TRAFFIC ON THE WASHINGTON MEMORIAL PARKWAY WAS heavy, though most of it was headed toward the city, and not north, along the river. Already the morning was hot, humid and hazy, and only when the Mercedes convertible turned off the main highway up the Bureau of Public Roads' treelined entry road, was there any relief.
“I'm here to speak with Phil Carrara,” Kathleen McGarvey told the gate guard. “I didn't make an appointment, but if you'll just tell him who it is, he'll see me.”
“Yes, ma'am,” the guard said, and went back into the glass-fronted hut.
During the few minutes it took him, there was a steady stream of traffic into the CIA Headquarters. Most spies, Katheleen reflected, were nine-to-fivers like the rest of official Washington. She'd had the misfortune of picking one who wasn't.
“Someone will meet you in the lobby, Mrs. McGarvey,” the guard said, giving her her visitor's passes. “Just to the right after the clearing.”
“I know the way,” Kathleen said, and she drove up the hill. It'd been years since her one visit here, and she'd vowed then never to come back. Now she was frightened. The same old fear as in the early days. This time it was the call.
She signed in with the guards in the lobby, and after her purse was searched, a young man who said his name was Chilton escorted her up to the DDO's office on the third floor.
Carrara was waiting for her at the door to the office. “This is certainly a surprise, Mrs. McGarvey.”
“Not a pleasant one, I'm sure,” Kathleen said, preceding him into his office and taking a seat in front of his desk. She wore a crisply tailored off-white linen suit, and a pastel green blouse with matching shoes and broad-brimmed hat.
“The Agency regrets the intrusion of your house the other day,” Carrara said going around behind his desk. “But if there's anything I can do personally ⦔
“I want to know where Kirk has gone off to this time,” she said.
“I'm sorry, Mrs. McGarvey but I don't know anything â¦
“Short of that I want to get a message to him.” She crossed her legs. “I won't leave here until I get what I've come for. And if need be, I'll speak with the general.”
“I don't know if that will be possible, this morning,” he replied, and for the first time Kathleen noticed that something was wrong. It looked as if he hadn't slept or shaved in a week. His complexion was pale, and his eyes bloodshot.
“I'll wait right here if I have to,” she said. “Kirk is on another assignment for you, and I must get word to him.”
“He told you that, Mrs. McGarvey?” Carrara asked sharply.
“Not in so many words. But I know him. One day he is here, and the next day, after your people show up at my front door, he disappears. I merely put two and two together.”
“I'm sorry,” Carrara said tiredly. “I don't know where he is. And even if I did I could not tell you. I'll have you escorted back downstairs to your car.”
“You're lying! You're hiding something. And believe me, I mean to have it out today. I won't take no for an answer.”
Carrara stared at her for a long moment or two. “What's so important that you need to get a message to him at this moment? Can't it wait?”
“I'd rather not say.”
Carrara shrugged. “We won't deliver secret messages, Mrs. McGarvey.”
“That's ludicrous coming from a man like you in a place like this.”
“Nevertheless.”
“The last time we saw each other I kicked him out of my house. I want to tell him that I was ⦠wrong. That I'm sorry.”
Carrara said nothing. It was obvious he didn't believe her.
“If he gets killed it'll be too late,” she said, raising her voice.
“I repeat, Mrs. McGarvey, what makes you believe that your husband is working for us?”
Kathleen looked away. It was probably a mistake coming here like this. Something important was apparently going on. Something that was worrying the Deputy Director of Operations. And whatever that was, it had to be big. But now that she was here, now that she had come this far, she was determined to see it through. She owed that much to Kirk, and to herself.
“Are you going to allow me to get a message to him?” she asked, looking back.
“Not without more information. I'm sorry, but no.”
“Then I want to speak with General Murphy.”
“The Director is not available today.”
“I don't believe you,” Kathleen said. “If need be I'll march directly over to the Hill and raise such a stink with the Joint Intelligence Committee, several members of which are regulars at my home, that all of Washington will hear about it.”
Carrara sighed. “Very well,” he said, and he picked up his phone. “Ask the director if I may bring Mrs. McGarvey upstairs this morning to have a word with him.”
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The Asia Center of Japan Hotel was near the center of Tokyo and barely fifteen minutes on foot from the Roppongi District and the American Embassy. McGarvey stood at the window of their tiny third-floor room, watching the late night traffic below on the street as he waited for his call to the States to go through.
He'd picked up Kelly Fuller in the lobby of the ANA Tokyo Hotel, and then checked in there to leave a track. Later
they'd come over to this smaller and far less conspicuous hotel that she had assured him catered to foreigners. No one would notice him here, nor had he been required to show his passport or any identification when he'd registered under the German workname Rolf Eiger.
For the time being at least he figured that he and Kelly would be safe here. Sooner or later he was going to have to get word to Carrara about what happened. But first he wanted to make sure that their backs were covered.
“Anything?” she asked, coming out of the postage-stamp bathroom.
He turned away from the window and shook his head. “I think we'll be all right here for a day or so. But we'll have to keep on the move, or find a better place.”
“Until when?”
“Until I finish what I was sent here to do.”
“Which is?” she asked, her voice brittle.
“Find out who killed Shirley, and Mowry, and why,” McGarvey answered. “If you want out, I can arrange it.”
She looked at him, a wistful set to her mouth, but then she turned away. “I'll stay. Besides, there's no place I could go where they wouldn't find me eventually now that they know my face.”
The telephone on the bedstand rang, and McGarvey answered it. “Yes?”
“I have your party,” the operator said, and the connection was made.
“Otto, have you made any progress yet?” McGarvey asked. It was 9:00 in the morning, Washington time.
“I tried to find you. But no one knows were you are, or they're not admitting it,” Rencke said. “This is getting really weird.”
McGarvey's gut tightened. “Who'd you call?” he asked, keeping his voice normal.
“Not actually call, except for your ex. But you're on the computer across the river.”
“Listen to me now. I don't want you trying to make any
personal contacts. I want you to wait for me to call you. No matter how important it is. Do you understand?”
“Oh, sure, but listen up,
compadre
, the people over there are definitely looking for you. And worse than that they're beginning to suspect a mouse in the pantry.”
“Meaning you?”
“Bingo. But I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve if you want me to go for broke.”
“Have you found anything so far?”
“Only in the negative sense. It's definitely not the government. Nor is there any ⦠material missing from their power plants, if you catch my drift. So whoever is going for the bacon isn't picking it up at home.”
“I need the help, but it's up to you,” McGarvey said carefully. “You know what's happened already. Including the latest?”
“It may take a little while, but I'll stick with it. I hate getting pushed around, you know. And besides, I'm out of Twinkies again.”
“I'll buy you a carload.”
“I'll hold you to it.”
McGarvey got the stateside operator back, and had her place a call to Kathleen's number. But there was no answer, and hanging up he tried to put her out of his mind. Rencke had called her. She'd told him nothing, because she knew nothing. And that was the end of it. He hoped.
ROLAND MURPHY GOT UP AND CAME AROUND FROM BEHIND HIS desk as Kathleen McGarvey entered his big office with Phil Carrara. Another, prim-looking man, who'd been seated on a leather couch across the room, languidly got to his feet at the same time. He was scowling.
“Kathleen, what an unexpected pleasure,” the DCI said.
“It's good of you to see me on such short notice, General,” she said. They shook hands.
“Have you met our General Counsel, Howard Ryan?”
“No,” Kathleen said, exchanging glances with the man. “I won't take up much of your time this morning. I simply need a little of your help, and I'll be off.”
The DCI motioned for her to take a seat, and when she was settled he went back to his own chair behind his desk. Carrara remained standing by the door, and Ryan perched on the arm of the couch. For a moment it felt to Kathleen as if she were in for an inquisition. But then her reception was nothing less than she'd expected.
“I'm assuming that your visit to us this morning has something to do with your ex-husband,” Murphy said.
“Mrs. McGarvey is of the opinion that Kirk is working for us,” Carrara said.
“What makes you think so?” Murphy asked. “Did Kirk tell you that himself? Did he tell you that he'd taken on an assignment for us?”
“He didn't have to. I know him well enough to know when he is off in the bush.”
“Apparently you don't know him well enough to keep him,” Ryan said.
Kathleen shot him a dirty look, and she started to say something, but changed her mind. She'd heard about him. They called him the “toy spy.”
“Let's assume for the moment that he is on assignment for us,” the DCI said. “You understand that we could not confirm or deny it, let alone tell you where he was. You do know that.”
Kathleen nodded. She'd gotten at least part of what she'd come for, and it didn't make her happy. “I want you to get a message to him.”
“That might not be possible, Kathleen.”
“Tell him to come home. Immediately. His family needs him.”
“Just what's that supposed to mean ⦠Ryan said, but Murphy cut him off.
“Even if he was working for us, would you expect me to pass such a message to him?” Murphy asked.
“Yes,” Kathleen said. “And in exactly those words. Shall I repeat them?”
Murphy stared at her for a long second, but then shook his head. “It's not necessary.”
“Well?” she asked.
“I'll do what I can. But let me ask you something. Do you believe that you are in some danger?”
Kathleen was startled. It was exactly what she believed because of the warning she'd received, but hearing it here was disquieting. “Am I in some danger, General?” she asked, keeping her true feelings out of her voice.
“No,” Murphy said. “No more than any of us are who live in Washington.”
“Somehow that's no comfort,” Kathleen said rising. “See that Kirk gets that message.”
“I'll do what I can,” Murphy said.
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“That was some cryptic message,” Murphy said when Carrara returned from escorting Kathleen downstairs. “Any thoughts on it, Phil?”
“Well, besides his ex-wife, he's got a daughter attending school in Switzerland, and a sister, her husband and a couple of kids out west somewhere. Utah, I think. Mother and father are dead. And so far as I know there's no one else.”
“What'd she say to you on the way downstairs?” Ryan asked.
“Nothing. Not a word.”
“What about this daughter in Switzerland?” Murphy asked. “Could there be any connection between her and Lausanne? Do you think Spranger's people might go after her?”
Carrara shook his head. “There's no reason for them to believe at this moment that McGarvey is investigating them. And of course after what's happened in Tokyo, he might have his hands full over there for the foreseeable future.”
“Any word from him yet?”
“Nothing,” Carrara said. “But what about his ex-wife's request? We're not going to send that sort of a message to him, are we?”
“Of course not,” the DCI replied. “But what was the hidden message?”
“Maybe there wasn't one. From what I understand McGarvey was on his way here in any event to try to get back together with her.”
Ryan sniggered.
“You believe she wants him back?”
“It may be nothing more than that.”
“Why did she come out here then?” Murphy asked.
“She's a bright woman, General. We showed up at her house looking for Kirk, and he suddenly disappears. We either arrested him, or sent him off on assignment. She's seen the precedents.”
“Have her followed,” Ryan suggested.
“I don't think that's such a good idea,” Carrara said. “As I say, she's an intelligent woman. If she were to get wind that we were watching her, she could raise a stink. She knows half of Washington.”
“For the moment I'm going to go along with Phil,”
Murphy said. “But I think I'll have the Bureau put a tap on her telephone. Just for the next few days or so. If she makes any kind of a move, we'll step in.”
“We shouldn't have any problems with that,” Ryan said. “I can make a decent case of the request, considering what McGarvey is doing. Might take twenty-four hours though.”
“See to it, Howard. But I want to come back to my original question. Her message was cryptic. Does she know something? Did Kirk tell her some of his little secrets? Or is it possible after all that someone has gotten to her?”
“Do you mean the East Germans?” Carrara asked.
“Or the Japanese.”
“It's possible.”
“A soft kidnapping,” Murphy said. “Get a message to your husband, Mrs. McGarvey. Tell him to back off or we'll come after you.”
“As I say, General, it's possible,” Carrara answered.
“I'm not asking that, Phil. Anything is possible. What I am asking you, is it probable?”
Carrara shook his head. “I don't think so.”
“Why?”
“She would have screamed bloody murder.”
Murphy looked away. “Maybe she did, and we didn't listen.”