“Yeah,” Castillo said, thoughtfully.
“So what happened when there was no phone call to the embassy of the Russian Federation saying, ‘Mission accomplished’?” Delchamps said. “‘What happened? Who whacked our guys? Does it matter? Lorimer’s dead. Next step, take out Kocian.’”
“After first finding out just how much he knows,” Castillo said.
“Which would also apply to Special Agent Yung,” Doherty said.
“Yeah, it would,” Delchamps agreed. “Which means, as soon as they can find him, they’re going to have another try at Kocian. I really want to talk to him, Ace, before that happens. We might not be so lucky again.”
“Pevsner is probably on their hit list,” Castillo said.
“Pevsner probably wrote their hit list,” Doherty said.
“What do you want to do, Ace?” Delchamps asked.
“You never got around to telling us where you think the Kenyon Oil Refining and Brokerage Company fits into this, Edgar.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, this may really be off the wall, but it’s also possible. The Russians know about Kenyon’s involvement with the oil-for-food scam. Maybe they were in it with him, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. The oil-for-food scam is over. So nobody needs Kenyon anymore.”
He paused, visibly organizing his thoughts.
“You have to think of Putin as being KGB and with a sense of humor,”
Delchamps then went on, “or maybe he just has evil intentions. Anyway, he’s got Kenyon on a hook. ‘Do what I say or the FBI will find out what a naughty boy you have been.’ Kenyon has all this money in the Caymans. ‘How do I find out how deeply the hook is in him?’ What is laughingly known as the intelligence community knows all about these lunatics in Philadelphia. They’re being watched. ‘The Americans swallowed the hidden nuclear suitcase bombs nonsense hook, line, and sinker once. Let’s see if we can get them to swallow it again. So what I will do is tell the dummy in Midland to send the lunatics t
wo million dollars to buy some tunnels to protect themselves from the nuclear blast in Philadelphia. Since they are being watched, this will come to the attention of the intelligence community. Net result: the American intelligence community runs around like chickens with their heads cut off looking for nuclear suitcases which have never left the warehouse in Siberia. Ha-ha!’”
He paused, let that sink in, then went on. “Probable benefit two: Putin knows about the forty-six million Kenyon has in the Cayman bank. Putin’s pal, the famous Colonel Pyotr Sunev, now back at work after a teaching sabbatical at Grinnell University, can find many uses for forty-six mil. Or maybe Putin and Sunev will just split it between them.
“Kenyon probably would not be very anxious to hand it over. But that reluctance was before he sent the two million to the lunatics. Now Putin has him for not only illegally profiting from the oil-for-food scandal—and hiding the money—but also for sending two million to lunatics in Philadelphia known to have terrorist ties. Getting the picture, Ace?”
“I’m thinking about it,” Castillo said. “It sounds off the wall, but…”
“Kenyon either gives them the money or goes to jail,” Miller said. “To whom could he complain he was robbed?”
“Right,” Delchamps said. “So what do you think, Ace?”
“I think we should go have a talk with Kenyon in Midland. Maybe we can get him to tell us who got him to send the money to Philadelphia.”
“Maybe?” Miller said.
“What makes you think he’ll tell you anything at all?” Doherty asked. “All you’ve got is a wild theory.”
“Jesus, I just remembered Jake went home,” Castillo said.
Miller immediately took his meaning.
“Charley, you steer and I’ll work the radios,” he said.
Castillo looked at him for a long moment before replying.
“You’re sure?”
Miller nodded.
“Okay, get on the horn and have them roll the Gulfstream out of the hangar,” Castillo said.
“You’re going to Texas right now?” Doherty asked.