Chapter 5 An Implausible Theory
Verheek had drunk too much the night before with Callahan, as
he had known he would. What had he said? Had he given away
any secrets? He remembered explaining that the connection between
Rosenberg and Jensen was not political. The connection
was so obvious that for several days no one in the FBI had seen it.
They were killed because the killer could get to them. It was as
simple as that. They weren't guarded as well as the others. Of
course this still didn't answer the question why someone wanted
two Supreme Court judges dead.
He remembered that they spent most of the evening talking
about their student days together in Washington, and about
women. Callahan had given him a copy of the brief his girl-friend
- what was her name? Darby - had written about the death of the
two judges. Callahan had said it was an interesting theory. She
didn't believe it, nor did he, but it was worth reading.
Verheek pulled the brief out of his briefcase now and started to
read it. It was better written than most briefs, and he enjoyed it.
The theory was implausible, but no one else had thought of it. It
was worth considering. He would show it to Eric East.
♦
The phone went four times, the answering machine came on,
but the caller left no message. The phone went again, and the
same thing happened again. The third time Grantham climbed out
of bed and answered the phone. It was still dark. 'Yes?'
'Is that Gray Grantham, of the Washington Post?'
'It is. Who's calling?'
'I can't give you my name.'
'OK. Why are you calling?'
'I saw your story yesterday about the White House and the pos-
sible next two Supreme Court judges.'
'Good. But why are you calling me so early in the morning?'
'I'm sorry. I'm in a pay phone. I'm on my way to work. I can't
call from home or the office.'
'What kind of office?'
'I'm a lawyer.'
Great. Washington was home to half a million lawyers. 'Private
or government?'
'I'd rather not say.'
'OK. Anyway, why did you call?'
A hesitation. 'I may know something about Rosenberg and Jensen.'
Grantham sat up straight. 'What, exactly?'
'Are you recording this?'
'No. Should I?'
'I don't know, Mr Grantham. I'd prefer it if you didn't record
this. OK?'
'Whatever you want. I'm listening.'
'Can you trace this call?'
'I could. But you're at a pay phone - what difference would it
make?'
'You're right. I'm just frightened. You see, I think I know who
killed them.'
Now Grantham was standing. 'That's valuable information.'
'It could get me killed. Do you think they're following me?'
'Who? Don't worry. Tell me your name.'
'You can call me Garcia.'
'That's not your real name, is it?
'Of course not, but it's the best I can do.'
'OK, Garcia, talk to me.'
'I'm not certain, you understand. But I think I accidentally saw
something at the office that I was not supposed to see.'
'Do you have a copy of it?'
'Maybe.'
'Do you want to talk or not?'
'I don't know. What will you do if I tell you something?'
'First try to find out whether it's true. We won't print the names
of the killers of two Supreme Court judges in a hurry, believe me.'
There was a very long silence. 'Garcia, are you still there?'
'Yes. I need to think about this. I might call you later.'
'OK, if that's what you want.'
'Sorry I woke you up.'
The phone went dead. Grantham pushed seven numbers on his
phone, waited, and then pushed six more. Another wait, and then
four more. The small screen on his phone showed him a row of
numbers. He wrote them down on a piece of paper. The pay
phone was on Fifteenth Street.
♦
East and K. O. Lewis, Voyles's second-in-command, met with
Coal alone, because the President was out of Washington. They
had two bits of information for him. First, they told him that cameras
at the airport in Paris had recorded the arrival from Dulles of
the killer Khamel.
Coal thought about this for a minute. 'What if Khamel was involved
in the killings? What does it mean?'
'It means we'll never find him,' Lewis replied. 'Nine countries
around the world have failed to find him for the last twenty years.
It means that he was paid a lot of money by someone or some
people here to do the killings.'
'So we know or we think that Khamel did the killings, but it
doesn't really help us, does it?'
'No, you're right.'
'OK. What else have you got for me?'
Lewis looked at East. 'There's no real progress to report, except.
. .'
'Except what?'
'Well, there's this theory which has appeared in the last twentyfour
hours. A law student in New Orleans wrote it up as a brief.
We call it the Pelican Brief. Here's a copy of it. Voyles liked it,
but he was afraid it could hurt the President.'
'How?'
'Read it. You'll see.'
♦
This time Garcia called Grantham during office hours. He didn't
tell him anything new. He was still frightened and uncertain.
They agreed that he would call again at lunch-time the next
day. The call came from a pay phone on Pennsylvania Avenue.
♦
Later, when the President returned, Coal told him about the
brief. 'The theory is implaus