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“What about a connection between Kerr and Fisk?”
Irish slowly raised his head and looked directly at Stella. “Need-to-know,” he mumbled.
Decker cleared his throat. “Irish,” he warned. “Answer Stella’s question.”
She didn’t take her eyes off of him. The look on her face would’ve had me squirming, and not in a good way. But damn, it was hot, as long as I wasn’t on the receiving end of it.
“They worked together at CFR.”
“CFR?” I asked.
Stella pushed back her chair, stood, and walked over to the window. “The Council on Foreign Relations.”
“Officially, it’s a foreign policy think tank,” answered Irish. “Unofficially, a place for its ‘members’ to meet without having to announce it as such.”
“Which office?” Stella asked.
“Fisk was in DC. Kerr was in New York.”
Stella turned toward us, and her eyes met mine.
“Barb too?” I asked.
She nodded. “New York office.”
We’d drawn the line between Stella’s aunt, Fisk, and Kerr at least.
“What happened to him?” I asked.
“Kerr?” asked Irish.
I nodded.
“He stayed on at MI5, but not as director general, the position he’d held for years.”
“What did he do instead?”
“Became more of a consultant.”
I looked at Decker. “I already have a call into Z about him.”
I knew that after Z returned to England, once his son and Decker took over management of the King-Alexander Ranch, he took the DG position formerly held by Kerr. This was a few years before he took over as chief of MI6.
“Where did Kerr go after that?”
“Retired.” Irish raised his head and looked directly at Stella.
“What?”
“He divorced his wife at the same time he left Interpol. He’s been married to Sally Hennessey for nine years.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Stella muttered. I watched her stalk out of the cabin door.
“Who’s that?” I asked as I stood to follow her.
“At the time, she was the executive editor at AP.”
“Barb’s editor?” Deck asked Irish. I didn’t stick around to hear the answer. Stella’s reaction already told me that’s exactly who she was.
