by Mark Gilleo
“When?”
“A couple of years ago. After he was sent to prison on drug charges. He got out of jail, and shortly thereafter he paid me a visit. I guess he’d lost a lot of his business while he was in prison and he was looking for some quick money.”
“And the statute of limitations on federal jury tampering is five years.”
“Yes, five years. I researched that myself when he approached me. Five years. Tyrone Biggs couldn’t be charged with jury tampering in the H2O trial so he was free to blackmail me.”
“The same statute of limitations applied to you. You couldn’t be charged with accepting bribes in the H2O trial either. You didn’t have to be blackmailed.”
“If I lived in any other city in the US and were married to any normal man, that would have been the end of the story. But not in this town.”
Dan nodded.
“Tyrone Biggs understood that in this town, politics don’t operate on truths or fact. You only need the whisper of an indiscretion to end a political career. Just a whisper of a rumor.”
“And Tyrone Biggs was willing to start that rumor.”
“Yes. I don’t think he was worried about how it would reflect on him. Legally, he was untouchable on the rumor. As you said, the statute of limitations had passed. But that didn’t mean the rumor wouldn’t kill my husband’s political career.”
“So Tyrone Biggs blackmailed you. He threatened to end your husband’s political career by starting a rumor that a congressman’s wife took a bribe while on jury duty for a drug lord. And in order to keep quiet, he wanted money.”
“He knew I had money. Or he knew that my husband came from money. A lot of money. That didn’t take a genius to figure out.”
“Did you pay him?”
“No. I never did. I figured once I paid him, it was never going to end.”
“You were right. It wouldn’t have ended.” Dan sat in silence for a moment as tears ran down Sherry Wellington’s face.
“You are a survivor, Sherry. I’ll give you that,” Dan said.
“What’s next for me?”
“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. You’re going to say goodbye and then I’m going to walk out of here. With one more caveat.”
“Another stipulation?”
“There is another.”
“What?”
“If by chance you have done something stupid and kept the weapon you used to kill Tyrone Biggs, you need to lose it.”
Sherry sat in unmoved silence before speaking. “What would make you say that?”
“You have an alibi for the night Tyrone Biggs was killed. But I’m guessing if I checked into it, your husband wouldn’t have an alibi. I can think of a few scenarios where your husband could find himself in hot water if that gun were found in his possession. It’s possible you used one of your husband’s guns and returned it without his knowledge. As an insurance policy for your own future.”
“Enough,” Sherry said, tears streaming.
Dan paused for effect. “Do we understand each other?”
“Yes.”
“If I ever hear about that gun in the news in connection with Tyrone Biggs, you will hear from me and so will the authorities. Who knows, maybe I already have a picture of you from a surveillance camera the night Tyrone was killed. A photograph that shows you were driving in the direction of Anacostia when you say you were in Pittsburgh.”
Sherry wiped at the tears on her face. “I understand. What I don’t understand is why you’re letting me walk away.”
Dan took a sip of his wine. “Because there are no winners in this whole thing. None. And as much distaste as I have for politicians, your husband didn’t do anything wrong. He may well be a good man. He married a waitress who had a child and he gave you an opportunity for a life. We are going to leave that where it is.”
Sherry stared off in the direction of the front window and nodded.
Chapter 59
Dan placed the cafeteria’s plastic tray on the white circular table. Detective Wallace started to stand from his chair for a proper handshake and Dan urged the detective to remain seated.
“Don’t get up.”
“How did you find me?”
“The nurse on your floor told me you were down here.”
“Police privileges. Don’t have to eat in my room. Not that the cafeteria food is anything special.”
Dan sat and looked out the window. Traffic from the GWU campus crisscrossed the quad below. An endless stream of bodies entered and exited the Foggy Bottom Metro station. A line of students stood near the curb by a trio of food trucks. A man with a box of magic paraphernalia sat on a park bench, taking a break.
“You say the food’s not good, but the entertainment out the window seems decent. No shortage of things going on,” Dan said.
“That’s why I’m here. There was a guy selling drugs out there earlier.”
“Did you call it in?”
“I did, but he vanished into the Metro as soon as he saw a uniform.”
“The nurse said you’re going home later today.”
“Just waiting for my doctor to sign me out. He’s been in surgery most of the morning.”
“How’s the shoulder?”
“It hurts like hell,” Wallace replied, glancing down at the sling on his arm.
“And it may hurt like hell for a while.”
“Thanks for the optimism.”
“The shoulder is a complicated joint. It may never feel the same.”
“You bring any good news with you?”
“Lots. For starters, we’re done working together.”
“I heard about the guy blowing out his brains all over the inside of his car.”
“I was there, it wasn’t pretty.”
“Did you hear they identified him?” Wallace asked.
“I didn’t.”
“Angel Reyes. An American, born to undocumented Mexican parents.”
“And what was his relationship to Richard Porter?” Dan asked.
“Turns out that one of the companies Porter started and ran was a flash drive manufacturer. A few years ago, before he sold it, Porter moved the company south of the border to take advantage of the lower wages. When he sold the company, it was just outside Tijuana. It looks like Angel had connections with some of the security employees at this Mexican factory. And so did Richard Porter, obviously.”
“So Angel was American?”
“Born in Texas but ended up working security in Mexico.”
“Security in Mexico? That’s an oxymoron,” Dan said.
“It gets better. As near as we can tell, Angel had a business relationship with a known drug cartel. He was stopped a couple of times in the US, heading south, with weapons in his vehicle. All of the weapons were legally owned. You can imagine the final destination for the weapons was anything but legal.”
“And Richard Porter hired him.”
“After Richard Porter lost his daughter and his wife, he started making inquiries. Enough money can buy just about anything. Especially south of the border. Richard Porter apparently dangled a large enough carrot to get the attention of Angel Reyes.”
“And the rest is history,” Dan said.
“Something like that,” Detective Wallace said. A long silence fell over the two men.
“We found the rifle from the sniper killing in Spring Valley.”
“Where was it?” Dan asked.
“In the canal. Not far from Chain Bridge.”
“Was there a match on ballistics?”
“Still waiting for results. But it looks promising.”
“That’s good detective work, Wallace. I’m not sure many people would have cracked that case.”
“Thanks,” Wallace replied, staring out the window. “Before you hear it any place else, you should know I’m thinking about retiring.”
“Retiring?”
“Yes. It’s been a long run. I’m facing a good chunk of rehabilitation with the shoulder. I thi
nk it’s time.”
“Does your wife think it’s time?”
“I haven’t told her yet.”
“You might want to run that by her first. She may not be ready to have you at home every day.”
“I’ll have to think about that.”
Dan considered his next statement for a moment. “You know, from time to time I could probably use help on the private detective front. If you’re interested.”
“Are you offering me a job, Dan?”
“Part-time employment.”
“I’ll have to think about that, too.”
“See what your wife says and let me know.”
“I will,” Wallace replied. “Speaking of asking women for their opinion, what’s the deal with Detective Fields?” Wallace asked.
“We’ll have to see,” Dan said.
“I don’t know if you’re going to do any better than Fields. She’s a looker. She’s smart. She can kick a little ass. Might be just what you need in your life.”
“We’ll see,” Dan repeated.
Both men stared out the window and then Dan glanced down at his watch. “I need to get going. I have something to do this afternoon.”
“Don’t let me keep you.”
“Think about the job offer,” Dan said, standing and shaking Wallace’s hand.
Chapter 60
Dan got out of the car and glanced around the green rolling landscape surrounding Tobias’s house on the hill. He inhaled the clean Middleburg air and opened the back door of his car, grasping for the end of the dog leash on the back seat. Without prodding, Peso leaped from the vehicle and began sniffing the ground.
Dan tugged once on the leash and led the large Rottweiler around the rear of the vehicle. At the passenger door, Dan gave Peso the command to sit and the dog complied, drool hanging from one side of its mouth. With Peso by his side, Dan reached onto the passenger seat and removed a black duffle bag. A moment later, Dan was heading towards the front porch with one hand firmly on the dog leash, the knuckles of his other hand wrapped tightly on the handle of the bag.
Tobias appeared at the door before Dan reached the steps.
“Is this the dog?” Tobias asked, stepping outside and looking down at Dan.
“This is her,” Dan replied. “Meet Peso, a three-year-old, ninety-pound Rottweiler with good manners.”
“And she was previously owned by an assassin?” Tobias asked with a hint of incredulity.
“Is that a problem?”
“Not for me.”
“Good. Because it would be odd for a hacker with a healthy disregard for the law to discriminate against a perfectly good dog based on its previous owner.”
“Is she trained?”
“Not as a security dog. But it seems she’ll put her mind to anything for a jerky treat. Training probably won’t take much effort.”
Tobias seemed to consider Dan’s assessment.
“And I’ll take her back if it doesn’t work out,” Dan offered.
Tobias nodded. “Then I’ll take her. On a trial basis.”
“That works for me,” Dan said, as a woman’s voice called out to Tobias from inside the house.
“Did you bring the money?” Tobias asked, pulling the door shut behind him.
“I did,” Dan replied, lifting the duffle bag.
Tobias took the bag and unzipped the top. “What’s this?” he asked, removing a plastic jar in the shape of a barrel.
“Those are jerky treats. I also brought some dog food with me. It’s in the trunk.”
Tobias reached into the bag a second time and pulled out a stack of money with a rubber band around the middle. “How much in total?”
“A hundred grand and change. Can you handle it?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem. But you’re going to owe me one.”
“Just make it untraceable.”
“Then what?”
“Then it gets deposited into a trust fund for a young girl who just lost her mother to cancer. The trust fund has already been established. Everything on that end is legitimate.”
“You never mentioned where this money came from.”
“If you believe a recently deceased client of mine, most of what you see in the bag was won at the new casino in Maryland.”
“That would make it clean already.”
“But I can’t guarantee it. There’s a chance that a serial number on one of those bills could show up as stolen in a bank robbery. All things considered, I would rather avoid that possibility. Which is why I’ve come to you.”
“A young girl who lost her mother?”
“That’s right. For a good cause.”
“But not without risk.”
Dan nodded.
Tobias zipped the bag closed.
“Let me get the dog food out of the trunk,” Dan said, handing the leash to Tobias.
A minute later, Dan lugged forty pounds of dog food up to the porch and set it down near the front door. Tobias scratched Peso on the ear and the big dog licked his new owner’s hand.
“I have my doubts about her ability as a guard dog,” Tobias said, motioning towards the affection the dog was showing his hand.
“Even if her bark is worse than her bite, that may be enough. Appearance alone should scare away most people.”
A woman’s voice called out for Tobias a second time.
“I’ll give you a call when I’m done with the money,” Tobias said, looking back over his shoulder.
“I’ll be waiting.”
“And then we can discuss the favor you owe me.”
“You already have something in mind?” Dan asked.
“I do. And you’re going to love it.”