,” Stone said, “but I know this is because you just want to get laid one more time before we fly out of here.”

“There’s that, too,” Dino said.

Lunch arrived, and Stone went to get Holly, who was still on the phone.

“Just keep a lid on the sandwich,” she said, covering the receiver again. “I’ll be there when I can.”

Stone went back to the room service table and watched as the waiter served his pasta. He was ravenously hungry, he discovered.

Dino took a bite out of his bacon cheeseburger, then switched on the TV to find the Yankees game.

While Dino watched in silence, Stone ran over the whole of their s burger,tay there, looking for some glitch, some loophole they hadn’t covered. Apart from the missing cell phone, he could think of nothing.

Holly finally came out of the bedroom, sat down, and uncovered her sandwich. “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “I’ve been on a conference call with Tim Coleman at the White House and Kerry Smith. They finally hammered out a press release that we all agreed on. I represented the first lady in the argument.”

“Was it all that tough?” Stone asked.

“To get the White House, the CIA, and the FBI to agree on language? It doesn’t get any tougher than that.”

“Are you happy with what they came up with?”

“It’ll work, I think. The trick was to issue a statement that wouldn’t set off a wildfire of press questions. Everybody just wants this thing to die, now.”

“How about the D.C. and Arlington PDs?” Dino asked. “Were they consulted?”

“Are you kidding? I wasn’t about to open up that can of worms, and Kerry wasn’t either. He’ll call them and make sure they either decline comment or give bland answers, not disagreeing with the statement, if the media persist in going to them.”

“God,” Dino said, “this whole business has made me appreciate how simple being an NYPD lieutenant is. Detect crime, solve crime, hand over to DA. That’s so nice, compared to what you have to go through in this town.”

“I agree entirely,” Holly said. “I hate getting involved with police departments. We’re not supposed to dabble in domestic affairs, and it always makes me nervous when I have to talk to them, and especially ask them for favors.”

They finished lunch and watched the game for the remainder of the afternoon.

Shortly after five o‘clock Stone’s phone buzzed once on his belt, and a little chime sounded. “E-mail,” he said, pulling out the phone. He looked at the message. “It’s the statement from the FBI.” He read aloud: “‘Shelley Bach, assistant director of criminal investigation of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, announced today that the investigation into the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Brixton Kendrick and the subsequent deaths of four women-Milly Hart, Muffy Brandon, White House Deputy Chief of Staff Fair Sutherlin, and staffer Charlotte Kirby-has been concluded. Mr. Kendrick’s death has been confirmed as a suicide, as has the death of Ms. Kirby. It has also been concluded that the murders of the other four women were committed by Charlotte Kirby, before she took her own life.