When we finally made it south of Georgetown the traffic opened up a little bit and she seemed to relax, or at least remember I was in the car with her. I saw her reach into the ashtray and pull out a white card. She put the dome light on and held the card on the top of the steering wheel so she could read it while she drove.
“You have a pen?”
“What?”
“A pen. I thought all reporters carried pens.”
“Yes. I have a pen.”
“Good. I’m going to read you your constitutional rights.”
“What rights? You’ve already violated most of them.”
She proceeded to read from the card and then asked if I understood them. I mumbled that I did and she handed me the card.
“Okay, good. I want you to take your pen and sign and date the back of that.”
I did as instructed and handed the card back. She blew on the ink until it dried and then put the card in her pocket.
“There,” she said. “Now we can talk. Unless you want to call your lawyer. How’d you get into the foundation?”
“I didn’t break in. That’s all I can say till I talk to a lawyer.”
“You saw the evidence. Are you going to say that’s not yours?”
“It can be explained. . . Look, all I’m saying is I did nothing illegal to get those copies. I can’t say anything more without revealing. . .”
I didn’t finish. I’d said enough.
“The old can’t-reveal-my-sources trick. Where were you all day today, Mr. McEvoy? I’ve been waiting since noon.”
“I was in Baltimore.”
“Doing what?”
“That’s my business. You have the originals on those protocols, you can figure it out.
“The McCafferty case. You know, interfering with a federal investigation can get you charged with additional crimes.”
I gave her my best fake laugh.
“Yeah, right,” I said sarcastically. “What federal investigation? You’d still be down there in your office counting suicides if I hadn’t talked to Ford yesterday. But that’s the bureau’s way, right? If it’s a good idea, oh that’s our idea. If it’s a good case, yeah, we made that case. Meantime, it’s hear no evil, see no evil and a lot of shit goes by unnoticed.”
“Jesus, who died and made you the expert?”
“My brother.”
She didn’t see that coming and it shut her down for a few minutes. It also seemed to have the effect of breaking through the shell she surrounded herself with.
“I’m sorry about that,” she finally said.
“So am I.”
All the anger about what had happened to Sean welled up inside of me but I swallowed it back. She was a stranger and I couldn’t share something so profoundly personal with her. I shoved it back and thought of something else to say.
“You know, you might’ve known him. You signed the VICAP survey and the profile he got from the bureau on his case.”
“Yes, I know. But we never spoke.”
“How about if you answer a question now?”
“Maybe. Go ahead.”
“How did you find me?”
I was wondering if Warren had somehow put her on to me. If I could determine that he had, then all bets were off and I wasn’t going to go to jail protecting the person who had set me up in the first place.
“That was the easy part,” she said. “I had your name and pedigree from Dr. Ford at the foundation. He called me after your little meeting yesterday and I came up this morning. I thought it might be wise to safeguard those files and sure enough I was right. Just a little late. You do quick work. Once I found the page from a reporter’s notebook, it was pretty easy to figure out you’d been there.”
“I didn’t break in there.”
“Well, everyone associated with the project denies talking to you. In fact, Dr. Ford specifically remembers telling you that you could not have access to the files until the bureau signed off on it. And funny thing, here you are with the files.”
“And how’d you know I was at the Hilton? Was that written on a piece of paper for you, too?”
“Bluffed your city editor like he was a copy boy. I told him I had important information for you and he told me where you were.”
I smiled but turned and looked out the window so she wouldn’t see it. She had just made a mistake that was as telling as if she had said outright that Warren had revealed where I was.
“They don’t call them copy boys anymore,” I said. “It’s politically incorrect.”
“Copy person?”
“Close enough.”
With a straight face I looked over at her for the first time while in the car. I felt myself making a comeback. The confidence she had so expertly stomped into the bedspread in the hotel room was getting a second life. Now I was playing her.
“I thought you people always worked in twos,” I said.
We were stopping at another red light. I could see the freeway entrance up ahead. I had to make my move.
“Usually,” she said. “But today was busy, a lot of people out, and actually, when I left Quantico, I thought I was just going up to the foundation to talk to Oline and Dr. Ford and to pull the records. I wasn’t counting on a custody arrest.”
Her show was falling apart quickly. I was seeing it now. No cuffs. No partner. Me in the front seat. And I knew that Greg Glenn didn’t know where I was staying in D.C. I hadn’t told him and I hadn’t made the reservation through the Rocky’s travel office because there hadn’t been time.
My computer satchel was on the seat between us. On top of it she had stacked the copies of the protocol files, the Poe book and my notebook. I reached over and pulled it all onto my lap.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m getting out of here.” I tossed the protocols onto her lap. “You can keep those. I’ve got all the information I need.”
I pulled the door handle and opened the door.
“Don’t you fucking move!”
I looked at her and smiled.
“Are you aware that your use of coarse language is a lame attempt to reestablish your superiority? Look, it was a nice play but you ran out of the right answers. I’ll just catch a cab back to the hotel. I’ve got a story to write.”
I got out of the car with the things and stepped onto the sidewalk. I looked around and saw a convenience store with a phone out front and started walking that way. Next I saw her car cut into the parking lot and park in my path. She jerked it to a stop and jumped out.
“You’re making a mistake,” she said, coming quickly toward me.
“What mistake? You made the mistake. What was that charade all about?”
She just looked at me. She was speechless.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what it was,” I said. “It was a scam.”
“Scam? Why would I scam you?”
“Information. You wanted to know what I had. Let me guess, once you had what you wanted, you were going to come in and say, ‘Oh gee, sorry, your source just copped. Never mind, you’re free to go and sorry about the little misunderstanding.’ Well, you better go back down to Quantico and practice your act.”