“I saw a murder. And I saw the murderer.”
“A murder isn’t big enough news to warrant a new ID.”
“What if the person murdered was someone who had serious military connections? And what if the murderer wore one face coming in, and another going out?” He paused, then added, “What if one of those faces was the face of the man who paid us to kidnap Wetherton?”
Fuck. Was Mohern saying what he thought he was saying? Gabriel hoped so—if only because it was about time they had some damn luck. “Is that why you contacted Douglass last week? Why you called Wetherton and asked for a meet this evening?”
Mohern’s gaze widened. “How did you know that?”
“Because part of the SIU’s duties is to randomly monitor government officials.” Which was the truth, as far as it went.
Mohern grimaced. “Well, shit. My luck has really run out this week, hasn’t it?”
“Not really. If we hadn’t been monitoring things, you’d now be a feast for the rats and stray dogs.” He studied the man for a moment, letting the words sink in before adding, “So why contact either of them?”
“In Wetherton’s case, I thought he might help me get a new ID in exchange for my continued silence. As you can see, it was becoming harder and harder to hide out.”
“And Douglass?”
He shrugged. “I was paid to deliver a message.”
“What sort of message?”
“I don’t know. It was in an envelope and I didn’t think it wise to open it.”
“And the man who asked you to deliver the envelope?” Gabriel had no doubt who it would be, but it never hurt to have it confirmed.
“Was the same man who asked me to kidnap Wetherton.”
Hence the bloody message on Douglass’s wall. “Why would you think Wetherton would be willing to help someone like you?”
Mohern sniffed. “Well, Wetherton’s not the real deal, and he can’t afford to have that sort of information revealed, can he?”
“How do you know he’s not the real thing?”
“Because the real Wetherton was killed and replaced months ago, wasn’t he?”
This was getting better and better. “So who placed the clone? Jack?”
Mohern shook his head. “He gave us the job, though. Said he knew someone who was looking for a couple of hands for a snatch-and-ransom job. Said it paid well.” He shrugged. “He gave us a number, and we called it and got our instructions. Of course, it turned out the ransom part was a lie.”
So why would someone like Sethanon—and they were almost ninety-nine percent sure it was the elusive Sethanon behind Wetherton’s replacement—be using two off-the-street thugs for a job as important as snatching a government minister? Unless, of course, he wanted no traceable connection if the job went sour. “Can you remember the phone number?”
“Won’t do you any good if I could. It was a public phone box. I checked at the time.”
Damn—not that he expected anything less. Sethanon was too canny to be caught by something as careless as a traceable phone number. “So you kidnapped Wetherton, as directed. Were you also involved in the murder?”
“No. But Frank saw the copy standing over the real version after we delivered him.”
“Did anyone know Frank saw this?”
“No. And we were being well paid, so silence comes as part of the package.”
“This delivery…Was it to an abandoned apartment building on Rathdowne Street?”
It was a loaded question in many respects, and Mohern answered it blithely. “Yeah. How’d you find him?”
“We know because we’ve been tracking the minister’s whereabouts for some time. I guess you didn’t find the tracer when you tried to dump the body, did you?” Which was a lie. Gabriel had never had time to place a tracer, and the only reason he’d been saved was the twin bond he’d spent so long trying to block—although the tracer Karl had placed on him had also helped.