“There are parts of it that are causing us some concern so, unfortunately, we have to keep pressing our investigation.”
“What parts?” Rickstein asked.
Kineer smiled. “I’m afraid I can’t go into that at this time. Confidentiality and all that. You understand, Mort.”
“Sure. Why don’t we get on with this. You ask your questions and Dr. Farrington will answer them unless I tell her not to or she doesn’t want to.”
“Fair enough,” Kineer said. He turned to Evans. “Keith knows more about the cases so he’ll be asking the questions. Keith?”
“Thank you for taking the time to talk to us. I know you’re really busy,” Evans said.
“Chuck is a dear friend. I can’t believe what’s happening to him.”
Evans nodded sympathetically. “Where did you two meet?”
“We were all in the same year at OSU.”
“Oregon State University?”
“Yes. And we were all athletes. He and Chris were on the basketball team, and I played volleyball.”
“I hear you were very good.”
“Yes, I was,” Claire answered without hesitation.
“Was Mr. Hawkins very good?”
“Not particularly. He wasn’t a starter like Chris. He had some good games but most of the time he rode the bench.”
“I understand you and Mr. Hawkins dated in college.”
“Yes.”
“Did you go out with the president at OSU?”
“We double-dated, Chuck and me and Chris with whoever he was dating.”
“So the president and Mr. Hawkins were close?”
“Yes.”
“Did the president have a steady girlfriend in college?”
A look of distaste changed the first lady’s features for a second and then it was gone.
Claire answered stiffly. “Chris was the big man on campus and found it easy to attract women.”
“When did you start going out with the president?” Evans asked.
“Isn’t this getting a bit far afield?” Rickstein asked. “Dr. Farrington has a busy schedule, and she’s been gracious enough to set aside this time for you, but we’ll be here forever if you go over information that’s readily available in every magazine and newspaper that’s been covering the campaign.”
“Good point,” Evans conceded. “Dr. Farrington, would you say that Mr. Hawkins is intensely loyal to you and the president?”
“We helped him through some very tough times after he got out of the military and he’s always been grateful.”
“So he would do anything for you and Mr. Farrington?”
“I can’t speak for Chuck.”
“He wouldn’t hesitate to help you if you were in trouble?”
“Again, I can’t speak for Mr. Hawkins.”
“Has he helped you or the president with personal problems?”
“What do you mean?”
“Mr. Hawkins has confessed to murdering Rhonda Pulaski and Tim Houston.”
The first lady stiffened. “What has that got to do with me?”
“The Pulaskis were paid to keep quiet about your husband’s sexual relationship with their teenage daughter…”
“My husband represented Miss Pulaski in a lawsuit, a successful lawsuit. She got greedy and tried to blackmail him with an outrageous allegation. No one was paid off.”
“The Pulaskis say they were paid to keep quiet.”
“Then they’re lying.”
“Agent Evans,” Rickstein interrupted, “Mr. Hawkins confessed to the murders. I don’t see what the first lady had to do with it.”
“Dr. Farrington, did you give your husband money to pay off the Pulaskis?” Evans asked.
“I’m not going to answer any more questions about those people.”
“I think we can move on, Keith,” Kineer said amiably.
“Did you notice anything unusual in Mr. Hawkins’s demeanor on the evening of the fund-raiser at the Theodore Roosevelt Hotel?”
“No, but I was preoccupied with my speech and I wasn’t feeling well. I had a bad bout of morning sickness.”
“So I understand. In fact, you’d reserved a suite at the hotel for just this contingency, hadn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“On the day of the fund-raiser.”
“Yes.”
“Two suites, actually? Adjoining suites?”
“That’s correct. We needed to make certain that no one was next door for security reasons.”
“I understand that Mr. Hawkins made the arrangements.”
“Yes.”
“The Secret Service told us that you stopped to use the ladies’ room on your way to your photo op because you weren’t feeling well.”
“That’s correct.”
“Did you happen to check your cell phone for messages when you were in the ladies’ room?”
The first lady hesitated and eyed Evans suspiciously before responding with a terse, “No.”
Evans pulled two black-and-white photographs out of his attaché case and held them up so Dr. Farrington and Mort Rickstein could see them. In one picture a person in jeans and wearing gloves and a hooded sweatshirt was going up a flight of stairs. In the other, the same person was going down.
“Do you have an idea who this person is?” the agent asked.
Dr. Farrington leaned forward and studied the photograph for a few seconds. Then she shook her head.
“I’m sorry but I don’t recognize this man.”
“We’re not one hundred percent certain it is a man,” Evans said. “It could be a tall woman.”
“What does this have to do with Mr. Hawkins?” Mort Rickstein asked.
“We’re not certain it has anything to do with him.”
“Then why are you showing these pictures to me?” Dr. Farrington asked.
“The pictures were recorded by a security camera in the stairwell of the Theodore Roosevelt Hotel shortly after ten on the evening of the fund-raiser you attended. There’s a door to the stairwell opposite the suite adjoining the one in which you were resting. Dale Perry drew away the Secret Service agent who was watching the stairwell exit on two occasions that evening. If someone wanted to sneak in or out of the hotel by using the stairwell they would have had an opportunity when the guard wasn’t watching the stairwell door.”
“Why would that matter to me? I was asleep from ten to shortly before one.”
“Did you ever go into the adjoining suite to use the phone?”
“No, why would I? There was a phone on the nightstand in the suite where I was taking my nap. I would have used that phone if I wanted to make a call.”
Rickstein looked suspicious. “What’s going on here?”
“Two calls were made from the suite adjoining the suite where Dr. Farrington was taking her nap. Mr. Hawkins made one of the calls around ten. We’re trying to figure out if he made both calls,” Keith said.
Rickstein frowned. “I thought this interview was going to be about Chuck Hawkins but I’m beginning to suspect that you have another agenda, Roy.”
“Certain facts have come to light that have led us to believe that Dr. Farrington may be involved in the Pulaski, Erickson, and Walsh cases.”
Rickstein looked astonished. “Involved how?”
“I’m afraid I can’t be more specific,” Kineer answered.
“Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to terminate this meeting.”
Evans had been watching Claire Farrington closely during this exchange. She had said nothing, but she had stared hard at Roy Kineer with a look that Evans interpreted as pure hate.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Farrington,” Justice Kineer said. “Thank you for taking time to meet with us.”
Farrington didn’t answer. A moment after the FBI agent and the judge walked out of the sitting room, the door opened and Mort Rickstein stepped out.
“Hold up, Roy,” he called out.
Kineer and Evans turned around.
“What’s going on?” Rickstein demanded when he caught up to them.
“Just what I said.”
“You don’t really suspect Claire of having some kind of direct involvement in these killings?”
“We have some evidence that points that way.”