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“The Korean Armistice Agreement is the armistice which ended the Korean War . . . The armistice was signed on July 27, 1953, and was designed to ‘insure a complete cessation of hostilities and of all acts of armed force in Korea until a final peaceful settlement is achieved.’ No ‘final peaceful settlement’ has been achieved yet.”
John Fulghum drove straight through to his apartment. He fell asleep immediately and awakened to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He saw the call was from Silvia.
“Good morning, John. It’s Silvia. Do you want to hear the latest now or read it in the papers?”
“Hello Silvia, you know what a news grabber I am. What’s the scoop?”
“Your friend Pounce had moved right along his list to suspect the estate gardener and his wife because of their use of many poisons while taking care of the venerable house and grounds. The police search of the premises yielded a wide variety of toxins under the immediate, locked care of the gardener and his family. They, therefore, had the means of killing the Judge, but nothing in the deceased’s autopsy indicates that any of their cornucopia of poisons was used to commit the murder. The Judge’s lawyer attested before he died that, as with the butler, there should have been no great expectations based on the terms of the latest known will.”
“So no motive for their having killed the Judge was apparent. Why am I not surprised? I’ll bet the pair stood to benefit from the Judge living as long as possible.”
“According to Frost, if the lawyer hadn’t died suddenly, the complex trust arrangement might have had an interpreter. Pounce ordered copies of all pertinent trust documents to be provided immediately. He also summoned the banker who managed the trust funds. He learned from him that nearly all the funds had been exhausted or pledged against loans.”
“So you’re telling me Anderson’s legacy was a hollow inheritance?”
“Everything was in hock at least once over. If the Judge had an estimated wealth of nine hundred million dollars when he died, after paying off all his estate’s debts, he would have been lucky to bequest five million or so after estate taxes. That’s the extent of this grand old family’s assets.”
“If his heirs knew this, they’d not be able to pay off the debts taken on the understanding that when their boat came in, they would be rich as Croesus.”
“Does that give you a warm, fuzzy feeling, John?”
“Are you ready for company tonight with a gumshoe Romeo?”
“For Rudy Valentino, no. For you, certainly. In fact, I’ll put on something special.”
“For dinner?”
“That too. Is seven-thirty okay? I’ll be running a little late at the office to tie up some loose ends.”
“I’ll see you then. If something comes up in the meantime, I’ll call you on your cell. Please do the same for me.”
“If you’re late for my soufflé, I’ll eat it all myself and to hell with you.”
The detective hesitated while he assessed what she was really saying. “I’ll be there, on the dot.”
Fulghum was anxious to discover the information about Figlear’s Agency sayak connection, but he had been neglectful of Silvia. Tonight was the night when he’d make up for all the lost evenings when one or the other of them had been too tired to contemplate being together properly.
Fulghum actually brought cut flowers to her door. She embraced him and rushed the flowers to her sink where she expertly trimmed them and arranged them in a vase for the table’s centerpiece.
“It’s been much too long, John.”
“I agree. Think of how difficult it would be for us to live together. You’re always on call at the Globe. I’m always being pestered by my clients.”
As if on cue, Fulghum’s phone rang. He saw the caller was not identified. He let his voicemail record a message.
“Something certainly smells good tonight.”
“In addition to the soufflé, I made crab cakes with coleslaw especially for you.”
“My favorite. How do I rate that?”
“It’s like the grace of God, no one deserves it. It just happens. Will you please set the table?”
“Shall I set for two or more?”
“Silly, the plates are in the cabinet. I’ve chilled some Chablis. Use your flowers as the centerpiece. Light candles if you like. Consider this as a romantic evening. Hurry! The soufflé will be ready in one minute, thirty seconds. The clock is ticking, or it would be if it weren’t digital.”
“Nothing could be better. You don’t know it, but last night I motored around Onota Lake all evening.”
“Hmm. Pittsfield. It’s a long drive out and back. You must be exhausted.”
“I caught a few winks. Have you been busy?” He finished setting the table while he spoke.
“Non-stop. Oh, yes, the Anderson case seems to have a few new wrinkles.” She paused to gauge his interest, waiting the final seconds for the soufflé.
“Do you have any Jack Daniels?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, I just stocked away four pristine bottles of Number 7 for a special guest. Since you’re here, we might as well enjoy it. Make mine two inches. You can pour yourself as many as you like. Quick! The soufflé is ready. I’m taking it out of the oven now. Let’s sit right down.”
They sat down, and she spooned the soufflé onto two plates. While they ate, Fulghum was effusive in his praise of the chef.
“This soufflé is outstanding. One day I’m going to recommend you becoming a Tennessee Squire.”
“What do I get for that? Mmm. The soufflé is good, if I do say so myself. I never make it unless I have a guest. I’m glad I’m not out of practice.”
“As a Squire, you’ll get invitations to special events in Tennessee. Notifications of new liquid concoctions, that kind of thing.”
“I like the fact a Squire comes visiting once in a blue moon to have dinner.”
“Do you know what a blue moon is, Silvia?”
“It’s the second full moon in the space of a month.”
“That’s correct. Now for double jeopardy, do you know what a gibbous moon is?”
“When I was little, I thought the word was ‘gibbon.’ I couldn’t figure what a monkey had to do with the moon. Gibbous is a moon between half and full. It’s a half moon with a bulge, like it’s pregnant.”
“The lucky lady is a winner. Your message indicated you now have the name and contact data for the sayak person at the CIA.”
“Is that my double jeopardy?”
“It depends on whether the data pans out.”
“First, tell me what you can about the Anderson case.”
“Patience. Our places are set. We’ve devoured the soufflé and are calmly awaiting the crab cakes. I now need two tumblers and ice for the JD.”
She filled the tumblers with ice and gave them to him with a cheek extended for a kiss. With a look of bemusement, Fulghum set the tumblers down and pulled her close for a proper kiss on the lips. Silvia melted in his arms and held his attention for a bit longer.
“Now I feel much better,” she said when her head cleared. She turned away so he would not see her tears well up.
“Silvia, what would I do without you?”
“We haven’t yet figured out what you’re going to do with me.” She looked over her shoulder with a suggestive smile as she put the crab cakes in the hot oil.
“I do like your crab cakes.”
“I like cooking them for you. Like I said, if I’m only cooking for myself, I get bored. Your contact is Rex Mason. His number is right here in Massachusetts, 978-603-3330. Are all CIA phone numbers divisible by nine? Never mind. Darcy told me I owe her one for the information. She also said to say hello to you. The way she looked at me, she seemed like a co-conspirator. John, you haven’t been sleeping with the help, have you?”
“With prim Miss Radcliffe? You must be joking. I like amplitude as well as pulchritude. Something like a romp in the woods?”
“I don’t know whether to believe you, but I like the sound of what you’re saying. I don’t know whether to turn off the burner or wait until after we eat dinner to turn up the heat.”
“Let’s have things both ways, shall we?” He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her sigh and press back against him.
“Burning the candle at both ends always gets us into trouble.”
“Do you object?”
“As long as the flames continue, I’m satisfied.”
“As long as I can satisfy you, I’m happy.”
“After dinner, I’m going to hold you to your word. When was the last time we took the time, John?”
“Far too long ago. I’ll pour the wine. Those crab cakes look just about done.”
They ate her crab cakes with two different sauces, white and red, and drank the Chablis until the bottle was empty. Afterward, they started on JD as Silvia served a raspberry tart she had baked. She put a dollop of fresh whipped cream on each portion.
“The Anderson case is getting more complex by the day.” Silvia drank a sip of her whiskey and raised her fork to attack her tart.
Fulghum hesitated with his fork in mid-air. “Why do you say so?”
“The police apprehended the Korean executive assistant when she got off her plane at Logan on her return from Korea. She’s been driven to the Anderson estate for questioning. The latest I heard from Frost was that she is now the number one suspect in the murder investigation. She’s got a crazy story about her being a legit daughter of the deceased. She says the Judge left his entire fortune to her. More than that, she says she’s got proof certain. Imagine!”
“How much longer has Pounce got on the case?”
“That’s the funny thing. All the nonsense about having two days to seal things up went out the window when the girl reappeared. Now the brass wants her declared the murderess as soon as possible. Your friend Pounce is likely to get another medal. I’ll bet he’ll be chief one day if he plays his cards right. John, are you all right?” Fulghum seemed stunned by the news.
“Oh, yes. I’m fine. I was just musing. As soon as you’ve finished your tart, perhaps you can join me in your bedroom. I think a visit to paradise may be right around the corner.”
“Promise?”
“I solemnly swear.”
“Hmmm – as it happens I’m finished now.”
“Well, then. Sounds like a good time to journey to the bedroom.”
He rose and lifted her bodily from her chair. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. After carrying her to the bed, he gradually took off her clothes. Silvia allowed him to take his time and watched him enjoy her curves. Slowly, John disrobed and slid into bed alongside her. She took a moment to breathe deeply and relax as he kissed her gently. Their desire grew passionately when she kissed him back.
Fulghum knew Silvia as he knew no other woman. She understood he would guide her where she needed to go. All night long, sharing their bodies and desires, he set her sights on paradise. When she arrived, he understood he had only a small amount to do with it. She achieved her glory all by herself. When they parted, her hand reached out to stroke his chest. It did not really matter it was John Fulghum’s chest she was feeling. He was a man. She had been satisfied. It was enough.
The next morning before Silvia awakened, John had risen, showered and departed. He left a note under the flower arrangement on the table. “A night never to be forgotten! Let’s do it again soon. You are one of a kind. Thank you. Love, John.”
Fulghum had left early because he needed to call the number Silvia had given him. When he did that, the male party on the other end told him to meet him at the restaurant where Orson Wells had eaten his three dozen oysters, washed down with bourbon. Fulghum had just enough time to navigate the morning traffic and arrive in time to order his first dozen oysters. His contact moved up right beside him and ordered a dozen oysters for himself.
“Rex Mason. You asked to see me?”
“Yes. I need to talk about an ancient Korean tradition that continues today.”
“I think I know what you mean. I take it you’re not cleared and adjudicated to know such things.”
“That may be true, but I have records that might interest you and your people.”
“Records, perhaps, of certain wet operations?”
“Yes, in Hangul, encoded. The records go back a half century in an unbroken line.”
“I’m sure you know how dangerous it is for you to have those records.”
“I do. I want to get rid of them as soon as possible. But I also want to make sure they get into the right hands. I’d be upset if I should discover they were misused. I also want information for conveying those documents.”
“We’ll be willing to pay you a lot of money instead.”
“What do you consider a lot of money?”
“We’ll pay one hundred thousand US dollars for each notebook into an offshore account you would control exclusively.”
“I don’t want your money. I’m trying to save a life. I need information.”
“That would be a problem.” The young man seemed uneasy now. He was certain the promise of money would get his masters’ intended results. Now that Fulghum had refused the offer of money, he was unsure what to do next. He had not received instructions for exchanging information for the documents.
“Let me ask a leading question. May I?” Fulghum asked.
“I guess so.”
“Who in your organization is qualified to trade my documents for information?”
“You don’t have the clearance or the need to know. I’d say only the Director could authorize the trade.”
“So go back to your minders and get word to the Director that I have the documents. If there’s no trade, I’ll use the documents however I need to get what I want.”
“What do you want?”
“I want three things. First, I want Kim Su Baek freed from any retribution or prosecution. Second, I want to know the name and contact information of the current lead for the program to keep an eye on North Korean agents in the United States and interdict their operations. Third, I want a list of all victims terminated by the Korean assassination team that were not national security risks at least back to the end of the Korean War.”
“You don’t want much, do you?” The young man remarked sarcastically as he ate another of his oysters.
Fulghum got a fixed, serious look. “Look, Rex, or whatever your real name is, my deal is simple. I want all three things, or there is no deal. If you intend to answer by threatening me or intimidating my friends or me, I’ll make a big stink. People will get hurt. Do you understand me?”
“I understand you perfectly.” The man’s hand shook as he raised another morsel on his oyster fork.
“Good. Now let’s talk about the unoffending topic of sayak.” Fulghum returned to his oysters. He drank bourbon after every bite just as Orson Wells had.
“Sayak was the ritual poison to eliminate members of the Korean royal family in bygone days when Korea was ruled by a king.”
“And one poison used until very recently for assassinations by Korean agents against targets here in America.”
The young man twisted in his seat but nodded uncomfortably.
“As a good faith measure, I expect your bosses to be in touch with the Chief of Boston Police to arrange the freedom of Kim Su Baek within twenty-four hours. You know my cell phone number. You or your people will call with the simple message that you will give me the guarantees I need. I’ll set the terms for the transfer of the documents for the information at that time.”
The young man nodded.
Fulghum raised his hand and ordered another dozen oysters on the half shell. His companion decided against having a second dozen oysters. He finished his last oyster and his drink. He dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the table. Then he rose and left the restaurant quickly without shaking Fulghum’s hand or looking back. The waiter cleared his place and brought Fulghum a second round of shellfish and more bourbon.
The detective took his time and savored every bite and sip. He wondered how Orson Welles had managed to down not two, but three servings of raw oysters at a sitting. Then he thought of the man’s enormous girth. He shuddered when his cell phone rang.
“Fulghum. It’s your nickel.”
“John, it’s me, Sue.”
The detective dropped his head and looked around while he switched his phone from one hand to the other. He could not believe the Agency could have moved this fast.
“Sue, how are you? And where are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m just leaving the Pittsfield estate. I’ve just been informed I won’t have to stay here at the estate after all. There’ll be no intensive interrogation. I’m free to do as I please. I thought maybe we could meet and talk. I’ve got lots to tell you and something to give you as well.”
“Do you remember the room where we first met?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Meet me in the rear of the establishment below that location tomorrow at noon. I don’t want to talk more now. Can you meet me there, then?”
“Yes.”
“Watch your back. If you encounter any difficulties, call this number. If I don’t answer, leave a brief message stating whether you are okay or not, where you are and how long you will be staying there. Will you do that?”
“Yes. I think I’m being followed now.”
“You must count on being followed from now on. The question is whether you’re being threatened by the people who are following you.”
“How will I know I’m being threatened?”
“Probably you’ll only know when it’s too late to do anything about it.”
She laughed uncomfortably. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Fulghum finished his meal, paid the bill and left the restaurant. He drove first to his office to pick up the papers Silvia had brought then he proceeded to his apartment. He laid the papers on his kitchen table and fetched a crookneck lamp by which to read them. For the next five hours, he pored over every document until he had memorized all the salient records.
Fulghum discovered the reporters’ notes were a bonanza. He learned through them that the Judge while in uniform had fought his way back to the American lines not alone, but with a prisoner not mentioned in any of the public records. His prisoner was a Soviet advisor to the North Korean regime. The military personnel whom Currier and Ives had interviewed about the true facts about Anderson’s escape from the North to the South gave them little information because of classification issues. The spokesmen did not deny certain facts, including the fact that Anderson’s target on his airborne mission was to bomb a well-protected biological warfare center. After accomplishing the bombing mission, his plane was shot down. The Korean agents who protected him during his escape provided information about the Russian advisor’s critical involvement in the war and his current location. Anderson worked with those agents to apprehend, sedate and convey the Russian officer first to American forces and then to the intelligence chief at the United Nations Forces headquarters.
While Anderson’s classified mission earned him the coveted Congressional Medal of Honor, his private initiative to capture the Soviet operative was considered an embarrassment. Anderson threatened to make the true facts known until a trade was arranged, exchanging the Soviet agent for an unspecified number of American POWs held by the DPRK forces and the Chinese Army. Two reporters interviewed Anderson, but it was unacceptable to take any notes. In the Arirang Papers, Fulghum discovered Anderson was furious about the release of the Soviet operative. In this matter, he was in complete agreement with the South Korean agents. That plus his regard for his Korean nurses in the hospital forged a bond between him and South Korea, which endured. Currier and Ives wrote they were convinced Anderson was an active agent of South Korea at the time.
Fulghum shook his head when he read this. Cynically, he wondered how Anderson managed to remain alive after surviving an impossible mission and accomplishing a separate operation that caused a widespread cover-up, which must have gone right to the top. The explanation may have been as simple as the reporters speculated—a proper Bostonian could not be summarily executed for assisting a foreign power allied with the United States. The detective figured the reporters’ knowledge alone allowed the Bostonian to live. If Anderson had met with a fatal accident on a subsequent mission, Currier and Ives might have written something about the interview the authorities could not silence. Fulghum scribbled down a couple of names of Koreans the reporters mentioned. They were involved with Anderson while he was in the hospital. Afterward, he concluded he had better destroy the documents immediately.
Fulghum picked up only the documents Silvia wanted burned after reading. It was late, but he immediately drove to a farm in Milford, New Hampshire, where he did his target practice. There with a pen light he found an empty oil barrel in a field and set a fire in the barrel. Page by page he burned the papers he had promised to destroy, taking care not to have the fire spread beyond the barrel.
He did not burn more than one page at a time. Each page burned slowly, the fire eating the paper from the outer edge toward his thumb. The papers glowed in the night like red worms of fire. When he had burned all the pages, Fulghum stirred the ashes with the snapped-off portion of a fallen black branch. Satisfied, he drove back to his apartment. While he drove, he called Silvia’s cell phone. She did not answer, so he left her a short message, “Destruction is complete. Fulghum.”
The detective was tempted to go to Silvia’s apartment door as a surprise. He decided against the idea since he valued privacy as much as she did. As he entered his apartment, he received a call from Kenneth Mander. The CIA agent wanted to meet immediately in his office with Jack Daniels and himself attending. Fulghum had half-expected Mander’s call. He did not hesitate except to splash water on his face and dry it off. He made it to his office inside half an hour and found the CIA agent sitting at the top of the stairs outside his office.
“Hi, Ken.”
“Hi, John. Sorry for the late meeting. National security never sleeps.”
“Fortunately, neither does Jack Daniels.”
Within five minutes, the men were seated on opposite sides of Fulghum’s desk drinking their first glasses of Jack Daniels whiskey.
“What’s on your mind, Ken?”
“Do you mind if I play with one of my toys before I begin?”
“Be my guest.”
Ken raised his two fingers to his lips to signal silence. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small electronic device. He walked around the office and behind Fulghum’s desk where he was rewarded with a signal from the device. He gestured for Fulghum to open the second drawer on the left side of his desk and felt the underside until he found the bug planted there. After showing him the bug, Ken sealed it in a Ziploc bag and continued scanning the office until he was satisfied no more bugs could be detected with his hand held device.
“You may not be entirely clean of bugs. I got the nastiest of them in any case. You can keep it as a souvenir.” He tossed Fulghum the bag with the bug. Fulghum caught it. He opened his floor safe and stuffed the bag inside. He closed the safe and spun the dial. Then he turned his chair towards Ken and opened his hands.
“So talk.”
“I understand you met Terry Anheld earlier today. He’s one of our young Korea hands. The DDO told me he has a problem with your demands for certain documents you’ve found.”
“He called himself Rex Mason. They seem to be reasonable requests to me.”
“To show good faith, the Director made a few calls. Kim Su Baek was freed immediately. We happen to know you were contacted by her shortly after that happened. From what the two of you said, she’s got a package for you. I’m here to tell you the package she’s carrying is hot. She’s in a red sector. Meeting you will put you in the same red sector also. What gives with you two?”
“It’s a long story.”
“So let’s bring JD into the picture with us. I’ve got all night.”
Fulghum told Mander the story of Kim Su Baek and their meeting, omitting only the intimate details of their connection. He explained how he helped her get to New York to place her document in a bank safe deposit box and advised her to fly to Seoul to fetch the notebooks she claimed were in a bank safe deposit box there.
“I think the package she’s bringing me includes the notebooks that were in her safe deposit box. Do you want to see those documents too?”
“I don’t really care what’s in those documents. I only know from the Crow that they’re extremely hot articles. Sue’s in deep trouble until she gets rid of those records in a way the opposition will understand she’s no longer in possession. Whoever receives them is then in a red sector. Bad fortune will follow the chain of custody. I’m convinced of that.”
“Let me guess why. Those notebooks contain evidence of a series of illegal wet black ops both in Korea and on American soil. Am I warm?”
“You’re blazing hot. They also describe sources and methods on a joint op between the US and South Korea going back to the end of the hostilities phase of the Korean War. Sources and methods are a hot wire, as you know. Everything and everyone associated with those operations is either cleared TOP SECRET or dead, with no exceptions except for Sue and you.”
“This much I surmised. What’s the Agency connection to Kim Su Baek?”
“She’s a KCIA assassin, trained in her early teens to follow in her grandmother’s and mother’s footsteps. She’s one of the new school of spies. Her forebears played by the old rules and antiquated technologies. She’s got a whole new bag of tricks. Do you know what field her Radcliffe degree is in?”
“No. I didn’t think to ask her.”
“It’s a double major in biochemistry and human physiology. She wrote her undergraduate thesis on the synthesis of undetectable toxins. Did you check on what she was doing at Wharton?”
“Again, no.”
“She was specializing in the mechanics of start-up biotech companies.”
“Any idea what her aim is?”
“No, but one thing’s for certain, whatever it is, it’s not her aim, but South Korea’s, specifically the KCIA’s.”
“I’ve been trying to sort out who killed her father in Pittsfield. That’s the extent of my interest. The rest came out as I followed the quest to satisfy my client.”
“We’ve also been trying to figure it out. Our real concern is not the perpetrator but the timing of the murder.”
“Are you looking at his death in isolation or combined with the death of Sue’s mother and the old man’s lawyer?”
“We at the Agency try to see things whole, at least the Crow and I do. The best we can come up with as a working hypothesis is this - the old man was showing signs of mental failure. The KCIA saw his usefulness was drawing to a close. He had done a great run—and so had the Korean agents he had kept close to him. His operation continued for over sixty years! I’m guessing they wanted to control the end game rather than watch it run out of its own accord.”
“So the KCIA killed all three people?”
“They had the most to gain from doing so.”
“What about the money?”
“You mean the supposed nine hundred million US dollars?”
“Everyone seems to know the stakes. Yes, I do.”
“Everything’s mortgaged at least once over. There’s no pot of gold. It’s gone.”
“So all the infighting about money is a tempest in a teapot?”
“Not exactly. It’s still a deadly game. Some of the greatest fortunes in America have ended up being façades. Once the motive power of money is gone, the question is not whether the money will last but when it will finally run out. I’m telling you the Anderson money has run its course. All the interest in the last will and testament is so much wishful thinking.”
Fulghum thought about this for a moment. He knew at least three million dollars were real. They were sequestered in numbered accounts. He had access to one of those accounts already. He might get a chance to access the other two, didn’t he?
“I can guess what you’re thinking. Forget it. It’s all fools’ gold, John.” The CIA agent sat forward in his chair doing his best to sound convincing.
“So why are you here tonight, Ken?”
“I came to tell you to watch your back.”
“Who’s coming for me, Ken - CIA? KCIA? DPRK?”
“We’re trying to assess that now.”
“Let me try to put this in my own words.” He took a drag on his Marlboro. “I’m effectively becoming your Judas goat. I’m being given the bait to bring the tiger. When the bad guys strike at me, you’ll know who they are. You don’t know now, or you’d take care of business and not bother me with the classified details. Am I close? Or can’t you tell me because I lack a clearance and the need to know?”
“The answers are yes, and yes. If I knew the threat, I would take it out in a heartbeat. Forget the clearance and need to know. I frankly don’t know who we’re dealing with.”
‘What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to drive to Pittsfield and somehow team up with our friend Nigel Pounce. Play textbook detective—be Christie’s Belgian detective Hercule Poirot—until the killer reveals his or her hand. Help us catch this menace.”
“You really think the threat goes farther than to the principal victims - the Judge, his Korean wife, and his lawyer? What would be the point of going further?”
“Some intelligence will get you killed just for knowing it exists. The Koreans on both sides are thorough when they wipe out the traces of their former operations. They can’t be sure who knows what, so they kill anyone who might know anything. For example, somehow Nigel Pounce pried up a marble inset to the back entrance of the Judge’s estate in Pittsfield. He discovered notebooks with accounts of assassinations. Our analysts are working feverishly on those documents now. They’d like to have the documents that preceded the ones Pounce found. I happen to think those are in the possession of Kim Su Baek right now. She’s being watched while she drives down the Mass Pike. She’ll be here tomorrow morning if she’s lucky. She’ll meet you in the back of Joe’s Malt Shop at noon. Don’t be surprised that I know. This is mission essential knowledge. You and Sue can run, John, but you can’t hide when the stakes are this high.”
“Okay, Ken. I’m going to meet Sue tomorrow at noon. What is our best next move?”
“Pick up where you left off in New York City. Become her knight in shining armor again. Take your courtly lady back to Pittsfield. Shack up with her at night while during the daylight hours you help Nigel find the killer. Enlist her help if you can. Keep her enthralled and under control if you can’t.”
“So she becomes my assistant temporarily while we sort things out. Will the deal struck by the Agency and the Chief of Police hold no matter what?”
“You tell me, pal. For all we know, Sue may be the perpetrator after all. We can’t ever know how deeply the DPRK has penetrated the KCIA. She could be working for the opposition even though we think her ancestors were squarely on our side. But were they? We’ll probably never know.”
“Are the boundaries between North and South Korea really that porous?”
“Bet on it. They’re all family. Kim is the last name of the current leader of the DPRK. It’s also the family name for Anderson’s employees. Coincidentally, it’s a name held by a third of the Korean people on both sides of the Demilitarized Zone. Look, I’ve read transcripts indicating the most sensitive sites in the South are fully penetrated by the North. I’ve read other transcripts of conversations between North Korean political and military figures that could only have been obtained by agents in place.”
“Will you and your people be giving us cover all the time we’re in Pittsfield?”
“We’ll be there, John, but we aren’t infallible. You and Pounce dropped off our radar screen when you went fishing in Onota Lake. We picked you up again when you dropped Pounce off at the pier. If something had happened while you were trolling through the water, we weren’t in a position to do anything to help you.”
Fulghum pondered this for a moment. He lit another Marlboro and asked, “Was Anderson’s lawyer one of your people?”
“He was a long-time Agency stringer, too straight-laced and tight-assed to become an agent.”
“And he died somehow.”
“That’s right. We missed an opportunity. Mea culpa. It hurts to know you were right when no one in authority listened.”
“Was the lawyer involved in the Judge’s operations at any level?”
“He was merely a lawyer, a human messenger service, and faithful scribe. He was Harvard all the way up, a good stick. I hope we nail the man or woman who killed him. You can help us.”
“I’m serving Kim Su Baek, Ken. She’s my client. I’ve been hired by her to find the murderer of her father and mother. If incidentally, I find the murderer of the old man’s lawyer so much the better for all of us.”
“We have an understanding, then, my friend. Do what you do best. Snoop and wait. We’ll be watching. If I can help, I’ll be in touch. If you find the bad guys are dropping dead around you, it’s probably us keeping the fleas off you and Sue. I’m going to have one more finger of JD then I’m off. Believe it or not, this Anderson business is not the only job I’m on right now. The Agency never sleeps, and I don’t either.”
Ken savored his last finger of whiskey. Then he left the building and disappeared into the night. Fulghum drove home to get some sleep before he saw Sue again. He knew that once they were together, they were likely to be working night and day. He smiled as he remembered the night she dropped her robe and revealed her golden body in all its naked glory.
He said out loud to himself, “The things a man does for God and country.” Beside the highway, he saw a buck and a doe just standing tall by the side of the road. He knew they were paralyzed by the headlights, but he saw them as a statuesque tableau, meaning what? Perhaps they were a momentary show of nobility before the traffic passed and they continued their nocturnal feast in darkness.