“Is that today?”
Nash replied, “I thought it was.”
Ted and I were doing our little dance, each trying to figure out who knew what, and who was leading whom. I said, “Okay, tomorrow.”
“Good. Morning works best.”
“Fine.” I said to him, “You need to have that couple at the meeting.”
There was a two-second delay before he said, “I can have the gentleman there.”
“Where’s the lady?”
He replied, “I think I know where she is. So she may be at the meeting. The man will be there, and he’ll confirm what I told you.”
“The man could be CIA for all I know. Another bad actor.”
He replied, “If the lady is at the meeting, she can verify the identity of her lover. Correct?”
“How would I know if the lady is not another impostor?”
He let a few seconds go by, then said, “I think you’ll know if the lady is real or not.”
“How would I know?”
“Because… I think you’ve met her.”
“Met her? I don’t even know her name.”
He didn’t reply to that, but asked me, “Where are you now?”
“I’m home.” He knew I wasn’t because he probably had a snatch team in my apartment waiting for me.
He said, “I called your apartment a few times, and no one answered.”
“I’m not taking calls. Where areyou?”
“I’m at 290 Broadway. In my office.”
I asked him, “Did you get home okay from the beach? You shouldn’t drive with a head injury.”
He didn’t say, “Fuck you” or “Eat shit,” but I knew he was biting his lip and snapping pencils. Also, he wasn’t alone, which was why the conversation was a little stilted, and very cautious. He asked me, “How areyou feeling?”
“Great. But I need to get off this phone in case someone is trying to triangulate my signal.”
“Who would want to do that?”
“Terrorists. My mother. Ex-girlfriends. You never know.”
“Then call me back from your apartment phone.”
“It’s way across the room. Let’s set up a time and place.”
“Okay. Who willyou have at the meeting?” he asked.
“Me.”
“Anyone else?”
“I don’t need anyone else. But I want you there, obviously, and Liam Griffith, and this guy who starred in the videotape, and the lady, if you can find her. Also, I want you to call Jack Koenig, if you haven’t already, and suggest strongly that he be there. And tell him to bring Captain Stein. And see if Mr. Brown is available.”
“Who?”
“You know who. And have someone there from the attorney general’s office.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
Ted Nash made a little joke and said, “Let’s not make a Federal case out of this. This is just an informal, exploratory meeting to see how to proceed. But mostly to satisfy your curiosity and to assure you that there is nothing more to this than what I’ve already told you. This is a courtesy to you, John, not a big showdown.”
“Oh. Okay. I was getting myself worked up.”
“That’s been your problem.” He asked me, “Are you thinking about bringing Kate to the meeting?”
“No. She has nothing to do with this.”
“That’s not completely true, but if you want to keep her out of this going forward, then that’s understandable-but she may want to be there. Ask her when you pick her up at the airport.”
“Ted, is it possible that this conversation is being recorded?”
“It couldn’t be legally recorded without your knowledge or mine.”
“Oh, right. Why do I forget these things? It’s just that you sound so stilted-not like the old Teddy boy I know.”
He stayed quiet for a few seconds, then said, “You’re an asshole.”
“Thank God. I was worried about you. And you’re an asshole, too. Okay, asshole, what’s a good time for you tomorrow?”
“First thing. Let’s say eight, eight-thirty. We can meet here at 290 Broadway.”
“Yeah, sure. More people have gone into that place than have come out.”
“Don’t be melodramatic.” Nash suggested, “How about your ATTF office? Is that safe enough for you? Or is that part of your paranoia?”
I ignored him and thought about a meeting place. Now that Kate was going to be home, I knew she’d insist on being there, even though I didn’t want to drag her any further into this. But I could use some backup, and I’d feel better about bringing Jill to the meeting if Kate was coming along. I recalled my last night in New York before Kate and I parted, and I said to Nash, “Windows on the World. Power breakfast.”
Nash replied, “Isn’t that a little too public for what we’re discussing?”
“I said a public place, and you said this is just an informal, exploratory meeting-and a courtesy to me. What’s the problem?”
“I just told you. It’s too public.”
“You’re making me suspicious, Ted.”
“Paranoid is more like it.”
“Hey, didn’t I meet you alone on the beach at night? That’s not paranoid-that’s just stupid. But this time, I want to be smart.” I added, “It’s a great view.”
“I really want to do this in an office. Anybody’s office. Koenig. Stein. You pick.”
“Are you trying to keep me on the phone? See you tomorrow at eight-thirty. Windows on the World. You’re buying breakfast.” I hung up.Asshole.
It was a long afternoon. My wife was due to arrive at Kennedy with one, possibly two welcoming committees, and my star witness was out on the street.
Jill called me and said, “I spoke to Mark. He said the FBI had come to his office today inquiring about my whereabouts.”
“What time was this?”
“He didn’t say.”
I suspected that they’d actually come to his house yesterday, which prompted that strange phone call from him. Also, I wasn’t sure it was the FBI who came calling-more likely the CIA with FBI credentials.
Jill continued, “They wouldn’t tell him what it was about-only that I was a witness to something and that they needed to speak to me.”
“Did he ask you what it was that you witnessed?”
“He did. And I told him all about it. About Bud, and us on the beach, and the videotape.”
“How did he take that?”
“Not very well. But his five minutes were up, and I hung up on him.”
I said to her, “I want you to come back here, now. Shut off your cell phone.”
“All right. I’ll be about fifteen minutes.”
Things were moving a little ahead of my schedule, but it wasn’t such a bad thing that Ted Nash knew for certain that John Corey had found Jill Winslow, as long as he didn’t know where we were. Basically, Mr. Nash was having a very bad day. I couldn’t even imagine the phone calls between Nash and whoever it was who had decided five years ago to engage in a conspiracy and cover-up.
But Ted Nash thought he had a chance to turn this around-either at the airport by grabbing me and Kate, or tomorrow at the meeting.
Meanwhile, he was juking and jiving everyone involved with this, trying to do damage control, trying to find me, and going to the bathroom a lot. And when he found out that I had a copy of the videotape, he would wish he was dead again.
I checked my cell phone, and there was a message from the object of my ruminations, Mr. Nash. I called him back, and he said, “I spoke to a few people, and I just wanted to confirm our meeting tomorrow.”
He sounded a little more concerned than the last time I spoke to him. He’d obviously been conferencing with worried people. I said, “I’ll be there.”
He asked, “What… what will you want to discuss?”
“Whatever.”
“Let me ask you this-do you have any hard evidence to present that might cause this case to be re-examined?”
“Such as?”
“I’m askingyou.”
“Oh… well, I might have something. Why?”
“Will you bring that evidence tomorrow?”
“If you’d like.”
“That would be good.” He asked, “Do you have any witnesses who you would like to be present at that meeting?”
“I might.”
“Any witnesses you have would be welcome at that meeting.”