In the Company of Liars

ONE DAY EARLIER
FRIDAY, MAY 7

They just got this last night,” says Special Agent Owen Harrick. He pops a stick of cinnamon gum into his mouth and offers one to Jane McCoy.

McCoy refuses the gum and works on her milkshake. There’s fast food all around the federal building downtown, irresistible temptations to Jane. Harrick is more of a health-food nut, but he’s also junior to her. Choice of restaurants, when they’re working late-which is most of the time-is one of the few arenas in which Jane McCoy pulls rank. Harrick had settled for a chicken sandwich and a side salad. Jane, in a halfhearted nod to dietary considerations, skipped the entrees altogether and just got a large chocolate milkshake.

Harrick lifts the remote and points it at the VCR in the corner of the conference room. “Ready?”

McCoy sucks the last of the shake, then slurps through the empty straw. Harrick looks at her with bemusement.

“Relax,” she says. “So I’ve had my dinner, gimme my movie.”

“Dinner,”he chides. “Two scoops of ice cream with milk.” He points the remote at the screen. “Lights, camera… action.”

The picture is grainy black-and-white. No surprise there. The Bureau has always focused more on discretion than quality in their surveillance equipment. You want a camcorder that fits into your pocket with a zoom lens that can pick up the wink of an eye from a hundred yards away, no problem. But you want a picture that could compete with the quality of a summer vacation video by grandpa, call Miramax, not the federal government.

“The Countryside Grocery Store,” McCoy says. “Corner of Riordan and-what’s that?”

“Apple,” Harrick says. “Riordan and Apple.”

The running time in the corner of the video shows that it was taken last night, just before midnight. The video shows a car parking at a bank, across the street from the grocery store, and the trunk popping. A man emerges from the car, goes to the trunk, then walks up to the store carrying a gym bag. The man on the screen leaves the camera’s vision, disappearing into the back of the store.

McCoy blows out a nervous sigh.

Owen Harrick fast-forwards through a good amount of dead space. Jane watches the seconds then minutes fly by in the corner of the screen.

“Here,” says Harrick, returning the tape to “play” mode. The tape shows the man reemerging from behind the grocery store with his gym bag and walking quickly back to his car. “That’s it. He was out there for less than fifteen minutes.”

Jane stares at the empty screen, feels the adrenaline pump through her. She rubs her hands together nervously. “Okay,” she murmurs. She tosses the empty milkshake container into the trash. “I’m going to go see Allison Pagone,” she says. “Tomorrow morning. A nice, early Saturday-morning meeting.”

“You think she’s in danger?”

McCoy shrugs. She will no longer give predictions on that subject.