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  Webb steepled his fingers and glanced at Grange.

  ‘You are correct about that. He was a man of the highest integrity. Right to the end.’

  ‘You’re confirming that he is dead?’

  Webb closed his eyes slowly and nodded.

  ‘Thank you,’ Cahill said. ‘I know I can be a hard-ass, but I respect that you told us.’

  ‘Now, can we agree that you leave well enough alone and let us get on with our job?’

  Logan was about to say yes when Cahill cut across him.

  ‘I want to know what this is about. Was Tim still on the government payroll? Did you have him undercover in something?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that.’

  Cahill jabbed a finger at Grange.

  ‘Why is the head of your terrorist team here for this meeting? Did someone bring that plane down on purpose?’

  Webb sighed. ‘I really can’t say any more.’

  ‘Can’t? Or won’t?’

  ‘Take it any way you like,’ Grange said.

  Logan felt his shoulders sink. Jesus, why did it always have to become a dick-measuring contest with these guys? Cahill invariably won when they got slapped on the table.

  ‘Coop …’ Webb said softly.

  ‘If you won’t tell us, we’ll find someone interested enough to take this public,’ Cahill said.

  ‘You mean the press?’ Grange snorted.

  He was trying way too hard to be cool about this, Logan thought.

  ‘Sure,’ Cahill answered. ‘The press.’

  ‘We could have you arrested right now for making that threat. Both of you.’

  Grange and his adherence to the rules.

  Webb interjected. ‘We know your background, Mr Cahill, and it’s very impressive. There’s no need for you to demonstrate your allegiance to this country any more than you already have.’

  ‘So play straight with me. I know the rules of the game. What you tell me here does not go outside these four walls.’

  ‘What about Mrs Stark?’

  ‘I’ll tell her that Tim is dead. That the FBI confirmed it. Beyond that, I’d like to be able to tell her that he was still the man she loved right to the end. How we do that, I’m willing to try to agree with you. I have no desire to compromise an ongoing investigation.’

  ‘I appreciate what you say. But …’ Webb opened his hands, palms out. What can I do?

  ‘Freedom of information and all that,’ Logan said.

  ‘National security overrides any public interest,’ Grange said.

  ‘Interesting debate we’d have if we took it to the courts here. Quite big on free speech, I hear.’

  Grange dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

  Logan turned his attention to Webb.

  ‘Maybe there’s a middle ground that will allow us all to leave here content,’ he said.

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘I’m sure that you could draw up some official papers which we could sign. Undertakings of confidentiality in the interests of national security. Under penalty of … whatever, if we breach it.’

  ‘I could do that,’ Cahill added. ‘I’ve signed my fair share of gag papers working for the flag.’

  Webb turned to look at Grange. Looked at Logan.

  ‘The paper’s only worth the integrity of the man who signs it.’

  Logan looked at Cahill and back at Webb.

  ‘You have any doubts about this man’s patriotism or integrity? If so, it would be news to me.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I’m a lawyer.’

  ‘He wants to be convinced, Logan,’ Cahill said.

  That brought a smile from Webb. Grange was impassive.

  ‘This is really need to know, sir,’ Grange said. ‘I can’t agree to what he’s proposing.’

  ‘Well, it’s my call ultimately.’

  Grange looked like he’d been slapped.

  Webb stood.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘let me have a few minutes to consider this.’

  9

  After Webb and Grange had left the room Logan asked Cahill if he thought they would tell them what had been going on with Tim Stark.

  ‘Unlikely.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You heard them. All that national security stuff. Plus if this has anything to do with terrorists—’

  ‘Then why is DHS not involved?’

  ‘The Feds like to keep things tight. All law enforcement agencies do. Inter-agency cooperation is something that gets talked about more in the abstract than anything else.’

  Cahill got up from his seat and went to the window.

  ‘You weren’t serious about going to the press, were you?’ Logan asked.

  ‘No. And they knew it.’

  ‘So if they decide that they won’t tell us anything else, where do we go from here?’

  ‘I haven’t thought that far ahead.’

  Cahill turned back to Logan and leaned against the window sill. Logan shook his head.

  ‘I love it when a plan comes together.’

  Cahill laughed.

  They had been waiting for a half-hour – Cahill starting to get restless – when Webb came in on his own. Logan took this for a good sign.

  Webb made them wait, pouring a glass of water and flicking through a legal pad with handwritten notes before speaking.

  ‘Mr Cahill. I checked with your former boss in the service.’

  ‘Scott Boston?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Scott’s a good man.’

  ‘That he is. And he spoke highly of you.’

  Cahill nodded but didn’t say anything. Webb toyed with a pen on the table, as though he were still trying to decide how much he was going to tell them.

  ‘I’ll try to answer some of your questions. But I can’t reveal anything of operational sensitivity.’

  ‘Sounds fair enough,’ Logan said.

  Webb leaned forward and looked at Cahill.

  ‘I’m doing this out of respect and as a professional courtesy to someone who has a proud history of serving this country. Nothing more. I don’t respond well to threats.’

  Cahill met Webb’s gaze.

  ‘Do we understand each other?’

  ‘We do,’ Cahill answered.

  Webb appeared to relax, sat back in his seat.

  ‘The plane Tim Stark was on crashed due to an engine malfunction. That will be made public in the next day or two, which is why I can tell you.’

  ‘Did you think originally that it might have been brought down?’ Logan asked. ‘Is that why Agent Grange was involved?’

  Webb considered Logan for a moment in silence.

  ‘I can’t say much more about that right now, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Tell us this,’ Cahill said. ‘Was Tim using an alias? The reason I ask is that his name was not on the passenger list.’

  ‘He died on that flight. That’s your answer.’

  ‘He was working undercover?’

  Webb said nothing, inclined his chin and brought it back down. Logan wasn’t sure if it was a nod in confirmation and looked at Cahill.

  ‘Okay,’ Cahill said, apparently satisfied that it had been intended as an answer to his question.

  ‘Is that enough?’ Webb asked.

  ‘It’s enough for Tim’s wife.’

  ‘And for you?’

  ‘I always prefer to know more than less.’ Cahill smiled.

  It was Webb’s turn to stand and go to the window, looking down at the late afternoon traffic starting to build.

  ‘We carry out background checks on all gun purchases in the country,’ Webb said, still facing the window. ‘I guess you know that.’

  They took it for a rhetorical question and waited for Webb to continue.

  ‘Some time ago a man who had previously come to our attention due to some minor anti-government activities – letter writing, things like that – started to buy up legal weapons. A background check was done automatically each time and
because he had a clean record the purchases were approved.’

  ‘But multiple purchases raised a red flag somewhere, right?’ Cahill asked.

  Webb turned to face them again and nodded.

  ‘As you would expect it to,’ he said.

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘He stopped. I mean, after seven purchases in the space of six months he just stopped.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘He also sold his house. Didn’t buy another one that we’re aware of. No record of him renting either. At least, not under his real name.’

  ‘He was working?’

  ‘He quit. Didn’t take up another job.’

  ‘Gets you thinking what is he up to?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘We start working in the background to find out what he’s doing. He’s got our attention now. We start to look at some associates. Turns out a few of them have also given up steady, decent-paying jobs and don’t seem to have replaced them with anything.’

  ‘Associates?’ Logan asked.

  ‘All ex-military.’

  ‘They served together?’ Cahill asked.

  ‘Afghanistan.’ Webb nodded.

  A thought occurred to Logan.

  ‘These activities you spoke about,’ he said. ‘The stuff that initially brought him to your attention. Was it related to the conduct of the war over there?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘So,’ Cahill said. ‘You manufacture Tim Stark getting sacked. He has a legitimate anti-government gripe and can find a kindred spirit in this soldier. Ex-soldier.’

  Webb nodded.

  ‘Stark was brought in to infiltrate the group.’

  Another nod.

  Logan frowned. ‘I don’t get it,’ he said. ‘I mean, if Stark was fired to give him a reason to be pissed off at the Government so he could use his real name and background, why was he using an alias when he got on the flight?’

  ‘To avoid detection,’ Cahill said. ‘Am I right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Webb said. ‘The alias was to send us a message. To let us know that he had been compromised and was coming home. The op was being run out of our headquarters in Washington. That’s where Tim was going.’

  ‘So you knew that they were on to him,’ Logan said. ‘Which is why you thought the plane crash might have been deliberate. To kill Stark?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Turns out it was just his bad luck,’ Cahill said.

  Webb sat down again. ‘You can see why this is sensitive,’ he said. ‘These people are still out there. Still planning whatever it is that they are going to do.’

  ‘Except now you’re blind because your man on the inside is gone.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Cahill was quiet for a moment before he spoke again.

  ‘Do you need a replacement?’

  10

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ Logan said to Cahill, sitting in the back of a taxi heading for their hotel.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Your life isn’t exciting enough already?’

  ‘Look, he said he’d think about it but he wasn’t really serious.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I haven’t been in the States for a while and I’ve been out of any recognised agency for even longer. They don’t want someone like me. Someone they can’t control.’

  ‘So what was that all about? I mean, him saying he’d think about it.’

  ‘He was humouring me.’

  ‘But we’re done here, right?’

  ‘We’re booked in the hotel for three nights. Why don’t we make the most of it?’

  ‘You want to do something about this, don’t you? I can see it in your face. Even if Webb wasn’t serious about taking you on in some official capacity. You want to be involved.’

  Cahill shrugged.

  ‘Christ. You are unbelievable, Alex. You know that?’

  ‘Calm down. I mean, Bruce still has to get back to us on the “D. Hunter” thing that Melanie found, so why don’t we at least check on that while we’re here?’

  ‘And we can feed whatever we find out into Webb, right?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘That was the single most unconvincing thing you have ever said to me. And that’s saying a lot.’

  They got to the hotel after six. It was a modern four-star affair with a restaurant on the ground floor and a spacious reception and bar area on the next level. They checked in quickly and went to the room – a decent-sized space with two double beds.

  ‘Cosy,’ Cahill said when they walked in.

  Logan found a TV concealed behind doors in a unit opposite the beds and turned to a local news channel. They unpacked their gear in a few minutes, storing the bags in the unit beneath the TV.

  ‘You going to call Melanie Stark?’ Logan asked.

  Cahill looked at his watch. ‘Yeah, I guess I should.’

  ‘At least it’s good news.’

  Cahill stared at him.

  ‘I mean, sort of.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘I’ll go explore the hotel. Give you some time to make the call alone. Then we can grab some dinner.’

  Logan went down to the ground floor and got a coffee to go from an outlet there. After that, he went to the reception level and saw signs for a shopping mall which he followed to a set of double doors that led directly on to the first floor of the mall. He wasn’t sure if the mall or the hotel was there first.

  He wandered along looking at the shops and went down to the ground level where he found a rent-a-car desk. He figured they would be better off with a car than taking taxis or being on foot.

  He sat on a bench outside a fast-food outlet and felt the nausea that Cahill had warned him about. It was low level, but still unpleasant. He couldn’t stand sitting there with the smell wafting out of the place so he walked back up the stairs, following the signs for the hotel. He pulled out his phone and saw that he had a voicemail message.

  Ellie had left a short message telling him that she was fine and not to worry. That he could call her any time anyway. He smiled when he heard her voice.

  Back in the room, Cahill was sombre.

  ‘Tough call?’ Logan asked, sitting on his bed.

  Cahill nodded. ‘How did you get on?’ he asked.

  ‘Other than feeling sick …’

  ‘What did I tell you?’

  ‘… I found a car rental place. I figured we should get a car while we’re here.’

  ‘Good idea. You can do that tomorrow after breakfast.’

  ‘You mean we can do it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’ve got an errand to run.’

  ‘Alex …’

  ‘It’s nothing. Just personal.’

  Logan squinted at him, unsure if he was being lied to. He decided to leave it for now.

  ‘Oh, and Bruce sent me an e-mail.’

  ‘Anything interesting?’

  ‘Only four D. Hunters in the metro Denver area.’

  ‘Bruce get backgrounds on them?’

  ‘Of course. All pretty bland.’

  ‘We’re still going to give them to the FBI to check them out, though. Right?’

  ‘Not right now. I mean, we can do some preliminary digging around now that we’re here.’

  Logan didn’t have the energy to argue with him any more.

  ‘Whatever. Look, I’m going to watch some TV and then get to sleep.’

  Cahill looked at his watch.

  ‘It’s only gone seven. What about dinner?’

  ‘If I make it to nine I’ll be doing well enough. And I’m not in the mood to eat.’

  ‘Suit yourself. I’m going to go for a walk. I’ll grab a burger or something.’

  Logan couldn’t muster the enthusiasm to ask him if that was a casual walk or something else altogether.

  Cahill saw the look on his face.

  ‘Jesus, it’s just a walk.’
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  11

  Thursday

  Irvine logged on to her computer at Pitt Street and checked her e-mails. There was one from Armstrong timed at six-thirty the night before telling her about his visit to the agents who handled the lettings for the accountants. It was short and to the point:

  Dead end. Speak tomorrow.

  Irvine took her file of papers out and went through what they had so far. It might not lead her anywhere, but at least it would focus her mind on things. Maybe it would allow her to figure out where they went with the inquiry now. She jotted down some brief notes on a pad as she read. When she was done, she looked over the notes she had made:

  Fentanyl/Heroin – Russia?

  Overdoses – bad drugs

  Lewski body dump – dealer did it?

  Dealer and Lewski involved – sex

  Cops and Lewski?

  Accountants and Lewski?

  Suzie Murray – is she lying + does she know the dealer?

  She leaned back in her chair and thought about the last point. In the aftermath of the encounter with the man on the stairs she had kind of rushed through the interview with Murray. She looked in the file again for the notes she had made after the interview and re-read them.

  Murray had said that Lewski moved into the flat about a month ago and she was the one who knew the dealer – the man who had assaulted Irvine. According to Murray’s story, Lewski had brought him to the flat a couple of weeks later. But Murray never used his gear. Lewski traded sex for her stuff. The stuff that had probably killed her.

  A question nagged at Irvine’s mind – if she was right in thinking it was the dealer who had dumped Lewski’s body in the river, why had he gone back to see Murray the day after Lewski’s death? He would have known that the flat would be checked out by the police and that Murray would be questioned. So it was a risk for him to go there. A big risk.

  Irvine couldn’t think what the reason might be. She looked down at the notes again. The only thing she could think of was drugs. That the dealer had left some of the bad gear at the flat and went to get it. But she couldn’t convince herself that a small stash of the stuff – only enough for personal use – would be worth the risk to him. And he had not been carrying any large package when she had encountered him.

  She called Armstrong. It rang three times before he answered.