David Baldacci - The Sixth Man

But Edgar Roy’s specialty was omniscience.

He was tasked to know everything. And the man had!

Bunting never expected to find another Edgar Roy, a genetic freak to end all genetic freaks. A perfect memory and an astonishing ability to see how all pieces came together. He wished that the man could live forever.

His phone buzzed. He looked annoyed but answered. “What?” He hesitated. “All right, send him in.”

It was Avery. The young man had finally gotten his hair cut, but he had never learned how to dress properly. He looked like he had just woken up at his frat house after a keg party. But he was smart. Not an E-class mind but certainly useful.

“I see you’re back from Maine.”

“Just this morning. I wanted to tell you that I followed Carla Dukes home two nights ago. I wanted to speak with her about some issues.”

“Okay. Did you?”

“No, because I noticed someone following me.”

Bunting sat up straighter. “What? Who?”

“I didn’t get a good look at him because it was dark. I nearly ran over him while I was trying to get away.” He paused. “But I think it was that investigator, Sean King.”

“Sean King? What was he doing there?”

“Apparently following Dukes and/or me.”

“Did he see you?”

“Not clearly, I’m sure of that.”

“Did he get your license plate number?”

“Probably, but I switched the plates out with a pair of fake ones. They’ll lead nowhere.”

“I’m impressed, Avery.”

“Thank you, sir. I just thought you should know.”

“Is that all?”

Avery looked nervous. “Actually, no. The Wall backup is bordering on cataclysmic.”

“That I already know. I’m recalling a pair of E-Fives to duty. And after I got blindsided by Foster I arranged a phone call with the president to reassure him. I just finished it. That will give us some time. If Foster tries to go over me now she’ll look pretty stupid.”

“But that won’t last.”

“Of course it won’t last.”

“But if Edgar Roy is proven innocent and we get him back on the job, all of our problems go away.”

Bunting rose, went over to the window, and looked out, his hands stuffed into his trouser pockets. “That’s not necessarily true.”

“Why?”

He whirled around. “Do you really think the US government will let Edgar actually go to trial?”

Avery said slowly, “But what’s the alternative?”

Bunting turned back around and watched a flock of birds heading south for the winter.

I wish I could fly, he thought. I wish I could get the hell out of here.

“What do you think, Avery?” he said over his shoulder.

“They’ll kill him?”

Bunting sat back down and switched topics. “So King was in Maine two nights ago following you. What about Maxwell?”

“She wasn’t with him.”

“And what have their movements been since?”

Avery took a small step back. “Surveillance was lost for a bit but it has now been regained.”

Bunting rose out of his seat once more. “Lost for how long?”

“A few hours.”

Bunting snapped his fingers. “More precise than that, Avery.”

“Eight hours and four minutes. But now they’re headed, at least it seems, to Edgar Roy’s farm.”

“Did it occur to you that when we lost sight of them they might have been going somewhere that could have been highly enlightening?”

“Yes, sir, but I wasn’t in charge of that task.”

“Fine. I am now making it your task to ensure that surveillance is not lost again.” He refocused. “The six bodies at the farm?”

“Yes?”

“Not one ID made? Strange, isn’t it?” Bunting’s expression signaled that it was far more than strange; it was impossible.

“Yes, you would think they would be on some database somewhere.”

“And there’s something else.”

“Sir?”

“The number.”

“Number?”

“Of bodies. Now go do your job.”

Avery looked very confused as he closed the door behind him.

Bunting sat back in his chair, swiveled around, and stared out the window.

Six bodies. Not four, not five, but six.

Ordinarily, Bunting was a man who embraced numbers. He loved statistics, analysis, conclusions based on solid building blocks of data. But the number six was starting to haunt him. He didn’t like it at all.

Six bodies. The E-Six Program.

That hit very close to home.

Someone was really playing with him.

CHAPTER

28

THE TRIP to Edgar Roy’s home took a number of hours. Michelle drove, as usual, while Sean stared moodily out the window.

“Are you curious about what Kelly Paul did while she was out of the country?” he asked.

“Of course I am. But she has a point about focusing on the investigation into her brother. He’s the one facing the death sentence. Not her.”

He didn’t seem to hear this. “And she never said how her stepfather died.”

“Easy enough to check, but that seems a little far afield, Sean.”

He turned to look at her. “Unless it’s all connected.”

“You’re talking a long time period, then.”

He looked back out the window. “Why would a woman like that move to a ramshackle house in the middle of nowhere? She’s not farming. And her country accent was a bit too well done.”

“Well, she did grow up in Virginia. And they do have accents down here,” drawled Michelle.

“Lot of questions,” said Sean absently.

“What do you think about her advice with the Bureau?”

“It was good actually. Riley is a lawyer for the defense. You just can’t detain her indefinitely. In fact…”

He took out his cell phone and punched in a number. “Still no answer. Okay, let’s do this the hard way.”

He keyed in another number. “Agent Murdock? Sean King here. What? Yeah, we took your advice and went home. But we’re coming back. But that’s not why I’m calling. You’re holding the defense counsel in a case you’re investigating. That breaks about a dozen ethical and other laws I can think of off the top of my head. I either hear from her in five minutes that she’s free and on her way to Martha’s Inn, or the next time you see me it’ll be on CNN talking about Bureau overreach.” Sean paused as the other man said something. “Yeah, well, try me. And you now have four minutes.”

He clicked off.

Michelle glanced at him. “And what did he say?”

“Basic blustery bullshit.” He looked at his watch. Ten seconds past the deadline Sean’s phone buzzed.

“Hello, Megan, how are you doing?” He paused. “Excellent. I thought Agent Murdock would see it my way. We’re down in Virginia but we’ll be heading back up very soon. Go to Martha’s Inn and stay there. No visitors. Do nothing. And if Murdock comes near you again, call me.”

He clicked off and put the phone in his pocket.

“What have they been asking her?”

“She didn’t say. From the background noise I think she was in a Bucar getting a ride back to the inn.”

“Do you think they told her about Hilary?”

“No, at least she didn’t mention it.”

“Wait till she finds out I was the one who probably shot her.”

“Michelle, you don’t know if it was you, so stop driving yourself crazy about it.”

“Easy for you to say.”

He started to make a retort but then stopped and patted her arm. “Actually, it is easy for me to say. I’m sorry.”

“So when are we heading back up to Maine?”

“As soon as we check out Roy’s farm and talk to the local authorities.”