Clear and present danger - Tom Clancy [182]
Everyone worked late that night. There was the investigation to run, and routine office business had to be kept current as well. By the time Moira came into Mr. Shaw's office, she'd managed to organize everything he'd need to know, and it was also time to tell him what she'd forgotten. She wasn't surprised to see Mr. Murray there, too. She was surprised when he spoke first.
"Moira, were you interviewed about Emil's trip?" Dan asked.
She nodded. "Yes. I forgot something. I wanted to tell you this morning, Mr. Shaw, but when I came in early you were asleep. Connie saw me," she assured him.
"Go on," Bill said, wondering if he should feel a little better about that or not.
Mrs. Wolfe sat down, then turned to look at the open door. Murray walked over to close it. On the way back he placed his hand on her shoulder.
"It's okay, Moira."
"I have a friend. He lives in Venezuela. We met… well, we met a month and a half ago, and we - this is hard to explain."
She hesitated, staring at the rug for a moment before looking up. "We fell in love. He comes up to the States on business every few weeks, and with the Director away, we wanted to spend a weekend - at The Hideaway, in the mountains near Luray Caverns?"
"I know it," Shaw said. "Nice place to get away from it all."
"Well, when I knew that Mr. Jacobs was going to be away and we had a chance for a long weekend, I called him. He has a factory. He makes auto parts - two factories, actually, one in Venezuela and one in Costa Rica. Carburetors and things like that."
"Did you call him at his home?" Murray asked.
"No. He works such long hours that I called him at his factory. I have the number here." She handed over the scrap of Sheraton note paper that he'd written it down on. "Anyway, I got his secretary - her name's Consuela - because he was out on the shop floor, and he called me back, and I told him that we could get together, so he came up - we met at the airport Friday afternoon. I left early after Mr. Jacobs did."
"Which airport?"
"Dulles."
"What's his name?" Shaw asked.
"Díaz. Juan Díaz. You can call him there at the factory and -"
"That phone number goes to an apartment, not a factory, Moira," Murray said. And it was that clear, that fast.
"But - but he -" She stopped. "No. No. He isn't -"
"Moira, we need a complete physical description."
"Oh, no." Her mouth fell open and wouldn't close. She looked from Shaw to Murray and back again as the horror of it all closed in on her. She was dressed in black, of course, probably the same outfit she'd worn to bury her own husband. For a few weeks she'd been a bright, beautiful, happy woman again. No more. Both FBI executives felt her pain, hating themselves for having brought it to her. She was a victim, too. But she was also a lead, and they needed a lead.
Moira Wolfe summoned what little dignity she had left and gave them as complete a description as they had ever had of any man in a voice as brittle as crystal before she lost control entirely. Shaw had his personal assistant drive her home.
"Cortez," Murray said as soon as the door closed behind her.
"That's a pretty solid bet," the Executive Assistant Director(Investigations) agreed. "The book on him says that he's a real ace at compromising people. Jesus, did he ever prove that right." Shaw's head went from side to side as he reached for some coffee. "But he couldn't have known what they were doing, could he?"
"Doesn't make much sense to have come here if he did," Murray said. "But since when are criminals logical? Well, we start checking immigration control points, hotels, airlines. See if we can track this cocksucker. I'll get on it. What are we going to do about Moira?"
"She didn't break any laws, did she?" That was the really odd part. "Find a place where she doesn't have to see classified material, maybe in another agency. Dan, we can't destroy her, too."
"No."
Moira Wolfe got home just before eleven. Her kids were all still up waiting for her. They assumed that her tears were a delayed reaction from the funeral.