Margo Sappington was late for work, a strange enough occurrence to merit concern. A bright young lawyer in the White House counsel’s office, Margo Sappington was never late. The event was unusual enough to attract the attention of Susan Granger, the secretary on the office switchboard. By ten o’clock she was worried enough to call Margo at home. There was no answer.
Susan frowned. She thought for a moment, picked up the phone, and dialed Holly Barker. “Holly, it’s Susan Granger, over in legal. Did you talk to Margo Sappington yesterday?”
In the national security advisor’s office, Holly shot a look at Teddy and clicked the phone on speaker. “I spoke to Margo, why?”
“She didn’t come in this morning. I wondered if you might have given her some assignment that would have kept her out of the office.”
“No, I didn’t. She probably just overslept.”
“She’s not answering her phone.”
“Her cell phone?”
“That’s right.”
“She probably forgot to turn it on. I’m sure she’ll be in any minute.”
“Well, let me know if you hear anything.”
“Will do.”
Holly clicked the button off. “Do you think something happened to her?”
“Let’s not speculate,” Teddy said. “She didn’t come in, so we’re going to check it out. Where does she live?”
“Hang on. Let me see.” Holly called up the internal directory and scrolled through addresses of White House employees. “Other side of the viaduct.”
“Is that walking distance?”
“Yes.”
Teddy looked over Holly’s shoulder, memorized the address at a glance. “Okay, carry on as usual. I’ll be back.”
“Carry on as usual?”
“You might check in with the President. Isn’t that your job?”
Holly shook her head, chuckled. “It almost seems incidental.”
Teddy left the White House. He checked his gun from habit. Not that he’d need it. No terrorist was holding Margo Sappington hostage in her apartment waiting for him to come in the door. It was a simple situation. Margo Sappington had either overslept or not.
Teddy stepped along briskly, doing the twenty-minute walk in fifteen. The downstairs door was locked. It was a laughable affair, would have taken your average burglar sixty seconds. Teddy had it open in five. He climbed the stairs to the third floor.
The upstairs lock was more formidable. With his tools he’d have had no problem. Without them was a little harder. He was also trying not to leave scratches on the lock. If it came to that, the police would get the wrong impression.
Margo’s apartment was a small one-bedroom affair, but in an exclusive locale. When Teddy opened the door he saw it was tastefully appointed, the few furnishings antique but exquisitely maintained and clearly chosen to make the most of the limited space. But the atmosphere was tainted by the overwhelming odor of stale whiskey.
The liquor was in the bedroom. The open bottle lay tipped over in the bed. There was a half-filled tumbler on the nightstand. A plastic pill bottle lay on its side. The cap was off, and gel-capped pills had spilled out. Seconal from the look of them.
And from the look of her.
Margo Sappington lay on her back in bed. She was dressed for work, but clearly from the day before. Her clothes were rumpled. Her makeup was smeared, and her head lolled to one side. Her eyes were open and staring.
A pill lay near her head, as if she’d tried to put it in her mouth and missed. Another gel-capped pill was in her left hand.
A cop would have no problem labeling Margo a suicide. She’d be just what he expected to find.
There was no reason to stick around. There was nothing Teddy could do for Margo Sappington, and nothing Margo Sappington could do for him. She had told him all he needed to know just by being dead.
Careful as ever not to leave fingerprints, Teddy eased himself out of the apartment and closed the door. He went back down the stairs and walked back to the White House. It was time to waste another burner phone. He was running through them like water.
Teddy whipped out the phone, called 911. “I’d like to report a dead woman.”
“Who is this?”
“She appears to have overdosed on whiskey and pills.” Teddy gave them the address. “There’s nothing to be done for her, but you better get her out of there because she’s going to start to stink.”
“Who is this?”
Teddy hung up the phone. On his way over the viaduct, he threw it in the river.