“I can tell you that several weeks ago she was in Paris.”
Kuchin sat forward. “What else?”
“There is nothing else. No hotel. No credit card purchases for food. She either uses cash only or eats like a bird out of trash cans. She didn’t stay long. She left Paris the next day and returned to the States. I have seen the flight reservation and accompanying documentation myself. And she appeared on the security camera at de Gaulle on that day.”
“So she returned to San Francisco?”
“No. Washington, D.C. I’ve checked the airlines, the trains, the buses, and the rental car companies outgoing from that city and found nothing. Now, she could have used fake documents under an assumed name, but she might still be there.”
“But again, no hotel?”
“No. Perhaps she has another friend who accommodates her there.”
“Perhaps,” said Kuchin thoughtfully.
“Relatively speaking Washington is not that big. I can send in some of my people, beat the bushes, see if she pops out.”
Kuchin was already shaking his head. “No. That won’t be necessary. I will take up the hunt from here.”
The other man rose. “I will continue to feed you any additional information that comes along. I have markers in place in the system. If she buys a plane ticket, rents a car, uses her credit or ATM card, or engages her GPS chip I will know about it, and then so will you.”
After the man left Kuchin sat in his chair thinking. He actually had several matters on his plate that demanded attention. He was used to this, though he was a man who liked focus and compartmentalization. Yet sometimes one did not get what one wished for.
Still, his focus had to be Katie James. She was the only link they had. He had to find the woman.
79
TWO DAYS had passed. Shaw had been over every inch of Harrowsfield, observing the personnel tracking down the next target, and having long, detailed conversations with Professor Mallory, Liza, Reggie, Whit, and Dominic. He’d even ventured to the underground firing range with Reggie. There he’d watched her nail the target over ninety percent of the time even with a wall of smoke between her and the silhouette at which she was firing.
“I’m impressed,” he said as they moved back to fresher air. “How do you do it?”
“I remember where the target is under the smoke.”
“Well, in real life targets almost never stay still.”
They passed the cemetery on their way back to the house. Shaw paused in front of Laura R. Campion’s grave.
“Related?” he said. Reggie had told him her last name.
“I doubt it.”
“You come here often?”
“More often than I probably should,” she admitted.
She sat down on the old bench. He stood next to her. “So you come and stare at a grave of someone you may or may not be related to and call it, what, mental health time?”
“Don’t be a git. Everyone has quirks.”
“Okay, what about your known family?”
“What about them?” she said a bit too defensively.
“Are they living?”
“No. How’re your kids doing? Fix that problem with your son back in the States, did you?”
“My first memories were of a fat old nun in an orphanage. And I never married. No kids.”
“The truth this time?”
“Yes.”
“But a grave outside of Frankfurt. Anna?”
Shaw inclined his head at the sunken trough of earth. “But I knew the woman in that grave.”
Reggie looked in that direction. “Like I said, quirks. But I would like to know more about her.”
“Who? The woman in my grave or yours?”
“Both.”
Shaw stared off, eyeing a bird riding a breeze across the sky. “So what happened to your family?”
“They died,” she said sharply. “They just died,” she added more quietly. She looked over at him. “People do, you know. Every second of every day.” Her expression changed. “So what have you learned about us so far?”
“That you’re lucky to be alive.”
Reggie frowned. “How do you mean?”
“You might be good in the field, though I’ve only witnessed the debacle in Gordes. But this place has no perimeter security, little internal safeguards, and most of the people I’ve met would never pass a basic security clearance check. Whit, for example, is a wreck just waiting for a train to come by. And your fearless leader Professor Mallory looks like a reincarnation of C. S. Lewis only with a homicidal edge to him.”
“Actually, I believe he’s partial to Tolkien.”
“Doesn’t really change the equation. You guys are skating on thin ice.”
Reggie stood. “Well, you know what? We’ve gotten by just fine. Until you showed up.”
“If I hadn’t shown up, you’d be dead,” he reminded her.
“Fine. You want me to get down on my knees and attest to your superiority? We don’t have big budgets and planes and all that crap, but we get the job done.”
“Most of the time you get the job done,” he corrected.
Now she looked away, her face reddening. When she stared back, Reggie said, “Any other insults you want to send my way while you’re in such rare form?”
“They’re not insults. They’re critiques. You asked me what I thought and I told you. If you didn’t want to know, then you shouldn’t have asked.”
“You really are something,” she said heatedly.
“Is there a problem I’m not seeing? Because your attitude is a little hostile.”
“No problems. Like you said before, it’s just a job. That’s all you’re here for. A bloody job. Right? ‘Temporary assignment,’ I believe were also your words, with emphasis on the temporary, I reckon.”
“And I also told you I don’t fall into bed with someone lightly.”
“Yeah, that is what you told me.”
“And I meant it.”
“Right. I’m sure you did.”
“I’m here to help you. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“I think you’re also here to nail Kuchin and make sure you don’t have to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life. Don’t pretend it’s all about altruism.”
“Frankly, I already have to look over my shoulder anyway. And he’s actually not the worst scum I’ve had to track down.”
“And have you always been successful?”
Shaw snatched a glance at the grave. “Not always, no.”
A minute of silence passed and Reggie’s expression finally softened. “Look, I guess I’m a bit out of line. I’m also confused, and to put it bluntly I’m a bit knock-kneed about this whole damn thing.” She looked around. “Harrowsfield and what we do here, it’s all I’ve really got, Shaw. Probably seems pretty pathetic to you, but that’s just the way it is with me. And if I lose this, then I’m not quite sure what’ll be left.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to make sure you don’t lose it.”
“I suppose I’ll find out soon enough, won’t I?”
“Actually, we both will.”
80
FEDIR KUCHIN stared out the window of his hotel room into the wash of streetlights. He was dissecting the city in his mind. Washington, D.C., was separated into four quadrants. The sector tourists were most familiar with was northwest D.C., where most of the major monuments and the White House were located. This area was relatively safe. Yet there were narrow but consistent pockets of violence throughout the rest of the city. He had learned that three percent of the zip codes here accounted for over seventy percent of the violent crime. Much of it was drug- and gang-related and kept the police chief deploying more and more resources in those areas.
Kuchin sat back down and studied his map of the city, breaking it down as he had in other battles. D.C. had a fairly large footprint, but was certainly not the most populous metropolis in the country. Still, nearly six hundred thousand people called it home and far more than that commuted into the city every day from the suburbs. He did not think Katie James would be staying in any of the high-crime sections, so that somewhat limited his search. In the business district were mostly hotels. To stay there she would need to use a credit card, so he could reasonably rule that out. Around the U.S. Capitol Building where the four quadrants converged were residential neighborhoods where she conceivably might be staying. There were also high-dollar areas in Georgetown to the west and up along Massachusetts Avenue, or Embassy Row as it was known, and on Connecticut Avenue and Sixteenth Street heading toward the Maryland state line. He had a finite amount of manpower with him and did not intend on deploying it inefficiently.