"Well, yes, sir."
Within seconds, Velmano said, "Yes, what's going on?"
Gray identified himself for the third time, and explained about the recorder.
"I understand," Velmano snapped.
"We're running a story in the morning about your client, Victor Mattiece, and his involvement in the assassinations of Justices Rosenberg and Jensen."
"Great! We'll sue your ass for the next twenty years. You're out in left field, buddy. We'll own the Post."
"Yes, sir. Remember, I'm recording this."
"Record all you want! You'll be named as a defendant. This will be great! Victor Mattiece will own the Washington Post! This is fabulous!"
Gray shook his head in disbelief at Darby. The editors smiled at the floor. This was about to be very funny.
"Yes, sir. Have you heard of the pelican brief? We have a copy."
Dead silence. Then a distant grunt, like the last gasp of a dying dog. Then more silence.
"Mr. Velmano. Are you there?"
"Yes."
We also have a copy of a memo you sent to Sims Wakefield, dated September 28, in which you suggest your client's position will be greatly improved if Rosenberg and Jensen are removed from the Court. We have a source that tells us this idea was researched by one called Einstein, who sits in a library on the sixth floor, I believe."
Silence.
Gray continued. "We have the story ready to run, but I wanted to give you the chance to comment. Would you care to comment, Mr. Velmano?"
"I have a headache."
"Okay. Anything else?"
"Will you run the memo word for word?"
"Yes."
"Will you run my picture?"
"Yes. It's an old one from a Senate hearing."
"You son of a bitch."
"Thank you. Anything else?"
"I notice you've waited until five o'clock. An hour earlier, and we could've run to court and stopped this damned thing."
"Yes, sir. It was planned that way."
"You son of a bitch."
"Okay."
"You don't mind ruining people, do you?" His voice trailed off, and he was almost pitiful. What a marvelous quote. Gray had mentioned the recorder twice, but Velmano was too shocked to remember it.
"No, sir. Anything else?"
"Tell Jackson Feldman the lawsuit will be filed at nine in the morning, just as soon as the courthouse opens."
"I'll do that. Do you deny you wrote the memo?"
"Of course."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
"Do you deny the existence of the memo?"
"It's a fabrication."
"There's no lawsuit, Mr. Velmano, and I think you know it."
Silence, then, "You son of a bitch."
The phones clicked, and they were listening to the dial tone. They smiled at each other in disbelief.
"Don't you want to be a journalist, Darby?" Smith Keen asked.
"Oh, this is fun," she said. "But I was almost mugged twice yesterday. No, thanks."
Feldman stood and pointed to the recorder. "I wouldn't use any of that."
"But I sort of liked the part about ruining lives. And what about the lawsuit threats?" Gray asked.
"You don't need it, Gray. The story takes up the entire front page now. Maybe later."
There was a knock at the door. It was Krauthammer. "Voyles wants to see you," he said to Feldman.
"Bring him in here."
Gray stood quickly and Darby walked to the window. The sun was fading and the shadows were falling. Traffic inched along the street. There was no sign of Stump and his band of confederates, but they were there, no doubt waiting on darkness, no doubt plotting one last effort to kill her, either for prevention or revenge. Gray said he had a plan to exit the building without gunfire after the deadline. He wasn't specific.
Voyles entered with K. O. Lewis. Feldman introduced them to Gray Grantham, and to Darby Shaw. Voyles walked to her, smiling and looking up. "So you're the one who started all this," he said in an attempt at admiration. It didn't work.
She instantly despised him. "I think it was Mattiece," she said coolly. He turned away and took off the trench coat.
"Can we sit?" he asked in general.
They sat around the table - Voyles, Lewis, Feldman, Keen, Grantham, and Krauthammer. Darby stood by the window.
"I have some comments for the record," Voyles announced, taking a sheet of paper from Lewis. Gray began taking notes.
"First, we received a copy of the pelican brief two weeks ago today, and submitted it to the White House on the same day. It was personally delivered by the deputy director, K. O. Lewis, to Mr. Fletcher Coal, who received it with our daily summary to the White House. Special agent Eric East was present during the meeting. We thought it raised enough questions to be pursued, but it was not pursued for six days, until Mr. Gavin Verheek, special counsel to the director, was found murdered in New Orleans. At that time, the FBI immediately began a full-scale investigation of Victor Mattiece. Over four hundred agents from twenty-seven offices have taken part in the investigation, logging over eleven thousand hours, interviewing over six hundred people, and going to five foreign countries. The investigation is continuing in full force at this time. We believe Victor Mattiece to be the prime suspect in the assassinations of Justices Rosenberg and Jensen, and at this time we are attempting to locate him."
Voyles folded the paper and handed it back to Lewis.
"What will you do if you find Mattiece?" Grantham asked.
"Arrest him."
"Do you have a warrant?"
"We'll have one soon."
"Do you have any idea where he is?"
"Frankly, no. We've been trying to locate him for a week, with no success."
"Did the White House interfere with your investigation of Mattiece?"
"I'll discuss it off the record. Agreed?"
Gray looked at the executive editor. "Agreed," Feldman said.
Voyles stared at Feldman, then Keen, then Krauthammer, then Grantham. "We're off the record, right? You cannot use this under any circumstances. Do we understand this?"
They nodded and watched him carefully. Darby was watching too.
Voyles looked suspiciously at Lewis. "Twelve days ago, in the Oval Office, the President of the United States asked me to ignore Victor Mattiece as a suspect. In his words, he asked me to back off."
"Did he give a reason?" asked Grantham.
"The obvious. He said it would be very embarrassing and seriously damage his reelection efforts. He felt there was little merit to the pelican brief, and if it was investigated, then the press would learn of it, and he would suffer politically."
Krauthammer listened with his mouth open. Keen stared at the table. Feldman hung on every word.
"Are you certain?" Gray asked.
"I recorded the conversation. I have a tape, which I will not allow anyone to hear unless the President first denies this."
There was a long silence as they admired this mean little bastard and his tape recorder. A tape!
Feldman cleared his throat. "You just saw the story. There was a delay by the FBI from the time it had the brief until it began its investigation. This must be explained in the story."
"You have my statement. Nothing more."
"Who killed Gavin Verheek?" Gray asked.
"I will not talk about the specifics of the investigation."
"But do you know?"