While Justice Sleeps(35)
Nodding, Dr. Toca reached out a hand to take her elbow. “I’ll take you to the security office myself and alert the U.S. Marshals. I’ve asked one of our officers to stay outside his door until the marshals set up their rotation. He won’t be alone.”
“I will wait with him. Someone must be in here with him at all times.”
Dr. Toca hesitated, then nodded again. “Dr. Knox will be in touch with you as soon as we have the full toxicology report. Take as much time as you like. We’ll make sure he’s kept safe.”
When the physicians exited the room, Avery reached for the bedside phone. After the first ring, Mary Gonzalez answered.
“It’s Avery. I need to speak with the Chief.”
A few seconds later, she was connected. “Avery, is everything okay?”
“No, ma’am. It’s not.” Avery paused, then said in a rush, “I went to see his nurse this afternoon. Someone shot Jamie Lewis, and my DNA is at the scene. I fled because I’m afraid that Justice Wynn might be in danger. Right now, I’m at the hospital, but I don’t know what to do next.”
“Where are you? Exactly.”
“I’m in Justice Wynn’s room.”
“I’ll alert the marshals to join you there immediately, and one of them will bring you to the Court.”
“I have my car.”
“Leave it. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Inside the bathroom, the man cursed silently and considered the syringe in his hand. He could kill Justice Wynn now and execute a hit on the girl, but with the marshals inbound, his likelihood of escape was slim. Not impossible, but an unnecessary risk.
He eased the door closed and climbed onto the toilet tank. Soundlessly, he opened the ceiling access and levered himself up through the opening. Using the crawl space above, he returned to Senator Stafford’s room.
Dressed again in his suit, he exited the room just as the U.S. marshals got off the elevator. He passed by them and headed to his car. Once he had a clear signal, a series of messages swarmed onto his screen, including several warning him of Avery’s discovery and approach. Local police investigating Nurse Lewis’s death would mean local press and a swarm of reporters misreading every scrap of evidence uncovered, not to mention overzealous cops looking to make a name.
He keyed in a terse response. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to go back to his boss empty-handed.
FOURTEEN
FBI Special Agent Robert Lee wore the plain dark gray suit and polished black shoes endemic to his kind. His mahogany cheeks tended toward jowls, saved only by the strong chin that added definition to an otherwise hangdog face.
His expressions matched his rather dour appearance as they ranged typically between mild irritation and patent disbelief. In his line of work, which required the taking of statements and the parsing of truth, these reactions were customary. The Office of Law Enforcement Coordination, or OLEC, to which he was loosely attached, often had this range of response not only to civilians but to the other law enforcement agencies with which they reluctantly coordinated. A product of the FBI’s Criminal Investigative Division himself, Agent Lee found the coordination a bit of a hair shirt for all involved—a sacrifice of expertise for the illusion of cooperation.
Time in the Bureau, especially at OLEC, had taught him to suspend his native predisposition for efficiency and honesty. He no longer expected either when he left FBI headquarters, and he had even lower expectations when he entered another government building. When Homeland Security was the other dancer in the pas de deux, he assumed everything told to him was a lie or a cover-up for a bigger lie. Still, he was unprepared for the unusual interview he was now conducting. Dinner plans with his wife would have to wait, but she’d never believe where his job had taken him today, assuming he could tell her.
Dusk hovered over the city as he sat in the well-appointed offices of the chief justice of the United States Supreme Court. It was his first time this deep inside the Court, and he had been granted entry only to interview the young woman whose grisly discovery had freed him from prepping a seminar on interagency data mining. Instead, a summons to the FBI via OLEC, necessitated by the unusual addition of Homeland Security, had allowed him to hand off the honors. En route to the Supreme Court, he had also quashed the aspirations of a homicide detective in the Tacoma Park PD by seizing jurisdiction over their case and the related files, such as they were.
Seated at an antique table that had the high gloss of disuse, he held his pen over a notepad with precious few details to show for an hour of interrogation, despite the presence of the Homeland Security liaison, Major William Vance, who stood impassively as Agent Lee repeated his questions.
“Let’s try it this way, Ms. Keene. Why were you at Mrs. Lewis’s apartment in the middle of the day?”
“To visit.”
“How’d you get inside?”
“Door was open.”
“I’m running out of patience, Ms. Keene. I know you picked the lock on her door.”
She repeated flatly, “The door was open.”
“Why did you go to her house?”
Avery dutifully responded, “I’ve explained this several times. Jamie Lewis was Justice Wynn’s nurse. The last person to see him. I went to visit to ask her some questions.”