Schermerhorn had told his story, and he was agitating to leave. No way in hell was he sticking around to see how things turned out, and he sure in hell wasn’t going out to Langley to look at faces.
“I don’t care what Alex or George did to change their identities; it’s the eyes. I never forget the shape, and especially not the expression,” he’d told them.
McGarvey phoned Louise at two in the afternoon, after Schermerhorn had promised to at least give them until dark.
“I want to bring our guy over to your place, just for the night,” he said.
“We have the third bedroom upstairs. Anyway, Audie’s safe.”
“I didn’t ask Otto yet, because he’d say yes no matter what.”
“Will Pete be with you?”
“Yes.”
“Then if he gets out of line, there’ll be three of us to shoot him. See you in a half hour.”
McGarvey had phoned from the bedroom of Pete’s apartment, and when he came back to the living room, Schermerhorn was again staring out the window at the parking lot and street that led up to Dupont Circle. He was looking for someone to show up, and he turned around with a start.
“Who’d you call, some minders?” he asked. Minders were security officers. Like babysitters with guns.
“A friend at another safe house. We’re moving you there immediately.”
Schermerhorn was alarmed. “I said I’d give you until dark, but then I’m out of here. If you want to ask me some more questions, go ahead. But then that’s it.”
“We’ve already told your story to the DCI and the director of clandestine services, plus the Company’s general counsel. They know about the fourth panel, and they know you’re here.”
“Shit,” Schermerhorn said, and made for the door.
Pete pulled out her gun and pointed it at him. “I will shoot you, Roy,” she said.
Schermerhorn pulled up short and turned to her. “And then what?” he asked. Suddenly he didn’t seem so concerned.
“There’ll be a good chance you’ll be dead before we can get an ambulance over here.”
“I meant, I’m going with you to another safe house. But then what?”
McGarvey motioned for Pete to put down her gun. “We’re getting out of here just in case the leak at Langley also knows where you are. Could be we’re saving your life.”
“Noble of you.”
“Just protecting our investment. And when we’re done, you’ll be free to walk.”
“Providing I give you what you want.”
“The killer.”
* * *
Schermerhorn had brought nothing with him. He’d stashed what he’d taken from Milwaukee somewhere safe nearby, and when it was time to leave, he’d get out of Washington clean.
“To go where?” Pete asked on the way over to the Renckes’ safe house in Georgetown.
“Someplace safe.”
“That’s what Carnes and Coffin thought,” McGarvey said.
Schermerhorn fell silent, but he glanced over his shoulder out the rear window every ten seconds or so.
Pete was driving. “We haven’t picked up a tail,” she said.
“What about the gray Caddy Escalade? Been with us since we crossed Rock Creek.”
“It’s not one of ours,” Pete said. She turned left on Twenty-Seventh Street NW, and one block later right on O Street. The Escalade was no longer behind them. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” Schermerhorn said.
McGarvey called ahead, and Louise opened the iron gate to the parking area behind the brownstone. She was waiting at the door for them as the gate swung shut.
“So who’s the mystery guest? One of the Alpha Seven crowd?”
Schermerhorn introduced himself and held out his hand, but Louise just looked at him for a moment then stepped aside so they could come in.
“Otto should be back any minute,” she said, leading them through the rear hall to the kitchen. “Said he’d finished with the meeting.”
“How’d it go?” McGarvey asked.
“Just about the way you said it would,” Louise said. “Anyone want a beer?”
Schermerhorn shook his head.“You’re Otto Rencke’s wife,” he said.
“So they tell me,” she said. “Someone killed your girlfriend.”
Schermerhorn nodded.
“Chewed her up just like the others.”
“It was meant for me.”
Louise got a couple of beers from the fridge for Pete and Mac, and one for herself. “Doesn’t seem as if you’re shook up about it.”
“Should I be?”
Louise gave McGarvey a look, as if to say, Scumbag, and Schermerhorn caught it.
“It’s the nature of the job,” he said. “You folks trained me.”
“Don’t get me started. I’ve known plenty of NOCs,” Louise said. She looked up at the monitor unit on the wall next to the back hall. “Otto’s home.”
“Does he know I’m here?” Schermerhorn asked.
“He does now,” Louise said.
Otto breezed in, gave his wife a kiss, and put his iPad on the counter. “Roy Schermerhorn, the Kraut,” he said.
“Did you come in clean?”
Otto laughed. “I don’t know. I never did check my rearview mirror,” he said. “You guys up for pizza tonight? We can order in.”
“Did you narrow down the range of possibles?” McGarvey asked.
“Thirty-seven of them, nine women, all of them about the right age, or close, though I wouldn’t trust the personnel files with my life. Nothing obvious jumped out at me, but these guys were professionals.”
“I’m not going to be able to tell you anything from looking at a bunch of files,” Schermerhorn said. “You’re wasting my time.”
Otto turned on his iPad and shoved it in front of Schermerhorn. The photograph of Walter Wager came up on the screen.
“Jesus,” Schermerhorn said, sitting down. “It’s Walt.”
“Mr. Ponderous,” Otto said. He brought up Fabry’s and then Knight’s photos from their personnel files. “They were hiding out in the open, hoping being inside they’d be safe.”
“Isty and Tom,” Schermerhorn said softly. He looked up. “Could I have that beer after all?”
Louise got him one.
Otto brought up Coffin’s prison photo. “Do you recognize this one?”
Schermerhorn stared at the image for a long time.
“The eyes ring any bells?” McGarvey asked.
“It’s Larry, all right. I’d recognize him anywhere. But he looks different. Worn-out, maybe sad. I don’t know. Not himself.”
“He was running for his life, just like you are,” McGarvey said. “Only he wasn’t quick enough. Neither were Carnes or the others.”
“Or your girlfriend,” Louise said into the sudden silence.
“You can see it in his eyes,” Schermerhorn said.
“He didn’t look like that the last time we saw him,” McGarvey said. “He took a sniper rifle round to the back of his head. Completely destroyed his face.”
“That’s what Alex and George did to the rag heads in the end,” Schermerhorn said, his voice soft.
“Are you ready to look at the rest of the pictures?” McGarvey said.
Schermerhorn took a deep drink of his beer then nodded. “Sure,” he said.