“David,” he said, spinning around when he saw my reflection in the glass. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still at the Sears Tower?”
“I was there,” I said. “But everything’s squared away now, so I thought I’d come over here and tell you about it.”
“So what happened? You didn’t call. I was worried.”
“I had a couple of ups and downs, but nothing to lose sleep over.”
“What do you mean? Did you find anything?”
“I dug up a couple of things.”
“What things? Tell me.”
“Some people that shouldn’t have been there, for a start.”
“People? Who? How many? Where are they now?”
“Three of them. South Africans. They’re still there. And don’t fret. They won’t be leaving. Not under their own steam, anyway.”
“You killed them?”
“It seemed like the thing to do. Seeing as they were trying to flood the building’s ventilation system with McIntyre’s Spektra V.”
Fothergill sagged at the knees, half sitting down on the windowsill.
“They were? Why?”
“The usual. For money. They were mercenaries.”
“Who was paying them?”
“They didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know? Or wouldn’t say?”
“They didn’t know.”
“Maybe. But we can’t ask them, now, can we? I wish you’d learn to rein yourself in a little, sometimes, David.”
“Reining in wasn’t the problem. If they’d known, they’d have told me. Believe me. But we’ve prevented the immediate threat. That’s what counts. And the backroom boys can run down the whole network now, as quickly as they like.”
“I suppose. But what about the gas itself? Did you find it?”
“All three canisters. Unopened and intact.”
“Oh my goodness,” Fothergill said, getting back on his feet. “David, do you know what this means? It just occurred to me. We’re heroes. Superstars. We just saved countless lives. We stopped the next 9/11.”
“I guess we did,” I said.
“This is huge. Enormous. I’m thinking, medals. Maybe a trip to the palace. But we’re going to have to think very carefully about how we handle things. We want the kudos, but some parts of the story can never see the light of day.”
“Well, you worry about the milking the glory. I still have work to do.”
“We both do. But talking about the gas, where is it now?”
“Still at the Sears Tower.”
“What?”
“Don’t panic. It’s in a safe place.”
“You left it in a public building? Are you mad? What were you thinking?”
“Let me finish. I left it because I’ve got a lead on McIntyre.”
“You’re not serious? The gas, and Tony? In one night? Really?”
“Why not? I like to be thorough.”
“I was beginning to think we’d never get another sni?of him. What did you find? And is it solid, this time? I’d hate for him to give us the slip, again.”
“It’s beyond solid. I know exactly where he is. My information is accurate to within an inch.”
“Then why are we here? Come on. Let’s go. We need to grab him before he moves again. You know what he’s like. Always one step ahead.”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than grab him. Please. Have no doubt. Before nine o’clock tonight, he’ll no longer be a problem. To anyone. I guarantee it.”
“David, that’s excellent. But why nine o’clock? Can’t we move now? Holding back makes me nervous.”
“We’re not holding back. I just need a couple more pieces of background.”
“Why? Don’t you have enough already?”
“Think of it as setting a trap. The jaws are open. Now we need to oil the hinges. Make sure they’re good and ready. I want them to snap shut, all the way.”
“Well, OK, I suppose. We could do that. What do you need to know?”
“Come over here. Let’s sit.”
I took the easy chair on the far side of the co?ee table, away from the door. Fothergill didn’t move for a moment. Then he picked up his case and came over to sit next to me, on my right. That was another difference. At our first meeting, we’d been facing each other.
“What are you waiting for?” Fothergill said. “Ask away. Anything.”
“Let’s start with A,” I said. “Afghanistan. You told me McIntyre was stationed there.”
“He was. That’s right.”
“What exactly was his job?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t be pedantic. I don’t literally mean his job title. I want to know what he was doing that brought him into contact with illegal weapons.”
“The weapons weren’t illegal, actually. Not all of them. Most of them had been given to the Afghans by the Americans, in the first place. Or by us.”
“Back in the Soviet era, do you mean?”
“Yes.”
“And since then?”
“The game has changed. The people we gave them to have swapped sides. The old good guys are the new bad guys. They’re using the weapons against us. So we either need to confiscate them, which is hard. Or get them back another way.”
“Was Tony involved in getting them back?”
“Yes. It was a joint operation with the U.S. They put up the money. We did the legwork.”
“We were buying them?”
“Yes.”
“From the people we gave them to, who used to be our friends, but are now our enemies?”
“David, I hope you’re not expecting me to make this sound sane. Because you can cut this or slice this any way you like, and it’s still ten kinds of crazy. But you have to be practical. And the thing to remember is that this does work.”
“This is something working? McIntyre? The Myenese? The guys in the Sears Tower?”
“Well, it works to an extent. Until people start stealing the weapons and skimming the money, at least. The system struggles a little, then.”
“Was that McIntyre’s game? Stealing weapons and skimming money?”
“Yes. I believe so. And when he stumbled across the gas, he figured he’d hit the mother lode.”
“Wait. You said the weapons were Soviet era, handed out to the Taliban when we were all friends. Spektra gas isn’t that old.”
“No. It’s a couple of years, max.”
“So what was it doing there? How did McIntyre get his hands on it?”
“Who knows? This is Afghanistan we’re talking about. Nothing makes sense, there. Most likely it was part of a sample batch, sent over for covert evaluation. It doesn’t really matter. The point is, all that American cash was like a magnet. It brought all kinds of things out of the woodwork. A lot of it was junk, by all accounts. But if a case of Spektra crossed Tony’s path, he’d know enough to see the potential for extra profit. And extra risk.”
“Which is why he needed to cover his tracks a little more thoroughly.”
“Exactly. And why he tried to frame me.”
“You think he was selling to the Myenese?”
“I think that was his original idea, yes. I think he started with a deal to sell to those guys in their own backyard. Then he got a better o?er from someone else—the Sears Tower guys, I guess—so he did a runner over here. He could make more money. And lay the blame on me more e?ectively. Which he needed to do. ’Cause let’s face it, dead Americans make bigger headlines than dead Africans.”
“So he double-crossed the Myenese, and they chased him here to force him to make good on the deal?”
“Right.”
“What evidence have you got for any of that?”
Fothergill was silent for a moment.
“Richard?” I said. “What evidence?”
“Well, no actual evidence,” he said. “But that’s pretty much what he told me, when he was here. Before he tried to murder me.”
“When he spoke to you, how was his accent?”