The jonathan quinn enrag.., p.76
The Jonathan Quinn Enraged Box Set, page 76
part #5 of Jonathan Quinn Series
Files eleven and twelve were typed notes—addresses, names, thoughts—ending with a list:
N. Lionel
Kablukov
BJD
Mossad
Jude Eisner
Lon/Tec
Darvot
SVGX
Klaus Pounder
Herman Raver
P12
Most of the names were familiar to Quinn. Many referred to intelligence agencies, some associated with a specific country and some not, while the individuals he recognized also played in their world. So what was this? Peter’s suspect list? That was the first thing that came to Quinn’s mind.
They could come back to it later, though, so he nodded to Orlando that he was ready to move on.
File thirteen was the beginning of the pictures. The first five had an embossed stamp in the lower right corner that Quinn guessed meant they were official. Each was a different shot of the crash, victims and all. Miranda had apparently been sitting in the backseat on the passenger side, which was probably the only reason she remained recognizable. In contrast, the face of the woman who had been sitting in front of her was a bloody and unrecognizable pulp, most likely because it had been bashed repeatedly against the dash and windshield.
Not surprisingly, the picture featuring the driver avoided any angles that would reveal his fatal wound, and instead concentrated on his crumpled form.
File eighteen was another crime scene photo, only this one was missing the official seal. It showed the center section of the backseat cushion, complete with bullet hole. To either side of the picture, you could see a portion of Miranda and the woman who’d been sitting beside her, leaving no doubt the picture was from their accident. The next two photos were of the driver, each showing the entry wound above his right eye, and confirming what Quinn had already suspected—the second report was the accurate one.
Next came a map with a circle around the area where the accident had occurred, while the final two files were pictures again. The first was a wide shot of the crash scene, also without a seal. Several people were looking through the car, while more huddled in smaller groups, talking. The last image was a close-up of the group that had been farthest from the camera. It wasn’t a new shot, but a blowup of the previous one, which, because of the magnification, meant the subjects were blurry. The main focus seemed to be on the man in the center. He had short brown hair and appeared to be more Caucasian than Turkish, but that was pretty much all Quinn could make out.
“Go back,” he said.
Orlando clicked back to the group image. Though the area blown up in the final image was considerably smaller now, it was actually easier to make out some details. No, the man was definitely not Turkish. He was talking to an official-looking man in a suit. Perhaps the lead investigator?
“Anybody recognize him?” he asked.
“I don’t,” Orlando said.
Nate shook his head. “Me, neither.”
“Who do you think he is?” Liz asked.
“Someone Peter was interested in, I guess,” Quinn replied. “But other than that, I don’t know.”
“Maybe he was from the US delegation, there to ID the bodies,” his sister suggested.
“That would be done in a morgue, not while the bodies were still in the car. Besides, I doubt they would leave the bodies there very long anyway, so the pictures had to have been taken shortly after the police arrived on scene.”
“Maybe he’s with the police,” she said.
“I don’t think so.”
“Because he’s white? I’m sure there’s some fair-skinned Turks.”
“I’m sure there are. But look at his haircut. Look at what he’s wearing.” The man was dressed in khaki pants and a black polo golf shirt. “If he’s not American, then he’s pretending to be one.”
“Then he could be from the delegation,” Liz argued.
Quinn shook his head. “If he were, Peter would have known, and wouldn’t have blown this picture up. Whoever this guy is, I’d bet he’s tied to what happened to Miranda and her friends.”
“I might be able to clean the picture up some,” Orlando said. “Then maybe…send it around. See if anyone recognizes…him.”
“Yeah, maybe after you take a twelve-hour nap,” Quinn said.
“I’m okay. Just need to rest for a minute.”
“I’ll help her,” Liz said. “She can tell me what to do.”
Quinn disliked that idea only slightly less than having Orlando do it on her own, but the truth was, getting that picture would help. He nodded. “E-mail me copies of all the decrypted files first, then see what you can do.”
He motioned for Nate to follow him, and left.
In the corridor, he said, “Peter said it in the video I saw. Whoever’s responsible for killing him killed Miranda, too.”
“It would be a hell of a coincidence otherwise.”
“Exactly. You saw the list in Peter’s notes, right?”
Nate nodded.
“I’d bet everything that the person or group we’re looking for is on there. We need to pull the pieces together, and figure out which one it is.”
“And how are we going to do that?”
To answer, Quinn pulled out his phone and called Daeng.
“News?” Daeng said.
“Nothing yet,” Quinn replied. “I need to talk to Misty.”
“Sure. Hold on.”
A short pause, then Misty said, “Hello?”
“How you holding up?”
“Well, you know. Okay, I guess.”
“I have a question for you. Peter once mentioned there was an organization that took over for the Office. I’m pretty sure he knew the person in charge.”
“Yes, he did.”
“I had the impression Peter trusted him.”
“Very much. But it’s not a him. It’s a her.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
SAN FRANCISCO
HELEN CHO GRABBED the pot of coffee off her credenza and filled her cup.
When she was settled behind her desk, she pushed the intercom button and said, “Send in Director Stone.”
Across the room the door to her office opened, and Gregory Stone, current director of O & O, stepped in.
“Good to see you, Helen,” he said as he walked up to her desk and extended his hand.
“Sit,” she said, not taking it.
“All right.” He pulled his hand back and sat down. “Now what’s so important we couldn’t have dealt with it over the phone?”
“First off, you’re fired.”
He leaned forward. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t see a need to repeat myself.”
“You can’t fire me. You don’t have the authority.”
“You mean even though your organization now falls under me?”
“Yes. Check my job description. You may be able to order O & O around, but I can only be removed from office by the secretary of Homeland Security or someone above him. Which, I believe, is only one person.”
“Two if you count the vice president.”
“No one counts the vice president,” Stone said.
“Fair enough. I’ve read the details of your employment parameters. Needless to say, they will be removed before your successor takes office.”
Stone snorted a laugh, leaned back against his chair, and crossed his legs. “Dream on.”
She held his gaze for a moment before she reached over and tapped one of the buttons on her phone. “Are you still there, sir?”
“I am,” the secretary of Homeland Security said.
“And I trust you heard everything.”
“I did indeed.”
The blood drained from Stone’s face. “I, um, wasn’t aware someone was listening in. I should have been informed.”
“Does it matter?” Helen asked.
“Yes, former Director Stone, that’s a good question,” the secretary said.
“It’s not fair, sir. This is an ambush.”
“What this is,” Helen said, “is an overdue spring cleaning.”
“You cannot—”
“Stop right there,” the secretary said. “I would think very long and hard before you open your mouth again, Mr. Stone. You’ve made a mess at O & O. Helen is only doing what needs to be done.”
“Sir, I don’t know what stories you may have heard, or what Director Cho had chosen to tell you, but—”
“Director Cho has chosen to tell me nothing. She merely asked that I look into O & O for myself, which I have.” He paused. “I am embarrassed that this agency exists under my umbrella. Who knows how long it’s going to take us to unravel everything you’ve done there? Starting right now, you will answer everything Director Cho asks you. You will answer truthfully without hesitation. But it doesn’t end when you walk out of the room. Consider the rest of your life one gigantic exit interview. If and when Director Cho has questions for you in the future, you will answer those immediately. You will also answer any questions your successor has, if we decide it’s worth keeping O & O going. Lie one time, put off one answer, and you might as well kiss your life good-bye, because I can assure you, where you’ll be taken, you will not see the light of day for quite some time. If I’m particularly annoyed, like I am right now, I’ll arrange it so you never see it again. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are there any questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Then Director Cho, I will leave matters in your hands.”
“Thank you, sir,” Helen said, and touched the button that disconnected the call.
For several seconds, Stone stared at the phone, as if he were sure the secretary was still on the line.
“Darvot Consulting,” Helen said.
He looked at her, confused. “What?”
“Darvot Consulting, the client for the Georgetown job we talked about on the phone. Who is your main contact there?”
“That, um, would be Kyle Morten.”
“So Mr. Morten is the one who hired you to watch the apartment?”
“Actually it was arranged by his associate, Mr. Griffin.”
As she suspected.
“What was the purpose of this job?”
“To detain anyone trying to enter the apartment.”
“And how did that go?” She paused only a second before saying, “Never mind. Your failure on the mission isn’t important at the moment. It’s the mission itself I’m interested in. What were the reasons for detaining anyone found there?”
“I assume you’ve read the project brief,” he said. “Likely terrorist activity?”
“You believed the brief?”
“My job is not…was not to question a brief, but to render services to clients on our approved list. Darvot is on that list.”
“Who put them on that list?”
“They’ve been there for as long as I’ve been with the organization.”
“Let me broaden that a bit. Who approves anyone for that list?”
His hesitation was probably enough to get him sent to Guantanamo, but she made no mention of it.
“The director of O & O.”
“So, you.”
“Yes. But I do my due diligence, and my predecessor would have done the same.”
“I’m sure. What you’re telling me is that your job is not to question a brief from a client approved by the director of O & O, and yet you are the director of O & O. Help me out here.”
“My predecessor, in this case,” he said.
“The director of O & O,” she countered.
In the corner of her eye, she saw a message from her assistant David flash onto her computer screen. She glanced over.
I have a Jonathan Quinn on line three. He insists on talking to you.
Jonathan Quinn? It took her a moment to place the name. He was an operative, a…cleaner, if she wasn’t mistaken. Why in God’s name would he want to talk to her?
She typed a quick reply.
Take a message.
David responded almost immediately.
He said he’ll hold.
She wrote back:
Tell him I’m tied up.
Then she turned her screen so she wouldn’t see it if another message appeared.
“Apologies,” she said to Stone. “Let’s keep moving forward. Mr. Griffin answers to Mr. Morten. Do you know if Mr. Morten answers to anyone?”
“How should I know that?” Stone said. “They haven’t shared their corporate structure with me.”
“It’s not in the file O & O has on Darvot?”
“You must have looked at it yourself. You know if it’s there or not.”
“It’s not.”
“Well, then, there’s your answer,” he said defensively.
She stared at him until he blinked and looked away. “You want to know what I’ve learned about your organization since it came under my control? O & O and due diligence are not synonymous. I have no doubt we’re going to find numerous examples of O & O activities that border on the criminal, if not cross the line entirely.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I have no knowledge of anything remotely like that.”
“Of course you don’t.” She clasped her hands, set them on the desk in front of her, and leaned forward. “What I’m telling you, Mr. Stone, is this. You will never look for another job again. Not in the government. Not in the private sector. Not even serving coffee at Starbucks. You will live off the money you have now, and the retirement package you are due. And that’s it.”
He jerked forward and slammed his palms down on the front of her desk. “What? You can’t do that! I don’t have enough to—”
“Actually, I can. If you break this rule, you will find yourself in one of our secret courtrooms, where you’ll be convicted and sentenced to life.”
“On what charge?”
She smiled. “We’ll think of something.” She stood. “Now get your ass out of my office.”
“I want to talk to the sec—”
“Don’t embarrass yourself. Get out, Gregory. We’re done.”
It was several moments before he finally pulled himself to his feet and left her office, looking shell-shocked.
Before the door could close again, David slipped inside. “Excuse me, Director, but Jonathan Quinn has called back again.”
“For God’s sake, David. Run interference. I don’t have time to deal with him.”
“He said to tell you it has to do with Peter.” He said the name almost like it was a question, as if he wasn’t sure he was pronouncing it right.
Helen froze. “He said Peter?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
That’s right. That’s how she knew Quinn. He was Peter’s go-to cleaner. But why would he be calling now? What the hell was going on? “Give me a minute, then put him through.”
When her phone rang, she was sitting again, looking at her computer. She picked up the receiver and said, “Mr. Quinn.”
“Director Cho, thank you for taking my call. I’m—”
“I know who you are,” she said. On her monitor was a surprisingly short dossier for one Jonathan Quinn. “You’re a cleaner.”
“That’s correct.”
“As you can imagine, my schedule is rather full. I only have a moment. If we could make this quick?”
“Of course. I’m hoping you can help me with a few questions.”
“I’m not an information service.”
“I’m asking as a favor to Peter.”
As a test, she said, “If Peter wants a favor, he can call himself.”
“Ma’am, I have no doubt you already know Peter was killed in the Caribbean early last week.”
She said nothing.
“I was standing less than fifty feet away from him when it happened.”
Helen seldom found herself at a loss for words, but this was one of those moments. When she finally found her voice, she said, “Tell me how it happened.”
Quinn told her a story of kidnapping and torture and murder and escape. His details so neatly filled in the holes in the report on Peter’s death that she knew he was telling the truth. Her analysts were right. It had been an act of revenge gone wrong.
“The rest of you survived, though?” she asked.
A hesitation. “Yes.”
Neither said anything for a moment.
“You said you had questions, Mr. Quinn.”
“Peter left some unfinished business that he wanted me to take care of.”
“And what might that be?”
“What do you know about Miranda Keyes’s death?”
“Miranda Keyes?” Helen said. “Who is Miranda…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered. “You mean the woman from the State Department killed in that car accident?”
“It wasn’t an accident. Someone murdered her and her colleagues.”
“That was a long time ago. I don’t remember all the details, but I seem to recall that there was a thorough investigation and no determination of foul play. So that’s quite an accusation.”
“It’s not an accusation. The original report was suppressed.”
“Who would do that?”
“That’s one of my questions.”
“Well, even if it’s true, I obviously have no idea.”
“Maybe not. But you’re in a position to help me find out.”
“And why would I do that?”
“It’s my understanding that you and Peter were close, or at least as close as Peter would let anyone get. I thought you’d be interested in bringing his wife’s killers to justice.”
“Wait, are you saying Miranda Keyes and Peter were married?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“That’s not my problem.”
She considered the possibility. It would have been the kind of marriage better kept secret, for the obvious, diplomatic reasons. But still… “I knew Peter. If he wouldn’t share that with me, he wouldn’t tell you, either.”
“You’re right. He never said a word to me. But he did tell his assistant, Misty Blake.”
