in the face of death.
And he could think. And use his memory to try to catch some anomaly, some inconsistency that would point him in the right direction. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and listened to the rain falling.
But his thoughts were actually not on the case. He was not thinking about Walter Dabney, or Anne Berkshire, or anything along those lines.
Molly and Cassie.
Daughter and wife.
Dead nearly two years now. And as time passed it would be ten years, then twenty, then thirty, then…
He could imagine the passage of time. He could imagine the lessening of grief, of loss. But he could not imagine that lessening happening to him. All he had to do was reach back into his perfect memory and there it would all be, the discovery of the bodies, in their full hellish glory, with not a single impression or observation subtracted from the equation or diminished by the passage of time.
He opened his eyes and there she was.
“I don’t like being followed,” he said crossly.
Harper Brown sat down next to him.
“I’m not too keen on having to follow you.”
“So why do it?”
“Protecting assets, Decker. And DIA considers you a prime one.”
“I work for the FBI.”
“For now you do. But there’s always tomorrow.” Before he could respond she said, “What were you thinking about just now?”
“Nothing.”
She laughed lightly. “As if.”
“Why are you here?”
“I already said.”
“They could have sent a flunky to follow me. I see this as a waste of your time. You have bigger fish to fry.”
She took something out of her coat pocket. It was a piece of laminated paper. “I finished reading the Russian communication.”
“And?”
“And I might have found something.”
She handed him the laminated paper. “This is a translation.”
Decker read through it. “It says someone named Ahha Seryyzamok was presented with an award for services rendered.”
“Espionage services,” added Brown.
“So who is this Ahha Seryyzamok?”
“I think the answer lies in how the name translates to English.”
“How?”
“Ahha is Anna. She’d be called Anna in Russia too. Remember Anna Karenina? But the different alphabet, you know. I didn’t translate the name fully because I wanted to keep you in suspense.”
He glared at her. “I’m in enough suspense as it is.”
“Touché.”
“And Seryyzamok?”
“It means Greylock.”
“Okay, Anna I get, but how does Greylock help?”
“Greylock is a mountain in Massachusetts.”
“Still not getting the connection.”
“It’s the highest mountain…in the Berkshires.”
Decker stared down at the paper.
“Anne Berkshire.”
CHAPTER
41
BOGART SAID, “WE confirmed that the résumé Berkshire submitted to the school was concocted. The database at Virginia Tech was compromised and her background was placed there, her degrees and such. Very professionally done.”
“And the fingerprints used to do the background check?” asked Jamison. She and Decker sat next to Milligan at the WFO.
“Someone apparently created a database profile for Berkshire, complete with prints showing no criminal background. And her references looked legit but were also faked.”
“All that’s not easy to do,” said Milligan.
“It might be if you have a foreign government behind you,” said Bogart.
Milligan said, “Okay, based on what Brown found in that Russian communication, it seems that Berkshire was a Russian spy going way back. She came to this country perhaps in the eighties and started acting as a handler for some mole, maybe at DIA. Then she surfaced decades later, finally ending up in Reston with a multimillion-dollar condo and luxury car and being a substitute teacher and a hospice volunteer in her spare time.”
“And dying at the hands of Walter Dabney, who also recently stole secrets to pay off his son-in-law’s gambling debts,” finished Jamison.
Bogart said, “But do we really know that it was just recently?”
“What do you mean?” asked Milligan.
“What if Dabney was the mole way back when? Don’t forget he worked at the NSA before starting his own company. The stuff that was found in that storage unit didn’t say that Berkshire was a handler for a spy at DIA. Despite the DIA visitor’s badge the spying could have been at NSA. The timeline works because Dabney was there in the 1980s.”
“But we couldn’t establish any connection between Dabney and Berkshire,” pointed out Milligan.
“Well, if they were spies they would go to great pains to make sure there were no connections, or at least no obvious ones. And we’ve learned from Nancy Billings that Berkshire used the same phrase as Dabney did. ‘You think you know someone.’ That either shows a connection or it’s a hell of a coincidence.”
“And remember,” said Jamison, “back then I doubt Anne Berkshire was using that name. She and Dabney could have had a connection, but while she was using a different name. Her current name might have been suggested to her by what we saw in that document. Anna Seryyzamok became Anne Berkshire.”
Bogart sat back. “So how do we trace a connection between them from the 1980s if we have no idea what her name was back then?”
“We would just have to do it from visual evidence. Show her picture to the folks from back then and see if they recognize her.”
“People change a lot over the years,” noted Milligan. “I doubt we’ll be able to find anyone who recognizes her. And we don’t have a single picture of her from then.”
Bogart said, “We can have our technical people reverse the aging process and show what she might have looked like as a younger person.”
He paused and looked at Decker. “Amos, you’ve been unusually quiet. Do you have any thoughts on the matter?”
“Why would she stop spying?”
“What?” said Bogart.
Decker held up the translated KGB communication. “She kept this. She was obviously proud of it. Along with the floppy disk and the doll, tools of her spycraft. She was clearly proud of what she did. So why give it up? We’ve assumed that she had a change of heart when she started teaching and volunteering. So why keep the stuff that is clearly associated with her past life in espionage?”
Jamison said, “Are you suggesting that she might still have been a spy, right up until she was killed?”
“I’m saying it’s possible, because we haven’t definitively ruled it out. And we haven’t ruled out that Dabney hasn’t been spying all these years either.”
“Do you have any evidence that he has been?” asked Bogart.
Before Decker could answer, Jamison said, “How about the fact that he was able, in a short period of time, to sell secrets for ten million dollars to enemies of this country in order to pay off his son-in-law’s gambling debts? Now, if he was honest and aboveboard, where did he find a buyer for that much money so quickly? One answer is he could have easily if he’d been spying all along and had knowledge of people willing to pay for secrets.”