Стюарт Вудс - Choppy Water

Claire suddenly produced a cell phone that had not rung. “Yes?” She listened some more. “Thank you.” She hung up and turned to the others. “A maid at the Hay-Adams Hotel, across the street, found a sniper’s rifle with a silencer attached, in a supply closet in the hotel.

As she spoke, other agents entered the room and closed the blinds on the Hay-Adams side of the White House.

“Does this mean I aged twenty years for nothing?” Holly asked.

Stone went over to the Hay-Adams with Bill Wright. They were walked to an upper-floor guest room by a Secret Service agent and found a suitcase lying on the bed, with a broken-down rifle fitted into it. A technician was dusting the room for fingerprints.

“Any prints on the weapon?” Stone asked.

“None,” the tech replied. “Wiped clean. All we’ve found in here are the fingerprints of the maid.”

“How is the silencer made?”

“A soft-drink can filled with sawdust. It might be effective on the first round, but not after that. Too insubstantial.”

“Then the shooter is very confident of his skill,” Stone said, looking out the window toward the White House across the street. “Anybody see him at check-in?”

The agent spoke up. “Tallish man in an overcoat and hat, paid cash in advance for one night. Used a false name. We’ve got nothing.”

“I’m tired of having nothing,” Bill said.

“How was the rifle discovered?”

“A maid found it when she removed a stack of towels from the closet.”

“How did it get in here?”

“She called a bellman for help because the case was too heavy for her.”

“Did the bellman show him to the room?”

“Yes. The man left a twenty-dollar tip. I guess the bellman was looking at the money, instead of his face. The man was of no help to us.”

“You’ve got nothing,” Stone said to Bill. Stone looked at his watch. “I’m late for lunch.”

“I’ll drive you over there,” Bill said.

Stone walked in to find Holly, Sam Meriwether, and all three Lees at the table. “My apologies.” He took a seat and started on his salad.

“Tell us about the gun.”

“A Remington 700, a very popular hunting rifle. Serial number filed off, no prints.”

“So you’ve got nothing?” Holly asked.

“That’s exactly what we’ve got. It sounds worse when you say it.”

“Have they done everything?”

“The police officer inside you would be satisfied.”

“Did his room have a view of this room?”

“It did.”

Bill Wright was invited in to give his report, which was identical to Stone’s.

When he had gone, Kate said, “I invited him in so he wouldn’t feel left out. Have you left anything out, Stone?”

“Only a suspicion.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“It’s all a little too simple. A man checks in with a suitcase, leaves it in a closet, where it would surely be found in due course, then leaves. He couldn’t have hit Holly through that window unless she was deliberately standing close to it.”

“Why would I do that?” Holly asked.

“My very point.”

“Why would they make a plan for nothing?” Kate asked.

“Because they have another plan, and they want the police to believe they’ve been thwarted. They may also have wanted to send the Secret Service a message that they can’t be easily shaken off.”

“Did you share your theories with Bill?”

“Yes, on the way back here.”

“What was his reaction?”

“A sort of grunt.”

“Did you think he came to the same conclusion?”

“I doubt it. Bill was not trained as a crime solver; that isn’t the Secret Service’s mission.”

“What did the police think?”

“No policemen were there. I’m not sure if they had been called yet. Hotel security would have known to call the Secret Service. That done, they may not have bothered with the police, they’d think the Secret Service would involve them.”

“Any press?”

“I doubt if hotel security would call them. It isn’t the sort of publicity they seek.”

Kate changed the subject, and no one resisted.

After lunch, Kate took Holly into her study and retrieved some notes from her desk drawer. “Now that you’re the president-elect, there are some things I can share with you that might be of assistance after you’ve taken the oath.”

“I’d be grateful for any advice,” Holly said.

“You may be sorry you said that,” Kate replied. She pulled a fat briefcase from under her desk and handed it across. “These are files on every congressman and senator: short bio, legislative record, photos of him or her and spouse, peccadillos. If you can commit them to memory, you’ll impress the hell out of everybody.”

“Thank you, I’ll try.”

Kate took her through every position, foreign and domestic, that her administration held, discussed the work of the intelligence services at length, talked about the military hierarchy, and supplied the same information about them that she had about Congress.

Kate then placed two fat volumes on her desk. “Here’s a digest of the most recent national budget we’ve passed. By the way, everything I’m giving you will also be available on your computer; you’ll be issued the latest in desktops and laptops, all with encryption.”

Another thick book described the nation’s nuclear arsenal and its capabilities. “This should not leave the White House,” Kate said.

“I’ve already sent your transition team a list of the White House staff, along with recommendations for which ones you should retain, if you can. A lot of them will want to go make some money. Eight or even four years is a long time for a family to live on a White House salary.”

“I can understand that,” Holly said. “State Department salaries are no better.”

“I’ve set up the room next to this one as a temporary study for you, and I’ve assigned you a very knowledgeable assistant, starting tomorrow morning. She’ll help you with the computer system, especially, and she knows everybody here and on the Hill quite well. Her name is Barbara Tanner. She’s the sort of person you’ll want to keep on, so be nice to her.”

They spent another two hours at all this, and Holly went back to her room for a nap before drinks, feeling a little weighed down with information.

Sykes sat at his dining table and surveyed his people. “Where’s Bess?” one of them asked.

“Good question. Not here yet.”

“That’s troubling.”

Bess strode in from the living room. “Don’t be troubled. Traffic accident on the road, that’s all.” She pulled up a chair.

“Good,” Sykes said. “How’d it go?”

“As planned,” somebody said. “As far as we can tell, they bought it, hook, line, and sinker. They’ll be wasting a lot of manpower guarding the hotel.”

“Where’s Eugene?” Sykes asked.

“Holed up at the apartment you rented. He’s moved in.”

“Good. We want him to be seen around the building and the neighborhood, to become a part of the wallpaper, so to speak.”

“He moved in with two suitcases of clothes that he’s worn once or twice.”

“Good. When he leaves we don’t want it to look like he’s fled the scene. We’ve sent him a couple of boxes of books and some little stuff to make it look like he’s staying awhile.Has he slept there yet?”

“Tonight’s his first night.”

“She’s not going to stay there forever,” Sykes said.

“We’ve caught sight of her working at a desk for periods of time. It’s a better shot from the roof than the hotel window.”

Bess was taking all this in, but not asking any questions. If Sykes felt she needed to know something, he’d tell her. She knew him well enough by now to know that.