“You’d be surprised, Seth.”
“Maybe I would!” Frank shot back.
Miller looked puzzled. “Why do you have such a bug up your ass about
this?”
Frank didn’t look at his friend. He stared over at the desk.
“I don’t know. Like I said, I got to know the guy. He didn’t seem like
the type. So his prints were on the weapon?”
“Two perfect hits. Right thumb and index. Never seen clearer ones.”
Something in his friend’s words jolted Frank. He was looking at the
desk. The highly polished surface had been defaced. The small water ring
was clearly visible.
“So where’s the glass?”
“What’s that?”
Frank pointed to the mark. “The glass that left that mark.
Have you got it?”
Miller shrugged and then chuckled. “I haven’t checked the dishwasher in
the kitchen, if that’s what you’re asking. Be my guest.”
Miller turned to sign off on a report. Frank took the opportunity to
check out the desk more closely. In the middle of the desk was a slight
dust ring. Something had been there.
Square in shape, about three inches across. The paperweight.
Frank smiled.
A few minutes later Seth Frank walked down the hallway.
The gun had perfect prints on it. Too perfect more like it.
Frank had also seen the weapon and the police report on it. A
.44 caliber, serial numbers obliterated, untraceable. Just like the
weapon found next to Walter Sullivan.
Frank had to allow himself a smile. He had been right in what he had
done, or more accurately, what he had not done.
Jack Graham had been telling the truth. He hadn’t killed anybody.
“You KNOW, BURTON, I’M BECOMING A LITTLE TIRED OF HAving to devote so
much time and attention to this matter. I do have a country to run in
case you’ve forgotten.” Richmond sat in a chair in the Oval Office in
front of a blazing fire. His eyes were closed; his fingers formed a
tight pyramid.
Before Burton could respond, the President continued.
“Instead of having the object back safely in our possession, you have
managed only to contribute two more entries to the city’s homicide
fiasco, and Whitney’s defense attorney is out there somewhere with
possibly the evidence to bury us all.
I’m absolutely thrilled with the result.”
“Graham’s not going to. the police, not unless he’s real fond of prison
food and wants a big, hairy man as his date for life.” Burton stared
down at the motionless President.
The shit he, Burton, had gone through to save all their asses while this
prize stayed safely behind the lines. And now he was criticizing. Like
the veteran Secret Service agent had really enjoyed seeing two more
innocent people die.
“I do congratulate you on that part. It showed quick thinking. However,
I don’t believe we can rely on that as a long term solution. If the
police do take Graham into custody he’ll certainly produce the letter
opener, if he has it.”
“But I bought us some time.”
The President stood up, grabbed Burton’s thick shoulders.
“And in that time I know you will locate Jack Graham and persuade him
that taking any action detrimental to our interests would not be in his
best interests.”
Do you want me to tell him that before or after I put a bullet in his
brain?”
The President smiled grimly. “I’ll leave that to your professional
judgment.” He turned to his desk.
Burton stared at the President’s back. For one instant Burton visualized
pumping a round from his weapon into the base of the President’s neck.
Just end the bullshit right here and now. If anyone ever deserved it
this guy did.
“Any idea where he might be, Burton?”
Burton shook his head. “No, but I’ve got a pretty reliable source.”
Burton didn’t mention Jack’s phone call to Seth Frank that morning.
Sooner or later Jack would reveal his location to the detective. And
then Burton would make his move.
Burton took a deep breath. If you loved a pressure-filled challenge it
didn’t get much better than this. It was the ninth running, the home
team was up by one, there were two outs, one runner on, and a full count