Conspiracy

134

Rubens stood at the back of the Art Room, surveying the room. It was nearly empty, with only two runners and the supervisor, Chris Farlekas, on duty. It had been a long, fruitless day, and Desk Three’s center of operations was eerily quiet — never a good sign.

“Nothing?” said Rubens when Farlekas glanced up at him.

“A few things. The analysis of the DNA sample from Chief Ball should be available soon. Ambassador Jackson checked in from Secret Service headquarters. There was a threat against another candidate. The Ser vice isn’t sure if it was a copycat or not. It was sent by e-mail and they know where it originated. They’re in the pro cess of seizing the computers. I volunteered our help, but they said it was under control. The network is in Las Vegas, and they have plenty of agents there. It was sent from a Starbucks,” added Farlekas. “A little different than the others.”

“The President?”

“Due in LA around five a.m. tomorrow. The Ser vice is confident they can protect him.”

“Have Mr. Dean wait for him at the airport. He wants to be briefed personally.”

“I already told him.”

Rubens glanced around the room. There was nothing for him to do here, and he had more than enough work waiting back upstairs. Still, he wanted to stay.

No, what he wanted to do was solve this, apprehend Chief Ball, and find out who was trying to assassinate McSweeney — assuming Gallo was right and it wasn’t the police chief.

“I’ll be in my office. Let me know if anything develops overnight.”

“You’re going back to your office?” asked Farlekas. “It’s past seven.”

“I have a few things to wrap up,” said Rubens. “Thank you for your concern.”