“I especially liked the portrayal of Sharpsburg,” I said. The South often used different names to remember the battles than the North did. In this case, I used the Southern name to refer to the battle of Antietam.
He looked mildly impressed. “One of my favorites as well.”
But then I blew it. “An interesting way to remember the Civil War.” As soon as I’d said it, I realized it. Oh well.
“You’re not from the South, are you, Dr. Bowers?” His tone had turned fatherly, patronizing. I was not in the mood.
“Actually, no. Milwaukee, originally.” Go on, say it. I know you’re going to.
He grinned, pleased with himself. “Here in the South, we prefer to call it the War Between the States. Or the War of Northern Aggression
…”
I knew he was going to say that.
I didn’t respond, just waited for him to go on.
He continued, “There’s nothing civil about war, Dr. Bowers. The phrase is an oxymoron-like giant shrimp, rubber cement, or tight slacks.” As he added that last one, his eyes flickered toward Lien-hua.
“Or act natural,” I said.
He shifted his attention back to me, with one eyebrow raised. “Hmm?”
“Act natural. It’s another oxymoron. Either you’re acting or you’re not. But only one is natural.” I met his gaze, didn’t look away.
“Ah, unless you are a natural actor,” he said with a slight raise of his glass.
Or unless you’re a true counterfeit, I thought but managed to keep my mouth shut.
“Sir,” Lien-hua said, “you wanted to know about the case.”
“Yes, yes. Of course.” He set his drink on the desk and took his place behind it, in the position of authority. He motioned for us to have a seat in the two tiny chairs facing him. It was a power play, of course.
“Bad back,” I said. “Think I’ll stand.”
Lien-hua sat.
“So,” he said, “this girl tonight. What do you know so far?”
Lien-hua leaned forward. “Governor, if I might ask, what’s your specific interest in this case?”
“Public relations.” He shook his head slightly. “A serial killer? Oh, it’s been a nightmare.” He let his words hang in the air as if he expected us to agree with him that his public relations concerns were somehow more important than the fact that at least six young women had been brutally murdered. I wasn’t sure how much more of this guy I could take.
“I guess no one has informed you about the phone calls?” He asked it as a question even though it seemed like a statement.
“What phone calls?” I asked.
“Let’s see, what was her name… Bethanie something…”
I wondered where he was going with this. “Not Dixon? Bethanie Dixon?”
“Yes. Yes. That’s it. From what I’ve heard, she called our switchboard a dozen times in less than eight hours. That night she disappeared. Two days later she was found dead.”
I remembered seeing a series of calls in her phone records when I was reviewing her case earlier today, but I hadn’t had time to investigate who she’d been calling.
“Are there transcripts of the calls?” I asked.
“Of course. We tape all incoming calls. I’ll have my people fax them to you in the morning. Not much there, though. She demanded to talk to me, said it was urgent. She was afraid her life was in danger. Mine too, it seems.”
“What?” asked Lien-hua. “A death threat?”
“I get those constantly,” he said, dismissing her concern with a wave of his hand. “This was different.”
“She wasn’t threatening you,” I said. “She was warning you.”
“So it seems.”
“But about who?” asked Lien-hua.
He gazed at the bookshelf for a moment and then shook his head. “No idea.”
Lien-hua shifted in her chair. “Sir, why didn’t you tell our team about this earlier?”
“I only made the connection when I heard her name mentioned on the news tonight in relation to this other girl’s abduction.”
Something wasn’t clicking. Something wasn’t right.
Lien-hua’s phone rang; she looked at the number, excused herself, and stepped into the next room.
“Governor,” I said, “does the phrase ‘white knight’ mean anything to you?”
He stared at me. For an instant his eyes seemed to turn cold and reptilian, then he blinked them back to warm and inviting once again. An amazing transformation. “Does that have something to do with the murder?” he asked. He was searching me, evaluating me even as I was evaluating him.
“She scrawled the words beside her, in her own blood, while she was dying.”
I watched him carefully.
“White knight,” he said thoughtfully. “Hmm. I don’t know. I suppose you use them to play chess. That’s the only thing that comes to mind.”
Why didn’t he react when you said she scrawled the words in her own blood? Why didn’t he cringe? He knows something. He’s hiding something.
The governor sipped at his drink and then shook his head. “That’s all, I’m afraid.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll have those transcripts faxed over first thing in the morning. And I would appreciate it if you would keep me apprised of the case. I truly hope you find this girl, Julie-”
“Jolene,” I said.
“Yes. Of course.”
He rose.
Lien-hua stepped back into the room, and the governor watched her walk toward us, his tongue glancing out to wet his lower lip. I stepped between them and handed him my card. “And if you think of anything, you’ll be sure to call us?”
“Of course. Oh-” He raised an index finger and then reached into one of the desk’s mighty drawers. “Two tickets,” he said gallantly. “One for each of you. I’d be honored to have you as my personal guests Monday for the Cable News Forum’s annual awards luncheon. It’s at the Stratford Hotel.”
Everything he said was another way of patting himself on the back.
“I’ll be giving the keynote address to kick off a brief speaking tour on what the states can do to battle global terrorism. I’ll be at the Pentagon later in the week.”
This guy was unbelievable.
“Well. Congratulations,” I said coolly. “And thanks for the offer, but I’m sorry that we’ll have to decl-”
Lien-hua interrupted me. “We’d be honored,” she said.
He beamed. He wasn’t staring at me. “Well”-he gave Lien-hua a slight nod-“then I’ll look forward to seeing you Monday morning.”
And with that, Ms. Banner appeared at the door and led us back, past the paintings of the war that was not civil, to the car.
From his office window, Governor Sebastian Taylor watched the car containing the two federal agents drive away. It had been nearly thirty years since he’d heard the words white night. He’d thought that chapter of his life was over for good. Apparently not. He pressed the button on his intercom.
“Ms. Banner?”
“Yes, sir?” It was amazing how much innuendo she could pack into those two little words.
“I’ll need some time to make a few personal calls.”
“Would you like me to-”
“They’re personal calls, Ms. Banner.”
“Yes, sir.” A note of disappointment soured her reply.
He hesitated for a moment and then added, “Give me twenty minutes. Then, perhaps you can help me, um, work on the wording for my Cable News Forum speech.”
“Yes, sir.” This time her words sounded just the way he’d hoped they would. He released the intercom button and picked up the phone. Dialed a number. Waited.
A moment later a voice answered, “Reference number please.” Governor Taylor smiled. Only three phone numbers actually get you through to a live person at the Pentagon twenty-four hours a day. He knew all three.
“16dash1711alpha delta4,” he said.
“Just a moment.” A slight pause accompanied by the tapping of fingers on a keyboard on the other side of the line and then, “How may I help you, sir?”
“I’d like to talk to General Biscayne.”
“I’m sorry, he’s already left for the weekend. He’ll be in on Monday-”
“This is Sebastian Taylor, code name Cipher.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll connect you.”
“Thank you.”
Governor Taylor waited as the line was transferred, and then a familiar voice came on. “Yeah?”
“Cole, it’s Sebastian. I think we might have a problem.”