“What you have to tell us.”
“You want the cuffs?” the other man said, but the first shook his head.
“Tell you about what?”
The man flipped open a wallet to show an FBI badge.
“Let’s start with espionage.”
AMBUSH
THEY SEPARATED THEM, taking Liesl down the hall, her eyes startled and jumpy, like a deer’s, and leading Ben into what seemed to be a lounge for the border guards, a big coffee urn in the corner. He sat at a table across from yet another agent answering questions, not complaining or hesitating, because he saw that was expected, the air hostile, and hoping the questions would tell him what had happened. All he knew was that the letter he’d given Riordan had set off an alarm in the Bureau, still ringing. After a while the questions began to repeat themselves, as if asking them again would produce different answers. But the agent was no longer bristling, settling in for the long haul. He offered Ben a coffee.
“Is this where you tell me I have the right to call a lawyer?”
“You don’t have any rights.”
“How about a cigarette then? That allowed?”
The agent put an ashtray on the table.
“Now can I ask you a question?”
“No.”
“You seem to forget. I called you. You wouldn’t be here at all if I hadn’t given you the letter. Last time I heard, we were on the same side.”
“So what’s the question?”
“Who are they? The names.”
The agent said nothing.
“Not even a day and you’re here jumping on me. I didn’t know the Bureau could act that fast. So they must mean something to you. They pop up in the files, or did you just know?”
He shook his head. “I can’t— You don’t have clearance.”
“Dennis didn’t—”
“Dennis doesn’t have clearance, either. Not even before. Not now.”
“Just you. Even though I’ve already seen them.”
“So why ask? Who do you think they are?” the agent said, turning it around.
“Communists.”
“Hardly,” the agent said, unexpectedly amused. “Let’s hope not, anyway.”
“Then how is this espionage?”
The agent looked at him over the rim of his coffee cup. “You’re in the Army. Know what an order of battle is?”
“Organization. Commanders in the field.”
“This is a kind of order of battle, okay? It’s important, that’s all I’m going to say. We need to know where it came from.”
“So do I.”
The agent raised his eyebrows.
“I think somebody on it killed my brother. Who, by the way, in case nobody told you, used to work for you.”
“I know that,” he said tersely.
“Which makes it all the worse, is that it? You think he was a spy, your own guy?”
The agent put down the cup, not responding.
“Neither do I. So you want to know two things: where it came from and where it was going. It didn’t end with Danny. What was he going to do with it? Anyway, he’s dead. And it still came. So who was it for? The only person you know it wasn’t for is me or I wouldn’t have given it to you in the first place. You following? Where it comes from I don’t know—that’s for you to figure out. But whoever it was on this end maybe I can help you with.”
The agent stared at him. “Help us how?” he said finally.
“Well, let’s talk about that. But first, can I assume that I’m not under arrest and we can start this over? Or do you want to keep grilling me?”
“For two cents I’d—”
“Except you’re flying blind here. I’ve been listening. You came all this way. Let’s talk.”
“Talk,” the agent said, his voice low, dragged out of him.
“First, Liesl. You’re not going to charge her, either—she knows less than I do—and you’re probably scaring her to death.”
“She was his wife.”
“Was,” Ben said. Is.
“And Mexico?”
“We were giving a friend a lift. Nothing illegal.”
“Dennis says—”
“Dennis isn’t even allowed to know who we’re talking about. And if he’s already told you about Kaltenbach, you know about Mexico, so we’re wasting time.”
“You don’t make friends easy.”
“Well, we started off on the wrong foot—you throwing me against a car and accusing me of things. It put me off. Can we get Liesl now?” he said, then, seeing the agent hesitate, “I’m the only shot you’ve got.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Whoever wants the letter thinks I have it. He tried to kill me for it. I think he’ll try again.”