The Best Laid Plans (22 page)

"Two."

"You have a deal. Talk."

"My girlfriend's a telephone operator at the Monroe Arms."

"What's her name?"

"JoAnn McGrath."

Lonergan made a note. "So?"

"Someone in the Imperial Suite made a telephone call to the White House during the time the girl was there."

"I think the president is involved," Leslie Stewart had said. "Are you sure about this?"

"Horse's mouth."

"I'll check it out. If it's true, you'll get your money. Have you mentioned this to anyone else?"

"Nope."

"Good. Don't." Lonergan rose. "We'll keep in touch."

"There's one more thing," Cooper said.

Lonergan stopped. "Yes?"

"You've got to keep me out of this. I don't want JoAnn to know that I talked to anyone about it."

"No problem."

And Alex Cooper was alone, thinking about how he was going to spend the two thousand dollars without JoAnn's knowing about it.

T7O

The Monroe Arms switchboard was in a cubicle behind the lobby reception desk. When Lonergan walked in carrying a clipboard, JoAnn McGrath was on duty. She was saying into the mouthpiece, "I'm ringing for you.

She connected a call and turned to Lonergan. "Can I help you?

"Telephone Company," Lonergan said. He flashed some identification "We have a problem here." JoAnn McGrath looked at him, surprised "What kind of problem?" "Someone reported that they're being charged for calls they didn't make." He pretended to consult the clipboard "October fifteenth. They were charged for a call to Germany, and they don't even know anyone in Germany. They're pretty teed off." "Well, I don't know anything about that," JoAnn said indignantly. "I don't even remember placing any calls to Germany in the last month." "Do you have a record of the fifteenth?" "Of course." "I'd like to see it." "Very well." She found a folder under a pile of papers and handed it to him The switchboard was buzzing. While she attended to the calls, Lonergan quickly went through the folder. October I2th ... i3th ... i4th .. i6th ... The page for the fifteenth was missing.

Frank Lonergan was waiting in the lobby of the Four Seasons when Jackie Houston returned from the White House. "Governor Houston?" She turned. "Yes?" "Frank Lonergan. I'm with the Washington Tribune. I want to tell you how sorry all of us are, Governor." "Thank you." "I wonder if I could talk to you for a minute?" "I'm really not in the "I might be able to be helpful." He nodded toward the lounge off the main lobby. "Could we go in there for a moment?" She took a deep breath. "All right." They walked into the lounge and sat down. "I understand that your daughter went on a tour of the White House the day she..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. "Yes. She she was on a tour with her school friends. She was very excited about meeting the president." Lonergan kept his voice casual. "She was going to see President Russell?" "Yes. I arranged it. We're old friends." "And did she see him, Governor Houston?" "No. He wasn't able to see her." Her voice was choked. "There's one thing I'm sure of." "Yes, ma'am."

"Paul Yerby didn't kill her. They were in love with each other."

"But the police said "

"I don't care what they said. They arrested an innocent boy, and he he was so upset that he hanged himself. It's awful."

Frank Lonergan studied her for a moment. "If Paul Yerby didn't kill your daughter, do you have any idea who might have? I mean, did she say anything about meeting anyone in Washington?"

"No. She didn't know a soul here. She was so looking forward to .. to ..." Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I'm sorry. You'll have to excuse me."

"Of course. Thanks for your time, Governor Houston."

Lonergan's next stop was at the morgue. Helen Chuan was just coming out of the autopsy room. "Well, look who's here." "Hi, Doc." "What brings you down here, Frank?" "I wanted to talk to you about Paul Yerby." Helen Chuan sighed. "It's a damn shame. Those kids were both so young." "Why would a boy like that commit suicide?" Helen Chuan shrugged. "Who knows?" "I mean are you sure he committed suicide?

"If he didn't, he gave a great imitation. His belt was wrapped around his neck so tightly that they had to cut it in half to bring him down."

"There were no other marks or anything on his body that might have suggested foul play?"

She looked at him, curious. "No."

Lonergan nodded. "Okay. Thanks. You don't want to keep your patients waiting."

"Very funny."

There was a phone booth in the outside corridor. From the Denver information operator, Lonergan got the number of Paul Yerby's parents Mrs. Yerby answered the phone. Her voice sounded weary. "Hello.

"Mrs. Yerby?" "Yes." "I'm sorry to bother you. This is Frank Lonergan. I'm with the Washington Tribune. I wanted to " "I can't...

A moment later, Mr. Yerby was on the line. "I'm sorry. My wife is ... Newspapers have been bothering us all morning. We don't want to "This will only take a minute, Mr. Yerby. There are some people in Washington who don't believe your son killed Chloe Houston." "Of course he didn't!" His voice suddenly became stronger. "Paul could never, never have done anything like that."

"Did Paul have any friends in Washington, Mr. Yerby?" "No. He didn't know anyone there." "I see. Well, if there's anything I can do ...

"There is something you can do for us, Mr. Lonergan. We've arranged to have Paul's body shipped back here, but I'm not sure how to get his possessions. We'd like to have whatever he ... If you could tell me who to talk to ..." "I can handle that for you." "We'd appreciate it Thank you."

In the Homicide Branch office, the sergeant on duty was opening a carton containing Paul Yerby's personal effects. "There's not much in it," he said. "Just the kid's clothes and a camera."

Lonergan reached into the box and picked up a black leather belt.

It was uncut.

When Frank Lonergan walked into the office of President Russell's appointments secretary, Deborah Kanner, she was getting ready to leave for lunch. "What can I do for you, Frank?" "I've got a problem, Deborah." "What else is new?" Frank Lonergan pretended to look at some notes. "I have information that on October fifteenth the president had a secret meeting here with an emissary from China to talk about Tibet."

"I don't know of any such meeting."

"Could you just check it out for me?"

"What did you say the date was?"

"October fifteenth." Loriergan watched as Deborah pulled an appointment book from a drawer and skimmed through it.

"October fifteenth? What time was this meeting supposed to be?"

"Ten P. M." here in the Oval Office."

She shook her head. "Nope. At ten o'clock that night the president was in a meeting with General Whitman."

Lonergan frowned. "That's not what I heard. Could I have a look at that book?"

"Sorry. It's confidential, Frank."

"Maybe I got a bum steer. Thanks, Deborah." He left.

Thirty minutes later, Frank Lonergan was talking to General Steve Whitman. "General, the Tribune would like to do some coverage on the meeting you had with the president on October fifteenth. I understand some important points were discussed." The general shook his head. "I don't know where you get your information, Mr. Lonergan. That meeting was called off. The president had another appointment." "Are you sure?"

"Yes. We're going to reschedule it." "Thank you, General."

Frank Lonergan returned to the White House. He walked into Deborah Kanner's office again. "What is it this time, Frank?" "Same thing, Lonergan said ruefully. "My informant swears that at ten o'clock on the night of October fifteenth the president was here in a meeting with a Chinese emissary to discuss Tibet." She looked at him, exasperated "How many times do I have to tell you that there was no such meeting?

Lonergan sighed. "Frankly, I don't know what to do. My boss really wants to run that story. It's big news. I guess we'll just have to go with it." He started toward the door. "Wait a minute!" He turned "Yes?" "You can't run that story. It's not true. The president will be furious." "It's not my decision." Deborah hesitated. "If I can prove to you that he was meeting with General Whitman, will you forget about it?" "Sure. I don't want to cause any problems." Lonergan watched Deborah pull the appointment book out again and flip the pages "Here's a list of the president's appointments for that date. Look October fifteenth." There were two pages of listings. Deborah pointed to a 10:00 P. M. entry. "There it is, in black and white." "You're right," Lonergan said. He was busy scanning the page. There was an entry at three o'clock. Chloe Houston.

Nineteen.

The hastily called meeting in the Oval Office had been going on for only a few minutes and the air was already crackling with dissension The secretary of defense was saying, "If we delay any longer, the situation is going to get completely out of control. It will be too late to stop it." "We can't rush into this." General Stephen Gossard turned to the head of the CIA. "How hard is your information?" "It's difficult to say. We're fairly certain that Libya is buying a variety of weapons from Iran and China." Oliver turned to the secretary of state. "Libya denies it?" "Of course. So do China and Iran." Oliver asked, "What about the other Arab states?"

The CIA chief responded. "From the information I have, Mr. President, if a serious attack is launched on Israel, I think it's going to be the excuse that all the other Arab states have been waiting for. They'll join in to wipe Israel out."

They were all looking at Oliver expectantly. "Do you have reliable assets in Libya?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"I want an update. Keep me informed. If there are signs of an attack, we have no choice but to move."

The meeting was adjourned.

Oliver's secretary's voice came over the intercom. "Mr. Tager would like to see you, Mr. President."

"Have him come in."

"How did the meeting go?" Peter Tager asked. "Oh, it was just your average meeting," Oliver said bitterly, "about whether I want to start a war now or later." Tager said sympathetically, "It goes with the territory." "Right." "Something of interest has come up." "Sit down." Peter Tager took a seat. "What do you know about the United Arab Emirates?" "Not a lot," Oliver said. "Five or six Arab states got together twenty years ago or so and formed a coalition." "Seven of them. They joined together in 1971. Abu Dhabi, Fujaira, Dubai, Sharjah, Ras al-Khaimah, Umm al-Qaiwan, and Ajman. When they started out, they weren't very strong, but the Emirates have been incredibly well run. Today they have one of the world's highest standards of living. Their gross domestic product last year was over thirty-nine billion dollars."

Oliver said impatiently, "I assume there's a point to this, Peter?"

"Yes, sir. The head of the council of the United Arab Emirates wants to meet with you."

"All right. I'll have the secretary of defense "

"Today. In private."

"Are you serious? I couldn't possibly "

"Oliver, the Majus their council is one of the most important Arab influences in the world. It has the respect of every other Arab nation. This could be an important breakthrough. I know this is unorthodox, but I think you should meet with them."

"State would have a fit if I "

"I'll make the arrangements."

There was a long silence. "Where do they want to meet?"

"They have a yacht anchored in Chesapeake Bay, near Annapolis. I can get you there quietly."

Oliver sat there, studying the ceiling. Finally, he leaned forward and pressed down the intercom switch. "Cancel my appointments for this afternoon."

The yacht, a 212-foot Feadship, was moored at the dock. They were waiting for him. All the crew members were Arabs.

"Welcome, Mr. President." It was Ali al-Fulani, the secretary at one of the United Arab Emirates. "Please come aboard." Oliver stepped aboard and Ali al-Fulani signaled to one of the men. A few moments later, the yacht was underway. "Shall we go below?" Right. Where I can be killed or kidnapped. This is the stupidest thing I have ever done, Oliver decided. Maybe they brought me here so they can begin their attack on Israel, and I won't be able to give orders to retaliate. Why the hell did I let Tager talk me into this? Oliver followed Ali al-Fulani downstairs into the sumptuous main saloon, which was decorated in Middle Eastern style. There were four muscular Arabs standing on guard in the saloon. An imposing-looking man seated on the couch rose as Oliver came in. Ali al-Fulani said, "Mr. President, His Majesty King Hamad of Ajman." The two men shook hands. "Your Majesty." "Thank you for coming, Mr. President. Would you care for some tea?" "No, thank you." "I believe you will find this visit well worth your while." King Hamad began to pace. "Mr. President, over the centuries, it has been difficult, if not impossible, to bridge the problems that divide us philosophical, linguistic, religious, cultural Those are the reasons there have been so many wars in our part of the world. If Jews confiscate the land of Palestinians, no one in Omaha or Kansas is affected. Their lives go on the same. If a synagogue in Jerusalem is bombed, the Italians in Rome and Venice pay no attention.

Oliver wondered where this was heading. Was it a warning of a coming war? "There is only one part of the world that suffers from all the wars and bloodshed in the Middle East. And that is the Middle East.

He sat down across from Oliver. "It is time for us to put a stop to this madness." Here it comes, Oliver thought. "The heads of the Arab states and the Majlis have authorized me to make you an offer." "What kind of an offer?" "An offer of peace." Oliver blinked. "Peace?

"We want to make peace with your ally, Israel. Your embargoes against Iran and other Arab countries have cost us untold billions of dollars We want to put an end to that. If the United States will act as a sponsor, the Arab countries including Iran, Libya, and Syria have agreed to sit down and negotiate a permanent peace treaty with Israel.

Oliver was stunned. When he found his voice, he said, "You're doing this because " "I assure you it is not out of love for the Israelis or for the Americans. It is in our own interests. Too many of our sons have been killed in this madness. We want it to end. It is enough. We want to be free to sell all our oil to the world again. We are prepared to go to war if necessary, but we would prefer peace."