Camel Club 01 - The Camel Club

by David Baldacci

  When she arrived at WFO, he stopped and watched her go in the building.

  Petite, olive complexion and an attitude. He’d known a woman just like that once.

  He turned and headed to a Metro station. He had a very important meeting to go to. Emerging from the subway at an agreed-upon spot, he found the other members of the club waiting for him.

  They had decided that the safest way for Milton to retrieve his record of the break-in was to be escorted to his house by the security firm that had responded to the silent alarm. Arrangements were made, and Milton, followed at a discreet distance by the rest of the Camel Club in Caleb’s Malibu, met two guards near his home, and the three men went in together.

  About thirty minutes later Milton joined up with his friends, and they sat in Caleb’s car.

  Stone said, “Did you get it?”

  Milton nodded and slipped a DVD out of his knapsack. “It was activated, so presumably there’s something on it.”

  He popped it in his laptop, and a minute later they were looking at the darkened interior of Milton’s house.

  “There!” Stone said, pointing at a man coming around the corner.

  “That’s Reinke,” Caleb exclaimed.

  “And there’s his confederate,” Reuben added. “The one you nailed with the helmet, Oliver.”

  They continued to watch, seeing the pair move stealthily from room to room.

  “My God, Milton,” Reuben said sarcastically. “You’re quite the Messy Marvin at home, aren’t you?”

  “What’s he pulling out of that bin?” Caleb asked.

  Milton ran that part again. “That looks like my receipt box, but I can’t see what the paper is.”

  “Look, there’s the security guard,” Stone said.

  They watched as the man advanced, and then something flew out of the darkness at him and he crumpled.

  “What the hell was that?” Reuben asked.

  “A man in a mask,” Stone said. “At least one of them had the good sense to burglarize the place without showing his face.”

  “But it wasn’t Reinke and the other guy,” Milton said.

  “Which clearly means there’s someone else,” Stone said slowly. “But this tape gives us the leverage that we—” He was cut off by the buzzing of Milton’s cell phone.

  Milton answered, “Oh, hi, Chastity.” Then his expression changed in a hurry. “What! Oh, my God! What are you talking abou—”

  Stone ripped the phone from his friend. “Chastity!”

  However, it was a man’s voice on the line.

  “I think under the circumstances that we can call it even right now. So long as you don’t act, neither will we.”

  The phone went dead.

  Stone looked at the panicked Milton, who had tears welling into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Milton.”

  Kate had spent the next morning and afternoon researching Milton Farb, Reuben Rhodes and Caleb Shaw. She’d also gone on Google and found some material on Milton and his Jeopardy! stint. However, Oliver Stone remained an enigma. Kate was certain of one thing: She believed the men had seen who killed Patrick Johnson. The bullet hole and blood on the boat seemed to indicate that they’d almost lost their lives as well.

  Armed with her newfound knowledge, she went back to Mt. Zion Cemetery that afternoon and was fortunate to find Stone working in the grounds.

  “Hello, Oliver. Kate Adams. We met briefly the other night.”

  “I remember,” he said curtly.

  “Are you okay? You look worried.”

  “Nothing too important.”

  “Well, as you know, Alex is out of town, and I hope you don’t think it’s too forward of me, but I’d like to invite you to dinner tonight.”

  “To dinner?” Stone looked at her as though she were speaking a language he was not familiar with.

  “At my house. Well, not exactly my house, I live in the carriage house. It’s actually Lucille Whitney-Houseman’s home, in Georgetown. Do you know her?”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure,” he said distractedly.

  “And I wanted to invite Adelphia and your other friends.”

  Stone threw some weeds in a garbage bag. “That’s very nice, but I’m afraid—” He stopped and looked at her sharply. “What other friends?”

  “You know. Reuben Rhodes, Caleb Shaw and Milton Farb. I’m starting to collect rare books, and I think Caleb will be fascinating to talk to. And I’m a huge fan of Jeopardy!, though I don’t think I saw Milton when he was on. And Reuben’s work at DIA all those years ago, how could that not be enthralling? And then, of course, there’s you.” She let that comment hang for a long moment. “I’m sure it’ll be a wonderfully interesting dinner. They used to have them in Georgetown all the time, or so Lucky—that’s Mrs. Whitney-Houseman—tells me.” Kate said this all in one long surge, hoping to overwhelm Stone into accepting if only because his curiosity had to be piqued by now.

  He said nothing for about a minute as he knelt on the ground, apparently dissecting all she had said. “I’ve found that when one takes the time to learn that much about someone, there’s usually a reason for the interest that’s not readily apparent to everyone.”

  “I wouldn’t disagree with that,” she answered.

  “However, I’m not sure tonight is good for us. We’ve had, well, we’ve had some bad news very recently.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Alex and I had some bad things happen too. Some people tried to kill us. Funny, it was right after we discovered an old boat hidden in a storm drain in Georgetown that looked like it had a bullet hole in it and also some blood.”

  “I see.” Stone’s calm response to what must’ve been a stunning revelation only increased her esteem for the man, along with her curiosity. “Well, then perhaps we should have dinner. I can contact my friends.”

  “Around seven will be great. Do you need the address?”

  “Yes. Mrs. Whitney-Houseman no doubt resides in circles where the common masses do not often tread.”

  She told him the address. “Now, I’ll just pop over to invite Adelphia. I’m sure she can catch a ride with you and your friends.”

  “Kate, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Oh, I think it’s a great idea,” she said firmly.

  “And why is that?” he asked.

  “Because, Oliver, you strike me as someone who needs all the friends he can get right now.”

  Caleb, Milton and Adelphia arrived at Lucky’s manse in the Malibu, its tailpipe smoking and its springs creaking from the strenuous activities at Reinke’s place. Reuben and Stone pulled up behind them on the Indian motorcycle.

  Kate had been watching for them and opened the ornately carved front door.

  “Nice bike,” she said to Reuben, who wore a frayed leather jacket, wrinkled khaki pants, collared shirt and his usual moccasins. However, for the dinner he’d wrapped a blue kerchief around his neck as a cravat.

  Reuben ran his gaze appreciatively over the young woman’s figure. She was dressed in black slacks and matching pumps with a white blouse and a small string of pearls around her neck. Her blond hair was done up in a bun that showed off her long, slender neck.

  “I’ll take you for a spin sometime,” he said. “That sidecar has seen some action, let me tell you.”

  Adelphia nodded stiffly at her hostess as she passed into the house. Milton followed her. He was dressed in an immaculate green blazer and striped tie, his slacks perfectly creased. He held out a small bouquet of flowers he’d brought.

  “It’s Milton, right? Well, thank you very much, they’re beautiful.” Even as she said this, Adams saw tears forming in the man’s eyes.

  Next came Caleb, who’d decided not to wear his Abe Lincoln outfit after Stone had spoken with him, something to the effect of not wanting their hostesses to think he was dangerously insane. However, in an act of subtle defiance he had worn his fat pocket watch and chain.

  “Nice to meet you, Caleb,” Kate
said pleasantly. “Go right in.”

  Oliver Stone brought up the rear. He was dressed in some of his new clothes and was holding his motorcycle helmet in one hand. “Would you care to give me a preview of the agenda?”

  She looked at him with a twinkle. “But that would take all the fun away.”

  “This isn’t a fun business we find ourselves in.”

  “I agree. But I think you’ll find the evening informative.”

  Lucky met them with a pitcher of sangria. As she scuttled around talking and pouring, it was clear that the old woman was in her element. Sufficiently refreshed, they passed a pleasant hour before dinner was served.

  Reuben and Caleb ate heartily. Stone, Milton and Adelphia merely picked at their meals. Coffee was served in the library. Cigars were offered by Lucky but only Reuben lit up. “I like to see a man smoke,” she said as she sat next to Reuben and patted his big shoulder. “Now, you look to me to be a man who packs heat.”

  As Reuben stared at her quizzically, the conversation, craftily guided by Kate, turned to intelligence circles.

  “I tell you what,” Reuben said, “the best security in the world can be defeated by a rumbling stomach.”

  “How’s that?” Kate asked.

  “Just this. I knew before anyone else the exact time the bombings of Afghanistan and Iraq were going to start.”

  “Were you with DIA back then?”

  “Hell no, they’d long since kicked my butt out. I knew because I was the dispatcher for Domino’s. Each time, the pizza order for the Pentagon spiked right before the bombs started falling. So yours truly knew before the likes of Dan Rather or Tom Brokaw or probably even the president.”

  While Reuben had been talking, Caleb was making the rounds of the books on the massive shelves, with Lucky as his guide.

  Caleb’s face brightened with each new discovery. “Oh, that’s quite a good copy of Moby-Dick. And a Hound of the Baskervilles, first English edition. Very nice. And over there, is that Jefferson’s Notes on the State of Virginia from 1785? Yes, it is. We have one in our collection. Lucky, you really should let me get you acid-free boxes for these, computer-cut to the book’s exact dimensions.”

  Lucky was hanging on Caleb’s every word. “Oh, acid-free boxes cut by computer, how terribly exciting. Would you, Caleb?”

  “It would be my honor.”

  Reuben helped himself to more coffee spiked with a little something from a flask he pulled from his coat pocket. “Yeah, you’ll find brother Caleb a real dynamo in the excitement department.”

  “Lucky,” Kate said finally, “we’re going to head out to the carriage house. I need to talk over some things with my friends.”

  “All right, dear,” she said, patting Caleb’s arm. “But first they have to promise to come back.”

  Reuben immediately raised his glass. “Lucky, you couldn’t keep me away with a squad of Special Forces.”

  Kate led them outside and over to the carriage house, where they settled down around a table on the large sofa and two wing chairs.

  “I’m assuming you’ve told them of our discussion and the discovery of the boat?” Kate said in a businesslike tone to Stone.

  “I have,” he answered, casting a glance in Adelphia’s direction. “And for some reason you believe that we were in that boat and on the island?”

  “I don’t believe, I know. Now I want to know how much you saw.”

  “There’s no evidence that we saw anything,” he replied evenly. “Even if Adelphia has told you that she followed us to the river and watched us head to the island, that doesn’t mean we were witness to that man’s death.”

  “But I believe you saw everything. And I think whoever killed Patrick Johnson discovered your presence, and you had to make a run for it. That would explain the bullet hole in the boat and the blood. What I can’t understand is why you didn’t simply go to the police and tell them what you saw.”

  “Easy enough for you to say,” Reuben interjected. “They’d believe you. But look at us, we’re a scruffy bunch with questionable pedigrees.”

  “So you’re admitting you did witness the murder?”

  Caleb started to speak but Stone broke in. “We’re not admitting anything.”

  Kate said, “Oliver, I’m just trying to help you. And don’t forget, someone tried to kill Alex and me after we found the boat.”

  Reuben shot Stone a puzzled look. “Oliver, you didn’t tell us that.”

  Milton blurted out, “But what about Chastity? They’ve kidnapped Chastity!”

  They all stared at him as tears fell down his twitching cheeks.

  “If someone’s been kidnapped,” Kate said, “the police should be notified immediately.”

  “It’s not quite that simple,” Caleb said, glancing at Stone, whose gaze was on the floor. “We really can’t go to the police.”

  Kate looked at Stone. “Oliver,” she said quietly, “as a team we might be able to do something.”

  “Hell yes, we could,” Reuben said. “She’s official, being with DOJ, and our sorry asses can only get things second- and third-hand.”

  “It is time to work together,” Caleb chimed in.

  Stone still said nothing.

  Reuben put down his cigar “Okay, since our exalted leader is uncharacteristically mute, I hereby call a special meeting of the Camel Club to order. And I move that we tell Kate here everything. Do I have a second?”

  “Second,” Caleb said immediately.

  “All in favor,” Reuben said, his gaze on Stone.

  The ayes carried.

  Reuben said, “The Camel Club has spoken.”

  “What is the Camel Club?” a puzzled Kate asked.

  “Let me do the honors,” Stone finally said.

  CHAPTER

  50

  “YOU DID WHAT!” ALEX YELLED into his cell phone. He had been sitting in his hotel room the next morning just strapping on his gun when Kate called.

  “See, that’s why I waited until this morning to call you,” she said. “Because I knew you’d be upset.”

  “What the hell did you expect me to do? Say, ‘Good job, Kate, and I’m really glad you’re not a corpse’?”

  “I told you I was going to check into Oliver Stone and his friends, and you said it was okay.”

  “But I didn’t know they were eyewitnesses to Johnson’s murder, which was the very thing I told you to stay away from in the first place!”

  “Well, I didn’t know they were connected either. So just hear me out. I’ve got a lot to tell you.” She spoke for several minutes, relaying what Stone had told her last night.

  When she finished, Alex shook his head incredulously. “Okay, okay. Let me get this straight. They saw the murder and didn’t go to the police because they were afraid the police would think they were involved?”

  “I don’t believe Oliver likes the police very much. Maybe it’s to do with his past.”

  “And on top of that, they traced one of the murderers, went to his house and were almost killed?”

  “Yes.”

  “And while they were ‘burglarizing’ the killer’s house, Milton Farb’s home was broken into by these same guys, and they got them on film doing it?”

  “But Milton’s girlfriend’s been kidnapped by these people, and so they can’t go to the police about that either.”

  “But they didn’t tell you the names of the murderers?”

  “I think they only know one of their names.”

  “But they have them on film. Did you recognize them?”

  “They haven’t shown me the film.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “They want to show it to you first.”

  “Great, but I’m a four-hour drive away with work out the gazoo, and the president will be here tomorrow.”

  “They won’t budge on that, Alex. I tried. They’ll only show it to you. I mean come on. I work for the Justice Department, and they don’t know me. It was a real effort for them to tell me as m
uch as they have. Oliver trusts you, not me.”

  Alex rubbed his hair, cupped the phone under his chin and finished putting on his holster. “Okay, so do you have a plan?”

  “Well, I was thinking we could come up to see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow! Tomorrow POTUS is here. And he takes precedence over everything, Kate, you know that.”

  “I know. But I wanted you to meet with the Camel Club—”

  “The what?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s what Oliver and his friends refer to themselves as, the Camel Club. It’s sort of a conspiracy watchdog organization they’ve been running for years. Do you know they were the ones who first got on to the scandal with the defense secretary years ago? You remember, right? He was taking kickbacks for directing government contracts to certain vendors? The Camel Club discovered that through a scrap of information they got from an assistant chef at the White House. It’s really amazing stuff, Alex.”

  Alex lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. “An assistant White House chef is spying on the secretary of defense for something called the Camel Club? This is a joke, right? Please tell me this is a joke, Kate.”

  “Forget that. It’s not important.”

  Alex jumped up. “Not important!”

  “Alex, will you please listen to me? They’ve done some incredible investigative work on this case. They really have.”

  Alex managed to calm down. “Okay, you all come up here and then what?”

  “We attend the ceremony, and after that we all sit down, and they can show you the film and tell you the man’s name. Then we can go from there.”

  “Meaning I take all this to the Secret Service?”

  “Right. With a name and these guys on film, we have solid stuff. And we have to get Chastity back. Milton is heartbroken.”

  “Who the hell is Chastity?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, that’s Milton’s girlfriend. She’s the one who was kidnapped.”

  “The FBI handles kidnappings. And every second that goes by the odds are she won’t be found alive.”

  “These aren’t ordinary kidnappers. They have a lot more at stake. They’ve called and let Milton talk to her for a few seconds every couple of hours, to show she’s alive. I don’t think they’ll harm Chastity, for now anyway. Things are at a stalemate.”