“I decided a bank deposit box was an intelligent choice, perhaps one it would be hard to trace to him. But if so, which bank? I had an analyst whose name I cannot tell you investigate Sergei Petrov, his activities, his connections. He found Elena Orlov for me quickly, Petrov’s closest contact. He even unearthed the name Cortina Alvarez, the alias she uses when it suits her. A search of her bank records showed me she had opened a safe-deposit box at her bank, the Second National Bank of Alexandria, the day after Mia Prevost was murdered. I didn’t know for sure, but that safe-deposit box seemed the only way forward.
“I hired Liam Hennessey through an intermediary, an acquaintance from twenty years back, a man far enough removed so he wouldn’t be linked to me. I paid him fifty thousand dollars to remove Cortina Alvarez’s safe-deposit box and five other boxes around it, to confuse the issue. That’s when it all went sideways.
“As you know, Hennessey’s partner—a man he hired without telling my intermediary—killed a bank teller, and Hennessey got himself shot and ended up caught in a deserted warehouse in Alexandria. It was a tragedy, that poor woman murdered, and it was my fault, I was culpable.” He raised incredibly weary eyes to Savich’s face. “I was prepared to admit everything to President Gilbert when the FBI reported they couldn’t find the contents of the safe-deposit boxes, that somehow Liam Hennessey, even grievously wounded, had managed to hide them before the FBI found him. Perhaps if he’d died or didn’t tell them, there was still a chance for Saxon.” He gave a laugh. “And for me.”
“When Hennessey survived, I didn’t dare contact him to arrange a deal for the whereabouts of Cortina Alvarez’s safe-deposit box. I would have had to borrow a great deal of money, and it might have exposed me. When it came down to it, it didn’t matter because Petrov outbid me. I’m sure he offered this criminal more than I ever could have, and he managed to pull off an amazing escape for him.
“You’re right about Petrov calling me today. He said I had cost him a great deal of trouble and money, but no more. He gave me seventy-two hours to get the sanctions lifted from his father and the Transvolga Group or he would give all the evidence against Saxon to the police. He told me I’d end up in jail also, next to my son. I was a murderer, after all. Petrov has—had—a very ugly laugh.
“I will be honest with you, Agent Savich. I hadn’t decided what I would do tomorrow. I like to think I would have confessed all of it to the president, but it was tempting to try to get those sanctions lifted from Petrov Senior and his company. And now you’ve made that moot.
“I cannot tell you how very sorry I am that bank teller was killed. I never intended—” He shook his head. “I know that I am legally guilty of murder, I know I have lost everything, my position with the president, my freedom. If you will allow me, Agent Savich, I would like to tell President Gilbert in the morning.”
Savich nodded.
“What will you do with the box?”
“I’ve given it a lot of thought, Mr. Hainny. The man who murdered Mia Prevost is dead, so he can’t be prosecuted for that crime. I would prefer to destroy it, put all of this mess as far behind Saxon as I can, but if you are brought to trial for your part in the murder of that bank teller, then it would be considered evidence. I intend to keep the box until a determination is made about your future. I will not tell Detective Raven about the plot against you, or about the box. The murder of Mia Prevost will officially remain unsolved, I see no way around that. In the end, she did have justice. I will explain what happened to Saxon, if you would like me to.”
“I will speak to Saxon. I’m his father. He’ll hate me, Agent Savich, and who could blame him? I lied to him and left him nothing but my shame to face.”
A tear slowly fell down his cheek. “At least my son will be safe.”
“Mr. Hainny, don’t underestimate your son. He might choose to stand with you.”
Savich rose and walked to the study door, turned and asked, “Could you have gotten those sanctions lifted?”
Hainny laughed. “Very probably. You wouldn’t believe what I can get done in this town.”
61
SAVICH HOUSE
GEORGETOWN
THURSDAY EVENING
Savich looked around his living room at the agents he and Sherlock had invited to their house for an evening to decompress and chow down pizza and Sherlock’s amazing apple pie. It was still bubbling it was so hot, and the smell of cinnamon filled the air. No one broke the reverent silence as Sherlock carefully cut the slices the same size and divvied up the entire pie, sliding a slice onto each waiting plate. She said, smiling, “This has been quite a wild ride for all of us, guys, so sit back and enjoy. I’ve got to remember to wash the pan and put it away tonight so Sean doesn’t see it. He wouldn’t let up until I made another one.” She lifted her own plate and breathed in the wonderful smell before she settled into her chair.
There were occasional moans of pleasure, and finally, the scraping of forks on empty plates. Cam looked at her empty pie plate, sighed, and set it on the coffee table. She started up again, telling the CARD agents about the melee at Sergei Petrov’s house the previous night, lightly patting Jack’s wounded arm for effect, and waving her own right arm to show she no longer needed a sling. “The boy here was the only casualty. He and I agree we can both handle getting small nicks from time to time.”
Jack said, “That’s right, Wittier. You and I, we’ve covered a lot of territory since Monday, first our memorable hike into the Daniel Boone National Forest and finally that shoot-out on the Potomac with Petrov last night. Quite a ride.” He nodded to Ruth and Ollie, raised his beer bottle and toasted everyone. “Here’s to small nicks.”
Sherlock began stacking the empty plates. “And Eric Hainny, chief of staff to the president, was at the root of it all. I find I feel sorry for him, even though the one time I met him, I wanted to smack him in the chops. He’s had to resign and now he’ll probably be indicted for the bank teller’s murder.”
Ollie said, “And it was all set into motion by Petrov. I wonder if Hainny ever considered killing him.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Savich said, “but the fact is, he’s not a killer, despite what happened at the bank. He did what he did to save his son, the single most important person to him in the world, and the rest of the world be damned.”
Sherlock said, “That’s why I feel sorry for him, Dillon. I know I’d sign over the galaxy to keep Sean safe, as I bet all of you would for your kids.”
There was no disagreement.
Cam poured herself another cup of coffee. “And Sherlock, what you and Connie and Bolt have been through. I understand this Dr. Maddox wanted people with a specific DNA, but I don’t understand what he was looking for.”
Sherlock said, “Near as we understand for now from his records, Maddox looked through the DNA of laboratory mice first, identified the few that could tolerate his drug, discovered how they were genetically different. Then he looked through the thousands of genomes housed at Gen-Core to find the people with the same variant of the human gene, and he found Thomas Denham, his first victim, or as Dr. Maddox would insist, his first test subject. He only lived three months. Dr. Maddox went looking again and found another, more useful, variant, and he kidnapped Dr. Arthur Childers, his second victim, and put him under lock and key. He’s the young man still in a coma at Washington Memorial. Both Enigma One and Enigma Two, as Maddox labeled Denham and Childers, metabolized the drug differently from everyone else, and the metabolites in their blood, and in their plasma, were no longer toxic. So he took plasma regularly from Arthur Childers while giving him the drug, and it’s that plasma he gave to others, and to his father, along with whatever else he thought might be helpful. When he impregnated Kara Moody with Arthur Childers’s sperm, he was trying to combine both those genetic variants in one person, trying to create someone who could tolerate his drug without any toxicity at all.
“And that someone was Alex Moody, or Enigma Three, his wonder source.”
Connie said, “It appalls me to think what he would have done to that baby.” She took Bolt’s hand. “But it didn’t happen.”