While Justice Sleeps(102)
Jared asked, “Care to let us in on the revelation?”
Avery turned to him with a satisfied grin. “Your father loves history and his own name. As you pointed out with the game handle, he compares himself to William Howard Taft. And he sees himself as a child of justice—a scion of justice. Put that together with his comment about folly, and there’s only one place he could mean. The only square in Washington, DC, that is also named for a man named William. William Seward.” She swiveled the screen to show an online article. “Farragut, McPherson, Mount Vernon, Lafayette, and Seward. That’s where Ani is.”
“That’s a stretch, Avery,” Noah said doubtfully. “You got all that from his cryptic clue?”
“In the square. Known but not seen. Seward’s statue is not in Seward Square. They’ve never put one up. He’s also a ‘scion of justice’ because Seward and his wife were abolitionists who hid escaped slaves in their home. And he was an excellent lawyer who might have been president, but he lost to Abraham Lincoln.” Growing more certain, she added, “Ani Ramji is in hiding, but he had to get out of India. All his colleagues were being murdered. He and Justice Wynn found a way to bring him here and hide him. If he’s waiting for me to find him, he’s here in DC.”
Jared glanced at the others before he gently asked, “Are you sure?”
Avery gave a soft laugh, aware of the incredulity of her friends. “I have to be. We’re almost out of time.”
* * *
—
Vance replayed the surveillance of Avery’s apartment. The ringing of a telephone shrilled through at 10:43 p.m., but no sound other than the shower running and muffled conversation.
He stabbed the intercom. “Camille, where are the phone records I ordered?”
His assistant walked into the office at her usually efficient clip. “Took a minute to pull from the cell phone provider.” She laid the report on the desk and indicated a section she’d highlighted. “I’ve been trying to narrow down the callers who had masked numbers.”
“How many?”
“Two calls came in from untraceable cells. I have them working on it.”
“I want an answer in an hour,” he said without looking up. Camille took her cue and left him alone. Vance gritted his teeth and continued to study the logs.
Whoever was trying to reach Avery, he had to find them.
Now.
FORTY-TWO
In a coffee shop in Southeast DC, Dr. Ani Ramji sat in an Internet café off the main thoroughfare; college students and vagrants hunched over terminals, oblivious to those around them. He glanced over his shoulder as he typed, not sure of the face he sought. One last fail-safe. A file to be transmitted to his remaining ally, should any harm befall him.
Ani’s eyes fluttered in exhaustion, and he drifted into waking sleep, knowing what was to come. The dreams came every time he let his mind wander from a task, the images a nightmare of his own making.
Screams of piercing agony. Bodies writhing on a cold slate floor. Pale walls to reflect the light, to illuminate and sterilize. Weeping and bleeding and prayers for death, the embodiment of a modern Hieronymus Bosch painting. Destruction perfected.
He snapped alert, and a couple of deep breaths brought him back. The Internet café was number seven on his rotation. He never returned to the same café in a fourteen-day span, the average time the various owners took to erase their surveillance. But as a faithful man, he believed in the permanence of knowledge, though he might have to help it along. In America, he’d found a friend and ally and a safe haven, one whose devotion to revealing the truth rivaled his own. It was for him that he dared this last meeting.
At the appointed hour, he stood and headed across the road to the park. The layout of the park had been etched into his memory. For weeks, he’d hidden in the forgotten areas of Southeast DC, unseen by those who pursued him. The place known as Seward Square sat at the intersection of Pennsylvania Avenue and North Carolina Avenue in the Capitol Hill neighborhood. Justice Wynn had recommended the location, with its four miniature parks carved out by the intersecting streets.
Taking a seat on the bench nearest the center fountain, he set his satchel on the ground beside him. Grass would stain the leather, but it was of no matter. Although he had not dared to contact Avery again, he was certain she would figure out the location. He had come here each day, and he would for one more, but he had decided he would have to abandon Howard Wynn after that. The fear that rode him daily had come close to overtaking his guilt. If she did not arrive by tomorrow, he would vanish.
He’d found it impossible to relax in the city, even thousands of miles from his home. After they met, he would travel to Canada and then to Turkey and the Tigris region. Perhaps the land of his victims would offer no more protection from the men who hunted him, but he could imagine no true haven from his demons.
Staring up at the cloudless sky, he thought of his role in the master plan. So convoluted, but what choice did either of them have? His partner now lay dying and unaware of whether his sacrifice would mete out justice or leave them all victims of hubris and greed.
“Dr. Ramji?”
Slowly, Ani turned his head to face their anointed champion. Recognizing the voice and the photos from the papers, he said, “Ms. Keene. Were you followed?”