Capital Crimes

21

SPECIAL AGENT KERRY SMITH arrived at the White House and, after identifying himself twice and having his package X-rayed, he was admitted to the office of the secretary to the president.

Smith had been at the Washington headquarters of the Bureau for less than a month, after tours in Atlanta, Houston, and Seattle. He thought of himself as a supremely competent FBI agent, but being inside the White House rattled him. When he reached the office of Cora Parker, he was sweating.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked.

“It’s hot in here.”

She got up and walked over to the thermostat on the wall of her office. “It’s sixty-eight degrees. Everybody else is wearing sweaters. Are you sick? I’m not having any viruses in the Oval Office.”

“I’m not sick, I assure you.”

She sat back down at her desk. “Is this your first time in the White House?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That explains it.”

“What?”

“The sweating. You’ve got the first-time-in-the-White-House sweats, that’s all.”

“Ma’am, I just want to get the president’s signature on a receipt, and then I’m out of here.”

“What have you got for him?”

“Didn’t Agent Kinney’s office call?”

“Yes, but they didn’t say what was in the package.” She held her hand out. “Let me have it.”

“No, ma’am, it’s for the president’s eyes only.”

“I’m not going to open it, I just want to feel it.”

“Feel it?”

“That’s what I said. Do your instructions say anything about somebody besides the president feeling it?”

“No, ma’am, but it’s already been X-rayed and passed.”

“Give it to me.”

He handed her the package, but when she picked up a letter opener, he snatched it back.

“Boy, you nearly got a letter opener right through your hand.”

“You can’t open it, ma’am.”

She burned a look right through him. “You sit down over there and wait until I can get to you.”

He sat down, holding the package primly on his knees.

FORTY MINUTES LATER, a door beside Cora Parker’s desk opened, and the president stepped through it. “Cora, will you please make some time for Senator Kennedy this afternoon, and let his office know when?”

Agent Smith leapt to his feet, attracting the president’s attention.

Will Lee turned and looked at the young man. “Who’s this?”

“Special Agent Kerry Smith of the FBI, sir. I have a package for you.”

“Just give it to Ms. Parker,” he replied and turned back toward the Oval Office.

“I’m sorry, sir, but Agent Kinney has instructed me to deliver it to you, personally, and to no one else.”

Will paused. “Let me explain how this works,” he said. “One of these days, somebody is going to smuggle a bomb into the White House, and when they do, I’m determined that it’s going to be Ms. Parker who opens it, not me.”

Cora Parker stood up. “Mr. President, I quit,” she said. “I’m not going to be a sniffer dog or a canary in a coal mine for anybody, not even the president of the United States.”

“Well, in that case, Agent Smith,” Will said, “you’d better give it to me. Ms. Parker is not cooperating.”

Smith handed the package to the president and dug in his pocket for the receipt and a pen.

“Ms. Parker will sign for it,” the president said. “That’s not an exploding pen, is it?”

“”No, sir,“ Agent Smith replied.

“How do I know that?” Cora demanded.

“Oh, all right, I’ll sign for it,” the president said. He scrawled his name on the receipt and handed it back to Smith. “Thank you, Agent Smith.”

“Good morning, sir.” He spun around and fled the office.

Will and Cora Parker burst out laughing.

“It’s his first visit to the White House,” she said.

“I figured,” Will replied.

Will sat down in a comfortable chair and ripped open the package. He read Bob Kinney’s letter, then he began to go through the index cards.

There, in a copperplate hand learned in a South Carolina schoolroom seventy-odd years ago, was a concise but surprisingly accurate history of his life, beginning with his dropping out of law school, at the behest of the dean, and spending a year in Ireland. His affair with a young schoolteacher named Concepta Lydon was mentioned- how the hell did Freddie find out about that? he wondered.

His affair with Kate was covered, too, much of it at a time when he had thought nobody knew about it. He felt his ears burning. He read quickly through the rest of the cards, finding nothing that caused him any great concern. Finally, he walked back into Cora’s office and dropped the cards into her shredder.

“Well, what could that be?” she asked, reaching for the cards.

He slapped her wrist lightly. “It would only embarrass you,” he said. He stayed until the remainder of the cards had fed into the shredder.

That night over dinner, Will told Kate about Freddie’s files. “He knew all about us when we thought it was a secret,” he said.

“How much did he know?”

“Pretty much everything.”

She looked shocked. “Not what we did in bed.”

“No, at least he didn’t make notes about it. He outlined the whole business with Ed Rawls, too. You should have told me about it at the time.”

“Come on, Will, aren’t you glad I didn’t? I mean, really?”

“Well, yes. At least I could have truthfully denied knowing about it.”

“That can be important sometimes.” She wasn’t going to tell him about the most recent letter from Ed, either. “What did you do with the file?”

“I shredded it.”

“Before I had a chance to read it?”

“There were things that didn’t concern you in the file.”

“Aha! Other women!”

“Well, yes, but long before I met you. It was all very innocent.”

“Innocent?”

“Well, maybe not completely innocent. You would have approved.”

“I doubt it,” she said, kicking him under the table.

“Well, that’s my best guess.”

“Well never know now, will we?”

Will beamed at her. “I guess not.”