Deadlock (FBI Thriller #24)(37)
Savich said, “When your partners tried to take Rebekah, they had no reason to think they would fail. Only luck put me there. But their failure to nab Rebekah has landed you squarely in their crosshairs. For your own survival, I strongly recommend you tell me who your partners are, now, before it’s too late.”
Zoltan started tapping her fingers on the tabletop again, tap, tap, tap. She looked both amused and disdainful. She gave him another splendid sneer. “You’re concerned for my survival, Agent Savich? I’m touched. For the last time, I am a medium—I have no partners, I have nothing to do with Rebekah’s attempted kidnapping.” She snapped her fingers in his face. “Nothing. I did want another opportunity to work with Rebekah and her grandfather, try to iron out their issues, but Rebekah didn’t want to continue. A pity, but it happens.”
“Issues? What issues did Rebekah have with her grandfather?”
“I believe her grandfather wanted to justify his actions to her. He wanted to convince her he’d done it for her. He wanted her respect.”
“That’s a tall order, isn’t it? Respect a man of substance, a member of Congress, who put it all aside to commit a crime? How were you going to convince her to respect him? Selling what he did to her would be quite a challenge. You must have given that some thought.”
“Disbelieve my abilities—many do—but I tell you, I’ve found the Departed want those still alive, those they loved, to understand why they did what they did. Good or bad, it seems to be very important to them.” She shrugged. “But I doubt he will come back to me again.” She gave him a cold smile, then yet another sneer at full bloom.
She rose slowly, her hands fisted on the table, and looked Savich in the eye. “I wish to leave now, Agent Savich. May I?”
Savich studied her. He found her self-control amazing. She didn’t fidget, didn’t say anything more. She simply stood patiently and waited. He really couldn’t guess what she was thinking.
“Do you know Mrs. Gemma Clarkson, John Clarkson’s widow?”
“No, I do not. I only know what Rebekah and her grandfather said about her, nothing more. May I leave now?”
“Did you know Rebekah and her grandmother weren’t on good terms? That they’ve never been close?”
“No, there is no way I could possibly know that unless Rebekah told me, and she didn’t.”
“How old are you, Zoltan?”
She cocked her head at him. “What sort of question is that? You want to find that out, Google me.”
“Whatever your age, Zoltan, you are too young to die.” He said nothing more and nodded to Ollie, who opened the interview room door. He and Ruth fell into step on each side of her. Savich stood in the open doorway and watched them walk with her to the elevator, stolid and silent.
Savich walked back to his office, sat down, thought a moment, and pulled out his cell phone.
22
A pleasant older woman answered Savich’s call to the CEO of Clarkson United Industries on the first ring. “Mrs. Clarkson’s office. How may I help you?”
“I’m Special Agent Dillon Savich, FBI, calling from Washington, D.C.” He paused a second to let this sink in. He knew it had when he heard the woman suck in her breath.
“The FBI? I don’t understand, sir, Agent. Mrs. Clarkson has never had any dealings with the FBI.”
“No, I imagine not. Please tell Mrs. Clarkson it concerns her granddaughter, Rebekah Manvers.” If nothing else, that should be enough to get Mrs. Clarkson on the line.
“Oh my, yes, certainly, Agent Savich. A moment, sir.”
Almost immediately Savich heard the clipped no-nonsense voice of the top dog. “The FBI? Agent Savich? This is Gemma Clarkson. I suppose this has something to do with Rebekah and her attempted kidnapping?”
It wasn’t concern he heard, it was a sheen of impatience, and wasn’t that curious? Rebekah had told him she and her grandmother weren’t close, but this?
“Mrs. Clarkson, as I told your assistant, I’m Agent Dillon Savich, FBI. Rebekah said you were the best person to speak to about her grandfather and that’s mainly why I’m calling. I believe the two are connected.”
There was a moment of silence, then again, that hint of impatience. “Why on earth would Rebekah send you to me? She and her grandfather were like two peas in a pod. Surely she knows everything you would need to know. But that begs the question, Agent Savich. Why do you want to know about my husband? He’s dead now, at last, buried a month ago. Actually, he was dead for all intents and purposes when he fell into a coma sixteen years ago. Putting him in a casket was only a formality.”
“Mrs. Clarkson, Rebekah was attacked last Thursday in Washington. If you didn’t see Congressman Manvers briefly speak about it on TV, please don’t be alarmed. She was uninjured, but we have reason to believe her attack involved your late husband, Congressman Clarkson.”
“What? How in the world? I don’t understand any of this. I mean, of course I knew about the supposed attempted kidnapping. I saw her husband on TV say the FBI believed kidnapping her for ransom was at the root of it and the FBI was dealing with the situation. Well, her husband is rich, and so is she, what with the trust her grandfather set up for her a long time ago. I would have thought Rebekah would have the maturity to call me herself, but she didn’t. Are you certain Congressman Manvers didn’t stage this attempted kidnapping? For the publicity? He’s up for re-election, and an attack on his young wife would certainly garner him sympathy. I don’t understand how you could believe the attempt to kidnap her has anything to do with her grandfather. He’s dead and buried.”