Chapter 13

"How much did, umm, Susan tell you of her situation?" asked Brodine slowly.

We were sitting in his office in the Federal building, the one that housed a lot of Uncle Sam's minions in town. Social Security, Immigration, Customs, IRS, they all had offices there. As did the Justice Department, among its branches the U.S. Marshals Service that oversees Witness Protection.

When I'd phoned Brodine I'd told him that I'd got wind of an attempt in the hospital by somebody to get at Susan there, and added that I'd had an "incident" in the parking lot with maybe the same person when I was on my way out. I left it there, and there was a long pause on the other end of the connection. "Uh," he'd finally grunted in a displeased tone. Another pause. "Well, I suppose you'd better come in," he said, still unhappily. He told me where to go and I went, still keeping a weather eye out for anyone trailing me.

When I got there they didn't keep me waiting; I was ushered right in. Brodine was there along with two other guys with whom he'd apparently been conferring, none of whom seemed thrilled to see me. I felt about as welcome as ants at a picnic. Brodine wanted details—especially on how I'd learned about the attempt on Susan, which I simply explained as overheard gossip rather than get the chatty nurse in trouble, but also about what had happened in the parking lot. The three of them were busy exchanging what I supposed were meaningful (to them, if not to me) glances as I went through the story. Then he wanted to find out how much I knew.

"Pretty much the whole story, I think," I answered. But that wouldn't do, he needed chapter and verse. So I told him how she'd apparently got wrong-sided with this Senator Golden and his nasty sidekick Walter over some kind of deal involving drugs and kidnaped little girls and kiddie porn, and he nodded brusquely.

"Did she tell you what she did about it?" he asked.

"Copied his computer files onto a flash drive," I said. "She told me she'd given the thing over to you guys. Like I said, she told me everything."

"Mm," he agreed. "Yes, that's about it except for some personal—"

"She was a hooker back then," I cut him off. "Yeah, I know that, too."

His eyebrows went up and he gave me a speculative look. "And you're, uh, OK with that?" he asked.

"No, of course I'm not 'OK with that, '" I snapped. "I think it's a shitty way to make a living, a demeaning way for women. But are you asking me if I still love her and want to marry her? Yes, I do, both of those things. That's what she was, not what she is, and what she is now is all I care about. So you've satisfied your prurient curiosity, which is none of your damn business anyway, and can we move on to what's happening today, which is why I'm here?"

My irate response got kissy sounds from Susan in my head and another set of raised eyebrows from Brodine.

"Sorry, Mr.— uh, Larry," he said. "I really wasn't trying to pry, I'm just trying to explore with you how freely we can talk."

"Pretty freely, unless there's something else," I said, easing back a little.

One of the other guys cleared his throat. Brodine had introduced him as somebody Garson, but nothing more, but from the way the marshal immediately deferred to him I figured he was either his boss or at least somebody up higher in the food chain there. "May I ask why you're here, Mr. Costain, why you wanted to see us?"

It was my turn to show surprise. "Well, protection, I guess," I said. "I mean, a little help here. Isn't that what you guys do, protect people?"

Garson got an apologetic look on his face, which I knew didn't augur well. "Mr. Costain, among our other duties we administer the Witness Security program," he said, the emphasis clear. "Witness Security," he repeated. "It's for witnesses and sometimes their immediate families. I'm afraid ... well." He spread his hands.

It wasn't hard to pick up his point. "And I'm not a witness to anything," I acknowledged. "Yeah, but, well, I am, kind of. I mean, I saw the guy who attacked me, I can identify him, this Walter Quiller." Actually I hadn't seen him, at least not well enough to pick him out, but Susan had, so it wasn't quite a lie.

Garson nodded. "And you can take that information to the local police if you like. Still, there were apparently no other witnesses to the ... incident, and I'm not sure how much they'll be able to help you either. But from a Federal perspective, I'm afraid such testimony wouldn't be of significant value."