I wondered what Wesley and Mark had discussed in my absence. Wondered what Wesley had said to Mark about me.
“He’s aware of them,” Wesley answered.
“Then I’ll ask both of you,” I said.
“Did the Bureau set up Pat Harvey? Or was it the CIA?”
Wesley did not move or change the expression on his face. “What leads you to suppose she’s been set up?”
“Obviously, the Bureau’s disinformation tactics went beyond luring the killer. It was someone’s intention to destroy Pat Harvey’s credibility, and the press has done this quite successfully.”
“Even the President doesn’t have that much influence over the media. Not in this country.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Benton,” I said.
“What she did was anticipated. Let’s put it that way.”
Wesley recrossed his legs and reached for his drink.
“And you laid the trap,” I said.
“No one spoke for her at her press conference.”
“It doesn’t matter because no one needed to. Someone made sure her accusations would come across in print as the ravings of a lunatic. Who primed the reporters, the politicians, her former allies, Benton? Who leaked that she consulted a psychic? Was it you?”
“No.”
“Pat Harvey saw Hilda Ozimek last September,” I went on. “It never made the news until now, meaning the press didn’t know about it until now. That’s pretty low, Benton. You told me yourself that the FBI and Secret Service have resorted to Hilda Ozimek on a number of occasions. That’s probably how Mrs. Harvey found out about her, for God’s sake.”
Connie returned with my coffee, then left again as quickly as she had appeared.
I could feel Mark’s eyes on me, the tension. Wesley continued staring into the fire.
“I think I know the truth.”
I made no effort to disguise, my outrage. “I intend to have it out in the open now. And if you can’t accommodate me this way, then I don’t think it will be possible for me to continue accomodating you.”
“What are you implying, Kay?”
Wesley looked over at me.
“If it happens again, if another couple dies, I can guarantee that reporters won’t find out what’s reap going on – ”
“Kay.”
It was Mark who interrupted, and I refused l look at him. I was doing my best to block him out. “You don’t want to trip up like Mrs. Harvey.”
“She didn’t exactly trip up on her own,” I said. “I think she’s right. Something is being covered up.”
“You sent her your reports, I presume,” Wesley said “I did. I will no longer play a part in this manipulation.”
“That was a mistake.”
“My mistake was not sending them to her earlier.”
“Do the reports include information about the bull you recovered from Deborah’s body? Specifically, that was nine-millimeter Hydra-Shok?”
“The caliber and brand would be in the firearms report,” I said. “I don’t send out copies of firearms reports any more than I send out copies of poll reports, neither of which are generated by my office. But I’m interested in why you’re so concerned over that detail.”
When Wesley did not reply, Mark intervened “Benton, we need to smooth this out.”
Wesley remained silent.
“I think she needs to know,” Mark added.
“I think I already know,” I said. “I think the FBI has reason to fear the killer is a federal agent gone bad. Quite possibly, someone from Camp Peary.”
Wind moaned around the eaves, and Wesley got up to tend to the fire. He put on another log, rearranged it with the poker, and swept ashes off the hearth, taking his time. When he was seated again, he reached for his drink and said, “How did you come to this conclusion?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said.
“Did someone say this to you directly?”
“No. Not directly.”
I got out my cigarettes. “How long has this been your suspicion, Benton?”
Hesitating, he replied, “I believe you are better off not knowing the details. I really do. It’s only going to be a burden. A very heavy one.”
“I’m already carrying a very heavy burden. And I’m tired of stumbling over disinformation.”
“I need your assurance nothing discussed leaves here.”
“You know me too well to worry about that.”