“I’m sure you’ve seen this, Mr. Danielson. The lab director at Detrick spins it as more of a housekeeping issue-until you get to about paragraph five. That’s when he tel s us the probability of a ‘discrepancy’ regarding the lab’s bioweapons inventory is ‘high.’ Then we learn the lab at Detrick didn’t even use computers to track its inventory until 2005. Prior to that, it was al pen and paper.”
“What’s your point, Agent Lawson?”
“My point is this. If a guy like Robles did take a chemical agent such as mustard gas, or, here’s an idea, a couple of lightbulbs fil ed with anthrax, would the lab at Detrick even know it?”
“Detrick has assured us their inventory is secure.”
“You sound a little scared.”
“Concerned, but not for the reasons you suspect. If this sort of rumor gets into the public’s bloodstream, the potential fal out’s enormous. For us. The Defense Department. Hel, you ever think about the city of Chicago? This place becomes a ghost town if tourists start believing there’s a cloud of anthrax floating down State Street.”
Danielson took another sip of his water. “As it stands, we’ve been able to keep the lid on the contamination at Holy Name. Barely. The last thing we need is a loose cannon of an FBI agent stirring up unrest among the locals with her doomsday scenarios.”
“So you’re tel ing me to drop this?”
“I’m tel ing you the water’s far deeper than you suspect.”
“Are you threatening me, Mr. Danielson?”
“Am I?” This time it was Danielson who showed a little bit of his teeth and Lawson who felt herself fidget. “The fact is, you’re neither qualified nor authorized to even have this conversation. So clear the fuck out. If you want to take that as a threat, feel free to do so. In fact, I think you’d be wise to consider it exactly as such. Now, there’s one more thing I need from you, Agent Lawson.”
“What’s that?”
“Everything you have on a PI named Michael Kel y.”