THERE HAD PROBABLY never been a takedown like this one, not in the annals of police history, definitely not in my police history.
We convened on the Kennedy Center’s River Terrace just outside the Grand Foyer, where the party was in full swing. I’d already seen a handful of movie stars floating by the sixty-foot-high windows, but as yet there was no sign of Teddy Vance. No sign of Zeus?
Luke Hamel from the Bureau had brought another senior agent with him, James Walsh, whom I didn’t recognize and didn’t think I’d met before. My old boss Ron Burns was keeping his distance on this one, but he’d also made sure there was a place here for me and Mahoney. I’d return the favor someday if I could.
From Secret Service, we had Riordan and Ridge in addition to the operational team already on site. That meant agents in tuxes paired up on all the doors, a heavy MPD presence down at street level, and a chopper and EMTs on standby, all standard for any presidential event.
Other than the White House, there wasn’t a more secure building in Washington tonight. I could feel the tension spreading everywhere in my body.
Once we were in place, Riordan put the center on a temporary “crash condition”—no one in or out until the First Gentleman was away. Next, traffic was routed away from the building. A lot of drivers were about to be seriously inconvenienced, but that was the least of our problems right now.
The First Gentleman was in all probability a murderer.
Less than a minute passed before Dan Cormorant stepped outside in his tux. He reported straight to Angela Riordan and ignored everyone else.
“Ma’am. We’re good to go inside.”
“All right. I want a nice, quiet exit on this, understood, Dan? Montana will come out this way, and we’ll proceed to the EEOB.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He caught me staring at him as he turned to go. I didn’t know how much Cormorant had already been told, but my presence spoke for itself. He’d have to know what this was about. Still, I couldn’t get a read on him, and he was already headed back in, radioing orders into his cuff.
“This is Cormorant. I need Montana detail ready to move, on my lead. Command, we’re going to need full transport from the North Plaza. Immediately.”
On instinct, I leaned over and spoke quietly to Agent Ridge.
“You should go in with him,” I said.
He didn’t look at me. “Thanks for the tip, Detective.”
“I’m serious,” I told him, but he put a hand out to keep me back, more like a straight-arm.
“Cross, someday you’re going to be king of the world, but in the meantime, just keep your damn shirt on.”
I was finding that hard to do. I didn’t like this scenario one bit—not if Theodore Vance really was our killer.
Chapter 111
SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Teddy could feel the tension coming off Cormorant before the Secret Service agent even spoke into his ear. “Excuse me, sir. Would you come with me, please? It’s kind of important.”
Maggie saw it too, and knew exactly how to respond. She smiled her best Big Party smile. “Don’t keep him long now, Dan, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Governor, hold that thought,” Teddy told his and Maggie’s guest. “I’ll be right back.”
Then, not knowing quite why, he leaned in and kissed his wife on the cheek. “I love you, darling,” he whispered, and she winked back.
Sweet Maggie. The world would probably never know how good this woman could be. Not that he really loved her, exactly, or could even tell himself what that was supposed to feel like. But it worked. They worked. However much about him she would never know, it couldn’t erase what was true between them. Sum of the parts and all that. Complicated, like all relationships.
He double-stepped to come alongside the agent as they moved across the foyer.
“What’s going on, Dan?”
“Sir, I need you to stay calm,” Cormorant said. “The FBI have a few questions for you. They’re waiting outside to follow us to the EEOB.”
Teddy stopped short. “Hang on a second. Are you trying—” He cocked his head to one side and smiled at a couple of passing gawkers. Then he turned his back to the room. “Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack here?”