David Rosenfelt - Dog Tags

I put her on the speakerphone, and the three of us ask Cindy at least fifty questions, all of which she painfully answers. She ends it with, “Andy, I’m sorry I doubted you. Thousands of people could have died today.”

“All to make somebody rich.”

Laurie, Billy, and I watch CNN until three o’clock in the morning, and their coverage of the incident is constant. It takes a few hours for them to get confirmation of Willie’s identity, and a while longer for them to connect him to me and the Zimmerman case.

Benson calls at about two o’clock, to thank me and tell me that Colonel William Mickelson was arrested at Dulles Airport, just before he could board a flight to the Cayman Islands. Chaplin was taken into custody two hours before that.

“How did you know it was Mickelson?” he asks.

“I didn’t know for sure, but it made sense. He had access to the conspirators in Iraq, and he was smart and sophisticated enough to deal with Landon as an equal.”

“That’s it?”

“No. When I talked to Santiago, I asked him who the target was that day in Iraq. He said that he didn’t know, that it was a decision way, way above his pay grade. Santiago was a direct report to Erskine, so he wouldn’t describe him that way. Mickelson was the next one up the ladder, and he was in Iraq that day.”

“Not bad” is Benson’s grudging admission.

“Also, when I had talked to Mickelson, I told him that one of the soldiers was coming in to talk. He assumed it was Santiago, even though Greer and Iverson were also missing. It’s something I remembered today; I should have done so earlier. And Mickelson knew from me that the state police were going to be protecting Santiago.”

Benson promises to call in the morning to resolve the other aspects of our deal, and we get off the phone. Laurie has overheard the conversation, and asks, “Are there any spoken words that you don’t remember?” She asks it with a smile on her face, which is good.

Billy realizes that he doesn’t have a place to stay, since his rented apartment has long since been re-rented to someone else. I offer him an upstairs bedroom, and he gratefully accepts. He and Milo go trudging upstairs, and Laurie, Tara, and I head to our own bedroom.

Before we go to sleep, I call Cindy back to find out what hospital Willie has been taken to. Then I call and wake his wife, Sondra, to tell her what happened. She’s understandably very upset, and since one of my strengths is not talking to upset women, I put Laurie on the phone.

It’s four o’clock when we finally get to bed, and thirty seconds later I’m asleep.

Without setting an alarm, we’re all up by seven thirty in the morning. I call the hospital and am pleasantly surprised to actually get Willie on the phone. “You’re a goddamn national hero,” I say.

“Bigger than that guy who landed the plane in the Hudson?”

“Much bigger. You talk to Sondra?”

“Yeah. Man, how do you talk to women when they’re crying? I can never figure that out.”

“It can’t be done,” I say. “I’ve tried a bunch of different approaches, but it simply cannot be done.”

“They want me to go on the Today show. From right here in the hospital.”

“Are you going to do it?”

He laughs. “What do you think?”

My guess is that Willie is about to break the all-time record for television appearances. I tell him that Laurie and I are going to fly up later today to see him, and we’ll bring Sondra with us.

“Cool,” he says. “Thanks.”

“No, Willie. Thank you.”

Benson holds a televised news conference during which he reveals very few of the details, citing an ongoing investigation. He does credit Willie’s heroism, reveals Mickelson’s arrest for murder and about a hundred other counts, and unequivocally states that Billy is innocent.

Benson calls soon after and tells me that the second part of our deal is arranged. I am going to threaten to file suit against the Department of Homeland Security for false arrest, even though they’re not the people that arrested Billy. They are then going to avoid the suit by settling for two and a half million dollars.

Because it’s under the banner of Homeland Security, everything is going to be classified and under seal, so no one will have to answer any questions about it. As Billy’s lawyer I’m thrilled with it; as a citizen, less so.

“Plus ten percent for my fee,” I say.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he points out, but promises to get it done.

“I’m a pain in the ass with questions,” I say.

“Answering questions was not part of our deal.”

“I’m going to ask them anyway. Was Erskine in on the explosion in Iraq?”

He hesitates, as if deciding what he can tell me and what he can’t. Finally, “No; he must have found out about it from one of his men, probably Chambers. But he was trying to profit from it.”

“Blackmail,” I say, more a statement than a question.

Benson tells me that Erskine was trying to play it both ways. The FBI was threatening to charge him with the Iraq bombing, but he was holding them off, first by giving them M’s identity, and then by promising to name the top guys, though he only knew about Mickelson, not Landon.

“But first he wanted his money, and he had documents showing that Mickelson had arranged to get his hands on the missile that was to be used in Everett. He hadn’t shared them with us, or told us about Mickelson. I don’t even know if he had documents at all.”

“But that’s what was supposed to be in the envelope?” I ask.

“Yes. But of course they didn’t trust Erskine, with or without the envelope, so they killed him.”

“And you didn’t trust him, so you had him followed that night,” I say.

“Not our finest hour. Are we done here?”

“Almost,” I say. “Who was the bomb in Iraq meant for? The oil minister, or Freeman and Bryant?”

“All of the above. The minister was the key, because that would move the price of oil. Freeman and Bryant were an extra bonus, because they had figured out what Chaplin was doing, and were likely to expose it.”

“Last one,” I promise. “Why did you plant the juror?”

“It was a mistake,” he admits. “And it was my mistake. I just couldn’t take a chance that Zimmerman could be convicted. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”

Billy comes back from a walk with Milo, so I let Benson off the phone. Billy wants to talk about my fee, and the fact that he can’t pay it. He also is unsure how he is going to make money to live, though he has ruled out a return to canine thievery.

“What would you do if you had a lot of money?” I ask.

He thinks about it for a few moments. “Probably become a private investigator.” Then he smiles. “And take on Willie as a partner.”

“I don’t think you can count on Willie for that,” I say, “but you can get your own shingle ready.”

He asks what I mean, so I tell him. Suffice it to say, he’s pleased. “Man, am I glad Pete is your friend.”

“Do me a favor?” I ask.

“Anything.”

“Even after you’re a millionaire, make him buy the beer.”

CHAPTER 93

KATHY BRYANT IS GOING TO BE RICHER THAN BILLY ZIMMERMAN. I instruct her to tell her civil attorney to be very aggressive with their lawsuit, that I know for a fact the government will never allow it to go to trial, and will settle for major dollars.

So she’ll be rich, but it will be a long time before she’ll be anything close to happy.

At the very least, though, she’ll be happier than Jonathan Chaplin. He’s confessed, and is fully cooperating with the Justice Department, helping them to understand the financial intricacies behind the scheme.