Carmichael’s secretary came over the intercom, breaking his train of thought. “Sir, Suzanne Brewer of Programs and Plans is asking for five minutes.”
He tapped the intercom button. “Send her in.”
Brewer stepped into the office, and Denny found himself impressed with just how good she looked, considering he knew she had been wandering around murder scenes at three thirty that morning.
As always, she was all business. “I just got the preliminary autopsy report on Babbitt. It doesn’t fit the witness statements at all.”
She handed the paper over the desk, and Carmichael took it. He adjusted his reading glasses and began skimming it. While doing so he asked, “What do you mean it doesn’t fit?”
“The coroner recovered fragments of a .308 round from Babbitt’s lung.”
“And?”
“That’s a rifle caliber.”
Carmichael looked over his glasses at the younger woman. “I am a marine, Suzanne. I know what kind of weapon fires a .308.”
“Of course you do. Forgive me, I’ve been talking to analysts all week. You know that’s a round commonly fired from a sniper rifle. Not always, but certainly it must be fired from a rifle. But the Townsend guards say they first encountered the masked subject in Babbitt’s backyard, less than forty yards away from where Babbitt was shot. Certainly not a sniper’s distance. Plus the subject was not carrying a rifle of any kind, nor was there a rifle found in Babbitt’s yard. It’s going to take a while to get ballistic results back, but when we do, I feel sure it is going to indicate the rifle was fired from somewhere else, meaning Gentry could not have been the shooter.”
Carmichael took another moment to skim the report. While he read, Jordan Mayes entered the office. He and Brewer chatted softly about the coroner’s finding.
Finally Carmichael looked up from the paper. “Apparently the security men were mistaken. They thought they saw someone on the property, but it wasn’t until they were out on the golf course that they actually came across the fleeing suspect. According to reports he was wearing a backpack. Perhaps he had time to break down his weapon. Remember, this is Violator. He could probably do that in two seconds.”
“I thought of that, but there is something else.”
Carmichael’s eyes flitted to Mayes, but then they rested again on Brewer. “Go on.”
“Saturday night in Washington Highlands, our target risks life and limb to obtain a small-caliber pistol, killing two people in the process.”
“So?”
“So does it make sense that Monday night he assassinates a man with a sniper rifle? Where did he get the gun? Did he have it Saturday?”
Carmichael shrugged. “Maybe you’re overthinking it. We suspect he also took money from the Aryan Brotherhood dealers. Maybe he didn’t need the weapon, but finding the little pistol was just a happy accident, so he grabbed it. He could have a weapons cache the size of a Walmart and we just don’t know about it.”
Brewer thought it over a moment. “True. But one other thing worries me.”
Now Carmichael sighed audibly. “Let’s hear it.”
“The reporter from the Post pointed out all the blood on the Beltway and asked me if there was some other crime scene. He thought the shooter had been injured somewhere after the Babbitt killing, considering the fact he couldn’t have possibly bled like that for an hour and a half.”
“And what do you think that means?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“You have a lot of questions, but no conclusions.”
“Agreed. I just feel like we are missing an important piece of what is going on here.”
Denny said, “I don’t mind you speculating, but your job is not to solve a murder, it is to prevent Gentry from threatening Agency personnel.”
“I understand that, sir. But if there is more than one attacker, or if I am looking for the wrong man…”
“You are not looking for the wrong man. Gentry has killed Agency assets many times before. He has killed people here in D.C. this week, and I’m quite certain he killed Babbitt. Gentry, an assassin, arrives, and two days later the man formerly in charge of hunting him is assassinated. That’s proof enough as far as I’m concerned. And there is no one else involved, because Gentry works alone. Trust me, I’ve been chairing the Violator Working Group for five years. You’ve been with us for less than three days.”
Chastened, but clearly unconvinced, Brewer said, “Yes, sir. Of course you’re right.”
As soon as she left the office, Carmichael looked up to Mayes. In an accusatory tone he said, “You brought her into this operation.”
Mayes said, “I did, and for good reason. Look, Denny, we hit a patch of terrible luck when Hightower and Gentry both went for the same target at the same moment. That complicates things in the short term, but it’s nothing to worry about long term. Brewer will do her job. She knows she’s not here to investigate a murder.”
Denny let it go, rubbing his tired eyes. “Gentry has acted the last three nights in a row. Let’s plan on being ready for his next move this evening.”
Mayes nodded. “I’ve doubled the men watching Hanley’s home. Two sniper teams now. Violator’s other known associates are fully covered. He might be good, but he’s not going to reach out to anyone here without us seeing him.”
Carmichael said, “I hope you’re right. What about this other problem?”
“Catherine King?”
“Yes. Should I meet with her?”
Mayes shook his head. “Put her off for a day.”
“What will waiting one day accomplish?”
“Events are moving fast. If we bag Violator today quietly we’ll tell her we thought there was a threat to the Agency in the city, so we naturally looked into the Babbitt killing. Turns out we found nothing.”
“And if we don’t get Gentry today?”
“Then we put a lure in King’s article. Feed her something that will get back to Gentry, and make him think she knows what this is all about.”
Carmichael screwed his face up. “And Gentry reads the Post?”
“It’s Catherine King, Denny. Her articles get picked up all over. TV media will run with a story like the one we’ll give her. Everyone will be talking about it. Trust me, if you tell it to King, it will go in Gentry’s ears.”
Carmichael thought it over, then he nodded. “I like it.”
Mayes cautioned, “But give it a day before we go that route. We’re not looking for publicity in this. That’s a last resort.”
“Agreed.”
34
Court slept in his closet until nearly noon, and then he woke quickly, snatched up his pistol, and looked out into his little room. It was still and quiet; dust hung in the small shaft of light coming through the high window.
He lowered his gun and groaned with the fresh onset of pain in his side. He touched the bandages on his rib cage and found them sticky with blood. He needed to change them, but before he did he left his closet bunker and sat on his little bed. He grabbed the television remote just as the noon news began, and he flipped around until he found a local station.
The first images on the screen were of a helicopter sweeping its searchlight over a residential street lined with large homes. Court immediately recognized the property of Leland Babbitt. It was surrounded by two dozen vehicles; Maryland State Police patrol cars, Bethesda Police, ambulances, and fire trucks.
The news anchor’s voiceover gave context to the images, telling the viewers some things Court already knew, and telling them other things that surprised him.
“Maryland State Police released a statement this morning saying Babbitt had been shot to death, and the killer was then chased on foot by private security nearly half a mile before briefly holding hostages at a McDonald’s on Wisconsin Avenue. He then managed to elude law enforcement and escape, and his whereabouts are currently unknown.”