Assumed Identity

13

“One more time,” Alan said. “I want to be sure about this.” He drove a rented Pontiac from the Crowne Plaza hotel. Major Putnam sat next to him. Captain Weller leaned forward from the back. “Do any of you know anything about an order to terminate Buchanan?”

“Absolutely not,” the captain said.

“I received no such instructions,” the major said.

“And I didn’t,” Alan said.

“What’s this about Jack and Cindy Doyle?” the major asked. “I thought their deaths were a murder-suicide.”

“So did I,” the captain said. “Buchanan caught me totally off balance when he said they were a double murder. I don’t know anything about orders to terminate them.”

“Who tried to kill Buchanan?” Alan asked.

“An attempted mugging is still the most logical explanation,” the major said.

“In the middle of a crowd outside a restaurant?” Alan gripped the steering wheel harder. “A pickpocket, sure. But I never heard of a pickpocket who drew attention to himself by stabbing the guy he was trying to lift a wallet from.”

“How about some weirdo who gets his kicks out of stabbing people in public?” the captain asked.

“That makes more sense.” Alan turned onto Canal Street, squinting at headlights. “It’s crazy, but it makes sense.”

“The thing is, Buchanan believes we did it,” the major said. “And that’s just as crazy.”

“But do you think he really believes it?” the captain asked. “He’s an actor. He says things for effect. He can be very convincing.”

“He certainly convinced me,” Alan said.

“But why would he lie?” the major asked.

“To create a smoke screen. To confuse us and divert our attention from the reporter.”

“Why?” the major repeated.

“Buchanan might be right that killing the reporter would cause more problems than it solves,” Alan said. “If she’s genuinely intimidated and she doesn’t write the story, we’ve accomplished our purpose.”

“If. I keep hearing a lot of ifs.”

“I agree with Buchanan,” the captain said. “I think it’s better if we do nothing at this point and just sweat it out.”

“On that score, the colonel’s opinion is the only one that matters,” the major said.

They drove in silence.

“We still haven’t. .” Alan scowled at the bright lights of traffic.

“What?” the captain asked.

“Did someone try to kill Buchanan? Not a wacko but a professional following orders. And if we didn’t give the orders, who did?”