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“Yeah,” said Cole, “but isn’t that exactly what we’re doing?”
“Sure,” said Reuben, “with the difference being that we don’t consider ourselves possible suspects.”
“So our guesses will be better than theirs,” said Cessy.
“So why are you letting people interrupt you?” said Cole. “Go on. Go ahead.”
Cessy patted his hand. “It was a good question,” she said. Then she turned back to Reuben across the table from her. “If we can’t use motive to narrow the list of suspects, then what do we use?”
“Means,” said Reuben. “Opportunity. Connections.”
“A whole lot of people in the White House could have known where the President was.”
“But they would have to have been alone, out of earshot of anybody else for at least a few minutes during the time between the decision to hold the meeting in that particular room and the time the rockets hit.”
“The decision?” asked Cole. “Do they issue a go order right then? What about timing it so you’re on Hain’s Point? Was that part of the choice?”
“Meeting rooms change unpredictably,” said Cessy. “I think that’s standard policy in the Secret Service. Ever since they tried to kill the first President Bush in Kuwait back in . . . whenever.”
“But the meeting was expected to be a long one, right?” said Cole. “I mean, you don’t bring that group together for a meeting and then adjourn in fifteen minutes. You have a long agenda.”
“So the terrorists could have gotten the go from their White House contact when the meeting actually started,” said Cessy.
“How far from the point where the scuba tanks went into the water till they got to the Tidal Basin?” asked Reuben.
“We don’t know where that point was,” said Cole.
“Couldn’t have been in the channel. That’s right in front of Fort McNair and Anacostia Naval Base and Boiling Air Force Base, for pete’s sake,” said Reuben.
“So we need to find out the capacity of those scuba tanks and how much air was left in them,” said Cessy, “in order to find out how much time elapsed between their going into the water and reaching the Tidal Basin.”
“And that tells us the timeframe in which the White House contact had to be alone to make his call,” said Reuben.
Again Cole raised his hand a little. “I don’t mean to cause trouble here.”
“Which means ‘I don’t want you to be mad at me for causing trouble,’ ” said Aunt Margaret. But her smile was encouraging. It seemed she had taken it upon herself to encourage Cole to contribute and stop apologizing for it.
“Somebody’s already figuring this out and we don’t have the resources to do it ourselves,” said Cole. “Who do we have inside the White House?”
“Yesterday, we had nobody,” said Cessy. “Today we have . . . oh, nobody much . . . only the President.”
Mark laughed at that. Reuben almost said something sharp to him, but he saw that Nick had already clapped a hand over Mark’s mouth and Mark was letting him, which meant Mark agreed that Nick was right that he should shut up, and anyway, it was Reuben who had insisted the boys should be able to listen.
“More to the point,” said Cessy, “we have Sandy Woodruff.”
“Whose role is completely undefined,” said Reuben. “Which means that the existing White House staff is going to circle the wagons to freeze her out.”
“Or suck up to her outrageously because she has the President’s ear and can help them stay,” said Cessy.
“Oh. That’s right. Different rules from the Pentagon.”
“And then the other question—who had opportunity to get your plans,” said Cessy.
“It all depends on finding out which version was planted—which DeeNee is working on—and then she’ll know who had their hands on it and can start finding out where it got before it vanished,” said Reuben.
Cessy smiled at him very, very sweetly. “Unless it was DeeNee who handed it over to them.”
“Not a chance.”
