“Then what’s she sitting on?”
“I don’t know.”
“Stop jerking me around, Coburn.”
“I’m not.”
Hamilton swore under his breath. “Fine, don’t tell me. When you’re back in Washington, we’ll discuss your insubordination in addition to the long list of offenses that you—”
“You’re using scare tactics now? Go ahead, kick me out of your stinking bureau. See if I give a fuck.”
Hamilton added even more heat to his voice. “I’ll supply VanAllen with whatever it takes to find you and bring you in, by force if necessary, for the safety of the woman and child.”
Coburn’s jaw turned to iron. “Hamilton, you do that, and they’ll likely die. Soon.”
“Look, I know VanAllen. I appointed him myself. I grant you, he’s no dynamo, but—”
“Then what is he?”
“A bureaucrat.”
“That’s a given. What’s he like?”
“Mild-mannered. Beleaguered, even. His personal life is shit. He’s got a special needs son, a tragic case who ought to be in a perpetual care home but isn’t.”
“How come?”
“Tom doesn’t discuss it. If I were guessing, I’d say the expense makes it out of the question.”
Again Coburn pulled that thoughtful frown that Honor was beginning to recognize. “Give me forty-eight hours. During that time, you check out VanAllen. If you can convince me that he’s honest, I’ll come in. With luck, I’ll have got the goods on The Bookkeeper by then.”
“In the meantime, what are you going to do with Mrs. Gillette and the child?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let me talk to her again.”
Coburn handed the phone to her.
“I’m here, Mr. Hamilton.”
“Mrs. Gillette. Have you been following our conversation?”
“Yes.”
“I apologize for some of the language.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“What’s your take?”
“On what?”
“On everything that’s been discussed.”
“Is Lee Coburn his real name?”
He seemed taken aback by the question. It was several seconds before he replied in the affirmative, but she wasn’t entirely convinced of his truthfulness.