«So, what else is new?» said Ryan casually.
«I’m leaving tonight. For Washington. Paul Bonner thinks I’m going to Connecticut; I’ll explain… Genessee Industries is progressively eliminating all the checks and balances. It’s time for Senator Armbruster.»
24
Brigadier General Lester Cooper walked up the flagstone path toward the front door of the suburban home. The coach lamp on the lawn was lighted; the metal plate beneath it, suspended by two small chains from a crossbar, read: «The Knapps; 37 Maple Lane.»
Senator Alan Knapp.
There’d be at least one other senator inside, too, thought Cooper as he walked up the steps. He switched the attaché case to his left hand and pushed the button.
Knapp opened the door, his irritation obvious. «For God’s sake, Cooper, it’s almost ten o’clock. We said nine!»
«I didn’t have anything until twenty minutes ago.» The General spoke curtly. He didn’t like Knapp; he simply had to tolerate him, not be polite. «I didn’t look upon this evening as a social call, Senator.»
Knapp feigned a smile; it was difficult for him. «Okay, General, call off the artillery. Come on in… Sorry, we’re a little upset.»
«With damned good reason,» added Cooper as he stepped inside.
Knapp preceded the General into the living room. It was an expensive room, thought Cooper as he saw the French provincial furniture, the soft white rugs, and the ornate objets d’art scattered about. Knapp came from money; old money.
Vermont’s Senator Norton looked out of place sitting in a delicate love seat. The craggy New Englander was not the sort of person for whom such pieces were designed. The other man, however—Cooper didn’t know him—seemed very much at ease on the couch. His clothes looked English; dark, thin pinstripes and cut close.
The White House’s Robert Webster was the fourth man.
«You know Norton and Webster, General. May I introduce Walter Madison… Madison, General Cooper.»
The men shook hands. Knapp indicated a chair for Cooper and said, «Mr. Madison is Trevayne’s attorney.»
«What?» The Brigadier looked questioningly at the Senator.
«It’s all right, Cooper.» Norton shifted in the stiffly upholstered love seat as he spoke. He didn’t feel the need to add anything further.
Webster, standing by the piano, highball in hand, was more understanding. «Mr. Madison is aware of our problems; he’s cooperating with us.»
The Brigadier unlocked his attaché case, opened it, and extracted several typewritten pages. Madison elegantly uncrossed and crossed his legs. He asked calmly, «How is Andrew? I haven’t heard from him in weeks.»
Cooper looked up from his papers. It was obvious that he thought Madison’s question was foolish. «He’s busy.»
«What have you learned?» Norton was impatient. He rose and walked to the couch—to the opposite end from Madison. Knapp kept his eyes on Cooper; he sat down in an armchair to the right of the General.
«Major Bonner spent the better part of the afternoon and evening trying to find the subcommittee’s airline reservations. There were none. Thinking they might have used false names, he ran tracers on all male passengers coming into and out of the Boise airport during the past several days. They all proved out. He went to private aircraft; same answer.» Cooper paused briefly; he wanted the pols to recognize the thoroughness of Defense personnel. «He then questioned several pilots and learned there was another airfield used exclusively for noncommercial aircraft; runway, medium-sized. Five thousand feet; sufficient for small jets. On the other side of Boise, eight to ten miles out of town. It’s called Ada County Airport.»
«General?» It was Knapp who was impatient now. The military was usually circumlocutory about a problem it hadn’t solved. «I’m sure Major Bonner is an efficient officer, but I wish you’d get to the point.»
«I’ll do that, Senator. But I’ll get there by giving you this information, because you should have it. We should have it. It bears considerably on the subcommittee’s actions.»
«I stand corrected. Go ahead, if you please.»
«Ada County has a lot of corporate traffic. The flight plans generally list only the pilot, the company, and, perhaps, the executive who ordered the aircraft. Rarely passengers. Bonner thought it might be a dead end. Trevayne knows a lot of people in companies that fly their own planes; his staff personnel could be unlisted passengers… Then he found it. Two Lear jets chartered in the name of Douglas Pace.»
Walter Madison abruptly uncrossed his legs and sat forward.
«Who the hell is Douglas Pace?» asked Norton.
Walter Madison answered. «He’s Trevayne’s brother-in-law.»
Robert Webster whistled softly by the piano. General Cooper turned to Knapp. «Trevayne not only avoided all the commercial airlines, he also used an out-of-the-way field and flight plans under another name.»
Knapp wasn’t convinced that Trevayne’s caution required Cooper’s elaborate explanation, but Knapp decided to let him enjoy the moment. «Commendable job… Where had they flown in from?»
Cooper looked down at the papers. «According to Flight Service Stations, the first Lear was traced back to San Francisco, where Air Traffic Control confirmed its destination as San Bernardino. No amended flight plan filed with ATC.»
«What?» Senator Norton was constantly annoyed by the Army’s use of short, staccato-sounding agencies and departments he’d never heard of or knew little about.
Webster, still by the piano, was once again understanding; this time on Norton’s behalf. «Flight plans can be amended within several minutes after a plane leaves the field, Senator. The information is filed with Traffic Control, not FSS. Flight Service rarely gets the information for hours, if at all. It’s one way to confuse tracers.»
Norton looked over his shoulder at Webster with suspicious respect. He didn’t know what Webster was talking about. Cooper continued.
«While the aircraft was in San Bernardino, Trevayne remained in San Francisco. Alan Martin did not.»
«He’s the comptroller from Pace-Trevayne in New Haven, isn’t he?» asked Knapp.
«Yes,» replied Cooper. «And San Bernardino’s twenty minutes from Pasadena. Genessee plants; there’ve been a lot of problems down there.»
Knapp looked at Norton. «Go on, General.»
«The Lear left Thursday morning, destination Boise, Idaho. It remained at the Ada County field for only an hour and then took off for Tacoma, Washington. Bonner confirms that at that point Alan Martin returned, and the young lawyer, Sam Vicarson, was removed from the scene.»
«Tacoma!» shouted Norton angrily. «What the hell is in Tacoma?»
Robert Webster drank his drink; he was getting drunk. He looked down at the disheveled New Englander. «Tacoma is in the state of Washington, Senator Norton. An hour’s drive up the Puget is a city called Seattle. Just outside that city is a complex of buildings with ten-foot-high fences all around. By coincidence it has something to do with Genessee Industries. Its name is Bellstar.»
«Oh, Jesus!» Norton did not look at the White House aide this time. He was staring at Knapp, who addressed General Cooper.
«What about the second Lear? Do you have anything on it?»
«Everything,» answered Cooper. «Tracing the FP’s back from Boise, the plane was flown from Houston International. Its point of origin was Dulles Airport. Our informants at the Potomac Towers tell us that an aeronautical engineer named Michael Ryan was absent from the offices. Bonner confirms that Ryan showed up in Boise.»
Alan Knapp spoke quietly. «Then Ryan was in Houston. We can presume he was at the Genessee laboratories. They have check-in ledgers. Let’s find out who he went to see.» He rose from his chair and started for an antique desk with a French telephone on its sculptured top. «I know who to call.»