“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.”
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.
Chapter 32
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.”