The Book of Fate

76

Try calling him again,” Dreidel said as he spun the acid-free archival box around and checked the dates on its typed spine: Boyle, Ron — Domestic Policy Council — October 15- December 31.

“Just did,” Rogo said, working his way through his own stack and checking the last few boxes in the pile. “You know how Wes gets on the job — he won’t pick up if he’s with Manning.”

“You should still try him agai—”

“And tell him what? That it looks like Boyle had a kid? That there’s some note referencing May 27th? Until we get some details, it doesn’t even help us.”

“It helps us to keep Wes informed — especially where he is right now. He should know that Manning knew.”

“And you’re sure about that?” Rogo asked. “Manning knew about Boyle’s kid?”

“It’s his best friend — and it’s in the file,” Dreidel said. His voice cracked slightly as he looked up from the last few boxes. “Manning definitely knew.”

Rogo watched Dreidel carefully, sensing the change in his tone. “You’re doubting him, aren’t you, Dreidel? For the first time, you’re realizing there might be a crack in the Manning mask.”

“Let’s just keep looking, okay?” Dreidel asked as he tilted the final two milk-crate-sized boxes and scanned the dates. One was labeled Memoranda — January 1-March 31. The other was Congressional AIDS Hearing — June 17-June 19. “Damn,” he whispered, shoving them aside.

“Nothing here either,” Rogo said, closing the last box and climbing up from his knees. “Okay, so grand total — how many boxes do we have that include the May 27 date?”

“Just these,” Dreidel said, pointing to the four archival boxes that they’d set up on the worktable. “Plus you pulled the schedule, right?”

“Not that it helps,” Rogo replied as he waved Manning’s official schedule from May 27. “According to this, the President was with his wife and daughter at their cabin in North Carolina. At noon, he went biking. Then lunch and some fishing on the lake. Nothing but relaxing the whole day.”

“Who was staffing him?” Dreidel asked, well aware that the President never traveled without at least some work.

“Albright…”

“No surprise — he took his chief of staff everywhere.”

“… and Lemonick.”

“Odd, but not out of the ordinary.”

“And then those same names you said were from the Travel Office — Westman, McCarthy, Lindelof—”

“But not Boyle?”

“Not according to this,” Rogo said, flipping through the rest of the schedule.

“Okay, so on May 27th, barely two months before the shooting, Manning was in North Carolina and Boyle was presumably in D.C. So the real question is, what was Boyle doing while the cat was away?”

“And you think the answer’s in one of these?” Rogo asked, circling the tops of the four boxes with his hand.

“Those’re the ones that have date ranges that include May 27th,” Dreidel said. “I’m telling you,” he added as he flipped off the top of the first box, “I’ve got a good feeling. The answer’s in here.”

“There’s no way it’s in here!” Rogo moaned forty-five minutes later.

“Maybe we should go through them again.”

“We already went through them twice. I picked through every sheet of paper, every file, every stupid little Post-it note. Look at these paper cuts!” he said, extending his pointer and middle fingers in a peace sign.

“Voice down!” Dreidel hissed, motioning to the attendant by the computers.

Rogo glanced over at Freddy, who offered a warm smile and a wave. Turning back to Dreidel, he added, “Okay, so now what?”

“Not much choice,” Dreidel said as he scanned the remaining thirty-eight boxes that were stacked like tiny pyramids across the floor. “Maybe they filed it out of order. Flip through each box — pull out anything that has the date May 27th on it.”

“That’s over 20,000 pages.”

“And the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll know the full story,” Dreidel said, tugging a brand-new box up to the worktable.

“I don’t know,” Rogo said as he gripped the handholds of a beaten old box and heaved it up toward the desk. As it landed back-to-back with Dreidel’s box, a puff of dust swirled like a sandstorm. “Part of me worries we’re sifting through the wrong haystack.”