“No, wait,” Kinney replied. “I don’t think we have probable cause, but there’s another way.” He walked back to the real estate sign and called the realtor, then he came back. “Ms. Hooks is on her way over here. Mr. Warren, you can go back to your work. Again, I apologize for slowing you down.”
“Let’s take a look,” Kinney said, and led the way up the lawn toward the house. It was brick, modest in scale, in good repair. He stepped through some shrubs and looked through the window into the empty living room. “Kerry, get a criminalist out here now, and tell him to bring some help.”
Kerry got on the phone.
“And get my secretary to dig into those personnel files the CIA sent over and dig out Fay’s records. Ask the Agency for a photograph, if there isn’t one in his files.” Kinney circumnavigated the house, looking into every window. Empty rooms stared back at him. As he came back to the front of the house, a Cadillac pulled into the driveway, and a woman got out.
“Agent Kinney?” she asked.
“That’s right, Ms. Hooks,” he replied, shaking her hand. “This is Agent Kerry Smith.”
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“I’d like for my people to go into the house and collect some evidence.”
“Has a crime been committed here?” she asked, looking puzzled.
“I don’t know yet. That’s what I want to find out.”
“Don’t you need a search warrant for that?”
“I can get a search warrant, but it will take several hours, and another crime might be committed while I’m doing it. On the other hand, you have the authority to let us into the house.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Mr. Fay might sue me.”
“That’s very unlikely, Ms. Hooks. It would be a great help to us if you could let us in now. This is extremely important.”
She put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, God, it’s that sniper guy who’s killing all those people, isn’t it?”
“I can’t comment on our investigation, Ms. Hooks, and please don’t tell anyone that, particularly anyone from the media. It could greatly impede our investigation.”
The woman dug into her handbag and came up with a key. “Here,” she said, “go to it. I want you to get the bastard. I listened to Van Vandervelt every single day.”
“Thank you, Ms. Hooks. Again, please don’t mention this to anyone.”
“Is there anything else I can do to help?”
“Did you ever meet Mr. Fay?”
“Just once, when I came to look at the house.”
“Can you describe him for me?”
“Just average-looking, I guess. Gray hair, fairly slim, not as tall as you, maybe five ten or so?”
“Do you know where Mr. Fay is?”
“No, he said he was going to see the world. He had a big auction here, sold all his household goods, his car, and his RV. Said he was burning his bridges. His wife died a couple of years ago, I think.”
“What were your instructions if you found a buyer?”
“I have a power of attorney to accept a suitable offer and close the sale.”
“And what are you to do with the proceeds of the sale?”
“Well, that was kind of strange. I’m to run an ad in the International Herald Tribune, saying, T.F.- Sale complete, instructions, please.” And then I would get a phone call or a fax with instructions for wiring the money.“
“And you haven’t sold the house, yet?”
“I’ve had one lowball offer that I turned down, since it didn’t meet Mr. Fay’s minimum price.”
“Ms. Hooks, I’d like you to run the ad, please, and I’d like you to phone me the moment you get the wiring instructions.” He handed her a card.
“And what do I tell him when the money doesn’t arrive?”
“If we get that far, tell him the seller failed to close, and you’re back to square one. See if you can get him to tell you where he is. If he won’t, then tell him the power of attorney he signed-how long ago did he sign it?”
“A few weeks.”
“Tell him it expires in sixty days from signing by law, and you’ll have to send him a new one, if you’re going to continue to market the house. Get an address or a fax number for that purpose.”
“All right. I’ll go back to the office and place the ad.”
They shook hands, and she got into her car and left.
“That was very good,” Kerry said.
“Let’s hope it works. And when the team arrives, put their vehicle in the garage. Let’s keep the place looking as normal as possible. Go tell the lawn guy to do his job and keep his mouth shut.”
“Okay.” Kerry walked down the lawn toward the curb.
Kinney walked back to the front door and waited for his team. He was determined not to get too excited about this. But his heart wouldn’t stop beating faster.
39
KATHEREINE RULE LEE looked up to see her deputy director for operations standing in her doorway. “Good morning, Hugh,” she said. “Thanks for coming.” She waved him to the sofa and went to meet him there.
“What’s up, boss?” he asked. This was meant to be ironic; Hugh English had never gotten over the fact that an independent commission had recommended Kate over him for the director’s job.
“I had a conversation last night with President Majorov that I think you might like to know about.”
“Something new for the Majorov file? I’m always happy to have something new on him.”
“It’s not just about Majorov. It’s about Ed Rawls, too. You’ll need to add this to his file, as well.”
“Okay.”
“You may remember that Majorov was the KGB station head in Stockholm when Rawls was there, so he would have been running Rawls.”
“I remember, but that’s not necessarily true. He may have appointed somebody else to run Rawls.”
“He confirmed to me that he, personally, ran Rawls.”
English’s face became expressionless. “So he would have ordered the hit on Lewis and Barbara Moore.”
“That’s a reasonable conclusion, but Majorov denies it.”
“I’ll bet he does.”
“Given the kind of conversation we were having, which was well-oiled on his part, he had no real reason to deny it.”
“Rawls set up Lewis and Barbara,” English said. “It’s the only way it could have happened.”
“No, there was another way. Majorov says he had a bug in the Moores ’ apartment.”
“I don’t believe it,” English said. “Staff apartments are swept on a regular basis.”
“I want to know if this is true,” Kate said. “First, get in touch with our Stockholm station and find out if a bug was ever detected in that apartment. If one was never found, then it’s still there.”
“Our people would have found it.”
“You remember the brouhaha when we learned that the Soviets were bugging the new American embassy in Moscow, while it was being built?”
“Of course.”
“I think that shows us that the Soviets had some bugs that were very difficult, if not impossible, to detect.”
“I suppose so.”
“If there’s no record of a bug being found in the Moores ’ apartment, then I want the place taken apart, and I mean right down to ripping off the drywall and the plumbing. Move whoever is in the apartment now out and into a new place, and do this thing right.”
“I think this is a monumental waste of time, Kate.”
“If that’s so, it won’t be the first time.”
“I don’t really have the budget for that sort of tiling, and officially, those apartments belong to the State Department.”
“Charge it to a renovation of the apartment, which is what we’re going to have to do when the search is over. If you have any trouble with State, let me know, and I’ll deal with it. One more thing, Hugh. Majorov says that when they were confronted, the Moores drew weapons and started firing, and that it was self-defense on the part of his people. I want to know what weapons the Moores had drawn from the station’s arsenal and if they were ever recovered.”