six-foot-three Sawyer in height, but carried at least a hundred more
pounds on his frame than did the powerfully built FBI agent.
Sawyer took the leather chair indicated by Burns. When Burns sat back
down, Sawyer noted that he moved with a grace that was not uncommon to
large men.
“I appreciate your seeing me, sir.”
Burns shot the FBI man a penetrating glance. “I take it that your
agency’s involvement in this matter means it was not merely a mechanical
or other similar problem that befell that plane?”
“We’re checking through all possible scenarios. Nothing has been ruled
out right now, Mr. Burns.” Sawyer’s features were impassive.
“My name is Walter, Agent Sawyer. Since we’re both members of the
sometimes unwieldy system known as the federal government, I think that
allows us the pleasure of a first-name basis.”
Sawyer grinned. “Mine’s Lee.”
“How can I help you, Lee?”
The clatter of freezing rain assaulted the window and a chill seemed
suddenly to pervade the air. Burns rose and walked over to the
fireplace, beckoning Sawyer to pull his chair over. While Burns placed
some small pieces of kindling taken from a brass bucket onto the fire,
Sawyer flipped open his notebook and briefly studied some notes. When
Burns sat down across from him, Sawyer was ready.
“I realize that a lot of people have no idea what the Fed does. I mean
people outside the financial markets.”
Burns rubbed at one eye and Sawyer almost heard a chuckle escape the
other man’s lips. “If I were a betting man, I would be inclined to lay
money on the fact that fully half the population of this country have no
idea of the existence of the Federal Reserve System, and that nine out
of ten have no clue as to what our actual purpose is. I must confess I
find that anonymity enormously comforting.”
Sawyer paused and then leaned toward the older man. “Who would benefit
from Arthur Lieberman’s death? I don’t mean personally, I’m focusing on
his professional side. As chairman of the Fed.”
Burns’s eyes widened until the slits reached the shape of half-moons,
about the limits of their range. “You’re implying that someone blew up
that plane in order to kill Arthur? If you don’t mind my saying so,
that seems awfully far-fetched.”
“I didn’t say that was the case. That is, we’re looking at everything
right now.” Sawyer spoke in low tones, as though he feared he would be
overheard. “The fact is I’ve combed through the passenger manifest and
your colleague was the only VIP aboard. If it was a deliberate
sabotage, then one reason that jumps out would be killing the Fed
chairman.”
“Or just a planned terrorist attack and Arthur simply had the misfortune
to be on board.”
Sawyer shook his head. “If we are looking at sabotage, then I don’t
believe Lieberman being on the plane was a coincidence.”
Burns leaned back in his chair and slowly put his feet out toward the
fire. “My God!” he finally said as he stared into the fire. Although
he would have looked quite at home in a three-piece suit replete with
watch chain, his current attire–camel-hair sport coat, dark blue crew
sweater with a white button-down shirt collar peeking out, gray pleated
slacks and comfortable black loafers–did not look so out of place on
his frame. Sawyer noted that the man’s feet were surprisingly small for
his size. Neither man spoke for at least a minute.
Sawyer finally stirred. “I know I don’t have to tell you that anything
I say to you tonight is extremely confidential.”
Burns’s head swiveled around to the FBI agent. “Secrets are something I
am quite good at keeping, Lee.”
“So getting back to my question: Who benefits?”
Burns considered the query for some moments and then took a deep breath.
“The United States economy is the largest in the world.
Hence, as America goes, so goes the world. If another country hostile
to America desired to damage our economy or disrupt the world financial
markets, perpetrating an atrocity such as this could well have that
effect. I have no doubt that the markets will take a staggering blow if