The Fix

by David Baldacci

  “Nothing about this case has been easy,” replied Decker.

  He left Milligan and walked down the hall to an office he was sharing with Jamison. He filled her in on his discussion with Milligan.

  “That theory does fill in some holes,” she said.

  “But it doesn’t get us any closer to who’s behind this. Or where they might be planning to strike. And that’s what we really need to find out.”

  “I spoke with Bogart a few minutes ago. They found nothing helpful at the Gorskis’ home.”

  Decker sat down across from her and stared at the ceiling.

  “But you’re not satisfied with your own theory?”

  “Why do you say that?” he asked.

  “Because I know you. I can tell.”

  He turned his head to look at her. “Okay, you’re right. I’m not satisfied.”

  “What would make you satisfied?”

  “Something that makes total sense, not piecemeal.”

  “You might not get that.”

  “I’m coming around to that possibility.” He put his size fourteens up on the desk and leaned back in his chair.

  “Heard from Harper Brown?” asked Jamison.

  “Not a word.”

  “She and Melvin saw each other again.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I talked to Melvin just now. They went to lunch, well, a picnic really at Roosevelt Island. He said they had a great time.”

  “I’m glad she can find time for pleasure while working a case involving the fate of the country.”

  “Everybody needs to take a break now and then,” said Jamison.

  “So now you’re defending her,” said Decker with a snort.

  “Hey, I’m a progressive. We’re always moving forward, not backward.”

  Decker stood. “Well, I’m looking to make some progress too, so I better get to it.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Not sure, but I’ll let you know how it turns out.”

  “Hey, Decker?”

  He turned back. “What?”

  “Why did you stick up for me with the Secret Service and insist I go to the meeting at the White House too?”

  “I’m surprised you have to ask.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s what I meant when I said I had your back, Alex.”

  He turned and walked out.

  CHAPTER

  67

  “EVER THINK YOU’RE LOOKING at a case ass-backwards?”

  Harper Brown stared across the width of the café table at Decker. “In this case, how so?”

  He had called her on the way out of the WFO and they had arranged to meet here.

  “Dabney kills Berkshire and then himself. The case starts from there and we proceed linearly.”

  “Right, but there are back stories we have to check out too. And we have been. This didn’t start with him killing her.”

  “Granted, that was the result. But as we’ve been checking out the histories, it seems that we’ve been focusing mainly on Dabney.”

  “Well, we can’t find out jack shit on Berkshire, except that she was definitely a spy. We have nothing else to go on.”

  In response, Decker pulled the doll out of the backpack he’d brought and set it on the table between them.

  “We have this.”

  She stared at it momentarily before looking up at him in disbelief. “This? A doll? We already know it was probably used to transfer stolen secrets in the hidden compartment. But so what?”

  “Why a doll?”

  “Why not?”

  “Let’s play this out logically. You steal secrets, put them in the doll, and carry it to another person, presumably Berkshire.”

  “Right.”

  “So, again, why a doll?”

  “Why not? It’s innocuous, most people wouldn’t give it a second look.”

  “Well, they might if a guy was carrying it around. It’s too large to put in your pocket. And a bag might be searched.”

  “So you’re saying the other person was probably a woman?”

  “Either a woman, or maybe a man with a little girl.”

  “Wait, do you mean Walter Dabney?”

  “It’s possible. The doll might have belonged to one of his daughters. The Bureau determined that this doll was manufactured about thirty years ago. So the Dabney girls are the right age for that. And like you said, it’s innocuous. Who would suspect a little girl with a doll of transporting secrets? And these people seem to like using kids as cover. Look at Joey Scott and the book.”

  Brown looked thoughtful. “That’s true. So do we ask the daughters directly about the doll?”

  “Yes, we do.”

  * * *

  “Where did you get that?” asked a stunned Jules.

  Decker and Brown were seated in the living room with Jules, her mother, and her two sisters.

  Ellie exclaimed, “Jules, isn’t that your doll, Missy?”

  Jules took it from Decker and held it.

  “You’re sure it’s yours?” said Brown.

  In response Jules sniffed the hair and then looked at the doll’s left foot.

  “See the red dots on the shoe? I spilled paint on it when I was little. It wouldn’t come out. And I recognize the smell of her hair. Where did you get it?”

  “During the course of the investigation,” answered Decker, taking the doll back. “When do you remember having it last?”

  Jules sat back. “I…I don’t know. I didn’t take it to college.” Her cheeks reddened. “I actually wanted to but changed my mind. I didn’t think to check on it since I got here.”

  “So the doll stayed here, in the house?” said Brown.

  Ellie said, “We’ve kept the girls’ bedrooms exactly as they left them for when they come back. They all had dolls. I thought they were all still there. Cissy keeps—” Her voice broke off. “Cissy kept every room neat and organized.”

  “Can we see them?” asked Decker.

  Jules led them up to the bedrooms. After she left them, Decker and Brown found three dolls with the same secret compartments behind the batteries.

  “Shit,” said Brown. “This was spy central, apparently. Four daughters and four dolls with secret compartments.”

  “This confirms that Walter Dabney must’ve known Berkshire. They were working together.”

  “And that explains how they afforded a place like this all those years ago.”

  Decker looked at her. “So you thought of that too?”

  “I have my moments of epiphany,” she said modestly.

  “Let’s check the Dabneys’ bedroom.”

  It was far larger than the daughters’ spaces, with an attached sitting room and a fireplace. They searched the bedroom, then the two large closets; Ellie’s was a spacious walk-in. Decker next looked in the en suite bathroom and went through the drawers and the medicine cabinet where there were a number of prescription bottles. These included heart meds and cholesterol-lowering drugs, and an asthma inhaler.

  Sucks getting old, thought Decker.

  He closed the door of the medicine cabinet and rejoined Brown in the bedroom.

  “No dolls,” she said.

  They went back downstairs carrying all the dolls and reentered the room where the Dabney women were still sitting. Jules was holding her old doll.

  “What are you doing with those?” asked Samantha, indicating the dolls.

  “We need to take them with us,” said Brown.

  “Why?” asked Samantha.

  “They’re evidence.”

  Samantha was about to say something, but she glanced at Jules and sat back.

  Decker sat across from Jules. “I want to show you this photo again and see if you recognize the woman.” He held up Berkshire’s photo.

  “I told you I didn’t recognize her,” said Jules.

  Decker passed the photo around to the others. Ellie and the others shook their heads as they looked at the picture of Be
rkshire.

  “Imagine her with darker hair, fewer lines on the face?” prompted Decker.

  They studied the photo for a few moments. Jules shook her head. “I really don’t know this person.” She looked at her sister and mother. They all, too, shook their heads.

  Ellie said, “What does all this mean? With the dolls and all? I don’t understand.”

  “We don’t either, if it’s any consolation,” said Brown.

  “Are you…saying that Walt was involved in something having to do with these dolls? How does that make any sense? They were the girls’ toys, not his. I never remember him walking around with a doll. It’s absurd.”

  “Right now, we’re not saying anything,” replied Brown. “We’re still in the collecting stage.”

  They left the house with the dolls and walked to Brown’s car.

  Decker turned around and looked at the house. “You know the game kids play, ‘You’re getting warmer, warmer’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, every time I leave this place I think I’m getting colder.”

  As they drove off, Brown said, “Melvin and I are having dinner tonight. You and Alex want to join us?”

  “After your wonderful picnic?”

  Brown actually blushed at this comment. “It was wonderful. He brought me flowers.”

  He glanced at her. “You sure you want the company?”

  “We’re working our butts off, the fate of the country in the balance. I think a few hours of distraction might actually be good for all of us.”

  “Okay,” said Decker.

  CHAPTER

  68

  THE DINNER HAD BEEN GOOD and the conversation light and humor-filled. It had been a nice respite from the investigation, allowing them to recharge their batteries. Now the four of them had driven over to Brown’s home near Capitol Hill.

  Jamison stared goggled-eyed at the luxurious interior. “Harper, this place is beautiful.”

  Brown handed Jamison a glass of wine and said, “Most of it was my grandmother’s doing. She had the eye. But I’ve put in some of my own things too. A few paintings, that sculpture over there, and some rugs. And a special feature or two,” she added offhandedly. “It’s comfortable and cozy.”

  “Yes, it really is.”

  Decker and Mars were on the other side of the room. In lieu of wine the pair were each cradling a bottle of Dos Equis.

  “Fun time tonight,” said Mars. He was dressed in jeans and a dark green turtleneck that seemed barely able to contain his chiseled physique.

  “Always like hanging with you, Melvin.”

  He looked over and caught Brown eyeing Mars. She smiled appreciatively and turned back to Jamison.

  “And you obviously have a fan in Ms. Brown.”

  Mars took a swig of beer and grinned like a schoolboy. “She’s fun. Lady’s been everywhere, done everything. I’ve been nowhere and done nothing.” He looked around. “And she comes from money but doesn’t act like it. That’s cool in my book. And she’s quite an athlete! I mean, she’s built like one, but she’s got the goods too, ’cause you never know, right? We went for a run early this morning.”

  “Before your picnic?” said Decker.

  Mars’s smile broadened. “I know. But we like hanging out together. Anyway, she had no problem keeping up with me. Hell, I think she might have been going easy on me.”

  “And she’s kind to children and loves puppies. Quite the catch.”

  Mars’s smile broadened. “I know, I know. I’m just rambling here, being kind of goofy. And I know we don’t really know each other all that well, but we just kind of clicked, you know?”

  “I know, Melvin. And I’m really happy for you.”

  Decker glanced at his watch. It was late, after midnight.

  “I’m going to finish this beer and then call it a ni—”

  The lights went out, sending them into darkness.

  “What the hell?” exclaimed Mars.

  “Did a circuit breaker trip or did a transformer blow outside?” said Decker.

  He felt someone pass him and a few moments later Brown said, “Other homes on the street have power. It must be—”

  She stopped, turned, and ran back over to them. She grabbed Decker and Mars by the arm. “Move it. Now! Jamison, to the right and down the hall.”

  “What’s—” began Mars, but she had tugged on his hand and pulled them out of the room.

  A few seconds later the front and back doors burst open and masked men poured in. They had short-barreled MP5s and night-vision goggles, and they opened fire as they swarmed through the house.

  As Brown and the others sprinted down the hall, Decker, who was bringing up the rear, turned and emptied half his mag.

  Bullets whizzed past him, exploding a lamp, ripping chunks of plaster off the wall, shredding paintings, and causing bursts of fabric and filling to erupt from furniture.

  Decker emptied the rest of his ammo and Jamison opened fire too as they fled down the hall.

  Brown kicked open a door at the end of the hall and pushed them all through it. She slammed the door shut and turned the lock.

  “Over here, quick!”

  Bullets thudded into the door but none burst through.

  Decker glanced at her.

  “Steel-lined,” she hissed back.

  Brown took out her phone, hit a key, and a section of the wall swiftly opened. Behind it was a metal door. This opened on whisper-quiet hydraulics.

  “Get inside, now!” she urged. “Hurry!”