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“I agree,” Kennedy said, as if Rapp wasn’t present. “Is there a chance he’ll stay like this?”
Lewis made a great show of pondering the possibility and then shook his head. “I think he’ll be the same old combative, ill-tempered man he always was.”
“His authority issues?”
“Can’t say for sure, but it stands to reason that those will reemerge as he regresses to his old ways.”
“You two are hilarious. Why don’t we ever spend any time talking about your issues?”
Kennedy and Lewis looked at each other and at the same time said, “Because we don’t have any.”
As they laughed at their own joke, Rapp looked on with a deep frown. “Bankers . . . we were talking about bankers.”
“Sorry,” Kennedy said as she took a sip of wine. “Bankers.” She set down the wineglass, grabbed a blue folder, spun it toward Rapp, and opened it to reveal a photograph of a man who looked to be in his midfifties. “Does this man look familiar to you?”
Rapp shook his head. “I’ve never seen him.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Could it be a blind spot? Maybe it’ll come to you later?”
“That’s not how it’s worked so far. When you show me photos or tell me something it triggers something that helps me remember. This guy,” Rapp waved his hand over the photo, “there’s nothing. No sense that I’ve ever met him or know anything about him.”
“Interesting.” Kennedy pulled the file back and flipped through a few pages. “What about these photos?” Kennedy laid out a photo of an office building and another one of a house.
“Nothing.”
“He works at a second-tier bank . . . Sparkasse Schaffhausen, located in District Five, Gewerbeschule Quarter.”
“I know where that is.” Why do I know that place? Rapp asked himself. His mind was filled with visions of a dark street and a gunfight. “I think I killed someone not far from there.”
Kennedy gave him a blank stare for a long moment and then said, “That’s correct. Two people, actually. You killed them not far from there and then fled to the Gewerbeschule Quarter.”
“I remember.” Rapp grabbed the file from Kennedy and held up the photo of the banker. “Tell me about him.”
“A Herr Obrecht. We don’t know much about him. I’ve made a few discreet calls, but our people don’t seem to run in the same circles as he does.”
“Is this the banker who claims I’m stealing money?”
“Yes.”
“And Rick as well.”
“That’s right. Director Miller showed me the affidavit. The banker claims to have met you twice and Rick on five separate occasions. Each time the man says the two of you converted cash into bearer bonds and placed them in a safety deposit box.”
“And how did this Agent Wilson come across Herr Obrecht?”
/> “An anonymous tip.”
“Come on.”
Kennedy nodded. “I know . . . it’s ridiculous.”
“This is bullshit.” After looking into his drink for a long moment, Rapp said, “Hypothetically, if I was going to steal money from Langley, wouldn’t I be a little better at covering my tracks? I mean, we have five accounts in Switzerland that we use to fund various operations. Right?” Rapp asked, not trusting his memory.
“That’s correct.”
