But don’t shortchange yourself. I’ve got twenty years on you.
You know what instinct is? Seeing the same thing over and over again
until you start to get a feel for things. A little extra step.
You’re way ahead of where I was with just a half dozen years under my
belt.”
“I appreciate that, Lee.”
“But don’t misinterpret this little episode of venting. I don’t feel
sorry for myself and I’m sure as hell not looking for any pity from
anybody. I had choices and I made them. Just me. If my life’s screwed
up, it’s because I screwed it up, nobody else.”
Sawyer got up, walked over to the counter and exchanged a few words with
a skinny, wrinkled waitress. In a moment he was striding back, cupping
his hands together, a thin line of smoke floating up. He sat back down
and held up the cigarette. “For old times’ sake.” Slowly grinding out
the match in the ashtray, he sat back and took a long pull on the
cigarette, a barely audible chuckle escaping his lips.
“I go into this case, Ray, thinking that I had it pretty much nailed
from the get-go. Lieberman’s the target. We figure out how the plane
went down. We got a lot of motives, but not so many we can’t follow up,
sift through until we nail the sonofabitch responsible.
Shit, we get the actual bomber gift-wrapped and delivered to us, even if
he’s not breathing anymore. Things are looking pretty damn good. Then
the floor falls out from under us. We find out Jason Archer pulled off
this incredible heist and turns up in Seattle selling secrets instead of
being in a hole in the ground in Virginia. Is that his plan? Seems
pretty likely.
“Only the bomber turns out to be a guy who somehow slipped right through
the Virginia State Police’s computer system. I get hoodwinked into
going to New Orleans and something happens at Archer’s house that I’m
still in the dark about. Then, when you least expect it, Lieberman gets
thrown back into the picture chiefly because of Steven Page’s apparent
suicide five years ago that doesn’t seem to fit into the puzzle except
for the fact that his big brother, who can probably tell us a lot, gets
his throat handed to him in a parking lot. I talk to Charles Tiedman
and maybe, just maybe, Lieberman is being blackmailed. If true, how the
hell does that tie into Jason Archer? Do we have two unconnected cases
seemingly connected through a coincidence: namely, Lieberman gets on a
plane Archer has paid someone to blow up? Or is it all one case? If it
is, what the hell is the connection? Because if there is one, it sure
as hell has escaped yours truly.”
Sawyer shook his head in unconcealed frustration and took another drag
on his cigarette. He exhaled smoke up to the grimy ceiling and then put
his elbows on the table and looked over at Jackson.
“Now two other guys we figure are trying to rip off Triton Global check
into the hereafter. And the common denominator in a hell of a lot of it
is Sidney Archer.” Sawyer slowly rubbed a finger across his cheek.
“Sidney Archer …. I know ! respect the woman. But maybe my judgment
is getting a little clouded. You’re probably right to kick me in the
ass over it. But I’ll let you in on a little secret, friend.” Sawyer
tapped the end of his cigarette into the ashtray.
“What’s that?”
“Sidney Archer was in that limo. And whoever killed those three guys
let her walk. Her pistol ends up with the police.” Sawyer made an
imaginary gun with his left hand and pointed at various parts of it with
his cigarette as he continued to speak. “Smudged prints on the part she
would’ve held if she had fired it. Clear prints on the barrel only.
What do you make of that ?”
Jackson thought quickly. “We know she handled the gun.” The truth
suddenly dawned on him. “If somebody else fired it, and they were using
gloves, her prints would’ve been smudged on those areas but not the