Hell's Corner (Camel Club 5)

that the Brit ended up winning.

“I didn’t voluntarily come down here to be judged on my personal choices,” Friedman said to Gross as she broke off looking at Chapman.

“And that’s not what we’re concerned about,” said Gross quickly.

“So does it all have to come out?”

“As I said, your friend’s marital issues don’t concern us and we can be very discreet. Give me his contact information and we’ll take it from there,” said Gross.

She did so, and then Stone said, “The guy in the jogger’s suit in the park?”

“Yes, I saw him,” she replied. “What about him?”

“Did you get a good look at him?”

“Not really.” She wrinkled her nose. “He was so overweight I remember thinking he was the last person you’d expect to see in workout clothes.”

“Did you see the man in the suit with the briefcase?” asked Stone. “He was over near the statue of von Steuben in the northwest corner.”

“No, I don’t think so. There are some trees there. And even with the park lights it was dark.”

“Yes, it was,” agreed Stone. “But you left about the same time heading toward H Street.”

“I wasn’t aware of his movements. I was fumbling in my bag for my metro card.”

“McPherson Square?” asked Stone quickly. “Or Farragut West station?”

“McPherson. It’s a bit closer to the park. I live in Falls Church. I don’t own a car, so I always take the metro.”

“So you didn’t actually see the explosion?” asked Gross.

“No, I wasn’t facing the park, obviously. When the guns started firing I instinctively ducked and ran. Hell, everybody did.”

“Did you have any sense of where the gunfire was coming from?”

She thought for a few moments. “It all happened so fast. I was just trying to get low and out of the way. It was somewhere above me, at least I think so.”

Stone said, “Did you look back toward the park when the bomb exploded?”

She nodded.

“What did you see, exactly?”

Friedman sat back, furrowed her brow again and pursed her lips in concentration. “A lot of smoke, some flames shot up, really high. It was near the Jackson statue in the middle of the park. It was hard to tell at night and because of the trees in the way, but at least that’s where it seemed to be.”

Chapman asked, “Did you see anyone running away from the scene?”

“Like I said, everyone was running once the gunfire started up. And they ran faster when the bomb went off. There were a couple of cops and a dog I remember seeing. The dog was barking and the cops pulled their guns and I think they headed toward the park. I couldn’t swear to that because I was going the other way, fast.”

“And the man in the suit?” asked Gross. “He must’ve been somewhere close to you at that point.”

“He might’ve been, but I never saw him.”

“Okay, anything else?” asked Stone.

“I felt the ground shake a bit. It must’ve been a very powerful bomb. It seems ridiculous that with all the police down there no one noticed an explosive somewhere in the park. I mean, how did that happen?”

Gross sat back. “What did you do after that?”

“Grabbed a train home. I got lucky. I heard they closed the metro station a few minutes after I got on.”

Gross rose and handed her a card. “If you think of anything else let us know.”

After she left Gross looked at the other three. “Well?”

“She didn’t add much to what we already knew,” said Stone.

“What a simpering sot,” snapped Chapman. “I was surprised she didn’t pull her bloody dress up over her fake blonde hair.”

Stone ignored this barb and said, “Okay, we have gunfire that should have never happened. A bomb that shouldn’t have gone off. And a target that wasn’t even there.”

Gross’s phone rang. Ten seconds later he clicked off. “Okay, this sucker just got even more complicated. A group in Yemen has claimed responsibility for the attack.”

CHAPTER 21

THE NEXT DAY STONE WATCHED on TV along with Tom Gross from the latter’s office as the media reported that a group based in Yemen had opened fire on Lafayette Park and also set off a bomb there. It was done to show that it could reach inside the very heart of the American government. At least that’s what the loose translation of the group’s message released to the Western media had implied. Afterward there was a brief press conference at which the FBI director spoke, and then the ADIC answered a few questions from the media, without really telling them anything at all.

Stone asked, “Are we sure the Yemen message is authentic?”

Gross nodded. “Whoever called it in had the proper authorization codes.”

Stone added, “But that just authenticates the group making the statement. It doesn’t prove they actually did it.”

“That’s true. And they sometimes lie.”

“I don’t suppose they gave any helpful details on how they managed the guns and the bomb right under our noses?” asked Stone.

“No. What scares the crap out of me is that if they can hit Lafayette Park successfully, what’s next? What place is safe? It’s like they said, it’s symbolic. And you know every American is right now thinking the same thing.”

Stone said, “And can the terrorists hop across the street and hit the White House?”

Gross nodded. “That possibility is on the mind of every person in this building.”

“In lots of buildings,” added Stone.

Gross said, “Where’s your British sidekick?”

“Not really sure,” said Stone.

“What’s your take on her?” asked Gross.

“She’s one of their best or she wouldn’t be involved in this.”

“A good asset for us, then?”

“I think so. Any hits on the jogger, or the suit?”

“None. Unlike Marisa Friedman, the images on the video of the guy in the suit weren’t really clear. I’m not surprised no one has recognized him. He was never looking at the cameras. Just was sort of staring at the ground.”

“You think he knew where the cameras were posted?”

“Not even I know where all the cameras are posted,” replied Gross. “But we did put out a notice to the media outlets for all people in the park that night to come forward. That’s how Friedman came in. So I am surprised we haven’t heard from him.”

“Well, we wouldn’t hear from him if he were involved in this somehow,” Stone pointed out.

Gross sat down at his desk and fiddled with his stapler. “How close a look did you get at him?”

Stone searched his mind. “Five-seven, balding, slightly stooped shoulders. Never really saw his face. His skin color might have been more dark than light. Whether that was race, ethnicity or a tan I couldn’t tell. Obviously no turban, kufi or Palestinian keffiyeh. You would have clearly seen that on the video.”

“Your description tallies with what we have of him on the feed.”

“Heard from Agent Garchik?” Stone asked.

“I’ve been harassing the guy every half hour. He did say he was going to go back out to the park today for some follow-up searching.”

“When exactly was he going back out?” Stone asked.

“He said this afternoon.”

Stone rose.

Gross gazed up at him. “Going somewhere?”

“Running down a few things.”

“And you’ll share whatever you find?”