Brad Thor - The Lions Of Lucerne

“The man was, but according to the report, not the woman,” said Shaw.

“Yeah, I know. I think he did the man first and the woman tried to run or something. I think he lost it and, if you’ll forgive the Cagneyism, filled her full of lead. The president was most likely brought to the farm via snowmobile from the scene of the kidnapping and then transferred into whatever vehicle or vehicles they used from there. Nothing was amiss or stolen in the house, so that’s why I think it was just used as a base.”

“So, cigarette smoke is your evidence?”

“No. While the killer was waiting for the rest of the kidnappers to get back from doing the job, he was smoking and probably watching TV in the family room. I think he was eating chocolate too.”

“Chocolate? Jesus, Harvath. First you tell me Senator Snyder goes both ways, then he likes to tie up and torture people who may or may not have been listening in on his phone calls and tailing him, and then your coup de grâce is that one of the kidnappers may have been eating candy at a scene that has yet to be determined was connected in any way with the president’s kidnapping?”

“The chocolate was Swiss.”

“So? There’s lots of Swiss chocolate in the U.S., and around the world, for that matter. I hate to be the one to burst your bubble, but after yodeling and watches, it’s probably one of the biggest things the Swiss are known for!”

“I disagree. I don’t think this chocolate is an export product. At least not for the States. It had German writing on it.”

“So? Maybe someone brought it back from a trip to Germany as a gift for the old couple.”

“But, the couple was Mormon and caffeine is another thing that is forbidden by their religion.”

“Listen, you’re in enough trouble as it is. Tell me you didn’t take anything from the crime scene. You left that chocolate right where you found it, right?”

Harvath couldn’t tell if Shaw was trying to lead him toward the answer he wanted to hear or if he really wanted the truth. Either way, something told Scot that he should not admit to having removed the chocolate from the crime scene. “No. I left it there.”

“Good. Then it’s the FBI’s problem and they can decide whether it’s relevant or not when they find it. I think, though, that you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. You’re very stressed out. I haven’t had a chance to read your fitness report. Did you see Dr. Helsabeck?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And, nothing. She says I’m fine. Says my head may feel scrambled for a few more days, but that’s pretty much it.”

“Are you taking any medications?”

“Only Tylenol. I haven’t been able to shake this headache.”

Shaw was quiet for a few moments while he thought. His fingertips were pressed together in an arch in front of his nose, with his thumbs supporting his chin. Scot could hear the ticking of a grandfather clock in the hall. Finally, Shaw broke the silence. “All right, I think there’s enough here to bring André Martin into protective custody while we look into this. Where is he?”

“He’s with Natalie Sperando at the Radisson Old Town in Alexandria.”

“Sperando?”

“She’s the one who introduced Martin to me. He was a very close friend of her brother’s.”

“How much does she know?”

“Pretty much everything Martin does.”

“Okay, so they’re both at the Radisson. Is that the one on Fairfax at Montgomery?”

“Yes, about fifteen minutes down from the Metro.”

“I know it. Okay, we’ll send a car to pick them up and bring them in. We have a safe house not too far from there that we can use. Were you able to ascertain whether they had talked to anyone else about this?”

“No, they assured me that they hadn’t. I stressed to them that anyone that they might have even hinted about this to could be in danger, and they said they were the only ones.”

“Good. That makes our job a lot easier. Now, I can’t promise you that this is going to help your case. At best, it’s all circumstantial and it’s André Martin’s word against Senator Snyder’s. I think he was smart to kick that piece of rope under the dryer. Forensics can place him in Snyder’s house and in the basement. That kid was thinking.

“As far as you’re concerned, I am going to do this quietly. You are in enough trouble as it is, and if this turns out to be a load of BS, you don’t need any more problems. I am going to ask you this once, and I want you to answer me honestly. Have you spoken with anyone other than Martin and Sperando about this?”

“No.”

“Are you sure that no one overheard you talking at the bar?”

“As sure as I can be.”

“Okay, good. Now, is there anything else you want to tell me about what happened in Park City? If you’ve got anything, now is the time to get it out.”

Harvath thought for a moment. “No. You know the full story.”

“Do you have any idea who or what this Star Gazer might be?”

“None at all.”

“For all we know,” said Shaw, “with all your astronomy gear, it could be you.”

“Me? What the hell do you-”

“God, calm down Harvath. I was just pulling your chain. Cripes, you’re irritable.”

“I’m sorry, Bill. I’m just a little on edge.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“So, what’s our next move?”

“Okay, I’ll get my laptop from the den for you and put a pot of coffee on. I want a full report, including any of the details you might have accidentally forgotten concerning Park City. If I am going to go to bat for you, I can’t have any surprises. I want all of it while it’s fresh in your mind. While you are working on that, I’ll get started on bringing Martin and Sperando in. Was there an established code for calling so they would know it was you?”

“I had her register under the name Cashman.”

“Fine. I’ll whip up some coffee and get the laptop. In the meantime, you can use the phone on the end table there to call them.”

Harvath did as he was told. He explained to Natalie that either he or Shaw would be calling back shortly with details on the pickup. He told her that they would be taken to a nearby safe house and André placed in protective custody, pending a preliminary investigation. She had done the right thing calling him, and she should be proud. They were going to be all right.

Ten minutes later, Shaw appeared with a mug of coffee and his laptop. As Scot began typing his report, Shaw headed for his den. Closing the doors behind him, he crossed the distance to the phone in three fast strides. He picked it up and dialed the number in McLean from memory.

“Marsha?” asked Shaw, after a sleepy voice answered the number he had dialed.

“You’ve got the wrong number,” said the voice, and the call was disconnected.

Shaw sat patiently and waited behind the thick, locked doors of his study. On a bank of monitors next to his desk, he watched an image of Agent Harvath diligently typing his report. The small hidden camera had him perfectly in frame. Three minutes later, Shaw’s private line rang and he depressed the button to activate the scrambler hidden within the desk.

“It’s an odd time for a phone call,” said Shaw.

“This is when the rates are the lowest though,” answered the voice.

Each of the parties’ authentication codes completed, the conversation could now begin. They spoke freely, knowing that the lines were secure and the scramblers would prevent anyone from eavesdropping.

“You’d better have something good, Shaw, to call me this late at night. My wife and I were sound asleep.”

“I do, Senator.”

“Well, get on with it.”