A Game of Inches

by Webb Hubbell

  Micki and I had anticipated her response. It was exactly the one that would appeal to the Attorney General—promise to evaluate the new evidence, but shut down all the rest. Looking satisfied, he turned to Peggy. It was time for door number three. I cleared my throat and plunged.

  “Ms. Montgomery, let me ask you one more question. How did the FBI get involved in this case? It seems to me that this murder investigation would normally be handled by the DC police.”

  68

  I NOTICED DEPUTY Director Calhoun begin to squirm and Peggy’s eyebrows rise. Sensing Constance’s hesitation, the AG looked at her for an answer.

  “Well, I guess that’s not a state secret. Director Calhoun called me that first morning and offered assistance. He said this would be a high profile case and that he’d be happy to detail a couple of special agents to help. I accepted, and agents Barry and Pitcock quickly arrived on the scene,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “And have they have taken the lead in interviewing witnesses such as the four men who work for Logan Aerospace, and supervised the assembly of all the physical evidence?”

  She assented, and I paused again.

  “Okay. And did they also interview everyone who knew the deceased, her family, her friends, and her work associates.”

  I’d finally gotten under her skin.

  “What is this? You know good and well we don’t know the identity of the deceased. We have advertised on the air and in the newspapers, but we haven’t turned up a clue as to who she is. But I won’t rest until I do, I promise you that.” She looked to the AG, throwing up her hands in disgust.

  I didn’t give him a chance to intervene.

  “So, neither Agents Barry, Pitcock, nor Director Calhoun told you they know the identity of the deceased? They’ve had you spinning your wheels, tossing and turning at night, running ads in the paper, and they never said a word? Constance, not only did they know who she was, they knew her personally.” I sure as hell hoped I hadn’t gone too far.

  Constance’s face went white. She turned to Barry—the truth was written all over his face. He bit his lip and looked at the floor. No one said a word as the AG turned to Calhoun.

  “Can this be true, Felix? Has the FBI known the woman’s identity and withheld it from the U.S. Attorney?”

  Felix gulped. “I don’t think this matter is appropriate for this audience. There is an explanation, but it involves national security and an ongoing investigation.”

  I wasn’t about to let him off the hook.

  “Her name is Nadia Nikolov.” Maggie handed Constance a copy of the file we had received from Novak.

  I spoke directly to her. “I think you will find her immigration fingerprints match those of the deceased.” Constance took the file and began to look through it.

  I turned to the Attorney General, but Calhoun interrupted.

  “I must insist that this is not a forum for a discussion about Ms. Nikolov. We are talking about a sting operation approved by your predecessor that is still ongoing and has national security implications.”

  The AG looked at Peggy, who spoke.

  “Director Calhoun, you called this office and demanded we put a stop to, and I quote, ‘that wild man Jack Patterson.’ We’ve just been told the FBI withheld vital information from the prosecutor in a murder investigation. Now you wish to shut down the very meeting you asked to attend.

  “Mr. Calhoun, your request to end this meeting gives credence to Mr. Patterson’s allegations. Has the FBI in fact known the dead woman’s identity all along? Did some of your agents, including agent Barry, know her personally?”

  Calhoun knew when to keep quiet. He simply nodded.

  Peggy turned to me again. “Mr. Patterson, I take it that if we simply sit back and listen, we will hear why that flurry of subpoenas went out yesterday.”

  Finally. I turned to Constance Montgomery.

  “Let me first say that my team has no desire to interfere with or upset an ongoing investigation of the FBI, except to the extent we can convince all of you that Billy Hopper had nothing to do with the death of Nadia. Billy never met her, never ran into her, and has no idea who she is. Constance, you had no way of knowing any of this because the FBI had no intention of ever letting you find out who she was or helping you discover who in fact did murder her.”

  The color had returned to Constance’s face; she was ready to listen.

  “If you had discovered her identity, you would have known that Nadia’s story is the same as many young girls who come to America pursuing a dream, only to get caught up in our nation’s sex trade. At fifteen, she was branded and sold on a street corner. The mark on her shoulder that your medical examiner referred to as a birthmark was actually a brand she tried to have removed.” Maggie passed the medical records over.

  “But Nadia was different from most of these girls—she was a fighter. With the help of friends, she managed to break free of the men who controlled her. But by that time she had become permanently scarred, her heart had turned cold. Who can blame her? She decided to stay in the business, but she would handle her own business: no protectors and no pimp. She was very attractive, as the photographs indicate. She kept to herself and over time developed quite a clientele. Many of them may come as a surprise to you. They certainly did to me.

  “One client was Senator Jason Boudreaux, who I’m sure the AG has heard from since we subpoenaed him yesterday.”

  “The Senator certainly did call. You should be very careful. Are you saying he was involved in the murder of that young woman?” The Attorney General looked truly distraught.

  “No, I don’t think he was, although he may have caused her death indirectly. I know he was surely the catalyst for a series of events that led to her death, but, no, I don’t think he killed her,” I responded.

  “Then what is your point, Jack?” Peggy asked.

  “Let me tell you what we do know. Over twenty years ago, the Senator returned to Tennessee to bond with his constituents, met a wide-eyed fifteen year-old girl near Bibb, Tennessee, and got her pregnant.”

  Stupidly, Barry interrupted. “You don’t know that. You’re speculating.”

  Peggy brushed him off. “Agent Barry, please no more interruptions.”

  “He’s right. I haven’t asked for DNA tests yet, but I know the senator believed he was the father because he sent the young girl’s mother a hundred dollar bill once a month for over twenty years. And he probably paid a cousin a whole lot more money to marry the girl and keep her quiet.”

  Constance looked up from her notes. “I assume you have some proof.”

  I smiled. “I subpoenaed the Senator, so I hope to be able to ask him directly, but, yes, we have some rather graphic pictures. Moreover, the mother kept the money in the individual envelopes—there are piles of them, neatly tied with string by year. She never spent a single dollar. I bet the envelopes will reveal the Senator’s fingerprints.”

  The AG turned to Peggy and said under his breath, “I’d like to meet that woman.”

  I responded. “You certainly can. She’s in town to meet her only grandson who is currently being detained in the DC jail.”

  Peggy blurted out. “Are you saying Billy Hopper is the illegitimate son of Senator Boudreaux?”

  “As I said, I don’t have the DNA yet, but I know that at least the Senator thinks that is the case as does the grandmother. Isn’t that true, Director Calhoun?”

  “I am not about to confirm or deny a word of what you say.” His refusal gave lie to his words.

  The Attorney General was fed up.

  “I don’t know what to do here. I’m tempted to shut this meeting down until I can figure out what in the hell the FBI has been doing.”

  I couldn’t let that happen. Nadia’s death would be swept under the rug, witnesses would disappear, and Billy would either be convicted or deemed a murderer for the rest of his life. I knew how long internal government investigations take—forever.

  “I don’t believe t
he FBI murdered Nadia or set Billy up, so let me speculate a little before we discuss where you should go from here.”

  The Attorney General turned to Peggy, and she nodded her head.

  “Go ahead.”

  “The senator holds a very powerful position on the appropriations committee. He is also well known on the Hill for having a voracious sexual appetite. Certainly a lobbyist has occasionally provided an influential member of Congress with a woman for the night in return for a favor. I’m speculating here, but nevertheless at some point the Senator and Nadia made connection.

  “What I do know, as fact, is that Logan Aerospace made regular weekly payments into Nadia’s bank account during the same time she met the Senator at the Mayflower hotel once a week. The money came in like clockwork. Last year, deposits from a new source showed up. This ‘client’ made fewer deposits, but the dollar amounts were significant. That client is a front for the FBI—L&A Marketing Advisors. Nadia had decided to work both sides of the street. L&A also provided Nadia a credit card to pay for the room at the Mayflower.”

  I turned to Calhoun—this time he had nothing to say.

  “My speculation is that the FBI is conducting an ongoing investigation into members of the appropriations committee and payments made to them by defense contractors. Nadia was feeding them information.”

  Calhoun crossed his arms defensively.

  Peggy asked. “Why kill Nadia and why frame Billy for the murder? I assume that’s where you are going with this.”

  “Logical question. A couple of events occurred that brought matters to a head. First, Billy hired a private investigator to find out about his mother and her family. It was only a matter of time before he would discover the truth. I think either the Senator got wind of this and told his friends at Logan, or Logan found out directly. As much as they had invested in the Senator, Logan was bound to have known about the rape and Billy. It was another hammer they held over the Senator. If the rape became public knowledge, Logan would lose their golden goose.

  “Second, the Senator found a new playmate—Claudia. She is a young, cute staff member and became a very willing sexual partner. Nadia lost her gravy train. Logan had cut her off several months ago, and it was only a matter of time before the FBI dropped her as well. From her phone records, it looks like she called her contact at Logan to arrange a meeting. She told a former acquaintance she had one big gig left before she could retire. My guess is she threatened to spill the goods unless they paid for her silence. Thus the meeting and why she was at the Mayflower that night in the room next to Billy’s—Room 703.

  “I think Logan quickly realized they could solve both their problems with one solution—murder Nadia and frame Billy for the murder.

  Barry interrupted. “You really believe a major defense contractor would murder someone?” I wondered if he would have a job tomorrow morning.

  I used his question to continue. “No, I don’t. I think they hired the same group that tried to murder me by hiring Tina Lalas, PS Trading out of Shanghai. I have proof they were monitoring our phones and computers. I suspect Director Calhoun knows all about Mr. Kim and PS Trading, don’t you, sir.”

  Calhoun looked at the Attorney General. “I must insist, General, we really are getting into sensitive information with national security implications.”

  I didn’t want to get distracted.

  “PS and Logan come up with a plan. Logan arranges for a table at the NFL Honors banquet and pays extra to have Hopper sit at the table. Logan is really quite tickled with the idea of framing Hopper. The owner of the Lobos is Red Shaw, one of Logan’s biggest competitors. His newest star will now cost Shaw millions, both in hard cash and public relations. They hire three girls to sit with Hopper, drug him, and bring him back to the Mayflower. The girls strip Hopper and leave, handing a cameraman the room key. The girls return to the Mandarin and do what they were hired to do: entertain the boys so they will later say anything to avoid exposure.

  “Meanwhile Nadia goes to the room next to Billy’s at the Mayflower, thinking she is meeting with Logan to arrange for the final payoff. She’s knocked cold, smothered with a pillow and carried to Billy’s room where she’s stabbed. Our killers made three big mistakes. First, they left the pillow in Billy’s room—housekeeping noted a pillow missing from room 703. Second, they didn’t realize the inconsistency of the steak knife. Finally, they took the room keycard with them rather than leave it in the room.”

  Constance said. “No card key in the inventory. I missed that.”

  “True. The locked doors mean nothing. The killers had the card key—they could come and go as they pleased. The cameras on the floor had been disabled. Billy couldn’t have left the room to get a knife or a pillow. He couldn’t have gotten back into his room. The girls gave the only keycard to the cameraman. We checked with the front desk: they only issued one keycard to Billy. Moreover, he was heavily drugged the entire time.”

  “I’m sorry, Constance, but your lead investigators were so busy making sure Nadia’s identity remained a secret and trying to cover up the FBI’s involvement that I’m not sure you can trust any information you’ve received from them. For example, did they tell you that the room next to Billy’s was paid for with L&A’s credit card? I’d bet good money they also cleaned out her house and commandeered her handbag and phone before it could be inventoried that first morning. The FBI had to get her phone before anyone else; it would show phone calls to Agent Barry.” I stared at Barry, who for once remained silent. He was caught and he knew it—so did the rest of us.

  Calhoun, however, wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. “That’s enough. I’m tired of your insinuations. My agents were doing their job; they most certainly did nothing wrong,” he spouted.

  I’d had enough, too.

  “Deputy Calhoun, as if withholding Nadia’s identity from the prosecutor, interfering with a murder investigation, stealing evidence from the Mayflower, Nadia’s home, and even removing the labels from her clothing weren’t enough, how about telling the prosecutor that another crucial witness works for you—one Claudia Ellis, who happens to be the Senator’s current love interest.”

  He looked stunned, not by my accusation; he was stunned I knew. Claudia should have never handed me the napkin with her cell phone number on it.

  “Yes, Claudia, the young staffer who is the Senator’s current paramour. The same woman who was at the table at the banquet and saw Ginger slip Billy a knockout drug. The same woman who slept with Billy’s agent that night to find out what he knew about Billy’s father. She is on the FBI’s payroll as well as the Senate’s. She called Mr. Calhoun, not the Senator, when she received her subpoena. She also called Mr. Calhoun the night of the murder. Deputy Calhoun, perhaps you’d liked to tell the Attorney General about those conversations?”

  Peggy turned and got in Calhoun’s face.

  “Please tell me Jack isn’t telling the truth. Tell me the FBI doesn’t employ women to sleep with senators. Tell me that a witness who can exonerate Billy Hopper isn’t withholding exculpatory evidence on your orders.”

  Calhoun’s tone was derisive. “Ms. Fortson, you are naïve. The FBI does what it has to do. Our national security is involved. That’s all that matters. You have no idea what we have uncovered.”

  National security. That old sacred cow that justifies anything these days—violations of privacy, lies to Congress, and now employment of paramours. I hadn’t really known the full extent of Claudia’s involvement with the FBI. I’d exaggerated a little, and Calhoun had taken the bait. All in the name of national security, right?

  The Attorney General appeared to be in a bit of a fog, so I looked to Peggy. I almost felt bad about dumping this mess in her lap.

  “If I may…” Peggy began. He nodded in relief.

  “Connie, we’ve heard a lot today. I’m not going to tell you how to run your case, but I think we’ve heard enough to give the case a new and fresh look at a minimum. I would suggest that Mr. Hopper be relea
sed into the custody of Ms. Lawrence and Mr. Patterson. I would also suggest that the D.C. Police take over the investigation of the murder of Ms. Nikolov as well as the attempted murder of Mr. Patterson. If you agree, the FBI will have no involvement in either case for the present time. I will make sure of that. Given the probable existence of an ongoing investigation by the FBI that seems to have relevance to your investigation, all coordination will come through my office. Does that make sense?” Peggy was being very diplomatic, suggesting not ordering.

  Peggy continued. “Mr. Patterson, you have assembled quite a bit of evidence. I hope you can work with this office and Ms. Montgomery’s office without compromising the defense of your client. I hope you will withdraw your subpoena of the Senator for the time being. He’s not going anywhere.”

  I didn’t respond.

  Constance finally spoke up. Her jaw was set.

  “I’m prepared to go further, Deputy Fortson, if there are no objections. I am going to dismiss the indictment of Mr. Hopper without prejudice. We can always file charges if we find new evidence. He will be released from jail as early as this afternoon, and I will issue a press release saying that we have come across newly discovered evidence that appears to exonerate him completely. To be honest, the FBI has tainted this investigation to such a degree I’m not sure I could obtain a conviction of anyone, much less the real perpetrator, but I’m going to try.

  “I hope Mr. Hopper’s defense team will cooperate with my investigation and share with me what you can in the way of evidence. To that end, you have in your custody two women who at this point are our only connection to Logan Aerospace and the murderer. I need to speak to them sooner rather than later. If what you say is true, they belong in protective custody.”