The Third Coincidence (34 page)

“All the Federal Reserve governors, including the one confirmed this morning, are in their respective districts,” Rachel called out. “None in D.C.”

“Justice Budson is in New York,” Colin added. “Sanders is visit- ing his mother in Orlando. Huckaby’s in Chicago. The two new jus- tices left town before the president announced their confirmations. None of the nominees are local.”

“Agent Cawley, hold a moment.” Nora said, while her face lost its color. “Chief Justice Evans is about to leave the Court for a two forty-five dental appointment a few blocks from the courthouse. He plans to walk. Here’s the info on the dentist.” She handed Jack her scratchpad.

Jack knew they had to move fast if they were to save the life of the chief justice of the United States. He grabbed Nora’s phone.

“Agent Cawley, this is Jack McCall. I’m going to speak up so that you can hear what I’m saying to my squad: Listen up! Here’s how we

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play it. Agent Cawley, the chief justice is not to leave his office. Lock him in his closet if necessary. Keep three agents with him at all times. Get an agent made up to look as much like the chief justice as possible in the time available. The height must be very close. In war we’ve used stand-ins for generals. The Secret Service body shields the president. We need an agent with that mind-set. Get him in body armor. The stand-in must volunteer. If no one does, get back to me fast.”

He raised the phone to his ear. “Agent Cawley, you still with me?” After she said yes, Jack continued, “Have the stand-in walk to the dental appointment. Send agents with him on foot and a tail car trailing, the same as you had planned to do with the real chief jus- tice. No different. This guy knows FBI procedures. Put everyone in body armor. Walk a bit slower than usual. Miss a few traffic lights. We need to pick up extra minutes. Dalton’s ready. We’re not. Get the stand-in to the dentist’s building three to five minutes late. No later. We don’t want Dalton getting suspicious. Do not report or dis- cuss this activity outside your detail. Keep your focus on carrying out my orders.”

After making sure that Agent Cawley had understood his in- structions, Jack dialed Rex’s number as fast as he could.

“Rex, Dalton’s after the chief justice who has a dental appoint- ment at two forty-five. The dentist is only a few blocks from the Court, within walking distance of the Hyatt. As soon as I hang up, we’re on our way. Get your guys moving on foot. It looks like an- other sniper shot. Evans’s dentist is Dr. Jonathan Eberhard. Agent Cawley will have some of her agents walk a stand-in to the dental ap- pointment. Eberhard’s office is on the third floor on S—”

“Sixth, just north of F Street. Eberhard’s my dentist.”

“Okay. Great. I’ll call again when we’re on the road. Stay as in- conspicuous as possible, but get a feel for the dentist’s building and the nearby area. We don’t have much time for preparation. You’ll need to wing it some.”

“I got this end, Jack.”

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“Rex! Get an agent in the dentist’s office. Dalton will expect the chief justice to have an FBI escort, so I doubt he’ll be inside. He’ll be watching though, so—”

“The building lobby has a rear exit to the alley.”

“Good. That ought to work. We don’t need patients running out of the building. After you confirm Dalton is not in the dentist’s of- fice, keep it under surveillance. Distribute copies of Dalton’s pic- ture to your agents and Cawley’s.”

“I’ve got copies of the pictures and the parking attendant’s de- scription for everyone,” Rex said. “Get your mind off us, Jack, and get your ass down here.”

Jack hung up and said, “I wish we had more time to plan.”

“A good plan today,” Frank said, “is better than a perfect plan to- morrow.”

Rachel called across the street to the observation post. “Agent Mar- tin, we’re out of here. There’s no time to explain. Count to thirty and have several of your people run out the front door. Hopefully that’ll distract any neighbors looking our way. If Dalton comes back, let him get inside. Then surround the house and call us. Don’t re- peat this message to anyone outside your squad at that house.”

“I don’t know about that last part, Agent Johnstone,” Martin said. “I was told to report potentials for action to my section leader.”

“We don’t have time for this, Agent Martin,” Rachel snapped. “Do exactly what I’ve told you or you’ll wake up in charge of a new field office in Iceland, with no heat and your balls frozen to the chair.”

While Rachel had been talking with Agent Martin, Jack had made a call.

“I’ve got a priority call, Agent Johnstone, please hold.” A mo- ment passed before Agent Martin was back on the line. “Director Hampton has just ordered me to do exactly as you have instructed. I am also to inform you that a supervisory agent is being dispatched to replace me and that he will answer to a different section leader.”

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“Fuck you, Agent Martin.” Rachel said after hanging up. Then she turned to Jack. “Now let’s get out of here.”

Jack had been standing at the chessboard in Dalton’s secret room. At first glance the configuration of the pieces had looked fa- miliar, but they were more than just familiar. This board was an exact duplicate of the chessboard in his own home. His opponent had been Isaac Dalton, playing as Harry, Isaac’s father’s name.

Jack moved the black bishop to f–5, his fourth move, the one not yet posted, then he tipped over the white king, grinned and said, “Checkmate, Isaac Dalton.” But Jack knew the real game wasn’t over and wouldn’t be until they had Isaac Dalton in custody. Hopefully, before anyone else died.

CHAPTER 52

The FBI receives numerous LW leads. We’re looking into each and every one.

—Fred Hampton, FBI Director

june 21, 2:03 p.m.

A soft breeze stirred Dalton’s hair as he casually strolled through the National Mall leaving red baseball caps on several benches. If he was right, those hats would soon be on the heads of other people. If not, no problem, for by the time he entered the Mall any pursuers would be looking for a man wearing a red cap. They would find ei- ther several or none.

2:10

“Mr. McCall. Agent Beth Cawley. The chief justice is safe in his of- fice. Three men are with him. Special Agent Ira Bullock is standing in for Evans. He’s wearing body armor, but we both know that won’t help if Dalton uses a head shot like he did to kill Capone in Dallas, so let’s get this bastard before he fires. We’re about to leave for the dentist. As you ordered, we’ll arrive a few minutes late.”

2:19

Dalton walked out of a Starbucks in the three-hundred block on Seventh Street, NW carrying a venti, nonfat, no-whip mocha, busily playing the role of a rubbernecking tourist.

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2:38

Dalton sat atop one of the cement pylons along the F Street side- walk adjacent to the Oriental Building Association building. He wrestled with his impatience for a full minute before taking the final gulp of his mocha. Then he casually stepped over the pylon and en- tered the empty lot that filled the area on the west and south sides of the OBA.

He crushed the cup in his hand and jammed it into his back pocket. After looking both ways and seeing no one, he ducked inside the air duct and scurried up the rope ladder onto the OBA’s fifth- floor rooftop. A strong wind was blowing across the top of the build- ing. He tugged the red cap tight on his head and stayed low, crossing to the northeast corner where he took off his backpack and leaned it against the equipment shed. A moment later, he looked over the edge while staying back far enough to prevent anyone from seeing him who might look up from the street.

2:45

There he was. Evans. His appointment is at two forty-five and he’s not yet in the building. There’s three, no four agents with him. He also expected a tail car, and spotted it when the car pulled to the curb near the Metro Transit building.

Mr. Chief Justice, you’ll never again make anyone wait.

2:50 p.m.

“McCall, Agent Cawley here. When Dr. Eberhard didn’t see Chief Justice Evans we had to brief him. Eberhard will stay with Agent Bullock for the time appropriate to the scheduled treatment. Then we’ll leave. Give us three minutes to get to the street. We should be exiting the building about three thirty. Special Agent Rex Smith is with me. He wants to talk to you.”

“Jack, what’s your ETA?” “Frank tells me three fifteen.”

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“Have him drive to Seventh and Pennsylvania Avenue. I’ll meet you there.”

Frank floored the accelerator, throwing Jack hard against the back of his seat, and pulled onto the right shoulder to get past side- by-side cars clogging the lanes.

Rex slapped his cell phone closed and turned to face Agent Cawley. “Call me before you leave the dentist’s office to be sure we’re set.”

He went down the elevator into the lobby and out the rear door to the alley behind the dentist’s building where several more agents awaited his orders.

“The stand-in for Chief Justice Evans should be coming out at three thirty, give or take a few minutes,” he told them. “Cawley’s de- tail will take the lead if Dalton goes after Evans up close. I want two of you at the first corner in each direction from this building. That’s E and Sixth to the south, and half a block to the north at G Street. Curtis, Bradley, get on top of the OBA building at Sixth and F. We didn’t have time to get you up there before Evans arrived, but I want you there to cover his return. The OBA’s boarded up and it’s too old to have an elevator. There should be a fire escape on the back side. Break in if you have to and use the inside stairs. And you four,” he ordered, pointing at the remaining agents who had not yet received their assignments, “two each at Seventh and E and F.”

If they were going to stop Dalton without another murder, today had to be the day and Rex was right where he wanted to be, in the middle of it all. He wondered what he was missing. As the last of his agents neared the end of the alley, it hit him.

“Stop!” he hollered. “Don’t all of you go out the same end of the alley, a few out each end, and when you get to the sidewalk turn away from Sixth and circle around. Move casually. We’ve got time before Cawley brings the stand-in out of the building. Agent Curtis, you and Bradley need time to set up on the OBA so go back through the lobby out onto Sixth. Draw some attention to yourselves as you go. Agents wouldn’t do that, so don’t act like agents. You’re heading

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back to your office, carrying your attaché cases in plain sight. Kid around a little. Take off your tie, Agent Curtis. Bradley, hang your purse back over your shoulder. Let it dangle from your fingers. Clown around some. Giggle. Then get on top of that building. Oh, and before any of you leave, if nothing happens, Agent Cawley will escort the stand-in all the way back to the courthouse. In that event everybody moves with them, keeping your spacing.

“Now go. Go! Now!”

With his squad dispersed, Rex headed toward Pennsylvania and Seventh to meet Jack and his team. On the way he called Special Agent Crenshaw.

“Crenshaw, are your agents spread out in the Mall south of Con- stitution Avenue from Fourteenth to First Streets?”

“We’re set.”

“If the suspect gets in the Mall,” Rex said, “I’m guessing he’ll exit near the Taft Memorial and then work his way back to the Hyatt for his car. Keep an agent near any motorcycles in the area. Get a couple of agents on the tourist trolley the next time it stops at Con- stitution and Twelfth. Don’t worry about Dalton’s Explorer. There are agents in the Hyatt’s underground parking.”

“I’ve already got two agents on the trolley,” Agent Crenshaw replied. “They have orders to stay put unless in hot pursuit.”

Rex picked up his pace as he talked his way across the intersec- tion of Seventh and D Street. “Crenshaw, your guys are dressed ca- sually. If pursuit begins, get your FBI hats on. We don’t want our squads shooting one another.”

“Gee, Mom, I didn’t know you cared.”

Rex looked at his phone, grinned, and jammed it in his pocket.

They were set for action. As set as they could be. He would soon know if it would be enough.