Fallout

CHAPTER 27

As Paige drove the van back from Sedan crater, her cellular phone rang shrilly at her side. She excused herself from polite conversation with the Russians and used her thumb to punch the RECEIVE button.

She recognized the crisp, reedy voice of Dr. Adams, the Nye County ME who had discovered Nevsky had been murdered and who had promised his final report on the autopsy no later than today. “Ms. Mitchell, could you come down to the ME’s office as soon as possible? I have disturbing news, and I think we should discuss this in person.”

She immediately became wary, knowing the Russians would be eavesdropping. “Certainly, sir. I’ll get there as soon as possible,” she said, not asking for additional details.

“You might want to bring your FBI friend, too.”

She felt suddenly cold. Had he found something else about Nevsky? Something must be terribly wrong. “I’ll try to get in touch with him. Can I ask what this is regarding?”

“It concerns some… unexpected results he asked me to check,” Adams said evasively. “Have a pleasant drive.”

Paige returned the phone to her side as she felt eyes boring into her as conversation faded. She looked over to see Ursov staring at her expectantly. “A message from your coroner, Ms. Mitchell? Can we finally have the analysis of Ambassador Nevsky’s death? Or has someone else suffered an unpleasant accident?”

Paige turned to face the Russian general, unwilling to let him bully her. “I promised you that report as soon as it’s available, General.”

“My government is getting extremely impatient,” Ursov said. “Our scheduled inspection activities end tomorrow, and I must submit a final briefing upon our return to Moscow. It will look very bad for the summit meeting if we must end our mission with such difficulties.”

Nikolai Bisovka spoke tightly, leaning back and holding an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “This reminds me of times before fall of former Soviet Union,” She found his supercilious tone highly annoying. “Or, as some say, back in the good old days.”

Paige pulled the government pickup into the Nye County offices. The main civic building was a two-story stucco structure set off from the street, as if the city wanted to hide its administrative functions from Main Street traffic.

Uncle Mike dislodged his gangly legs from the front of the pickup, swinging down. Since Craig had been whisked off on some sort of emergency call, Paige had decided to take the DAF Manager along instead, since this concerned him as well. Mike ran a hand through his thinning hair. “I bet you miss your MG sportscar back in Livermore,” he said.

She smiled warmly at him. “Oh, red convertible or a big ugly government pickup — gee, I hardly notice the difference.”

The county administration building was a cool relief from the noon sun. A building directory stood near an indoor planter of prickly pear cactus that extended along the wall. Somewhere in back a fountain splashed. Running her finger down the list, Paige saw what she needed. Room 127, third door down.

As they walked along the hall, Uncle Mike spoke quietly, as if afraid his voice would echo throughout the building. “Did the ME give you any hint of what he learned about Nevsky when he called this morning?”

Paige rapped on the door of Room 127. “He only said he wanted Craig to be present. I didn’t ask any questions, since our friend General Ursov was listening in.”

The heavy door swung open, pushed by a policeman dressed in a short-sleeve black uniform. Another policeman stood inside with two men in white lab coats and another man in a suit.

“Ah, Miss Mitchell?” A short, angular man wearing a white lab coat looked up from a table, putting down a clipboard. “Please come in.” His reedy voice seemed very loud in the room. Dr. Adams made quick introductions of his staff.

“Mr. Waterloo is the Device Assembly Facility manager,” Paige said. “Is this about releasing the report on Ambassador Nevsky’s death?”

Adams looked taken back. “The Russian? I’m sorry, Miss Mitchell — we’re waiting for the State Department to clear our final report. I’m glad Mr. Waterloo came along, though, since he’s the NTS representative. We’ve completed a preliminary chemistry analysis on Mr. Carl Jorgenson, and that’s why these officers are here. Thanks to a suggestion from Agent Kreident, we checked for a certain drug known to cause cardiac arrest. Usually fatal in a large enough dose.”

Paige and Uncle Mike both looked at each other.

Adams raised his eyebrows. “You see, Jorgenson’s death was not accidental — far from it. He may have caused the death himself by ingesting this drug, or it could have been murder. It’s not my place to make that determination.”

Uncle Mike’s expression sickened, his skin tone turned grayish. “Why would Agent Kreident ask you to check for that specific drug? Why did he suspect Jorgenson might have… not died from natural causes?”

The coroner looked at the police detective, then at his lab assistant. “Because an FBI undercover agent connected to this case was murdered in the same fashion. According to my counterpart in the Cook County Medical Examiner’s office, the chemicals are identical.”

Alarmed, Uncle Mike looked at Paige. “Cook County? An agent connected to this case? What are you talking about? I thought Mr. Kreident was just investigating an accident in the DAF.”

“That death wasn’t an accident either, Mr. Waterloo,” the coroner said.

Uncle Mike reeled, and when Paige looked at him, she felt her cheeks burning. “I had to keep it from you for the past few days, Uncle Mike. We know that Ambassador Nevsky was dead for half an hour before the crate crushed his body,” she said. “He was murdered, and Jorgenson must have been involved somehow. Now we know Jorgenson’s been murdered, too.”

Uncle Mike looked from one person to another in the sterile room, speechless in his surprise. He looked down at the floor, shaking his head. “Carl — murdered? It doesn’t make sense. There was no reason for this to happen.”

Paige slipped an arm around the older man’s waist, knowing how much he had been through. “There’s no reason for any of it.”

Uncle Mike opened his mouth as if to say something, but all he could do was to shake his head.