Claire Gulliver #02 - Washington Weirdos Read online

  First, in each of the two occasions when she had previously been in grave danger, she had experienced anxiety and nightmares, subconscious warnings that something was very wrong. So far, she had not had that same experience. Did that mean she wasn’t in danger?

  Secondly, the Guiness group displayed a total disregard for human life in their plan to destroy an airplane containing over three hundred innocent people. And that same kind of disregard seemed present last night, if someone did indeed poison the spinach, which was to be served to the guests at the Lickmans’ gala.

  But did that similarity mean they were connected? She sat up and put on her shoes, then headed for the bathroom to wash her face and fix her hair suddenly anxious for the meeting to start. Maybe someone could make sense out of this.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The library seemed crowded when Claire arrived. Charlie entered right behind her carrying another chair and set it in the semi-circle that had been arranged in front of the library desk.

  “Did you get something to eat?” she asked Wiley. He was easy to spot standing heads above most of the people in the room.

  “Sure did.” He grinned. “Cook had tucked a few sandwiches away in the fridge.” Then he gestured to a smaller man standing next to him. “Claire I don’t know if you two have met yet?”

  The man shook his head as he moved forward, hand outstretched.

  “Claire, this is Marcus Ng, Special Agent with the FBI. He has been assigned to this case and is coordinating the efforts between the agencies involved. And Vantage, of course.”

  Marcus’ hand was firm, his voice somber. “I’m very glad to meet you Ms. Gulliver. I’ve certainly heard about you.”

  Claire immediately liked this man. He was impeccability groomed and had an air of competence about him which was very reassuring.

  “I look forward to working with you,” he continued, releasing her hand. “I know this situation keeps getting more bizarre. But with the talent we have available, I’m sure we’ll come up with a solution soon.” Then glancing at his watch, he announced firmly, “It’s four. Let’s get started.”

  Marcus stood behind David’s desk and in a clear strong voice asked everyone to be seated. It took only a few minutes. MiMi slipped into the room in time to take the chair in the front row between Claire and David. Neil sat at the far end of the same row. Jack stood behind Marcus in front of the bookshelves, unobtrusive yet somehow appearing to be the man running things behind the scene. The rest of the chairs were filled with an assortment of people. Some were people who had been in David’s office after the Board Meeting, so Claire assumed they were working for Wiley. Wiley was there, of course, in the back where he could watch everything. And Charlie had taken one of the chairs near Wiley.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for getting here on such short notice. I’m sure you’ll all agree that we have a unique and puzzling situation confronting us. We need solutions fast to neutralize the situation. So I suggest using the following format to get this meeting going. I’m going to introduce the principals, then, I’d like each of you to stand up and give your name and your affiliation to the group. Bill, over there,” he pointed to a man in the row behind Claire, “is going to take notes, so each department will get a copy later. We will review all the facts we currently have. We’ll try to answer any questions you may have, then I’m hoping we can do some brainstorming. Lastly, before we leave we will have decided on how we should proceed and who will do what. Does that sound satisfactory?”

  Marcus saw the nods and proceeded. “My name is Marcus Ng. I’m a Special Agent with the FBI, and I have been assigned “Agent in Charge.” That means all new information needs to be routed through me to reach all the interested parties. Is that understood?” Again he paused briefly, his eyes scanning the group. “Okay. Before you leave, make sure you each pick up one of my cards here. It will give you all my numbers. We don’t want a pertinent piece of information slipping through the cracks because it didn’t get reported correctly.

  “Now, sitting here in front is David and MiMi Lickman, whose house we are meeting in. David is CEO and President of Vantage Airlines. MiMi is a principal stockholder and a member of their Board. Next to them is Claire Gulliver. Claire is the owner of a bookstore in California and currently a houseguest of the Lickmans. Claire played a key role in thwarting a terrorist attack on a Vantage Airliner out of London earlier this year.”

  Claire felt all eyes swivel her way and felt her face grow hot.

  “Now, starting there,” he pointed at Neil and all eyes followed his finger, “introduce yourself and identify who you represent.”

  “Neil Pinschley, Executive Vice President, Vantage Airlines.” Neil was cool and confident, but Claire remembered how he had lost control last night in the kitchen.

  Neil sat down and the man next to him stood. “Gary Olson, Sergeant, D.C. Police.”

  And so it went. Claire didn’t even try to remember who was who, and who belonged where. She noted the three women besides herself and MiMi and the rest were men in a variety of colors and sizes. One thing they all had in common, an intense look in their eyes and a grim set to their mouths. They were serious people, here for a serious purpose.

  “All right! As you can see, this case touches many different groups and I appreciate you all taking the time to be here to help us.

  “Let’s begin. We have three separate incidents, which may or may not be connected. But we know something serious is happening and we have one corpse to prove it. The first incident occurred in England earlier this year. Jack, can you give us a recap?”

  Jack was brief, packing it all into a couple minutes. The warning picked up by the watchers, the decision to place an agent on the tour, the careful monitoring of all the tour members’ movements and the final disappointment when nothing suspicious was detected. Then Claire’s dramatic insistence that the plane’s takeoff be aborted and the subsequent search, which revealed the bomb cleverly built into the laptop computer. This was the same computer which had accompanied the tour throughout Britain under the control of Rosa Morino. He included how Guiness, alias, Rosa had taken another plane leaving from the same terminal instead of getting on the targeted plane. And how they had apprehended her in Miami, but before all the congratulations had ended there had been an ambush and an explosion, resulting in dead agents and no trace of their suspect.

  He paused a moment. Looking around, he saw Marcus’ nod and continued with a description of the attack on Claire on the Mall the previous Tuesday.

  Then he surrendered the floor to Wiley, who briefed everyone on their decision to move Claire in to the Lickmans’ residence until they found out what was behind the attack on her. He described the steps they had taken to beef up security at the house and for the party. He admitted that by Saturday they had pretty much thought the Mall incident was just the normal crime-in-the-city scenario.

  Then he told them about the incident in the kitchen.

  Wiley then turned the floor over to Detective Maynard of the Maryland State Police who described the subsequent murder scene and what they knew about the victim. He passed around copies of the pictures of the victim and described the evidence they had obtained from the crime scene.

  Jack told them about Tuffy. Claire was gratified to hear the murmurs of shock and outrage over the sick dog from this group who hadn’t even flinched at the description of the corpse in the boat launching area. She reached over and patted MiMi’s hand. MiMi took a deep ragged breath as she tried to smile at Claire. And they both listened to Jack’s description of the search for samples of the spilled spinach dish and the lab report.

  “There you have it ladies and gentlemen, a bewildering collection of facts. Does anyone have any ideas?”

  “Do we know how the botulism was introduced into the spinach?” One of the women asked tentatively.

  Marcus described the search of the caterer’s kitchen. A small dish of the soufflé made at the same time for another affair scheduled on
Sunday was tested and proved to be botulism free. The team from the Health Department had gone over the recipe, the procedures for cooking and maintaining the heat until serving and found them to be acceptable. Their conclusion at this point, only because of finding Tony the Pickman in the kitchen, was that the botulism had been introduced to the spinach by a foreign means. In other words, it did not accidentally grow in the dish because of mishandling.

  “What would be the motive for this Guiness to remove Claire? You say she wasn’t the original target and it seems that there are many other people that can now be witnesses, now that they know Guiness is Rosa.”

  The question came from behind Claire so she couldn’t see who posed it.

  “Is Claire the target?” A voice asked.

  “Who else?” The question came from the back of the room.

  “Gotta be!” Several nodded agreement to that.

  “Are there other motives to eliminate Claire?” And they all looked at her intently.

  So on it went, until Claire was dizzy from swiveling her head to follow the discussion.

  “Claire, what about that drug case in San Francisco? Is there any chance it could be the motive for a hit?” The room went silent waiting for her reply.

  Slowly she shook her head. “No, no, I’m sure not. As far as I know, I wasn’t identified as having any part in it.”

  “But, I know! There might be others who know. There could have been a leak.” Jack looked at Marcus grimly.

  He nodded. “Bill, make a note of that; the Bureau will follow that lead.”

  “What about the Lickmans? Could they have been the target?”

  “Motive?”

  “Well, their airline was targeted for a terrorist attack that failed.” The man shrugged. “Maybe someone decided to take that attack a little closer to home.”

  “Yeah, didn’t you say the spinach soufflé was David’s favorite?”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Then why the attack on Claire? No, Claire is the target, in my opinion.”

  “Me too. Look at the chain of events. Claire is in the middle of it all.”

  Everyone nodded. Claire felt as if a lead weight had been placed on her head. She looked around the room. They all agreed and that made her feel guilty. It all seemed to be her fault. When her eyes stopped on Neil she noticed he had a strange expression on his face. Then his eyes met hers and changed. She forced her eyes past him and stopped at Jack. His face, usually immobile, held a look of concern. He, too, obviously agreed she was the target.

  Claire was in a daze and her head hurt. She was thinking about what she should do, not even following the conversation, which was bouncing from person to person around the room. She was the cause of Tuffy’s poisoning. Because of her, many people could have died or been seriously injured eating the spinach soufflé. She had to get out of the Lickmans’ house before another tragedy occurred.

  “Okay, that’s it. Don’t forget to get your findings to me as soon as possible. If anything else comes up I’ll pass it on. Let’s solve this case. We don’t need to wait for something terrible to happen. We need to follow all our leads until we find the answer. Right?”

  “Right!” Agreement chorused back. People stood up, shuffling around for their belongings, many coming up to the desk to pick up one of Marcus’s cards, some conversing about details. Several nodded encouragingly to Claire as they passed.

  Claire sat there even more confused, her musings had left her out of the conversation and she had no idea what the plan was. She turned to MiMi and David. “I’m so sorry. It seems I brought this on you. And poor Tuffy! I feel so bad. I just can’t tell you how...”

  “Claire, stop!” MiMi was stern. “This isn’t your fault. If you are the target it isn’t because you deserve it. You didn’t do anything bad.”

  David nodded his agreement, reaching past his wife to pat Claire’s arm. “They’re going to find whoever is responsible. You’ll see. I’m sorry you’re going to be confined to the grounds for a few days but I really think its best, don’t you?”

  She nodded. So that was it. She would stay put while everyone was out there searching. And if no one managed to get by security, she’d be safe; they’d all be safe.

  She hoped.

  * * *

  “You want what?” The tone was incredulous, unbelieving. “What do you think this is? Wal-Mart? You can’t just pick one off the shelf.”

  “Why not? I figure you owe me. Actually, you owe me plenty. If you had done your job last June I wouldn’t need help now.” His voice was sharp but steady, giving no indication of how close to screaming he really was. Nothing was going the way it was supposed to. It had all been so simple, but then one thing after another had gone wrong. He couldn’t wait any longer. It had to be done, and soon.

  He tried again, this time he softened his tone somewhat. “Look, I need your help. I know its short notice, but you have resources; you have people who know how to do this. What I need is simple. It doesn’t have to be camouflaged. Just make something with a lot of bang. And make sure it’s big enough to take a sixty-five footer to the bottom. It doesn’t even have to have a timer. Just rig something I can set and still have enough time to get off before it blows.

  There was a silence on the line.

  “Are you there?”

  “I’m thinking. Shut up.”

  “Now wait a minute.” He didn’t like being talked to in that way.

  “I said, shut up!”

  The silence seemed to stretch forever. Then abrupt words, “Okay, I’ll talk to her. Call me back in two hours.”

  “That won’t give you much time.”

  “I said two hours.”

  “Fine, I’ll call you then.”

  * * *

  “Claire, Claire, guess what?” Amy was already equipped with one of her special cocktails.

  “What?” Claire looked around hoping for a glass of wine before getting into a long discussion with Amy.

  “Tuffy’s better. The doctor called Gramimi and said so.” She beamed.

  JoJo joined them, nodding her agreement. “Gramimi said he was coming home on Tuesday, after all the houseguests leave. He will need a little extra attention for a while, but the Doctor said the anti...the...you know, that stuff they got for him, seemed to be doing the trick.”

  Claire’s smile spread at the news. “I’m so glad. I know how worried you all were. I was worried. It doesn’t take long to love Tuffy, does it?”

  Hal, from the croquet court, brought her a glass of wine. “MiMi told me you’d want this.” He smiled, looking at the drinks the girls were holding. “Looks like you two are doing okay, huh?” And he wandered off to find one of his cohorts.

  Claire looked around the large drawing room, which had been made larger by the sliding pocket doors of the parlor opened to make an even larger room across that side of the house.

  “So you girls are having dinner with us tonight?”

  “No, we already ate. Gramimi said Mom would be mad at her if she let us stay up every night. And we did get to stay up until ten last night, so it’s okay.”

  “Yes, sometimes when all the grownups talk it gets kind of boring.” JoJo shrugged. “We had our dinner and after cocktails we’re going up to watch a movie before bed.”

  “There you are, girls. Amy, did you tell Claire how well you did at croquet after she left?” Great Auntie Maude looked proudly at Amy. “Of course, JoJo is a natural. Someday she’ll be the champ, won’t you, my dear?”

  Claire listened with half an ear to Amy’s description of her first croquet game, her eyes roaming the room crowded with houseguests and a few others. She noticed a man and a woman over by the French doors leading to the terrace. Even though they had drink glasses in their hands, they seemed to be unusually alert and their eyes were roaming the room carefully. She assumed they were working, either FBI or police.

  Great Auntie Maude was telling a story about the girls’ mother as a small girl when Claire spied Jack entering t
he room. He headed immediately for the couple near the doors, so she excused herself and headed that way too.

  “There you are, Claire. This is Rodriguez and Mercer, from the FBI. They’re keeping an eye on things. We also have three outside. Does that make you feel better?” He slipped his arm around her waist and gave her a little hug.

  She nodded cordially at the agents and then said, “Jack, can I talk to you?”

  “Sure, excuse us.”

  She slipped out of his arm and moved to the far end of the room, which, being so far away from the drinks and noshes, was empty.

  “Jack, I’m very nervous about all this.” He looked surprised.

  “Somehow, I think we’re looking at this situation all wrong.”

  “Okay.” He paused. “Tell me why.”

  Claire was really nervous now. It was hard to put her feelings into words. “Oh, you don’t have a drink. Did you want one?”

  He waved her on. “I’m not drinking, go on. What’s your point?”

  She flushed, feeling a trifle ridiculous. And then remembering she had been ridiculous more than once in her life, she straightened her shoulders and tried to explain.

  “Now let me get this straight,” he said when she paused. “You don’t feel like you’re in danger?” His skepticism felt like a cold dash of water, but she persisted.

  “No. I know it sounds silly but, whenever I’ve been in danger before, something – some sixth sense, an angel on my shoulder, something – warned me.”

  “And when you were in the Mall and Tony the Pickman was stalking you, did you feel in danger then?” He raised his eyebrows.

  She nodded. “Yes. Yes I did. I felt him coming. My hair stood up on my nape. That’s why I turned around under that light. I knew something, somebody was there.”

  She tried to ignore his disbelief. “And on the plane, I almost passed out from fright. I knew! And I had been having all those nightmares before we even got to the airport. It was my subconscious telling me something was wrong.”