with a nod.
“I still don’t see it, Colonel. Much as you’d like to ignore it we need to address the question of motive. Cui bono , as the solicitors and the detectives in crime novels say. Who gains—Kate Sinclair in particular?”
“The only thing she truly cared about was installing her son as both the head of Rex Deus and President of the United States,” said Holliday. “And she failed.”
“There’s nothing to stop her from trying again,” suggested Peggy. “Like you said, Plan B.”
Holliday stared at the computer screen for a long moment, as though it could somehow give him the answer.
“What was it the man in the confessional said to Leeson? Something about the White House,” said Holliday.
“He talked about killing Our Father, about it all being a ‘thimblerig’ and the ‘poor, doomed bastard in the White House,’” answered Brennan.
“Who were the last three Popes?” Holliday asked suddenly.
“If you don’t include John Paul I, who died after only a month, there were Paul VI, John Paul II and Benedict XVI.”
“Who was invited to the funeral?”
“Every head of state in the world.”
“The president?”
“Of course.”
“He was in attendance for all three?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s got to be it,” said Holliday.
“That’s got to be what?” Peggy asked, frustrated.
“Dear God,” whispered Brennan, seeing where Holliday was going. “They’re going to kill the President of the United States.”
7
“I don’t get it,” said Peggy. “How is killing the president going to help the Sinclair woman?”
“You were barely a toddler when Watergate happened, but even before that Nixon already had a scandal,” said Holliday. “His vice president, Spiro Agnew, was charged with accepting bribes when he was governor of Maryland. Agnew resigned and Nixon appointed Gerald Ford out of Congress. Then Nixon resigned and Ford became president. Ford in turn appointed Nelson Rockefeller, who had been governor of New York State. That meant that neither the president nor the vice president were elected. They were both appointed.”
“If the president is assassinated the vice president automatically takes over and then appoints his choice for VP,” said Brennan.
“And you can bet that Kate Sinclair’s got that all locked up. It’ll be her son the senator, Richard Pierce Sinclair, one of those ‘Pry my gun from my cold, dead hands’ types.”
“How does she manage that?” Peggy asked.
Holliday lifted his shoulders. “Lots of ways. Blackmail for some past sin, favors owed, contributions. It’s a lame-duck administration. The VP will have a shot at the nomination.”
“I don’t think so,” said Brennan. He plucked an errant fleck of tobacco off his lower lip. “I just don’t think that Sinclair would expend the amount of money she has or take the risk just for a shot at the nomination. She strikes me as the kind of person who bets only on a sure thing.” The priest shook his head. “At least she’d want better odds. As it stands now she’d have to make sure everything went exactly according to plan. I think we’re missing something.”
“Well,” said Holliday, “as our Scots friend Robbie Burns once said, ‘The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men/Gang aft agley.’”
“What does that mean?” Peggy asked.
“It means we follow in William Tritt’s footsteps and look for mistakes.”
“Shouldn’t we warn someone?” Peggy insisted.
“Who’d believe us?” Holliday replied. “When you get right down to it we do sound like Internet wackos. And who’s to say we’re not telling someone with a direct pipeline back to Kate Sinclair? Think about it. I talk to Potsy at McDonald’s and a few hours later a giant truck tries to run us down.”
“Your rogue CIA unit?”
“Or Kate Sinclair.”
“Or they’re one and the same,” offered Peggy.
Holliday turned back to the laptop and booted up Expedia. com.
“There’s a US Airway red-eye
“I still don’t see it, Colonel. Much as you’d like to ignore it we need to address the question of motive. Cui bono , as the solicitors and the detectives in crime novels say. Who gains—Kate Sinclair in particular?”
“The only thing she truly cared about was installing her son as both the head of Rex Deus and President of the United States,” said Holliday. “And she failed.”
“There’s nothing to stop her from trying again,” suggested Peggy. “Like you said, Plan B.”
Holliday stared at the computer screen for a long moment, as though it could somehow give him the answer.
“What was it the man in the confessional said to Leeson? Something about the White House,” said Holliday.
“He talked about killing Our Father, about it all being a ‘thimblerig’ and the ‘poor, doomed bastard in the White House,’” answered Brennan.
“Who were the last three Popes?” Holliday asked suddenly.
“If you don’t include John Paul I, who died after only a month, there were Paul VI, John Paul II and Benedict XVI.”
“Who was invited to the funeral?”
“Every head of state in the world.”
“The president?”
“Of course.”
“He was in attendance for all three?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s got to be it,” said Holliday.
“That’s got to be what?” Peggy asked, frustrated.
“Dear God,” whispered Brennan, seeing where Holliday was going. “They’re going to kill the President of the United States.”
7
“I don’t get it,” said Peggy. “How is killing the president going to help the Sinclair woman?”
“You were barely a toddler when Watergate happened, but even before that Nixon already had a scandal,” said Holliday. “His vice president, Spiro Agnew, was charged with accepting bribes when he was governor of Maryland. Agnew resigned and Nixon appointed Gerald Ford out of Congress. Then Nixon resigned and Ford became president. Ford in turn appointed Nelson Rockefeller, who had been governor of New York State. That meant that neither the president nor the vice president were elected. They were both appointed.”
“If the president is assassinated the vice president automatically takes over and then appoints his choice for VP,” said Brennan.
“And you can bet that Kate Sinclair’s got that all locked up. It’ll be her son the senator, Richard Pierce Sinclair, one of those ‘Pry my gun from my cold, dead hands’ types.”
“How does she manage that?” Peggy asked.
Holliday lifted his shoulders. “Lots of ways. Blackmail for some past sin, favors owed, contributions. It’s a lame-duck administration. The VP will have a shot at the nomination.”
“I don’t think so,” said Brennan. He plucked an errant fleck of tobacco off his lower lip. “I just don’t think that Sinclair would expend the amount of money she has or take the risk just for a shot at the nomination. She strikes me as the kind of person who bets only on a sure thing.” The priest shook his head. “At least she’d want better odds. As it stands now she’d have to make sure everything went exactly according to plan. I think we’re missing something.”
“Well,” said Holliday, “as our Scots friend Robbie Burns once said, ‘The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men/Gang aft agley.’”
“What does that mean?” Peggy asked.
“It means we follow in William Tritt’s footsteps and look for mistakes.”
“Shouldn’t we warn someone?” Peggy insisted.
“Who’d believe us?” Holliday replied. “When you get right down to it we do sound like Internet wackos. And who’s to say we’re not telling someone with a direct pipeline back to Kate Sinclair? Think about it. I talk to Potsy at McDonald’s and a few hours later a giant truck tries to run us down.”
“Your rogue CIA unit?”
“Or Kate Sinclair.”
“Or they’re one and the same,” offered Peggy.
Holliday turned back to the laptop and booted up Expedia. com.
“There’s a US Airway red-eye
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