"Where's my contact? If this is someone's idea of a joke--"
"It's someone's idea of covering your ass, Dubois. You're a public figure, in a public place...talking to a nice old lady. Probably calming her fears about this big bad killer. Even your boy in the corner is still busy watching the door for whomever you're supposed to be meeting."
He shifted in his seat. He had to take the upper hand--or at least find it.
"So who do you represent? I need to know who I'm--"
"A group of publicly minded individuals who've been chasing this madman for you. Protecting their...business interests."
"What kind of business--?"
"What kind of business do you think your boy is in?"
"Who knows? Bunch of experts swear he's--" Dubois stopped. "A professional kil--"
"Smart experts. And if he was a member of said profession, there would likely be other members of said profession more than a little annoyed with the heat he's bringing down." She looked at him. "Who better to stop a killer?"
"So who the hell are you?"
She smiled. "Their fairy godmother...and I just might be yours, too. Let me order a coffee and run a little business proposition past you."
"So that's it," she said as she finished.
"And I somehow do all this without involving my team or my supervisors? This is the FBI, lady. I can't wipe my ass without filling out a triplicate requisition for new toilet paper."
She shrugged. "If it can't be done, then we'll find another way. Lure him in ourselves, take him down and notify the papers, telling them where to find the body--"
"Let me think about it."
"I'm sure you'll come up with something. No one said it would be easy, but the reward..." Another shrug. "Worth the cost, I'd say. If you need to involve someone else, one other person from your team, we understand that. Share the risk and share the glory--your decision."
"You still haven't told me the price. No, wait, let me guess. Prisoners. You want me to release some of your buddies we picked up while looking for this guy. Don't bother asking, because I don't have the kind of authority--"
"Keep them. If they've fucked up enough to get caught, that's not our concern."
He leaned back in his chair and studied her. "If it's not prisoners, it must be amnesty. Your guys want a few 'get out of jail free' cards. Some old cases closed--"
"My boys don't need free passes. Any cases you have on them have been shelved for lack of evidence and lack of interest. Let me save us both some time. We want one thing: this guy's name removed from our ranks. Once he's yours, he was never one of ours."
He thought about that for a moment. "You mean you don't want word of his former occupation getting out."
"A simple request that will make things much tidier for us."
He waited. She sipped her coffee.
"That's it?"
An arched brow. "Well, I could ask for two hundred million, but I suspect the answer would be no. So that's it. A fair and honest bargain, made in good faith. Do we have a deal?"
He hesitated, then nodded.
* * *
FORTY-NINE
The press conference was scheduled for 4 p.m., and by two, the announcement was on every local radio and TV station, and probably half the stations across the country. If Wilkes wanted to know whether the Feds had found me yet, he'd be tuning in. If he hoped to make sure I wasn't around for a police lineup or court case, he'd have stayed in town to take care of that...and would be at that press conference.
Evelyn, Felix and Quinn took off on their various tasks, making sure everything would run as smoothly as possible. Jack, Felix and I concentrated on the house. It was a row house in an area rife with student housing. As we'd seen with the Vegas condos, a row house limited access to the front and back, meaning Jack and Quinn could cover it. Student housing meant that it would either be near-vacant for homecoming, or there'd be parties nearby to cover any noise.