Jonathan wanted something to make sense. “So, this guy you’re having an affair with. You thought he was going to kill you?”
“I didn’t know what to think. The subject matter was so startling. It was the last thing I expected to hear. At a moment like that, everything changes. Suddenly, you begin to question if what you’d always assumed to be black was in fact white. I didn’t know what to think. So, yes, in that moment, I was frightened. If not of Douglas, then of whoever he was talking with.”
“After you darted back to the other room,” Irene said, “did you peek out of the door to see who was leaving?”
“Ultimately, yes. But not at first. Not until I was certain that they would not see me at the door. By the time I looked, the man was nearly at the door. All I saw was the back of his head. He had gray hair, that’s all I can tell you. Same height as Douglas and maybe a little heavier, but not much.”
“He didn’t look familiar at all?”
“It was the back of his head. Backs of heads are backs of heads.”
“So then what?” Jonathan asked. “How do you go from hiding to stepping out to greet Douglas?”
“I took a shower,” she said. “When I came out of the shower, I told him that I had arrived early and that when I heard he was in the middle of a meeting, I decided to leave him alone.”
“How did he handle that?”
Yelena thought before answering. “He seemed… nervous. He didn’t ask me outright if I had overheard his conversation, but he went all around it. When I asked him who he was talking to, he said it was a work matter. Those were his words. A work matter.”
“How long ago was this?” Jonathan asked.
She pondered. “About six weeks. When I asked him who he was meeting with, he told me that it would be inappropriate to say. He implied that it was a national security matter. But that was bullshit, of course.” It came out bool sheet, causing Jonathan to smile. “We were meeting for a tryst. Who would invite official business for that?”
“Who would invite a terrorist?” Jonathan countered.
“He didn’t expect me for a half hour. This was a good off-the-record place to meet. In official offices, records are kept of who comes and who goes. Records are kept of phone calls. In hotels, especially in hotels like the Apex, people make a point of not noticing who comes and goes.”
“But how do you do that?” Venice asked. “Your face has been on every magazine cover in the world.”
Finally, a smile from the First Lady. “Thanks to the Marshals Service, I have become very accomplished with disguises over the years. You’d be surprised what a wig and different eyebrows will do. Throw in a pair of glasses and maybe some prosthetic teeth, and you can be a whole different person in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Let’s get back to the original track,” Jonathan said. “Let’s go back to the night before last at the Wild Times Bar. What was that about?”
“I have to go back even further,” Yelena said. “That night when I heard the conversation, I tried a couple more times to get Douglas to expand on what he was talking about, but the harder I pushed, the more uncomfortable he became. To the point of being angry. So I stopped pushing. But in what I heard, it sounded to me like Douglas was pointing to something, as if he had documents or even diagrams. Referring to something as he spoke. The next morning, I woke up early and I sneaked over to that other room.”
She looked up at Boxers. “Yes, we slept in the same bed, not in separate rooms.”
Big Guy showed no emotion at all.
“I looked all around, but I didn’t see anything. I tried to be quiet, but you have to make some noise just to sift through things. I found his briefcase, but it was locked. I was trying to get into it when I heard Douglas moving around. I quickly put everything down and went back out to the living room. I was back out there before Douglas came out of the room, but I think he suspected I was up to something. He asked me what I was doing and I told him that I was just restless.
“ ‘Why are you acting so strangely?’ he asked me. I told him that I don’t know what he is talking about. I made some excuse why I needed to be back at the White House, and then we get dressed and leave.
“Nothing was the same after that. We would meet, but he would always be nervous. In between time, I called old friends, Albert Banks and Steven Gutowski. We met for lunch at the White House and when I told them what I thought was going on, they said I should call the FBI.” She glanced at Irene.
“Did you?” Irene asked with a defensive edge to her voice.
“What would I say? Already, I am considered a liability to my husband. The press and the White House staff all think I am crazy. If I make an accusation like this, the best thing that would happen is that no one would listen. Worst thing… well, I don’t know. My friends tell me that I should tell my protection detail, but it’s the same problem there. No one would listen. I need proof.”
“Are you getting to the computer files soon?” Jonathan asked.
“Yes, exactly,” Yelena said. “Three nights ago, Douglas and I meet again. Different hotel, but we spend the night. I begin to think that maybe I am crazy. But that afternoon, as I walked into the hotel — remember I am in disguise — I saw a man I have not seen in many years. Dmitri Boykin was walking across the lobby from the elevator to the front door.”
“Let me guess,” Jonathan said. “Gray hair, same height as Douglas Winters and maybe a little heavier.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“I sense that we all should have gasped when you said that name,” Jonathan said. “But I don’t get it. Who is he?”
“Russian mafia,” Irene said. “Former GRU, bosom buddies to the old Soviet network. Deeply committed to anything that hurts the US. Great friend to Iran, great friend to Syria, and we suspect strong ties to Venezuela. Cuba goes without saying.”
Jonathan felt a chill. “You’re suggesting that this was the man Winters was meeting with?”
“Exactly,” Yelena said.
“It’d be a hell of a coincidence otherwise, wouldn’t it?” Boxers said.
Jonathan sat back in his chair. The potential enormity was just beginning to dawn on him.
Yelena continued, “So when I got up to the room that afternoon, something was very wrong with Douglas. He was pale. He looked shaken. I thought maybe he was having a heart attack. No, he said, he just had to think some things through. But his hands were shaking. I asked what I could do and he said nothing. He said that he was going to take a shower before dinner.”
Yelena stopped her narrative and looked to the ceiling, as if for support. “That’s when I went through his pockets and found the flash drive. I didn’t know if it was anything, but it was all I could find. It was in an inside, inside pocket of his suit coat, and I took it and put it in my purse. When he came out of the shower, I talked him into doing room service and eating in the hotel’s bathrobes. Just as a way to keep him from finding out what I’d done.
“The next morning, I left before he was awake. Back at the residence in the White House, I tried opening files, but I couldn’t. I just knew, though, that the evidence I needed was there. So I called Steve Gutowski and we agreed that we would meet at the Wild Times that night, where I would give the flash drive to him. He is a computer genius. He brought Albert Banks with him. And, of course, because of everything that was happening, I brought my Secret Service detail with me. But it was a very small detail.
“I gave the flash drive to Steve, who had brought a laptop with him, so he made a copy for Albert. Between the two of them, we were sure we would find out what was on the drives. When that was done, we partied for a while longer, and then my Secret Service detail insisted that it was time to leave.”
“What happened when the shooting started?” Jonathan asked.