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“Two days later, in the cafeteria, like I told you. We chatted and she was very nice. And then she called me on Monday, wanted to meet at the Blaze Café on Tuesday. That’s when the man and woman chased me and I ran out of the alley and into your car, Agent Sherlock.”
“Only Sherlock, please.”
He nodded. “And then they murdered Eleanor while I was still hiding out in the warehouse district in Alexandria Thursday night. She seemed so interested in me, but she had to be involved, didn’t she?” His hands were shaking as he picked up his mug. He didn’t drink, only looked down into it, as if searching for answers.
Savich said, “Justice, somebody at the CIA had to arrange for Eleanor Corbitt to get through security at Langley the day she talked to you in the cafeteria. She needed an invitation, and a guest pass, maybe a fake CIA ID tag for you to see. I’m thinking it was Farriger who arranged it. What about your chief, Alan Besserman? Do you trust him?”
“Trust? He’s my boss, a career CIA guy. I never even thought about not trusting him.” Justice fell silent, drank some coffee, then looked at them and slowly shook his head. “Do I trust him now? Given what’s happened? I don’t know who to trust. But Besserman? He’s always been fair with all the analysts. Yes, if I trust anyone now, it would be him. This is all so crazy.”
“There’s someone else who had to know Eleanor was at Langley—Nikki Bexholt, a vice president in the Bexholt Group,” Savich said. “She and Jasmine Palumbo, also at Bexholt and driver of the car that hit Sherlock, both seemed to know Eleanor quite well. Did you ever work with the Bexholt Group, have anything to do with them?”
Justice said, “Everyone in my unit’s heard of them. We make use of firewalls occasionally, license some of their portable security software, but working directly with them, that would be way above my pay grade.”
Savich rubbed the beard stubble on his jaw. “Still, it can’t be a coincidence Claire Farriger put a stop to your sleuthing out that new surveillance technology and then set you up to disappear and get locked out of your own workstation. Communications security is the Bexholt Group’s main line of business. Do you know if Farriger is currently working with Nikki Bexholt on some project?”
Justice shook his head. “Sorry, really, I’m only an analyst, not a CIA mover and shaker.”
Sherlock checked the kitchen clock, a dragon with a purple tail and numbers, a Christmas present from Sean, doubtless assisted by his grandmother. “I think Besserman would be real interested in what you have to say, Justice. It’s not yet eleven o’clock. What do you say we pay him a visit? Are you up for it?”
He gave her a grin. “I need more coffee first. With the pain meds Dr. Breaker gave me, I can hardly feel my toes.”
“Take your time,” Savich said. “I’ll see if MAX can find out how well Claire Farriger and Nikki Bexholt know each other.” He looked up. “There’s no doubt in my mind they’ve worked together, and they’re working together now.”
