“That’s the chance you’ll have to take.”
“You’re the one taking the chances,” Liesl said. “You don’t have to do this.”
“He’ll come anyway. He’s already tried once. Besides we have some names to protect,” Ben said, leading him.
“Protect.”
“You moved in hours. If you had files on these guys, criminal files, you’d be rounding them up. So they’re in the other files.”
“Which other files.”
“Security clearance is my guess. Of course, I’m not cleared to know.”
“Does it make any difference?”
“I’m putting myself in a gun sight for you.”
Henderson looked at him. “I’ll see what I can do. I’d need approval.”
“Protect yourself,” Liesl said. “Don’t act like this. You should have someone.”
“You wouldn’t even know he was there,” Henderson said. “We can do that.”
“He’d know. And then he’d know you were after him. He’d duck. We have to do it this way. I’ve got a guy looking into who hired Ray. It’s a back way in, but maybe we’ll get lucky. Otherwise—”
“What guy?”
“A reporter. Knows a lot of rats. Sorry I can’t say who—you’re not cleared.”
“Very funny.”
“How about the Bureau issuing me a gun?”
“A gun?” Liesl said, alarmed.
One of the other agents knocked and opened the door. “Phone,” he said to Henderson.
“In a minute.”
“It’s long distance. Berkeley.”
Henderson frowned, annoyed. “I have to take this.” He hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving them alone, the air suddenly thick with quiet.
“This is what you think, he was a traitor? It’s fantastische.”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you say that? I know.”
“Because you’re still in love with him.”
She jerked up her head, meeting his eyes for a minute, then looked away. “You take everything too seriously. I didn’t mean—”
“I didn’t see it. Maybe I wasn’t looking.”
“What difference does it make?”
“His widow, that’s one thing. His wife—”
She smiled grimly to herself, still staring at her lap. “Not seemly.” She was still for a minute, then got up, pacing to the other side of the table. “So now you want to get yourself killed to prove this? First an informer, now, what? From bad to worse. That’s what you want?”
“To get killed? No. I want to talk to him.”
“Talk to him.”
“I want to know what happened. What Danny did. Not guess. Know.”
“Why?”
He looked at her. “So I can let him go.”
She stopped, folding her arms across her chest, swaying slightly, holding herself in. “And me,” she said.
Before he could answer, Henderson was back, the same brisk hurrying.
“Any luck?” Ben said.
“With what?”
“The San Francisco postmark. Wasn’t that the call? Berkeley?”
Henderson shook his head. “Something else. We have other cases, believe it or not. Now, we were—”
“You were going to get me a gun.”
“We’re not a store. You’d have to be deputized.”
“Fine. It’s a family tradition, working for the Bureau. Maybe this time it’ll be for something worthwhile, not just chasing Communists.”
Henderson turned to him. “You’re a little mixed up on this,” he said.
“How?”
“I told you. Those names are like an order of battle. The only people interested in that now are the Communists. That’s who your brother was working for.”
RIORDAN SHORTSTOPPED him in the hall. “You don’t want to go in there. Not even near. Not the way he is today. He’d do it with his bare hands.”
Riordan was carrying an envelope, in a rush, his eyes darting toward the parking lot.
“What’s the problem?”
“Are you kidding? Warning Kaltenbach? C’mon, before he sees you.”
“Then how about you going in there, quiet, and getting my copy of the list and I’ll be gone.”
“Forget it. Get it from the Bureau. Ever see him crossed?” He paused. “Why’d you do it, anyway? I mean, who was he to you?”
“Nobody. Just a friend of the family.”
They both turned as the door opened, Minot coming out so fast he almost bumped into them.
“You’ve got a hell of a nerve,” he said to Ben. “What are you doing here? Dennis, I thought you had something to do.” He slammed the door behind him. “Let’s go. Or do you want me to have Frank throw you out?” He began hustling everybody down the hall.