Jack Higgins - The White House Connection

'Ultimate power, Hedley, holds the final responsibility in this case. If the White House was involved, ultimate power lies with the President himself.' She glanced at her watch. 'Oh, it's late. Let's go.'

Hedley handed her into the Mercedes, went round and got behind the wheel. As he drove away he said, 'For God's sake, what are you saying?'

'I've secured an invitation to Chad Luther's party at his Long Island estate next week. The President is the guest of honour, I understand.'

Hedley swerved. 'My God, you wouldn't!'

She frowned, and then laughed. 'Oh, good heavens, Hedley, do you think I mean to assassinate him? Oh dear, oh dear, what must you think of me?' She shook her head. 'I haven't gone over the edge, Hedley. No, I meant that I could always discuss it with him.'

'Discuss it? You mean, lay the whole thing on the table, everything you've done? The killings? Hell, he'd have you arrested.'

'You don't see it, do you?' She lit a cigarette. 'It's his White House, so it's his mess. He doesn't want it out in the open any more than I do. This whole White House Connection business would be an enormous scandal. It could imperil his presidency. It would certainly damage the peace process in Ireland that he's worked so hard for. He has to unmask the Connection.' She gazed at Hedley. 'Or who knows what might leak to the press?'

Hedley was aghast. 'You mean, you'd blackmail the President? You'd be willing to go that far?' He shook his head. 'You've got the bad guys, Lady Helen. Let it go. Just let it be.'

'I can't,' she said. 'I'm on borrowed time, Hedley, much more so than you realize, and this is too important. So Long Island it is. If you're not happy with that, then don't come.'

'Hey, I don't deserve that.'

'I know you don't. You've been solid as a rock. My truest friend.'

'I don't need a snow job, that's all I'm saying.'

'So you'll come?'

He sighed. 'Where else would I go?' He changed gears. 'You're not still going to carry that Colt in your purse, are you?'

'Of course I am,' she said. 'Who knows.' She smiled. 'I might meet the Connection.'

Blake listened to what Dillon had to say. When the Irishman was finished, Blake said, 'Takes me back to my FBI days and the most-wanted list. The kind of killers who are obsessive.'

'So, you think the same person got Cohan as got the others?'

'Of course I do. I believe in coincidence as much as you do.'

'So that means the woman?' Dillon said.

'I suppose it does.'

'How does that fit in with FBI or CIA statistics? I mean, we know of women involved in terrorist movements in the past -the Baader-Meinhof gang in Germany, the IRA, the Palestinians – but it's still a minority classification.'

'So?'

'If we accept the idea, it means that a single woman is responsible for the total demise of the Sons of Erin. She's killed five people.'

'Sean, my friend,' Blake said, 'have you got a better suggestion?'

'Actually, no, but I think it would be useful if you put some more work in with your police friend, Captain Parker.'

'Such as?'

'I haven't the slightest idea, but cops are cops. They smell things other people don't. If he sniffs around what's left of the good Senator, there might be some useful information.'

'Okay, leave it with me.'

Blake rang off, sat there thinking about it and phoned the President. 'You've heard about Cohan?'

'I could hardly avoid it,' Cazalet said. 'It's all over CNN.'

'Can I see you?'

'Come straight up.'

The President sat at his desk in the Oval Office in shirt sleeves signing papers passed to him by the chief of staff. Thornton, also in shirt sleeves, looked up and grinned lopsidedly. 'You look glum, Blake, and no wonder.'

Cazalet leaned back. 'We'll finish these later. So, what now, Blake?'

'God knows,' Blake told him.

'You do think he was pushed?' Thornton asked.

'Of course he was pushed, or else he panicked and jumped.' Blake was exasperated. 'Come on, gentlemen, you know the background, you know the score. Do you really believe this was an accident, Cohan simply leaning too far out over his balcony?'

Cazalet said, 'So let's simplify it. There's somebody out there who's killed the five American members of this Sons of Erin.'

'Closed it down, I'd say,' Thornton put in.

'So what's left?' Cazalet asked.

'Jack Barry hiding out in Ulster, and the Connection here in Washington.'

Thornton said, 'But is this of any importance in view of what's happened?'

'Let's put it this way,' Blake said. 'The Connection's power didn't derive solely from the classified information which came his way. That information was only of use because he had people to act on it.'

'And they're all dead,' Cazalet said.

'Not Barry. He's still alive and kicking and more dangerous than any of them. With the Connection still in place and Barry out there as his gun hand, we've still got a big problem.'

'What do you suggest?' the President said.

'I thought I'd check Cohan's New York background. My friend, Captain Parker, might be able to come up with something.' Blake looked at Cazalet. 'And I think it's time for a full-bore investigation right here in the White House, Mr President.'

'Good. I agree,' Cazalet told him. 'You check on Cohan.' He turned to Thornton. 'And you see what you can come up with here, Henry. If there's a White House leak, then I think that's a matter for my chief of staff.'

'I'll get right on to it, Mr President,' Thornton said, and he and Blake walked out together.

As they moved along the corridor, Blake said, 'What do you intend?'

'God knows. We need to keep the lid on this. It's political dynamite. You do your thing, Blake. I'll start doing background checks on everyone in this place. I'll put the Secret Service on it.'

'Will you tell them why?'

'Good God, no, not at the moment. We'll just do a discreet check. If nothing shows up, we'll think again. Stay in touch.'

Blake moved on and Thornton watched him go, smiling, no fear in him at all. It was strange how excited he felt.

Blake reported the interview to Ferguson, and Ferguson spoke briefly to the Prime Minister on the phone.

'It really does seem to be getting out of hand, Brigadier.'

'I obviously take full responsibility for what happened last night.' Ferguson told him.

'I don't need that, Brigadier,' the Prime Minister said. 'Not your fault, not my fault, but let's get it sorted,' and he put the phone down.

Ferguson, at his desk, said to Hannah Bernstein and Dillon, east he isn't asking for a scapegoat.'

"What now, sir?' Hannah asked.

It was Dillon who provided the answer. 'It's all up to Blake, I'd say.'

'Yes, I think you could be right,' Ferguson said.

Thornton phoned through to Barry. ' Cazalet, Thornton and Blake Johnson just had a little talk in the Oval Office.'

'Should I get excited?' Barry asked. 'Just tell me.'

Thornton did. When he was finished, Barry said, 'Ah, that's tame stuff. What is there for them to find out about Cohan in New York? Was he into girls, did he use men's toilets too much? Come on!'

'I agree. It's a negative exercise. I don't think we have anything to worry about.'

'We?' Barry said. 'They know exactly where I am. They don't know a damn thing about you.'

'And it will stay that way as far as I'm concerned. So don't go getting any ideas in your head, Barry. Remember, even if they get to you, it won't help them get to me.'

'Bastard,' Barry told him, and Thornton rang off.

Barry lit a cigarette and moved to the window. The rain drove against it. One thing he hadn't told the Connection, of course, was the matter of Cohan's mobile and the fact that the mystery woman was linked to him. It was a bizarre kind of psychological umbilical cord. He turned and looked at his own mobile on the table. Strange how he almost wanted it to ring. To hear her voice.