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Wetherton shrugged. “It all depends.”
On what? On how much information the general needed to siphon from him? Why could he not see that something was very wrong? Or could he see it and just wasn’t about to admit it to her? And if that was the case, why not admit it when she was the person being paid to protect him?
Nothing about this situation was making any sense—including her two vastly different reactions to a man she could remember seeing in her dreams but not in real life. Until now, that is.
She frowned and tried a slightly different tactic. “Why was Blaine in the car with you last night, anyway? Are you friends?”
Wetherton hesitated. “Not really. But my wife knows his wife, so we occasionally see each other during social events.”
“What is his wife’s name?”
“Anne Blaine.”
“I mean before she married him.”
He paused. “I think her surname was Grantham, or something like that. I’d have to ask my wife to be certain.”
Sam nodded. “Was his wife in the car last night?”
“No.” He hesitated, and she had a sudden feeling that he was searching for the “right” answer. Odd, to say the least—especially since she’d sensed no outright lies so far. Just avoidances. “He said she was ill, but they had the tickets and he didn’t want to waste them. He’d come by taxi, so I said we’d take him home. He doesn’t live that far from us.”
“You mean not far from your wife’s house and not your Collins Street apartment?”
“Yes.” He paused. “I’m afraid my wife wasn’t able to cope with the long hours I worked, nor did she like the constant media attention that came with being the partner of a politician.”
And wasn’t that a well-rehearsed excuse? “I’m sorry to hear that, Minister.” No sense in totally annoying him, as tempting as that might be. “So, getting back to my original question—why was the general here, talking to you about the military budget, when you’re the Minister for Science and Technology, not the Minister for Defense?”
“Easy. Certain military research allowances come out of the Science and Technology budget.”
“But why? Isn’t that why there’s a defense portfolio? To assign and control the military budget?”
“It’s the defense portfolio,” he said patiently, as if he’d answered this question a million times. Or as if he were talking to a simple child. “Therefore, it concentrates on defense items. Personnel, big hardware items, small hardware items, et cetera. The research section of the military is lumped in with my portfolio.”
Well, there you go; she’d learned something new. “Just one more thing, Minister, and I’ll let you get on with your work.”
“Good.”
“I need to do a sweep of your office, just to make sure there are no bugs or anything.”
“I can assure you, this office is swept regularly, and nothing has ever been found.”
/> “I’m sure it hasn’t, but it’s still part of my job to check.”
He muttered under his breath, then stood up. “I can go get a cup of coffee, I suppose.” He paused. “And the door will remain open.”
“Minister, if I wished to snoop through your paperwork or filing cabinets, I’d simply pick up the phone and get a court order.”
He grunted and walked out. Knowing she was in full view of the secretary, she began her check, searching quickly and efficiently. She didn’t find any bugs, but she did manage to place her own.
All she had to do now was sit back and hope it picked up some clue as to what the hell was going on with Wetherton—and what his true connection was to Blaine.
EIGHT
GABRIEL SHOWED HIS ID TO the black-clad police officer keeping watch and ducked under the yellow crime-scene tape. The rotating red and blue lights of the nearby police vehicles washed across the night, splashing color across the white-walled ten-story apartment block directly ahead. The building had million-dollar views over Albert Park Lake, which became part of the Grand Prix racetrack when Formula One was in town. Douglass might not have had much money in her accounts, but she did have this apartment. Maybe she owned others; it wouldn’t be the first time someone had invested in property rather than put up with the low interest from banks.
“There are three apartments on each floor. Douglass lives in 1003, which is the one with the lake view.” Illie was looking at his notebook more than where he was going, and Gabriel rather churlishly hoped he’d run into something. But the man seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to objects in his path and sidestepped each one at the last moment. And all without actually looking up. “The building has keypad number and thumbprint code security in place, and the system records all visitors.”
“You’ve checked the records for her apartment?” Gabriel flashed his badge at the officer standing at the heavily barred front door and nodded his thanks when the officer keyed the door open for them.
