Page 99 of Dead Fall

“Which, if they did do it while we were at Burman’s, means they know we paid the conspiracy kid a visit.”

Fields thought about that for a moment. “Only after he plastered your photo all overThe Public Truthsite. Even the Russians should have anticipated a knock-and-talk coming. Hell, if the situation was reversed, they probably would have hauled him off to a gulag.”

“True,” the FBI man agreed. “But regardless of what the Russians might think, we should consider him burned. Whoever was tasking him, they’d already placed a decent firewall around him. We’ll have our cyber people continue to chip away at the Dropbox account, the messaging app, et cetera. Maybe we’ll get lucky. In the meantime, I’ve got something else to show you.”

Carolan reached into the bag at his feet and pulled out a manila envelope. Opening it, he withdrew a stack of surveillance photos and handed them over.

“Where’d these come from?” she asked.

“They were taken earlier today by agents from the Boston field office.”

“You put a surveillance team on former Senator Greg Wilson?” she asked, a bit incredulous. “How did you even know he was going to be in Boston?”

“I’ve been watching his bank accounts and may have flagged his credit cards.”

“Again with the extrajudicial actions? Jesus, Joe.”

Carolan ignored her distaste for his behavior. “I thought the trip to Maine, right when we needed to speak with him about a murder, was highly suspect.”

“But his assistant had told you that the trip had been on the books for weeks.”

“Assistants lie for their bosses all the time.”

“So, you took it upon yourself to look into his banking records and flag his credit cards?”

“Not all his banking records,” the FBI man admitted. “He’s got some high-level things going with some private banks that’ll require serious legal paper to puncture. But the lower-level stuff, his mortgage, his credit cards, yes. I wanted to confirm that the Maine trip had indeed been preplanned.”

“And had it?”

Carolan nodded. “Yes, the assistant was telling the truth.”

“Then why place the flags?”

“You know why. You’ve been at this long enough. When the law starts closing in, some people panic. They run. I wanted to make sure that Wilson didn’t take off.”

“Seeing as how he was in Maine and could have hopped over the border into Canada,” said Fields, “maybe you should have also flagged his passport.”

“I did.”

“Of course you did.”

The FBI man kept going. “When I saw that he changed his airline ticket home to include a stop in Boston, I reached out to the field office and asked them to keep their eyes and ears open.

“They had a surveillance team working a separate case in the North End, which is Boston’s version of Little Italy. They saw Wilson leaving one of the restaurants there. He walked out alone. Then a few minutes later, the next guy in the photos walked out. Alone.

“When the surveillance team wrapped their shift and returned to the office, they heard about my request regarding Wilson and sent the photos down.”

Fields studied the photos again. “Do we have any idea who this second person is? Or if he and Wilson are even connected?”

“Yes and no,” said Carolan. “After receiving the photos, I sent another request. The Boston field office then sent agents by the restaurant. Those agents confirmed that Wilson did in fact meet and have lunch with the other man. The other man paid for their lunch in cash. We don’t yet know who that other man is.”

“Or what they were there to talk about. It could be nothing. You could be violating not just Greg Wilson’s civil liberties, but also those of the man he was having lunch with.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what my gut tells me.”

“More of Carolan’s razor?”

“Think about it. Wilson is one of the last people to have seen Burman alive. Burman is thrown off his roof and now not only are the police involved, but also the FBI. We try to talk with Wilson, but he puts us off because he’s got a trip on the books. Yet instead of returning straight to D.C. to sit down with us, he changes his plans and flies to Boston for lunch. Kind of weird, isn’t it?”