—
THE MEETINGtook an hour. Lucas outlined the investigation, starting with the request from Smalls to finding the suspect truck to discovering the logs. He concluded by saying that the West Virginia accident investigators were looking at the paint sample with several different machines that he didn’t understand and would provide solid evidence that the paint came from Smalls’s Cadillac.
One of the feds said to Lucas, “We understand that you have a close relationship with the senator.”
“We’re not exactly friends, but I worked on an investigation that involved the Smalls–Grant Minnesota election two years ago, when Grant won Smalls’s Senate seat,” Lucas said. “He remembered me from then, asked me to work on this problem. I consulted with my superiors at the Marshals Service, and they concluded that the request was legitimate and that I could go forward with it.”
Forte added, with a smile, “Seeing that it was Senator Smalls, and that the Republican caucus voted to restore the seniority he held before his defeat by Senator Grant.”
“We’re not, uh, affected by the influence of a single senator,” one of the FBI suits said.
O’Conner said, “Really?”
The suit nodded, and said, “Yes, really,” but nobody really believed him. He didn’t even believe himself.
“Not even a senator who was the victim of an apparent assassination attempt...?”
Another suit, this one a woman named Jane Chase, jumped in. “This isn’t the time or place to debate questions of influence.” She turned to Lucas. “You have a good deal of experience as a homicide investigator for the Minneapolis Police Department and the Bureau of Criminal Investigation.”
“Bureau of CriminalApprehension,” Lucas corrected. “Yeah. Overall, I was the lead on about ninety murder cases, give or take, over twenty-five years or so. Most of them were straightforward enough, but some were... intricate. I’ve worked closely with a couple of your agents.”
She nodded. “We know. Deputy Director Mallard vouches for you and recommends that we step back and allow the Marshals Service to lead on this investigation.”
“Nice of him,” Lucas said. And, “He’s a smart guy.”
“Yes, he is,” Chase said. She looked around the table at the rest of the suits. “Does anyone have a problem with allowing Marshal Davenport and his colleagues to lead this investigation, at least for now?”
One of the men said, to Lucas, “You’ll need to be cautiously aggressive. But aggressive.”
All the feds nodded, and O’Conner said, “Listen, guys, thanks for the support. We think we’ve got an edge on this thing...”
Lucas held up a finger. “I have a couple more things. I was hoping I could get some FBI help. It wouldn’t be anything you’d have to go public with at all... unless you wanted to.”
They all knew what that meant: if credit and congratulations were being handed out, the FBI could get in the front of the line. If it were hellfire and damnation instead, they could pass and pretend they were in the cafeteria, buying Ding Dongs, when the trouble started.
“Go ahead and talk,” Chase said, clicking her iPhone to look at the time without sneaking the move. In other words,I’m busyand alsoI’m the one in charge here.
Lucas outlined the problem with the vehicle armor provided to the Army by Inter-Core Ballistics and the problems with the bidding process. He also gave them the Internet links that demonstrated the problems.
“I think you’ll find widespread corruption involving the bids—Army officers and enlisted men, a high-ranking Senate aide, a military contractor who also provides mercenaries to the countries we’re involved in... all of that. Even worse, the products they provided, products that were supposed to protect our military people, had already been proven inferior,” he told the agents.
There were glances around the table, and Chase said, “That would be something we could be interested in. But what’s in it for you?”
“If you could take a quick look at this, and ask some questions that would get back to Heracles... that might provide me with a bit of leverage,” Lucas said. “I could explain that I could come talk with you about who at Heracles gets hurt.”
Chase pushed out her lower lip, more glances were exchanged, and she said, “I can’t green-light you implicating us directly in any kind of a deal, but I would be willing to keep you up to date on what we might find... regarding Heracles.”
“I seriously appreciate that,” Lucas said. “Seriously.”
“Seriously,” she repeated, and, “If you lie about a deal, of course there’s nothing illegal about that.”
“Right,” Bob said. “We know that. We do it all the time.”
Chase eye-checked Bob, looking for possible cynicism, butBob’s face was as innocent as the moon’s. She turned backed to Lucas. “Was there something else?” she asked.
Lucas fished a thumb drive out of his pocket and slid it across the table to the woman, who didn’t immediately touch it. “This is a video. I’ve seen—you know, on television—that you guys are good with photo enhancement. We think this is a video of the truck that hit Senator Smalls. We can see the plates, but the faces of the men inside are obscured by reflections off the windows. And they’re wearing sunglasses. But if we could get a peek, get anything...”
Chase nodded. “We’ll take a look.”
