Our Pentagon meeting wrapped up, and we prepared to leave when word reached General Towers that the yacht was American-owned . . . out of Charleston, South Carolina. I hoped that might be the one. As we were saying our goodbyes, Towers complimented the senators on how focused we all had been. He would report to the SECDEF and proceed accordingly, which means that the Defense Department would confer with the State Department on how to handle the yacht still sitting in Carmaya’s harbor.
Ro, Michael, and I rode into DC with Crawford, the only one of us with a vehicle. As we neared the Star, I knew I needed to put Carmaya behind me and concentrate on the Senate. We’d been gone less than forty-eight hours, yet it seemed like a month.
“Do we know if Senator Pembroke has resigned the chairmanship?”
“Not that I’ve heard, Laura,” Gavin said.
“I expect the FBI is close to indicting some folks. I know Captain Walsh is anxious to wrap up Mort’s case,” I said, partly to bring this subject back into everyone’s focus.
“I’ll be following up with Dad on Carmaya.”
Crawford added, “I’ll keep up with the DOD.”
When they dropped me off, I was feeling a special kinship with my three partners and hoped it was mutual.
Everybody seemed to want a piece of me the moment I walked into the newsroom. I met with Grace Herman and talked with Claire Rowley. I met with Barton and Riley, and saw Lassiter for a minute. When I finally was able to sit at my desk, it was nearly 3:00, and I hadn’t talked to Max. I called him.
“Well, how was Treasure Island?”
“This treasure was a pharmaceutical processing plant for Tutoxtamen.”
“How was the fishing?”
“Rufus McAllister will have to tell you all about that.”
Max grunted. “Don’t bother, I couldn’t tolerate the long ride down and back.”
“The attackers were foreign mercenaries, most likely eastern Europeans, according to CIA and Interpol. It’s fairly certain they came from a yacht that is now being held in the Carmayan harbor by the Carmayan government.”
“War is getting classier all the time,” Max teased.
“What’s happening here?”
“It’s unglamorous, but steady. The PI is still in Miami, but has had no known contact with H. Don’t have anything new on the Hill people.”
Horowitz would have layers of intermediaries between him and the PI. “Have you talked with the Mort girl?”
“The young lady is an innocent. Did you know she worked in H’s law firm? A female lawyer there was her handler, who we’re now observing.”
I hadn’t known that. “When you talk to Reed, would you ask if he knows a Ted Schmitt, an FBI counterterrorism agent? He was at our morning meeting at the Pentagon. By the way, we’ll be on Scalawag this weekend.”
“I’ll call you.”
We said our goodbyes. My office phone rang. “Laura Wolfe.”
“It’s Michael. How’s your day going?”
“Too many meetings. Captain Walsh told me Tina is a person of interest, but on the low end. Did you know she worked in Horowitz’s firm?”
“No. I called to tell you to put fresh batteries in your tape machine.”
“I always have an extra pair, why?”
“Senator Crawford just called us; Senator Pembroke is resigning his chairmanship at the end of the day tomorrow.” He let that hang.
“And . . .”
“Senator Pembroke wants to tell his story to you before the dam breaks.”
“Wow. When and where?”
“Senator Crawford’s office tomorrow at 3:00.”
“Any strings?”
“None were mentioned.”
“I’ll be there.” We signed off, and I sat for a moment reflecting on Crawford’s comments about his earlier meeting with Pembroke. Then I gathered my notes and headed to Lassiter’s office. Even though she was not technically my editor on the Senate story, she was very much involved in Mort’s murder. But the truth be known, I wanted her reactions and advice to everything I’d been doing. In my heart, she was still my editor.
“How was the trip?” she asked, as I walked in. “Was it worth the time?”
“Very much.” I didn’t start with that, though; I told her about Pembroke first.
“You’re right in the middle again. Any embargoes?”
“None were mentioned. I’d like to run something by you.” I gave her my thoughts on the ramifications of what I saw as coming down in the Senate.
Without comment on my remarks, she said, “We better go see Barton and Riley.”
The two men were captivated and pleased at having the exclusive on Pembroke. Resigning a Senate chairmanship is news, but what was contained underneath that decision was very obviously the bigger story.
“Has he been approached by the authorities?” Barton asked.
“Not as of an hour ago when I talked to Captain Walsh.”
“Get his mea culpa,” Riley said. “Let’s see what he says; maybe that’ll give us a clue about how to proceed.”
Lassiter said, “Developing a headline story is one thing, acting on it is another. Pembroke hasn’t been charged by MPD or the FBI. I think Laura should pass this by Captain Walsh.”
I smiled to myself. Lassiter knew how I worked, and Riley didn’t.
Riley was scowling. “Could he be planning a vanishing act?”
“No,” I said. “From what little I know of him, I believe he’ll stay and humble himself before his peers and family. I believe he wants to write his own obituary. Get his words out there before others do that for him.”