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“What footage can’t we watch, then?” Raisa asked. It seemed strange that what they wanted—the interview where Conrad admitted his guilt—wasn’t what Kate was interested in protecting.
“The rest of it,” Kate said, with a fake, apologetic smile. “Sorry!”
Kilkenny finally spoke. “You drove in here after giving us the impression we could watch the footage.”
It was quiet, damning.
“You can,” Kate said, her tone still upbeat and helpful, despite her actions being anything but. She reached for her bag again, but Kilkenny held up a hand.
“You drove in here, you ‘got stuck in traffic,’ you killed the clock until it was after five p.m.,” he said, now fully turned. Raisa had never seen such anger, such disdain, on his face. “You wanted to make sure we couldn’t get a warrant today without calling in some favor from a judge, who certainly won’t grant it on an emergency basis.”
Kate sat back in her chair, her innocent expression dropping away. In its place was something hard, that same something hard that Raisa had glimpsed in their confrontation in Tacoma.
“It’s my film, Agent Kilkenny,” Kate said, her voice cold and empty of any emotion. “And the person who gets to decide who else watches it early is me—not you and certainly not a judge who would rubber-stamp a warrant.”
“We’ll get it first thing tomorrow. You bought yourself fourteen hours, congratulations,” Kilkenny said.
Kate stared back, impassive.
She would have known that, Raisa realized. If Kate had needed longer, she would have figured out a way. She could have easily dodged Pierce’s calls for a few days, then pretended to be traveling from out of state. No one would have been surprised if it had taken a while to get the footage.
But all she’d needed to do was buy herself fourteen hours. Or, fourteen plus the time it would take them to go through the documentary.
Raisa ran through their conversation again.
I have my own agreement with Mr. Conrad.
“He’s giving you something tomorrow,” Raisa realized. “Some part of your agreement, it’s happening tomorrow.”
Kate’s expression flickered just enough that Raisa knew she’d hit the mark.
Pierce dialed his secretary. “Please call and find out if Ms. Tashibi has an appointment with Nathaniel Conrad scheduled for tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to make that poor woman go through all that work just to make your point,” Kate said, rolling her eyes. “Okay, you’re right. I have an appointment with Mr. Conrad in the afternoon. What brilliant minds you are. I’m essentially his biographer, and it’s the day he’s dying. Of course I have an appointment with him.”
That didn’t quite sit right for Raisa. Of course, it made sense. But if Kate wanted just one more interview with Conrad, why was she being so stubborn about handing over her footage? Raisa didn’t buy the artistic-principles excuse, especially since Kate seemed happy to let them watch the part with the biggest bombshell.
Kate’s documentary revealed something she didn’t want the FBI to know before Conrad died, Raisa was sure of it.
She just couldn’t imagine what thatsomethingwas.
Meanwhile, Pierce called off his secretary. “Never mind, thank you.”
Then he turned his attention back to Kate. “What you don’t seem to understand, Ms. Tashibi, is that we can get that appointment canceled.”
Kate inhaled sharply enough for them all to hear, a misstep when she’d been so composed until then. “You can’t do that.”
“Oh, I assure you, me and my brilliant mind can and will,” Pierce said, the resolve in the words clear. He wasn’t bluffing.
This was a different side to him. From what Raisa had seen of him working, he usually went on a charm offensive. But this was just as effective, at least in her book. She was perhaps slightly more impressed by him now.
The moment that followed was fraught. Kate was trying to scheme her way out of showing them the footage, and the rest of them were staring at her, probably wondering the same thing: Was she being protective of her work, or was this something else?
“Fine,” Kate said, reaching for her bag a third time. “You want the footage. Here you go.”
She set a backup hard drive on Pierce’s desk.
“You know, there’s a rule of thumb while making a documentary,” Kate said, with one of those fake, sweet smiles. “For every minute of film you use in the final version, you need an hour of raw footage. Good luck.”