The prodigal spy

He stood, saying nothing, only vaguely aware of the traffic sounds, as if someone had sliced him with a knife and he had to hold his insides close so they wouldn’t slip out.

Then it worked, he’d held himself in and was able to breathe again.

“Well, now he’s dead. Somebody else didn’t want him around either.”

“That’s unfair. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.”

“Then why say it? To make me feel worse? You don’t have to. I can do that myself.” She shook her head. “Oh, what’s the use? You’re too hurt to see anything. But what happened with Jeff-it didn’t matter to me, Nick. It didn’t matter.”

“But it did matter. My father’s dead, because someone knew.”

“Because I told Jeff? But how could it? Do you think I’ve thought about anything else for two days? What if I did it? Me. Killed him just by- But how? Jeff didn’t kill him. He may be a shit, but he didn’t do that.”

“But who else knew? Me. You. Foster. Unless he told somebody. Did he?”

“I don’t know.”

He hesitated. “But you could find out.”

“How?”

“Use your wiles. They worked on me.”

“Don’t.”

“It’s not much to ask, considering.”

“Nick-”

“Not for me. Do it for my father. He’s entitled to one favor.”

She looked down. For a moment there was nothing, just the sound of a truck going by. “Do what?”

“Go see Foster. Tell him I still don’t suspect anything. And you’d like to keep it that way. Just between you and old Jeff. Has he talked to anyone else? In the embassy. Or even back home. Find out if he signaled the Bureau about this, if anyone in Washington has any idea.”

“Why Washington?”

“And when. If he said anything before.”

“Nick, what’s the point? What does this have to do with anything? The Bureau didn’t kill him.”

“Maybe my father wasn’t as careful as he thought. Maybe his friends already knew. But maybe he was careful. Maybe he got tripped up because somebody wanted a new job and thought he was the ticket. I just want to find out who knew. It’s important. Maybe it stops with Foster. At least we eliminate possibilities.”

Molly stared up at him. “If it stops with him,” she said slowly, “that leaves me. Do you think I did it?”

“No.”

“Really. Why not me? Why not Anna? It’s usually the wife, isn’t it? Why not the Bureau, who didn’t even know where he was. Except in some old file nobody cares about anymore. Who else? Do you see what this is doing to you? It’s crazy.”

Nick nodded. “But he’s dead. And whoever killed him knew he was going to leave. It’s the only way it makes sense.”

“Well, it doesn’t make sense to me. Why not just lock him up? They lock up everyone else. What made him so special?”

“I don’t know.”

She raised her head, scanning his face. “You do, though. That’s it. That’s why you’re so sure he was killed. Why you’re worried. Signing things. I thought it was just an idea he had, but you didn’t. You knew he could do it. You even bought him a ticket. There’s something else. That’s why you want to know who Jeff told.” She glanced up, her eyes narrowing. “In Washington. That’s what you want to know. Who in Washington.” Nick said nothing, still not looking at her. “Leaving was only part of it. There’s always been something else. That you wouldn’t tell me.”

He turned back to her. “Well, that makes two of us.”

He saw the flush rise in her face, a kind of blood wince. She lowered her eyes. “Not anymore. Now there’s just you.”

“I can’t.”

“You mean you don’t trust me.”

“I mean I can’t. It’s not safe.”

She shook her head. “You think I’m going to tell Jeff. You still think that.”

“They killed him, Molly. It doesn’t matter whether I trust you or not. It’s not safe.”

“But why?”

He hesitated, then said, “Just ask him who knew.”

“I’m surprised you trust me to do that. What is it, a kind of test?”

“It’s important.”

“Then ask him yourself. I’m tired of playing Mata Hari. First him, now you. If I don’t know what you’re doing, I don’t want any part of it.”

“You are a part of it. That’s the other thing. Find out if he told them about you, if anyone in Washington knows about you.”

“Me?”

“Let’s hope he took all the credit. He looks the type. Old matchmaker Jeff.”

“What would he tell them?”

“That you arranged it. That you’ve been sleeping with me.”

“So what?”

“Somebody might get the idea that I confided in you. That you know why too.” He stopped, letting it sink in. “Ask him. And tell him we both think it’s suicide. Can you make him believe that?”

She nodded slowly, her eyes wide. Then she reached out and touched his arm lightly, tentative. “We have to talk about things.”

“There isn’t time now.” An echo, somewhere in the back of his head. There isn’t time.

“I never meant-” She looked up, a new thought. “Nick, whatever it is-what he told you. Do they know?”

“Not yet. Nobody does. Not even you. Do you understand?”

“But it’s true? You’re sure?”

“It has to be. He’s dead.”