Dark Ambition

by Allan Topol

  "I had nothing to do with that. I assure you."

  "You hired the Greeks who did this, didn't you?"

  "This time you're mistaken, Mr. Hartwell," Liu said coolly.

  Ben sat down, tucked his shirt back in, and pointed to the photographs Mark had taken. "But you hired that man."

  "Yes, I hired him."

  "And you hired the Greeks who beat me in London."

  "I had nothing to do with that. Anyone could have hired them."

  Michelle said, "Let's return to Mr. Winthrop."

  Ben shot her an irate look, but picked up on the hint. "You said that you had a telephone conversation with Mr. Winthrop the day after you met at his house. That's when he told you that he threw your video into the Potomac River?"

  Liu nodded.

  "What else did he say?"

  "He told me that he wouldn't resign. Also, he wouldn't change his policy on the arms package for Taiwan. He told me that our effort at blackmail was ridiculous because we wouldn't dare release that videotape. It would come back to haunt us, he said, and in any event he would survive the bad press and be in a position to punish my country. He was playing what you Americans call hardball."

  "Did you ever see or talk to him after that phone conversation?"

  "Never."

  "What did you do after that telephone conversation with Mr. Winthrop?"

  "I called Marshall Cunningham. I went to see him at his office at the Pentagon that afternoon."

  "So that would still be the day after your meeting at Winthrop's house?"

  "That's correct."

  "Why did you go to see Cunningham?"

  "To describe everything that had happened with Mr. Winthrop in the last twenty-four hours and to urge Mr. Cunningham to intervene and to compel Mr. Winthrop either to resign or to change the American government's policy on the Taiwan arms transaction."

  "Who else was at that meeting?"

  "Only the two of us."

  "Why did you select Cunningham to obtain support for your blackmail attempt?"

  Liu scowled and shook his head furiously. "I resent your characterization of my efforts at persuasion as blackmail."

  Ben glanced at Michelle, who was shaking her head at him. He revised the question. "Very well, why did you select Cunningham to help with your effort at persuasion?"

  Liu was happy to put all of this on the table. If Cunningham was trying to set Liu up to take the fall, he wouldn't sit back and let it happen.

  "I knew that Mr. Cunningham had a deeper understanding of the relationship between China and Taiwan, of political and military realities in Asia, and—"

  "And what?" Ben asked, ignoring Michelle's advice and interrupting Liu in midsentence.

  "Perhaps it's not appropriate."

  "I thought there was to be full cooperation."

  The ambassador looked at his legal aide, who nodded, and he continued. "I also knew that Mr. Cunningham and Mr. Winthrop disagreed on many issues, including Taiwan. I was hoping that Mr. Cunningham could use this evidence of Mr. Winthrop's personal indiscretions as the basis to force Mr. Winthrop from office."

  Ben paused for a minute to leaf through his yellow pad. He soon found what he was looking for. After he had left the White House last evening, he had gone through his notes and had carefully written down everything that was discussed while it was still fresh in his mind. Cunningham had said that he had not heard about the Chinese effort to blackmail Winthrop prior to the discussion last evening in the Oval Office. One of them was lying. Ben pressed on.

  "What exactly did Mr. Cunningham say at your meeting?"

  "He listened carefully to my report of the discussion the evening before with Mr. Winthrop, and my telephone conversation with Winthrop earlier in the day."

  "And then?"

  "I played the London video for him on the VCR in his office. I asked him if he wanted a copy."

  "Did he?"

  "He said that he collected wine, not porn movies."

  "What else did he say?"

  "He asked if I would agree to withhold releasing the video to the press and to take no action for a period of one month. He said that he hoped to be able to persuade Mr. Winthrop to resign in that month. I agreed to his request."

  "Then what happened?"

  "Nothing. Mr. Winthrop died within the month. I took no further action on this matter."

  "But you did steal back your tape from Mrs. Winthrop and a copy she made."

  "I recovered my property."

  "I must ask you, sir, were you involved in any way in the death of Robert Winthrop?"

  Ben expected Liu to react in indignation. Instead, there was only a tiny smile, with the edges of his mouth turning up ever so slightly, and the simple response, "No, Mr. Hartwell. Neither I nor any other official of my government had anything to do with the death of Secretary of State Winthrop."

  "Why should I believe you?" Ben asked, boring in. "With all the other things you've done here, why would you stop at murder?"

  "Because my government doesn't assassinate foreign leaders," he said in a clipped British accent. "We don't think that's proper behavior in the civilized world. Your government, on the other hand, has different moral standards. Witness what you tried to do with Saddam Hussein, Fidel Castro, and Qaddafi."

  Ben bristled, listening to this lecture coming from a diplomat whose government was responsible for the massacre at Tiananmen Square. No doubt, Ben thought, plenty of high Chinese officials had mistresses or used call girls. And what was more, secretly filming someone's sexual activities in a hotel room was hardly a high moral act. "At least we don't arrest and torture people who raise their voices against the government."

  Michelle reached over to touch Ben's hand, cautioning him to stick with the subject of this interview. He yanked away.

  Liu didn't need help, in any case. "You strike me as an intelligent man, Mr. Hartwell. You no doubt appreciate the irony here."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Your secretary of state purported to be supporting Taiwan for moral reasons, the honoring of American commitments. He felt good making that very moral, high-minded judgment. Yet, at the same time, that same secretary of state was behaving in his own life in a most immoral way, as the videotape that I handed to you demonstrates." His tone was not emotional but pedagogical. "To me, that's ironic. No, more precisely, it's hypocritical. Your Mr. Winthrop lost his moral compass. Don't you think so, Mr. Hartwell?"

  "What I think is that you, with your high-minded morality, hired a woman to kill Mr. Winthrop in order to gain a reversal of the United States' decision to sell certain arms to Taiwan. That's what I think."

  Liu clenched his fists. "Who made up such a ridiculous story?" he said in a quavering voice.

  "I think it's very clear from all the facts."

  Liu tapped his fingers abruptly on his desk. His brief show of emotion was over. "Though we had nothing to do with it," he said calmly, "personally, I'm not sorry someone killed Robert Winthrop. In fact, I'm pleased. The world needs statesmen who are principled and stick to those principles, regardless of whether I agree with them. The world doesn't need hypocrites who wear their morality like an overcoat—on those days and in those places where it suits them."

  Ben shrugged in boredom. He had gotten what he could from the interview. Tired of being lectured by Liu, he put away his legal pad.

  But the ambassador wasn't finished. He decided to go on the offensive. "I'll offer you a suggestion," Liu said, "in your search for Mr. Winthrop's killer."

  Ben looked up. "What's that?"

  "It's likely to be someone similar to Secretary of State Winthrop. Someone who also lost his own moral compass."

  "I appreciate the advice. More to the point, are you planning to remain in the country for the next week, or do I have to obtain a court order?"

  "I wouldn't consider leaving, Mr. Hartwell. I want to be right here when you find your killer—in order to accept your apology."

  * * *

&
nbsp; From the back of the limousine, Ben called the attorney general to report on his interview with Liu. Before he had a chance to focus Hawthorne's attention on the contradiction between what Liu and Cunningham had said about when Cunningham first learned about Liu's blackmail of Winthrop, the AG picked up on it.

  "I don't like that at all."

  Ben was relieved that he had an ally. "What do you think we should do?"

  "Without any warning, I'm sending two top FBI agents over to Cunningham's office to get any documents relating to his contacts with Liu, meeting logs and so forth."

  "Good idea."

  "Then I'm demanding that he come to my office for a four o'clock meeting this afternoon. Bring Jennifer with you. We'll see what he says about this contradiction."

  "That's great. Jennifer and I will be there at three to look at the documents."

  * * *

  To say that Marshall Cunningham was incensed when he walked into Hawthorne's office was one of the great understatements of all time. The man's face was bright red. He was scowling and his eyes were firing dirty looks, which, if they were laser beams, would be sawing through everything in sight.

  Ben wasn't intimidated. "We know you don't like doing this. We had no choice."

  Cunningham shot a look at Hawthorne. "You had no right removing files from my office when I wasn't there."

  The AG wasn't intimidated either. "I gave that order. The files belong to the United States government. Talk to the President if you don't like it."

  That ended the discussion. Cunningham knew that Brewster would approve of anything that might help to find Winthrop's killer. The four of them settled down around a conference table in the AG's office.

  Still, Cunningham remained on the attack. "So what did you find from this great search of my files?"

  Ben took his time answering. He refused to let Cunningham dictate the order of the discussion. "Let me tell you why we're bothering you."

  "Yeah?" Cunningham snarled.

  "We interviewed Liu this morning. There's a contradiction between what Liu said and what you told us at the meeting in the Oval Office yesterday evening. You said that last night was the first time you had heard of the Chinese effort to blackmail Winthrop."

  Cunningham didn't respond. He knew where this was going. Liu was trying to point a finger at him to distract Ben.

  "But Ambassador Liu told us this morning he came to your office at the Pentagon and talked to you about it the day after he was at Winthrop's house."

  Cunningham looked wary. "What difference does that make?"

  "Well, it affects Liu's credibility in general. If he was lying to me about this, then he might have been lying about other things. I'd have to reevaluate my conclusion that the Chinese weren't involved."

  Cunningham saw through Ben's ploy. It was a clever effort to get him to drop his guard, which he refused to do. Ben was looking at him innocently. Jennifer was on the edge of her chair, anxious to hear what Cunningham said.

  "You must have misunderstood what I told you last evening," Cunningham finally replied. "I never said that I didn't know about the Chinese blackmail attempt at the time. What I said, or at least what I meant to say, is that I never knew Ann made a tape of Winthrop's meeting with Liu until you told us about it yesterday."

  Ben hesitated. He had a precise recollection of what Cunningham had said last evening, which was consistent with his notes from the meeting. The man was lying now. There was no doubt about it. On the other hand, nothing would be gained by a frontal attack. He conceded, "I guess it's possible that I did misunderstand."

  "I'm sure of it. What was the date that the ambassador claims he came to see me?" Cunningham asked.

  "I think it was November second. The day after his meeting with Winthrop."

  "Well, is that right?" Cunningham said sarcastically. "You guys have my records."

  Ben looked at Jennifer, who opened up a black diary. "On November second," she said, "you had a three-thirty meeting with Ambassador Liu."

  He nodded. "I keep notes from most of my meetings and phone calls. I'm sure you found the notes from that meeting." His tone and mood had changed to arrogance. These people weren't about to nail him for anything. "So what do they show?"

  Jennifer handed him a white sheet of lined paper with handwriting on it. "I think it would be better if you read it."

  He took the page from her and glanced down. "My notes show that the Chinese ambassador told me he had an embarrassing video of Robert. It says here, 'He wants Robert to resign or change policy toward Taiwan. If not, he'll go public with the video. He'll agree to delay for thirty days release of the video.' "

  "What else?" she asked.

  "Underneath there's a note I made later in the day. Robert and I attended a briefing with President Brewster on the Middle East. I took Robert aside after we left the meeting with the President and asked him about what Ambassador Liu had said. My note reads, 'W is leaning toward resigning. I am hopeful.' "

  "What did you mean, you were hopeful?"

  "I meant that Robert was contrite and ashamed. He made it clear that he would probably resign within the thirty days. I always liked Robert. We were good friends. I thought, under the circumstances, that would be the best choice for him personally and for the administration. The President's chances for reelection would be destroyed by the release of that video." He handed the document to Hawthorne. "You can read it for yourself, Ches."

  Ben picked up the questioning. "Did you discuss the Chinese video with anyone else?"

  "I told Jim Slater about it shortly after this meeting."

  "What did he say?"

  "He just listened and nodded, the way he does."

  "What happened then?"

  "Nothing that I was involved in. I decided that I'd wait three weeks before I turned up the pressure on Robert, or get Brewster to talk to him. I didn't think I'd have to do that. As I said, I was convinced from what he told me that he would resign. Then he was killed, and that was the end of that." Cunningham paused. "Are you satisfied now?"

  Ben was convinced that Cunningham was lying, but he knew that he'd never be able to shake the former general. "I just have one other question. Does the name Alexandra Hart mean anything to you?"

  Cunningham looked perplexed. "Never heard the name. Why?"

  "Winthrop ever mention it to you?"

  "Never. Was she a girlfriend of his, or one of the girls the Chinese filmed him with in London?"

  "I'm not sure who she was. I'm just trying to find out who hired the blond shooter."

  "That's what we're all trying to do."

  * * *

  "I don't know what to think about Cunningham," Ben said.

  It was nine in the evening. They were seated around the dining room table in Ben's house with boxes of pizza in the center. Ben and Jennifer were on one side, Traynor and Campbell on the other, Ann at the end of the table. Amy was upstairs sleeping.

  "What about the contemporaneous notes of his meeting with Ambassador Liu?" Traynor asked.

  "For all we know, he could have prepared that piece of paper after our meeting last evening at the White House and backdated it."

  Jennifer turned to Ann. "Cunningham said that after Liu gave him the tape, Robert was leaning toward resigning."

  Ann choked on a piece of pizza. "That's a total crock." She took a sip of beer and cleared her throat. "In fact, I asked him whether he was going to resign. I wanted to know if we'd be moving back to New York."

  "What did he say?"

  "He replied in typical Robert Winthrop style. 'Fuck 'em. They're bluffing. I'm going to tough it out.' Something like that. The point is, he didn't seem worried at all by the Chinese threat."

  Trying to recall Cunningham's precise words, Ben asked, "Would you say that Robert was contrite and ashamed?"

  She laughed. "Robert? Are you kidding? You knew him, Jennifer. Try arrogant and bold if you want a couple of adjectives. But he was always like that. He cleaned up at poker because he'
d ride a pair of deuces so hard that everyone else would fold."

  "Do you know whether he ever talked to Marshall Cunningham about the Chinese government blackmail?"

  Ann closed her eyes, trying to remember. "You know, that same evening, the second of November, when I asked Robert whether he'd be resigning and we'd be moving back to New York, he said, 'You sound like Marshall. That's what he told me to do today. I told him "Hell, no." I'll tell you the same thing.' Then he launched into his diatribe, 'fuck 'em' and so forth."

  Ben looked around the table. "That doesn't really help us, though. Even assuming that Cunningham did lie to us, big whoop. Liu and Cunningham have managed to play off against each other so well that we're now at a total dead end. Alexandra Hart hasn't gotten us anywhere. There is absolutely nothing else we can do to find Winthrop's killer."

  He waited, hoping someone would challenge him with an idea.

  It was Jennifer who spoke up. "We still have one other chance."

  "What's that?"

  "Once our blond shooter comes out of a coma, she may be willing to talk if we can cut a deal with her."

  "And when will that happen?" Ben asked glumly.

  She returned his discouraged look. "I've got some information you're not going to like."

  "You can't make it any worse."

  "While you were interviewing Liu this morning, I talked to Dr. Marks, who's the attending for the shooter at G.W."

  "What'd he say?"

  "She. It's Dr. Deborah Marks. Could be tomorrow. Could be a week from now. Could be never."

  * * *

  Chen had no idea how long the beatings continued, how many men took turns pummeling him with their fists and clubs, or how many times he had passed out. His body was so battered and bruised that he prayed for death. But they were good at their work. They wouldn't let him die. Not until he told them who sent him on this mission.

  He didn't betray Donovan even after the beatings. They hooked up electrodes to his genitals and sent ever-increasing surges of electricity through his body, but he still didn't talk.