Congressman Bradley.”
Stone admitted, “I’m trying to connect the dots myself, frankly. Were you at the Federalist Club that night?”
Warren nodded slowly. “It was supposed to be a tribute to the old man and ended up being a nightmare.”
“You actually saw it happen?” Milton asked.
“I had that great misfortune. I was next to Mike, Mike Avery. Senator Pierce had just finished a nice toast and bam, shot came out of nowhere. It all happened so fast. I had my glass of champagne next to my lips. Spilled it all over me. It was awful. I was sick to my stomach, a lot of people were.”
“You know Avery well?”
“I should, we worked together, day and night, for ten years.”
“Where is he now?”
“Moved with me when Bradley became Speaker. He’s out of a job now too.”
“We understand that he was the one who put together the event at the club and arranged for the toast.”
“No, he didn’t. Mike and I drove over there together. We were just part of the guest list.”
“We were told he was getting people in the room for the toast.”
“So was I. We were just helping out.”
“Who were you helping?”
“Albert. Albert Trent. He was the one who suggested the toast. Albert was always thinking of stuff like that. I’m just a poor wonk with limited social skills.”
“Albert Trent? Did he put the whole event together?”
“Don’t know. But he was certainly working the room that night.”
“Is he out of a job now too?”
“Oh, no. Albert stayed behind at the intel committee.”
“But I thought you said you followed your congressman?” Stone said, puzzled.
“Normally, you do. But Albert didn’t want to leave. Bradley wasn’t happy about it, I can tell you that. Albert had cut some deal with the new intel chairman coming up to be his top aide. Albert has a way of making himself indispensable. But there’s a lot to do at the Speaker’s office, and not having Albert left us shorthanded. I’m not telling tales out of school. That was public knowledge.”
“But Bradley let him have his way?”
Warren smiled. “You obviously didn’t know Bob Bradley. Like I said, the guy was incredibly decent, honest, hardworking, but you don’t get to his position in life without being tough as hell and persistent. And the man didn’t like having a subordinate buck him. Dollars to doughnuts, Albert was going to end up in the Speaker’s office sooner rather than later.”
“But with Bradley dead, that became a moot point?”
“Of course. Me and Mike tried to do the right thing, and we’re unemployed. Albert bucks the old man and he’s sitting pretty. And Mike’s got four kids and his wife stays home. Trent’s single and no kids. Tell me how that’s fair.”
After they had left, Milton said, “I know, everything I can find on Albert Trent.”
Stone nodded. “Everything.”
“That seems a pretty clear motive for murder, though. I’m surprised the police haven’t jumped on it. Warren didn’t even seem to catch it.”
“What motive?” Stone asked.
“Oliver, it’s obvious. If Bradley lives, Trent has to leave the intelligence committee. If he dies, Trent gets to stay where he is.”
“So you think the man murders the Speaker of the House to avoid changing jobs? And he didn’t pull the trigger because he was at the club. So he’d have to hire a hit man to do it for him. That seems a little extreme to keep a midlevel government position. And like Warren said, the Speaker’s office is far more prestigious.”
“Then there has to be something more.”
“Agreed. But right now we don’t know what that is.”
Inside the house, Dennis Warren picked up the phone and spoke with his friend and former colleague Mike Avery. Then he punched in a second number.
“Albert? Hey, it’s Dennis. Look, sorry to bother you at work, but some guys were here asking some weird questions. I called Mike Avery too, to give him a heads-up. It’s probably nothing, but I thought I’d call you anyway.”
Trent said, “I appreciate that. What exactly did they want to know?”
Warren recounted the conversation and then added, “I told them you’d organized the toast for Bob and that you’d stayed behind at the committee.”
“What did they look like?”
Warren described Stone and Milton. “Do you know them?”
“No, not at all. That is weird.”
“Well, again, I just thought I’d give you a heads-up. Hope I didn’t say anything I shouldn’t have.”
“I have no secrets,” Trent replied.
“Hey, Albert, if anything opens on the committee staff, let me know, willya? I’m tired of twiddling my thumbs.”
“Will do and thanks for the info.”
Albert immediately left his office and made a call from a pay phone and arranged to meet with Seagraves outside the Capitol later.
When Seagraves arrived, Trent said, “We’ve got a problem.”
Seagraves listened and said, “Well, their next move is obvious.”
“You’ll take care of it?”
“I always take care of it.”
CHAPTER 53
WHILE MILTON AND STONE were making their investigative rounds, Caleb glanced up from his desk in the reading room as Annabelle walked in, wearing a black pleated skirt and matching jacket, white blouse and low pumps. She had a tote bag slung over her shoulder and was holding her newly minted library card with her picture on it. Caleb approached her.
“Can I help you, Miss . . . ?”
“Charlotte Abruzzio. Yes, I was looking for a certain book.”
“Well, you came to the right place. After all, this is a library.” Caleb laughed.
Annabelle didn’t even crack a smile. She’d told him to keep the conversation to a minimum and not to attempt any lame jokes, but he’d gone and done it anyway, the little dork. She gave him the name of the book she wanted. It was one he’d suggested the night before when they’d gone over the plan.
Caleb retrieved the volume from the vault, and Annabelle sat down at a table with it. She was seated facing the door and also where she could easily see Caleb.
An hour later Caleb jumped up. “Ah, Jewell, how are you? Jewell, it’s so good to see you,” he said, advancing quickly on the older lady after giving Annabelle a “that’s her” look.
At her seat Annabelle gritted her teeth. What a piece of work. The man could not have been more obvious if he’d pulled out a pair of handcuffs and tackled the old woman. Luckily, Jewell English seemed not to have noticed because she was fumbling in her bag.
A few minutes later Caleb gave Jewell a book from the vault, and she settled down with it. Caleb kept going back over to her often and then glancing at Annabelle as though she might have somehow missed the identity of the target. In exasperation Annabelle finally gave him such a fierce glare that he fled back to his desk.
When Jewell was done an hour later, she packed her bag, said good-bye to Caleb and left. Annabelle followed her a minute later and caught up with her out on the street where the elderly woman was looking for a cab. Annabelle had wrapped a scarf around her head and put on a long jacket she’d carried in her bag. As a cab pulled up to the curb, Annabelle made her move. She bumped into Jewell, jostling the woman’s bag. Her hand slipped in and out of it so fast, a person standing right next to them would’ve been unable to follow the move.
“Oh, my Gawd,” Annabelle said in a deep southern voice. “Honey, I am sooo sorry. My mama didn’t raise me to run into nice ladies like you.”
“That’s all right, dear,” Jewell said, a little out of breath from the collision.
“Y’all have a nice day,” Annabelle said.
“You too,” Jewell said pleasantly as she climbed into the cab.
Annabelle fingered the flowered glass case in her pocket as she walked slowly away. A few minutes later she w
as back in the reading room. There was a different person working the front desk. Caleb hurried over to Annabelle. “Dawn,” he said to the woman at the front desk, “I’m going to give Ms. Abruzzio a quick tour of the vault. She’s in from out of town. I, uh, already cleared it with the higher-ups,” he lied. This sort of flouting of the rules would have been unthinkable a short time ago, but with all that had happened, Caleb considered finding Jonathan’s killer more important than following library rules.
“All right, Caleb,” Dawn said.
The pair went inside the vault, and Caleb led Annabelle to the Jefferson Room, where they could talk in private. She held up the glasses. “Want to try them on? I did and couldn’t see much.”
Caleb did so and then immediately pulled them off. “My God, that’s weird; it’s like looking through three or four layers of different glass, with little sunspots. I don’t understand. I could see through her other pair perfectly.”
“Which is why she gave you those glasses and not these. Otherwise, you would’ve been suspicious. Do you have the book she was looking at?”
He held up the Beadle. “I just pretended to reshelve it.”
Annabelle took the book. “Looks pretty cheap.”
“That’s the whole point. They’re dime novels from the nineteenth century.”
“The thing is she looked like she was reading this book okay with these glasses. I mean, she was taking notes.”
“Yes, she was, wasn’t she?” Caleb slowly put the glasses on and, squinting, opened the book.
“Can you read anything?” Annabelle asked.
“It’s a bit blurry.” As he turned the pages, he suddenly stopped. “Wait a minute, what’s that?”
“What’s what?” she said.
He pointed to a word on the page. “This letter is highlighted. Don’t you see, it’s glowing yellow, bright as day.”
Annabelle looked at where he was pointing. “I don’t see anything like that.”
“Right there!” he exclaimed, putting his finger on a letter e in a word on the first line.
“It’s not glowing to me, and—” She broke off. “Caleb, give me the glasses.” Annabelle slipped them on and looked at the page. The letter was now a vibrant yellow, literally jumping off the page. She slowly took the specs off. “These are really special glasses.”
Caleb was staring at the page with his naked eye. No glow. He put the glasses back on, and the letter e glowed. “And there’s a highlighted w and an h and an f.” He flipped to the next page. “And there’s another w and an s and a p. And a lot more letters. All highlighted.” He took off the glasses. “E, w, h, f, w, s, p. That’s gibberish.”
“No, it’s a code, Caleb,” Annabelle said. “These letters form a secret code, and you need these special glasses to see them.”
He looked astonished. “A secret code?”
“Do you know what other books she’s looked at recently?”
“They’re all Beadles, but I can check the call slips.”
A few minutes later he’d rounded up six books. He went through them page by page wearing the glasses, but there were no glowing letters. “I don’t understand. Was it just the one book?”
“It can’t be,” Annabelle replied in frustration. She held up the book with the glowing letters. “Can I check it out?”
“No, this is not a lending library.”
“Not even you?”
“Well, yes, I can. But I’d have to fill out a four-part call slip.”
“So someone at the library could know you’ve checked it out?”
“Well, yes, they could.”
“That’s no good. We could inadvertently tip someone off.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Caleb, someone here had to highlight those letters. If you take home one of the books involved, it could alert people who are behind whatever the scheme is.”
“Are you saying that someone at the Library of Congress is involved in putting secret codes in rare books?”
“Yes!” she said in exasperation. “Give me the book. I’ll get it out of the building. It’s small and thin, it won’t be a problem. Wait a minute, do the books have electronic antitheft devices built into them?”
He looked appalled by the suggestion. “My God, woman, these are rare books; that would be tantamount to desecrating them.”
“Yeah? Well, it seems that someone already did that by making the letters glow. So I’ll just borrow the book for a while.”
“Borrow it! That book is the property of the Library of Congress!”
“Caleb, don’t make me hit you. I’m taking the book.” He started to protest again but she cut him off. “This might have something to do with Jonathan’s death,” she said. “And if it does, I don’t care what the rules are here, I want the truth about how he died. You were his friend. Don’t you want to know too?”
Caleb quickly calmed and said, “Yes, I do. But getting the book out of here won’t be easy. Technically, we have to check every bag before anyone leaves the room. I can pretend to search yours, of course, but the guards also look into every bag before it leaves the building, and they’re very thorough.”
“Like I said, it won’t be a problem. I’m taking this to Oliver’s place tonight. Meet me there after you get off work. He strikes me as someone who could be able to understand all this.”
“What do you mean? Granted, it seems that he has certain skills and knowledge that are somewhat out of the ordinary, but secret codes? That’s spy stuff.”
“You know, for a man who spends all his time around books, you are the most clueless person I’ve ever met!” she said.
“That is a highly offensive and rude remark,” he said, bristling.
“Good, it was supposed to be!” she snapped. “Now get me some tape.”
“Tape, what for?”
“Just go get it.”
He reluctantly retrieved the tape from a storage cabinet inside the main vault area.
“Now turn around,” she said.
“What?”
She spun him around. While his back was turned, Annabelle hiked her skirt up to her waist, positioned the paperback book around the inside of her left thigh and secured it there with the tape. “That’ll hold it, although it’s not going to be fun getting it off.”
“Please tell me you are not doing anything to damage that book,” he said sternly. “It is a vital piece of history.”
“Turn around and see for yourself.”
He whipped around, saw the book, and also her exposed pale thighs and a thin line of her panties, and gasped.
She said in a breathy voice, “I think the book will be very happy there, Caleb, don’t you?”
“Never in all my years as a librarian at this venerable institution,” he began, his voice quavering with shock; however, Caleb didn’t once take his eyes off her legs even as his heart thundered in his chest.
She slowly pulled her skirt back down, smiling impishly. “And you loved every second of it.” She bumped him with her hip as she passed by. “I’ll see you at Oliver’s, stud!”
CHAPTER 54
AFTER ANNABELLE’S MEMO-rable display, Caleb had recovered enough to where he could at least pretend to work. That was interrupted a bit later when Kevin Philips entered the reading room and came over to his desk.
“Caleb, can you step outside?” he said quietly.
Caleb rose. “Sure, Kevin, what’s up?”
Philips looked very concerned and said in a low voice, “The police are outside. They want to talk to you.”
Caleb instantly felt all of his organs shutting down even as his mind raced madly through the possible doomsday reasons why the cops were here for him. Had the damn woman been caught with the book taped next to her crotch and spilled her guts naming him as an accomplice? Had Jewell English discovered what had happened and reported the theft of her glasses to the authorities, with all arrows pointing to him? Was he, Caleb Shaw, going to fry in the electric chair?
“Uh, Caleb, can you please get up and come with me?” Philips said.
Caleb looked up at him and realized that he had missed his chair and