The three of them met in Washington a week later, at a French restaurant near K Street. A sentimental choice, Claire said, as the waiter seated them at a table for four.
“We’ll pretend that the fourth seat is for Helen.”
Anna glanced at the empty chair as if it might suddenly produce an apparition. Then she cleared her throat and looked down at her menu.
“Does this have anything to do with Mom’s awful snow globe?”
Claire looked up with a start.
“She still had that?”
“It’s on a shelf in her office.”
Claire smiled brilliantly, a thousand watts of joy.
“Hideous, isn’t it?”
“What’s the story behind it?” Henry asked. “You even mentioned it in your last letter.”
“No idea.” Claire looked back at the menu but was still smiling. The waiter took their orders, and then Claire laid down the ground rules.
“Everything I’m about to tell you will stay between us. I’m only doing this as a favor to her.” She nodded toward the empty chair. “Are we all agreed?”
“Well, I know Henry can keep a secret when an authority figure asks him,” Anna said. “So, sure, I’ll go along with that.”
“I’m in,” Henry said. “Anna, how’s your brother doing?”
The question seemed to disarm her, piercing the shell of resistance she’d brought to the table.
“He’s pretty much his old self, now that the Zolexa is out of his system. Telling him Merle was gone was like removing a spell. He’s still not sure what happened, but from everything he’s said it’s clear that Merle convinced him he’d be able to change himself to be just like everybody else—smart, in other words—as long as he did as he was told, by destroying everyone’s ‘bad souls.’ Then everybody would emerge brand-new, him included. But first he had to aim true, right at their heads, or it wouldn’t work. So you were right all along about the sign. He was counting himself out, too. It was part of the reset that was going to make everyone better.”
“And are you okay?”
“I’ve been better. This whole thing—in one way, all it really did was postpone the collapse. It kept my mind working so hard that I never had time to grieve, or even say goodbye. The moment I got home from North Carolina I started to cry. I didn’t leave my apartment for almost a week.”
Henry took her hand, and she didn’t pull it back. Anna cleared her throat.
Through it all, Claire remained silent, her face placid. It seemed clear she was awaiting their cue to resume, so Anna turned toward her and spoke.
“I think you’re the one we really want to hear from. Tell us about Gilley and Audra. Was she really with the Pond? Were they working together all those years?”
“Heavens no to the latter. Although yes to your first question, so let’s back up a few years.” Claire checked for eavesdroppers, still the careful custodian of secrets.
“I think you both have a pretty good idea of what got this whole thing started—those tapes. Two sticks of dynamite, even if it took them ages to detonate. The second one, with Gilley? That’s easy to read. A rape followed by a murder, with Delacroix to help him.”
“But the tape about the Pond,” Henry said. “Did no one figure that out until a few months ago?”
“I’m pretty sure a few higher-ups got wind of it right away, thanks to Helen’s friend, Clark Baucom, but they never aggressively acted on it. The Pond had survived, yes, mostly with the help of a few obliging corporations, but it hadn’t amounted to much. Small budgets and large egos, mistaking their insignificance for autonomy. They had a few patrons in the Pentagon, the occasional congressman, but I gather that certain elements in the Agency viewed it all along as a sort of glorified corporate security firm, whose people were sometimes useful. They were the whisper in an ear, the tap on a shoulder, and if you were a client they could always tell you what you wanted to hear. Remember the source Curveball and all that hokum that led us into Iraq?”
“That was from the Pond?” Henry said.
“One way or another, apparently.”
“So, not always so harmless,” Anna said. “Plus, what about that guy on the tape, talking about ‘elimination, plain and simple.’ ”
“They were always pretty nasty to anyone who they thought might betray them. Which is of course what eventually made Audra such a danger to your mother.”
“Audra was still part of it, even now?”
“She was their archivist from ’55 onward. They were content to let Grombach’s older papers rot in a barn as part of their cover, but her real coup was in securing an archival job with the CIA, in the late fifties, where she became the Pond’s conduit for any CIA materials they might want to see.”
“Did the Agency know that?”
“Not until a few weeks ago. And it was almost certainly Audra who got Helen fired back in ’79. When your mom first started asking for records about ‘Lewis,’ the code name on the first tape, Audra tried to divert her by giving her more material on Gilley. That’s when she first put Helen in touch with me, because she knew I had my own axe to grind about Gilley.
“So there we were, the three of us, seemingly united in our sub rosa effort to take down Gilley. Then Helen filed a request asking for the whereabouts of Edward Stone, the wheezing man, and Audra realized her diversion wasn’t working. So, she told the Berlin chief of station that Helen was seeking information above her clearance. The next day, he lowered the boom.”
“He fired her?” Anna said.
“First thing in the morning. But instead of going quietly, Helen went on the run. She was sure Gilley was the one who had brought her down, and was determined to return the favor. That’s where I came in, helping her once she made it to Paris. And on the Gilley front, Audra was still willing to pitch in as well. Partly out of guilt, I suppose.”
“What happened then?” Anna asked.
“Lots of things. Most of which I’m still not allowed to tell you. All you really need to know is that your mother was splendid under pressure, and was able to gather up the necessary goods without betraying either my role or Audra’s. And for her troubles she got a severance package, and that murdering rapist Gilley got to keep his job, mostly because murder was his whole reason for employment. A deeply unsatisfying result, but that’s how it can work in this business. And that’s how it would have ended, too, if Gilley hadn’t gotten cold feet about the arrangement when he moved into the public arena. I think he’d always suspected your mom still had copies of the evidence against him.”
“Is that why he showed up that day at the mall?” Anna said. “To let her know she was in danger if she ever blabbed?”
Claire eyed her carefully.
“Something like that. And then, well, you saw the letters. When we found out Gilley might become a force in the White House, or maybe even director of intelligence, it was too much to stomach. So we laid our plans, and it all might have gone smoothly if I hadn’t sent Helen that damned obituary for Clark Baucom. Because then she went poking around at the Archives, and finally discovered what the first tape was all about.”
“And saw the reference to Audra,” Henry said. “Is that when the strands crossed?”
“Yes, because by then Gilley was in touch with Audra. He had found out about her little secret through the back channels he’d always inhabited, so instead of threatening her he offered a deal. Help keep your gabby girlfriends quiet, and once I’m in power I’ll usher your pals at the Pond out into the beautiful light of day, where they can finally flourish.”
“That fits with what Newsweek said, about him being a fan of private intelligence gathering.”
“Meaning that, for Audra, he was no longer the enemy. He was someone to be courted. That’s when everything got dangerous for Helen, because Audra had a source at the Archives keeping her apprised of everyone who was viewing the materials.”
“Not Hilliard, I hope?” Anna said.
“No. Some flunky who was happy for the extra pay. And when Audra realized what your mother had seen, she told Gilley we were planning to out him.”
“Which was as good as killing her.”
“Yes. Although, based on Audra’s debriefing, she was as appalled as everyone by what happened. She thought Gilley would steal back the materials, or bully your mom into giving them up. But theft and bullying were never his preferred methods.”
The table was quiet for a few seconds.
“Anyway, that’s where Henry came in, right after Audra crossed over.”
“Me?” he said.
“Helen mailed me the tapes for safekeeping after she figured out Audra’s role. I took a sounding in the community and didn’t like the rumblings, so I contacted a few sources. One of them got in touch with you, Henry. They’d heard Audra was looking for someone to keep an eye on Helen, so they dangled your name in front of them, the handyman from Justice who was looking for a new job. And, by doing so…”
“Used me to keep tabs on Audra’s people, like Mitch.”
“Correct.”
“Everyone must have been overjoyed when I hired him, too,” Anna said.
“It was a bit more involved than that. Stu Wilgus, that fellow who referred you to Henry?”
“He was part of this?”
“Oh, I doubt he even knew who he was helping, or why. But when Audra got wind that you’d made an inquiry about hiring a PI, she arranged for an old lawyer friend of Wilgus’s to ask him to pass along Henry’s name.”
Anna shook her head in disbelief.
“So, if Audra was the Pond archivist,” Henry asked, “where did she keep all the records?”
“Almost everything now is digital, but all the papers since ’55 are in that barn of hers. Climate-controlled, state-of-the-art. I’m told the Agency is having a fine time going through it all.”
“Wow,” Henry said.
“Yes. No more Pond, even under its reduced circumstances. Not that you’ll ever hear any of this in the news. The burial will be private.”
“What about Gilley?”
“He’s finished. Facing felony charges and a new investigation, Delacroix as well. I’ve been assured by the U.S. Attorney himself that this time neither of them will wriggle free. Although, if the Agency has its way, it will all be handled in private.”
“No fucking way!” Henry said.
“I was hoping you’d say that. And if you’re still willing to stick your necks out—figuratively, this time—then the U.S. Attorney would very much like to hear from you both. He, too, wants to make it public. Call this afternoon and he may even depose you this week.”
She handed them business cards with the necessary phone numbers.
“Is that the real reason you asked us here?” Anna said, sounding a little disappointed.
“One of them.”
“Whatever it takes,” Henry said.
“My feelings as well. Now, then. As much as I’ve enjoyed seeing you, Henry, this is where I politely ask you to leave, so that Anna and I can discuss some further things about her mother.”
“Oh. Sure. But first I’d like a private word with Anna, if you don’t mind.”
“As long as Anna’s okay with it.”
Anna looked back and forth between them, as if probing for signs of collusion. Then she nodded.
“I’ll be in the bar,” Claire said, standing. Henry rose as well, and clasped her hand in gratitude.
“Thank you, Claire. For everything.”
“Thank you, Henry. You did good work.”
“Yeah, well.” He looked down at the floor, probably because he preferred not to remind Anna just then of how good some of that work had been. Claire departed, and he sat back down. When he looked up, Anna was eyeing him closely.
“Good to see you again,” he said.
“I’d like to say otherwise, but I’ll admit that I can’t. So how have you been?”
“Rethinking some of my career choices. And my solitude.”
“Sounds healthy enough.”
“Anna, I haven’t always been the greatest at figuring out what I want in life. But on the few occasions I have, I’ve been pretty determined to make it work. And that’s how I feel about you. I’d like to make it work. So, if you’ve decided that you don’t want anything more to do with me, tell me now. Otherwise, I’m going to keep trying to stay in touch.”
“I may need a day or two to answer that. But if you can wait, I think you might like the result.”
“I’m good with that.”
“Provided you’ll never duck another question.”
“I’m good with that, too.”
He smiled resolutely, like a man preparing to begin a siege. Then he stood, nodded to Claire at the bar, and headed for the door.
Claire settled back into her seat as Anna watched him leave.
“You could do worse, you know,” Claire said.
“He did lie to me.”
“For all the right reasons. Mostly. And he did tell you more than he should have.”
“Still.”
“Yes. Still. This job will do that to you. Yet another reason I never stayed married.”
“You were married?”
“Not your business.”
“Is that why you live in York? Your neighbors were certainly wondering.”
“Also not your business. Let’s talk about your mother.”
“All right, then. What was she like? At my age, I mean, and even younger?”
“She was bold, brave, witty, and resourceful. One of the most wonderful people I ever knew. And they never should have let her go.”
“Wow.”
“Here’s another wow. We had more than one adventure together.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tell me, did your mother ever run off on any sudden trips on her own, little family visits that maybe lasted a week or so but she never talked about all that much?”
Anna thought about it for a second, and her eyes widened.
“I remember her going off to Georgia a few times, to visit a couple of invalid aunts.”
“These aunts, did you ever meet them? Or come across their photos in any family albums?”
“Unbelievable. Where was she really?”
“Maybe someday, when all the dust settles, I’ll write you a long letter to tell you all about it.”
“I think I’d rather hear it from you in person, when the time comes.”
“I’m pleased you feel that way. Any other questions?”
“How well did she know Audra?”
“Not well. They didn’t even meet until years later. In fact, Helen said you were with her at the time. On Capitol Hill, I think.”
“Of course! The photo! We found it in her stuff, me and mom with an older woman on the Mall. I remember she took us to lunch. Some place with wood paneling and fussy waiters.”
“The Old Ebbitt Grill. Her favorite haunt whenever she was in the city. And, as I said, I’m convinced Audra never wanted harm to come to your mother.”
“She seemed ready enough to kill Henry and me.”
“Yes, well, by then she’d crossed the line, and all by making a terrible miscalculation about Gilley. She’ll take that to her grave.”
“Good.”
“I agree. She’s earned her guilt. We all do in this business, one way or another. So there’s the silver lining for your poor mother. She got out while her conscience was still clear.”
“Except for Anneliese.”
“Not her fault, but I’m sure you’re right. It’s why she reactivated our network, because she was determined it wasn’t going to happen twice. You were the Anneliese she could still protect.”
“But—”
“I know. You weren’t aware of that. Which is why I brought you something, a note she sent me. One from Kevin Gilley on that day at the mall.”
“He passed her a note?”
“While you were trying on clothes or something.”
Claire took a folded paper out of her handbag and handed it to Anna, who slowly read the words with their pointed threat, their ghastly warning.
“So you see?” Claire said. “That’s the one thing capable of saving us all. Not our compromises, or the things we withhold, and certainly not our betrayals. But the idea that what we’re really doing is fighting for the people we love. You, in the case of your mother. That’s really what I wanted to tell you today. For her sake.”
Claire stood. She briefly placed a hand on Anna’s shoulder, and then walked away.