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  Ted Lazenby flipped through the pages of the address book, smiling thinly from time to time on finding a name which registered with him, while Kelly sat concentrating on a spot on the wall above his desk, trying to force her mind not to stray into thinking about Frank and Jeff Morris. Abruptly, Lazenby sat upright in his chair and stared at the page in front of him in apparent disbelief. His reaction was so marked that Kelly sat up in her own chair in response.

  ‘Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,’ he muttered.

  ‘Sir?’

  Lazenby thrust the page across the desk to her, indicating a name with his forefinger. Kelly read it.

  ‘It doesn’t ring a bell.’

  Lazenby stared at her for a moment, then nodded.

  ‘That’s right. Of course. I haven’t had time to fill you in. You’ve been too busy with this mess. This guy showed up recently in another context.’

  ‘This Hamid Marfrela guy?’

  ‘Yes. Hamid Marfrela is a low-level member of the Lebanese diplomatic mission.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ Kelly said. ‘Lucia Benoni had Lebanese family. Most of these foreign names we’re running across in the address book are probably Lebanese.’

  ‘Yes, but unfortunately, that’s not all,’ Lazenby replied. ‘He is also the man Phil Hammond photographed going in and out of the Sons of the Flag compound in Oregon. We had nothing on him, but State was able to make him. We haven’t followed up on him yet.’

  Kelly sat back and exhaled deeply.

  ‘This is getting worse by the minute. What do you want me to do? Should we give Marfrela priority, interview him first?’

  Lazenby looked intently at the ceiling, then back at Kelly.

  ‘Interview him, my ass. We’d get nowhere. He’s a diplomat, Kelly. We’d have the Lebanese ambassador all over us, not to mention the State Department, before he answered question one.’

  ‘But, Sir, we can’t just…’

  ‘Get a warrant and turn his place over. Then we’ll talk to him. And do it today.’

  Kelly stared at the Director in disbelief.

  ‘A search warrant?’

  Lazenby turned his chair around to face her directly.

  ‘Yes, a search warrant. Any questions?’

  Kelly hesitated.

  ‘Well, yes, Director. First, with all due respect, what would I be looking for?’

  ‘Anything. Evidence linking him to the murder.’

  ‘OK. Second, what do I use for probable cause? The fact that his name appears in her address book along with about sixty others? Any magistrate in the Washington area would laugh in my face.’

  ‘You don’t go through district court. You don’t go through the normal channels at all. Not in this case. You go to the special court. They’re a little more understanding about the realities of law enforcement over there.’

  Kelly rubbed her eyes.

  ‘Director, the special court is for cases involving national security. This is a domestic murder inquiry in which the Bureau may not even have jurisdiction.’

  Lazenby made a visible effort to calm himself.

  ‘Kelly, let me summarize the situation for you, as I see it. Just follow along, tell me if I get anything wrong, then tell me how you react to it.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘The President of the United States is having an affair with a foreign national, Lucia Benoni, who has strong Lebanese connections. The United States is not exactly on the best of terms with Lebanon. Lucia Benoni turns up dead in Washington, the victim of a homicide, in an empty apartment rented by a Lebanese shell corporation which consists of nothing but an address in Delaware. When found, Lucia Benoni is in possession of a special pass which allows her pretty much free access into the White House, a pass issued to her, in all probability, at the personal request of the President. When her address book is examined, we find the name of Hamid Marfrela, a Lebanese diplomat. There is a serious possibility that Mr. Marfrela was sharing Ms. Benoni’s sexual favors with the President. There is also a serious possibility that Mr. Marfrela killed Ms Benoni. Lastly, we find that Mr. Marfrela has been a regular visitor at the Headquarters of the Sons of the Flag, an extreme White supremacist organization whose avowed goal is the overthrow of the United States Government. This is obviously not one of Mr. Marfrela’s usual duties as a diplomat.’

  Lazenby spread his arms out wide in front of him.

  ‘Do you see where I’m going with this?’

  With mounting anxiety, Kelly began to see all too clearly.

  ‘Blackmail, or a conspiracy of some kind. Maybe even a direct breach of national security.’

  ‘Right. Several possibilities come to mind, Kelly, and none of them is very appealing. We can’t let the grass grow on this. The special court will back us up. I’ll call the Agency and let Masterson know what’s going on.’

  ‘What about State?’

  ‘We’ll tell them too, of course – once it’s too late for them to interfere.’

  Kelly shook her head.

  ‘There’ll be hell to pay, Director.’

  ‘There will be anyway,’ Lazenby replied tersely. ‘All we can do is make the most of the little time we have before the shit hits the fan. If Marfrela is there when you go in, place him under arrest. If there’s nothing to arrest him for, we’ll apologize later.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Kelly said.

  ‘It’s my responsibility, Kelly. I’ll keep you out of trouble.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Take Lieutenant Morris with you, since it’s still his case. For the moment, anyway. I have a feeling that’s about to change. And take a show of force with you. Marfrela is to be considered armed and dangerous. Understand?’

  ‘I’ll get right on it,’ Kelly said, making for the door.

  ‘Kelly…’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Have you fired a weapon since… since New York?’

  She had her back to him. She closed her eyes for an instant, opened them again, then slowly turned back to face him.

  ‘At the range, yeah. Several times. They signed off on me.’

  Late at night and alone, the first time, she added silently. So nobody would see me. Just in case something went wrong. Nothing had. She hadn’t cried. Her hands were steady. Her aim was as good as ever. But that was at the range, where the targets could not shoot back.

  ‘Are you OK with this?’

  ‘I’m fine, Sir,’ she replied firmly.

  Lazenby nodded, not taking his eyes off her.

  ‘OK,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I’ll call in as soon as I can,’ she said, then turned away abruptly and left.

  ‘And may the Lord have mercy on us all,’ Lazenby said under his breath. He picked up his phone, called Steffie Walinsky at the White House, and asked for an urgent meeting with the President. The secretary told him he could see the President immediately after a staff meeting which was just due to begin.

  At about the same time, Harold Philby telephoned Martha Graylor’s office, and was told that he could speak to her immediately after the same meeting.

  13

  THE WORD SPREAD quickly through the White House that the President had called a meeting of his senior staff. Ever since the Lucia Benoni story had broken, there had been a sense of unease. The staff had been through similar things before, of course, and the surfacing of new allegations was not exactly a shock. But it was always a distraction, and never easy to deal with. The President and the First Lady would be tense, and it would be the staff’s job to hold things together, and find ways to put the necessary spin on the situation. Martha Graylor, who bore the brunt of this responsibility, had convened the meeting, and was speaking with each staff member, as he or she arrived, ensuring that they understood the need for confidentiality. It would be a short meeting, she said. The President had to meet with the Director of the FBI as soon as possible. His only purpose was to reassure everybody that it was business as usual. Vice President Ellen Trevathan was the last to arrive. Avoiding Martha, s
he took a seat in a corner without a word to anyone.

  Steve Wade entered the Oval Office with a cheerful smile. The First Lady was with him. She was not smiling. She was holding his hand in a grip which the President intended to suggest a gesture of solidarity, but actually looked more like a wrestling hold. The assembled staff stood as they entered. Wade signaled with his hand that they should all sit, pulled out a chair for the First Lady, and stood by her side.

  ‘I want to thank you all for being here this morning,’ he said. ‘I know you all have a lot of work to do, and I won’t keep you long. There is no way to tell you how much I appreciate your friendship and your loyalty. I could not do the job I was elected to do without you, and it is for this reason that I feel I must speak with you today. As you all know, the press has started in on us again. They are accusing me of having some kind of relationship with a woman called Lucia Benoni.’

  A muted chorus of loyal boos ran around the room. The President smiled gratefully.

  ‘We’ve been through this kind of thing before, and we probably will again before our work in this office is done. At least this one has an interesting name.’

  He paused to allow a ripple of polite laughter to die down.

  ‘Now, I have denied these allegations categorically in the press. You all know that. But you deserve more than that. You deserve to hear it from me in person. I want to assure each one of you personally that there is no truth in the allegations at all, and I am confident that they will soon disappear. Hell, we don’t even know if this Benoni woman exists. If she does, why hasn’t she come forward? She may turn out to be the product of someone’s imagination.’

  A hand was held up at the back of the room.

  ‘David?’

  ‘Mr. President, if we’re asked, is there any reason to think this is down to the opposition?’

  ‘It’s quite likely, in my opinion,’ the President replied, to murmurs of outrage. ‘We’ve been aware of this so-called ‘Committee’ the opposition has had for some time now. We believe they are operating under the cover of a so-called ‘think tank’, the Wilson Foundation. They are just a bunch of losers with no ideas of their own, their only agenda is to bring down those of us who are trying to get things done. They were probably responsible for some of the stories which were being spread during the election. These people can’t stand the fact that we won, and that we are successful. They resent the fact that the American people know and appreciate the fine job we’re doing. So it would not surprise me at all to find out that they had some involvement with this. And, if you feel it appropriate to express that opinion to someone who may ask, without attributing it to me, I certainly have no objection.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr. President,’ David said quietly.

  The President waited for any more questions, but there was nothing but an uncomfortable silence.

  ‘Well, again, thank you for coming. The First Lady and I appreciate it very much. I just want to add how grateful I am for Julia’s love and loyalty. I’m sure you all understand how difficult it is for her. Without her standing by me, I just don’t know what I would do.’

  There was a final ripple of applause, and the staff began to file out. Julia Wade stood immediately and left the room quickly, without so much as a glance at her husband. The President’s secretary came in from her office, and sought out Martha Graylor.

  ‘Martha, your office called. There’s an urgent message for you.’

  ‘Thanks, Steffie. Mr. President, do you need me?’

  ‘No. Go ahead.’

  He turned to Steffie.‘Is Director Lazenby here?’

  ‘Not yet, Mr. President. He’s been held up for a couple of minutes, but he’s on his way.’

  ‘Show him in as soon as he arrives.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  As soon as they were alone, Steve Wade gestured to Ellen Trevathan to take a seat in one of the armchairs facing his desk.

  ‘Well, I think that went pretty well, don’t you? It’s important to keep all our people involved, I think.’

  ‘How is Julia doing?’ the Vice President asked.

  The President did not relish the question. He tried unsuccessfully to make light of it.

  ‘Oh, you know Julia. She has to worry herself to death about everything.’

  ‘Not without reason. The point of my question was to ask whether you can rely on her.’

  Steve Wade laughed incredulously.

  ‘What the hell do you mean? Of course I can rely on her.’

  ‘It’s going to look very bad if she…’

  Ellen allowed the words to die away.

  ‘If what? Come on, Ellen, you know better than that. I’ve already told you, we’re working things out. I know she’s had a rough time. I’ve apologized till I’m blue in the face, and I’m trying to make it up to her.’

  ‘Fine,’ Ellen said. ‘I just …’

  Before she could continue, the intercom rang. The President pushed the speakerphone button.

  ‘Martha’s on her way over,’ Steffie said. ‘She says it’s very urgent.’

  Martha was as white as a sheet. She ignored Linda Samuels, who was just coming on duty, as the two passed in the corridor, causing Linda to turn and stare after her in surprise. She entered the President’s office, and more or less collapsed into the armchair next to Ellen’s in front of his desk. Ellen, who was just on the point of leaving, saw Martha’s face and decided to remain unless Steve Wade asked her to go. He did not. He seemed almost unaware of Martha’s agitation.

  ‘What’s up?’ he inquired in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Steffie said you had something urgent.’

  ‘Mr. President,’ Martha stammered, getting the words out with difficulty, ‘I just spoke with Harold at the Post…’

  The President seemed irritated. ‘Oh, for God’s sake. What do they want now?’

  ‘Harold asked whether we had any comment on a story they’re going to run tomorrow. Do you remember, a few days ago, the Washington Police found the body of a young woman? She had been shot through the head.’

  ‘No,’ Wade replied. ‘I guess I missed that one. Why would we have any comment on that?’

  ‘I remember reading about it,’ Ellen said. ‘It was an execution-style murder over in North West. The police didn’t know her identity.’

  ‘Right,’ Martha said. ‘Well, they do now. According to the Post, the dead woman was Lucia Benoni.’

  There was a long silence. Martha held her head in her hands. Steve Wade looked away sharply, and seemed to be fighting for breath. Ellen watched with fascination as he made a massive effort to control himself. He stood very slowly, and made his way from the office to his private bathroom. It was several minutes before he emerged again, the remains of the water he had splashed over his head still dripping down his face. The two women did not speak in his absence.

  ‘Are they sure about this?’ Wade asked.

  ‘Harold said it was from a highly reliable source. The police were withholding the information until they could verify it, but they’re expecting it to be released some time tomorrow. He also said the Bureau was involved.’

  The President looked up.

  ‘The Bureau? Why would they be involved?’

  ‘I don’t know, Sir.’

  ‘Ted hasn’t said anything to me.’

  ‘I don’t know, Sir.’

  Martha seemed on the verge of tears. Wade stood and circled his desk once or twice. Watching him, Ellen noticed that his expression gradually became less grave. She could have sworn that, for just a second, he actually smiled to himself.

  ‘OK, then, here we go,’ the President said eventually. ‘Of course, it’s all very sad. We feel very sorry for Lucia Benoni, whoever she may have been, blah, blah, blah. But, at the same time, and obviously we shouldn’t say this directly, but at the same time, we also feel some relief that this story is now going to go away. Perhaps we might even hint at the possible role of the press in this young woman’s tragic situation, evils of irres
ponsible reporting, et cetera, et cetera. I leave that up to you.’

  Ellen could hardly catch her breath. She looked at Martha, who was staring vacantly at the President.

  ‘Why do I have the feeling it’s not quite that simple?’ Ellen asked.

  ‘I have no idea,’ Wade replied. ‘It seems simple enough to me. I take it the Post isn’t actually accusing me of killing her. Not that it would surprise me if they did. But in this case, I believe I probably have an alibi.’

  Martha looked up.

  ‘Mr. President, there’s something else.’

  Wade raised his arms inquiringly.

  ‘The Post says the police found an S-pass in her purse.’

  Ellen swore sharply under her breath. She turned her head away in a sudden fury, and jumped to her feet, ready to storm from the room. But as she did so, Steffie Walinsky entered the office, closely followed by Ted Lazenby. Steffie immediately noted the tension in the air, and regretted not having used the intercom before interrupting.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr. President. Do you need the Director to wait for a moment?’

  ‘No,’ Steve Wade replied, almost savagely. ‘He’s right on time. Come on in, Mr. Director.’

  Lazenby realized at once that the President had already been told most of the news he had come to impart. As soon as Steffie had retreated to the safety of her office, the President turned on him violently.

  ‘Why wasn’t I told?’

  ‘We are still in the process of verifying the facts, Mr. President. Please understand, this is not really our case. It’s basically a D.C. Police matter. Chief Bryson called us in when they found… I take it you know about…?’

  ‘The S-pass, yes,’ the President shouted. ‘Yes, I know about it as of about thirty seconds ago. Apparently, I’m the last fucking person in America to find out. Can you explain why the Washington fucking Post had this information before I did?’