Shall We Tell the President? (4 page)

Both men withdrew their FBI credentials
from their right inside coat pockets, and displayed them to
Casefikis
while holding the credentials in their left hands. Even such a seemingly
insignificant manoeuvre was carefully taught to all new FBI agents so that
their ‘strong hand’ would be free to withdraw and fire when necessary.

Casefikis
studied their credentials with a puzzled frown, pressing his tongue
over his lips, obviously not knowing what to look for. The agent’s signature
must pass partly over the seal of the Department of Justice to insure
authenticity. He looked at Mark’s card number, 3302, and his badge number,
1721. He didn’t speak, as if wondering where to start, or perhaps whether to
change his mind and say nothing at all. He stared at Mark, clearly the more
sympathetic, and began his tale.

‘I never been in any trouble with police
before,’ he said. ‘Not with any of police.’

Neither agent smiled or spoke.

‘But I in big mess now and, by God, I need
help.’

Calvert stepped in. ‘Why do you need our help?’

‘I am illegal immigrant and so is wife. We
both Greek nationals, we came in
Baltimore
on ship and we been working here two years. We’ve nothing to go back to.’ It
came out in spurts and dashes. ‘I have information to trade if we not
deported.’

‘We can’t make that sort—’ began Mark.

Barry touched Mark’s arm. ‘If it’s
important and you are able to help us solve a crime, we will speak to the
Immigration authorities. We can promise no more than that.’

Mark mused; with six million illegal
immigrants in the
United
States
, another couple was not going to sink
the boat.

Casefikis
looked desperate. ‘I needed job, I needed money, you understand?’

Both men understood. They faced the same
problem a dozen times a week behind a dozen different faces.

‘When I offered this job as waiter in
restaurant, my wife very pleased. On second week I was given special job to
serve lunch in a hotel room for big man. The only trouble that the man wanted
waiter who not speak English. My English very bad so
bossman
tell me I could go, keep my mouth shut, speak only Greek. For twenty dollars I
say yes. We go in back of van to hotel — I think in
Georgetown
. When we arrive I sent to kitchen,
join staff in basement. I dress and start taking food to private dining-room.
There five—six men and I heard big man say I no speak English. So they talk on.
I don’t listen. Very last cup of coffee, when start talking about President
Kane, I like Kane, I listen. I heard say, “We have to blow her away.” Another
man say: “The best day would still be 10 March, the way we planned it.” And
then I heard: “I agree with Senator, let’s get rid of the bitch.” Someone was
staring at me, so I left room. When I downstairs washing up, one man came in
and shouted, “Hey, you, catch this.” I looked around, put arms up. All at once
he start come for me. I run for door and down street. He shoot gun at me, I
feel bit pain in leg but I able to get away because he older, big and slower
than me. I hear him shout but I knew he couldn’t catch me. I scared. I get home
pretty damn quick, and wife and I move out that night and hide out of town with
friend from
Greece
.
Hoped all would be okay, but my leg got bad after few days so
Ariana
made me come to hospital and call for you because my
friend tell they come around to my place look for me because if they find me
they kill me.’ He stopped, breathed deeply, his unshaven face covered in sweat,
and looked at the two men imploringly.

‘What’s your full name?’ said Calvert,
sounding about as excited as he would if he were issuing a traffic ticket.

‘Angelo
Mexis
Casefikis
.’

Calvert made him spell it in full. ‘Where
do you live?’

‘Now at
Blue Ridge
Manor Apartments,
1501 Elkin
Street
,
Wheaton
.
Home of my friend, good man, please don’t give trouble.’

‘When did this incident take place?’

‘Last Thursday,’
Casefikis
said instantly.

Calvert checked the date. ‘24 February?’

The Greek shrugged. ‘Last Thursday,’ he
repeated.

‘Where is the restaurant you were working
in?’

‘A few streets from me. It called Golden
Duck.’

Calvert continued taking notes. ‘And where
was this hotel you were taken to?’

‘Don’t know, in
Georgetown
. Maybe could take you there when
out of hospital.’

‘Now, Mr
Casefikis
,
please be careful about this. Was there anyone else working at this luncheon
who might have overheard the conversation in that room?’

‘No, sir; I only waiter attend in room.’

‘Have you told anyone what you overheard?
Your wife? The friend whose house you’re staying at? Anyone?’

‘No, sir. Only you. No tell wife what I
hear. No tell no one, too scared.’

Calvert continued to interview, asking for
descriptions of the other men in the room and making the Greek
repeat
everything to see if the story remained the same. It did. Mark looked on
silently.

‘Okay, Mr
Casefikis
,
that’s all we can do for this evening. We’ll return in the morning and have you
sign a written statement.’

‘But they going to kill me. They going to
kill me.’

‘No need to worry, Mr
Casefikis
.
We’ll put a police guard on your room as soon as possible; no one is going to
kill you.’

Casefikis
dropped his eyes, not reassured.

‘We’ll see you again in the morning,’ said
Calvert, closing
his notebook. ‘You just get some rest. Good night, Mr
Casefikis
.’

Calvert glanced back at a happy Benjamin,
still deeply absorbed in
$25,000 Pyramid
with no words, just money. He
waved again at them and smiled, showing all three of his teeth, two black and
one gold. Calvert and Andrews returned to the corridor.

‘I don’t believe a word of it,’ Barry said
immediately. ‘With his English, he could easily have got hold of the wrong end
of the stick. It was probably quite innocent People curse the President all the
time. My father does, but that doesn’t mean he would kill her.’

‘Maybe, but what about that gunshot wound?
That’s for real,’ said Mark.

‘I know. I guess that’s the one thing that
worries me,’ Barry said. ‘It could just be a cover for something completely
different. I think I’ll speak to the boss to be on the safe side.’

Calvert headed for the pay phone by the
side of the elevator and took out two quarters. All agents carry a pocketful of
quarters; there are no special telephone privileges for members of the Bureau.

‘Well, was he hoping to rob
Fort
Knox
?’
Elizabeth Dexter’s voice startled Mark, although he had half expected her to
return. She was obviously on her way home: the white coat had been replaced by
a red jacket.

‘Not exactly,’ replied Mark. ‘We’ll have to
come around tomorrow morning to tidy things up; probably get him to sign a
written statement and take his fingerprints, then we’ll pick up the gold.’

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Dr Delgado will be on
duty tomorrow.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘You’ll like her, too.’

‘Is this hospital entirely staffed by
beautiful lady doctors?’ said Mark. ‘How does one get to stay the night?’

‘Well,’ she said, ‘the flu is the
fashionable disease this month. Even President Kane has had it.’

Calvert looked around sharply at the
mention of the President’s name. Elizabeth Dexter glanced at her watch.

‘I’ve just completed two hours’ unpaid
overtime,’ she
said. ‘If you
don’t have any more questions, Mr Andrews, I ought to get home now.’ She smiled
and turned to go, her heels tapping sharply against the tiled floor.

‘Just one more question, Dr Dexter,’ said
Mark, following her around the corner beyond the range of Barry
calvert’s
disapproving eyes and ears. ‘What would you say
to having dinner with me later tonight?’

‘What would I say?’ she said teasingly.
‘Let me see, I think I’d accept gracefully and not too eagerly. It might be
interesting to find out what G-men are really like.’

‘We bite,’ said Mark. They smiled at each
other. ‘Okay, it’s 7:15 now. If you’re willing to take a chance on it, I could
probably pick you up by 8:30.’

Elizabeth jotted her address and phone
number on a page of his diary.

‘So you’re a left-hander, are you, Liz?’

The dark eyes flashed momentarily up to
meet his. ‘Only my lovers call me Liz,’ she said, and was gone.

‘It’s Calvert, boss. I can’t make my mind
up about this one. I don’t know if he’s a jerk or for real so I’d like to run
it past you.’

‘Fine, Barry. Shoot.’

‘Well, it could be serious, or just a hoax.
He may even be nothing more than a small-time thief trying to get off the hook
for something bigger. But I can’t be sure. And if every word he said turned out
to be true, I figured you ought to know immediately.’ Barry relayed the salient
parts of the interview without mentioning the Senator, stressing that there was
an added factor he did not want to discuss over the phone.

‘What are you trying to do, get me in the
divorce courts - I suppose I’ll have to come back to the office,’ said Nick
Stames
, avoiding his wife’s expression of annoyance. ‘Okay,
okay. Thank God I got to eat at least some of the
moussaka
.
I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Barry.’

‘Right, boss.’

Calvert depressed the telephone cradle with
his hand momentarily and then dialled the Metropolitan Police. Two more
quarters, leaving sixteen in his pockets. He often thought the quickest way to
check out an FBI agent would be to make him turn his pockets inside out; if he
produced twenty quarters, he was a genuine member of the Bureau.

‘Lieutenant Blake is on the front desk.
I’ll put you right through.’

‘Lieutenant Blake.’

‘Special Agent Calvert. We’ve seen your
Greek and we’d like you to put a guard on his room. He’s scared
to hell
about something so we don’t want to take any chances.’

‘He’s not my Greek, damn it,’ said Blake.
‘Can’t you use one of your own fancy guys?’

‘There’s no one we can spare at the moment,
lieutenant.’

‘I’m not exactly overstaffed myself, for
God’s sake. What do you think we’re running, the Shoreham Hotel? Oh hell, I’ll
do what I can. But they won’t be able
to get there for a couple of
hours.’

‘Fine. Thanks for your help, Lieutenant.
I’ll brief my office.’ Barry replaced the receiver.

Mark Andrews and Barry Calvert waited for
the elevator,
which was just as slow and reluctant to take
t
hem
down as it had been to take them up. Neither of them spoke until they were
inside the dark blue Ford.

‘
Stames
is coming
back to hear the story,’ said Calvert. ‘I can’t imagine he’ll want to take it
any further, but we’d better keep him informed. Then maybe we can call it a
day.’

Mark glanced at his watch; another hour and
forty-five minutes’ overtime, technically the maximum allowed an agent on any
one day.

‘I hope so,’ said Mark. ‘I just got myself
a date.’

‘Anyone we know?’

‘The beautiful Dr Dexter.’

Barry raised his eyebrows. ‘Don’t let the
boss know. If he thought you picked up someone while you were on duty, he’d
send you for a spell in the salt mines in
Butte
,
Montana
.’

‘I didn’t realise that they had salt mines
in
Butte
,
Montana
.’

‘Only FBI agents who really screw it up
know there are salt mines in
Butte
.’

Mark drove back to downtown
Washington
while Barry
wrote up his report of the interview. It was 7:40 by the time they had returned
to the Old Post Office Building, and Mark found the parking lot almost empty.
By this time at night most civilised people were at home doing civilised
things, like eating
moussaka
.
Stames’s
car was already there. Goddamn him. They took the elevator to the fifth floor
and went into
Stames’s
reception room. It looked
empty without Julie. Calvert knocked quietly on the chief’s door and the two
agents walked in.
Stames
looked up. He had already
found a hundred and one things to do since he’d been back, almost as if he had
forgotten that he had specifically come back to see them.

‘Right, Barry. Let’s have it from the top,
slowly and accurately.’