“Perhaps Detective Corey and I should have informed you that no one who was on this property this weekend is above suspicion. And that includes you.”
At this point, Madox should have told us to forget dinner and asked us to leave his house. But he wasn’t doing that because he was no more through with us than we were with him.
In fact, this is the point where you’ve crossed the threshold, and now you begin the transition from the unknown suspect to the person you’re speaking to. Hopefully, the suspect has already said something incriminating, or will when you start to bully him. Lacking that, you need to rely on the existing evidence and good hunches. It all ends with me saying something like, “Mr. Madox, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Federal Agent Harry Muller. Please come with us.”
Then, you take the guy downtown and book him. Or, in this case, I’d have to take him to state police headquarters, which would make Major Schaeffer happy.
On that subject, I was starting to think that Schaeffer’s surveillance team hadn’t seen us going to the Custer Hill Club, or if they had, and reported it, Schaeffer was not doing anything about it. And why would he? More important, I pictured Tom Walsh having dinner or watching TV instead of reading Kate’s e-mail to him. Actually, I had the feeling that the cavalry would not be arriving soon, or ever. So, it was up to us to make the arrest.
This case, however, had some unique problems, like the suspect’s private army, and some familiar problems, like the suspect’s status as a rich and powerful man.
And, of course, aside from the homicide, there was the suspicion that the suspect was involved in a conspiracy to nuke the planet. And that was my more immediate concern, and my and Kate’s jurisdiction.
So, with that in mind, it was time to go nuclear, and I said to Bain Madox, “Speaking of houseguests, you had a guest who arrived Sunday, and has apparently not left yet. Will he be joining us for dinner?”
Madox stood suddenly, then walked to the bar. As he poured a short one, he remarked, “I’m not sure what-or who-you’re talking about.”
I didn’t like him being behind me, so I, too, stood, and motioned for Kate to stand. As I turned toward the bar, I said to Madox, “Dr. Mikhail Putyov. Nuclear physicist.”
“Oh. Michael. He’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“I have no idea. Why?”
“Well, if he’s not here,” I said, “then he seems to be missing.”
“Missing from where?”
“Home and office.” I informed him, “Putyov’s not supposed to leave home without telling the FBI where he’s going.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“I think it’s in his contract.” I asked, “Is he a friend of yours?”
Madox leaned back against the bar with his glass in his hand, and seemed to be in deep thought.
I asked, “Was that a tough question?”
He smiled, then said, “No. I’m considering my reply.” He looked at me, then at Kate. “Dr. Putyov and I have a professional relationship.”
It sort of surprised me that he’d say that, but I guess we all realized that it was time to be honest, open, and sensitive to one another’s needs and feelings. Then we could all hug and have a good cry together, before I arrested or shot him.
I inquired, “What kind of professional relationship?”
He waved his hand in dismissal. “Oh, John-can I call you John?”
“Sure, Bain.”
“Good. So, what kind of professional relationship? Is that the question? Okay, how can I describe this…?”
I suggested, “Start with nuclear weapons miniaturization.”
He looked at me, nodded, and said, “Well, that’s a good start.”
“Okay. Can I also say suitcase nukes?”
He smiled and nodded again.
Well, this was easier than I expected, which might not actually be a good sign, but I continued, “Two more houseguests-Paul Dunn, adviser to the president on matters of national security, and Edward Wolffer, deputy secretary of defense.”
“What about them?”
“They were here-correct?”
“They were.” He added, “You can see why I don’t want people snooping around.”
“You’re allowed to have famous and powerful friends over for the weekend, Bain.”
“Thank you. The point is, it’s no one’s business.”
“But in this case, it might be my business.”
“Actually, John, you may be right.”
“I am right. Also, James Hawkins, Air Force general and member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He was here, too. Right?”
“Right.”
“Who else?”
“Oh, about a dozen other men, none of them important to the business at hand. Except Scott Landsdale. He’s the CIA liaison to the White House.” He added, “That’s secret information, so it can’t leave this room.”
“Okay…” I didn’t have that name, but I’d be disappointed if there wasn’t a CIA guy involved in… whatever. I said, “Your secret’s safe with us, Bain.”
Madox explained to Kate and me, “Those four men make up my Executive Board.”
“What Executive Board?”
“Of this club.”
“Right. So, what did you guys talk about?” I asked.
“Project Green and Wild Fire.”
“Right. So, how’s that going?”
“Fine.” He looked at his watch, so I looked at mine. It was 7:33, and hopefully Walsh was getting around to reading his personal e-mail. Hopefully, too, the state troopers would be arriving soon. But I wasn’t counting on that.
Madox said, “Well, now I have some questions for you. Are you alone tonight?”
I did a good imitation of a laugh. “Sure.”
“Well,” he said, “it doesn’t matter at this point.”
I didn’t want to hear that.
He asked, “How did you figure this out?”
I was happy to reply, “Harry Muller. He wrote us a note on the lining of his pants pocket.”
“Oh… well, that was smart.”
I said to him, “Fuck you.”
He completely ignored that and asked me, “Have you ever heard of Wild Fire?” He gave me a hint. “Highly sensitive government protocol.”
“To be honest with you, Bain, I don’t read all my memos from Washington.” I glanced at Kate, who was standing with her back to the fireplace, her hand in her gun pocket, and asked her, “Kate? You ever hear of Wild Fire?”
“No.”
I turned back to Madox, shrugged, and said, “I guess we missed that memo. What did it say?”
He seemed impatient with me and responded, “It wouldn’t be in a memo, John. I think you have most of what you need, so don’t be intellectually lazy and expect me to put it all together for you.”
I said to Kate, “He’s calling us lazy. After all the work we’ve done.”
Madox admitted to both of us, “Actually, you seem to have solved the homicide case, and you’re closer to the other thing than I’d thought. But you need to put it together.”
“Okay.” I went to the French doors and opened them.
It was a nice night, and a bright half-moon was almost directly overhead, lighting up the clearing behind the lodge.
Off in the distance, I could see the metal roof of the generator building, and the three chimneys belching smoke into the air. Also, there were two all-terrain vehicles and a black Jeep prowling around back there, as though they were guarding the building.
I said to Madox, “I see the diesel engines are running.”
“That’s right. I just had them serviced.”
I turned from the double doors and walked back to where Madox was still leaning against the bar. “Six thousand kilowatts.”
“Right. Who told you that? Potsdam Diesel?”
I didn’t answer his question. “Where’s the ELF transmitter?”
He didn’t seem surprised and replied, “I’m not overly impressed that you figured out this was an ELF station. It’s all there for anyone to see-the generators, the cables, the location here in the Adirondacks-”