D.C. Dead (23 page)

“Let’s just say that if something comes up that contradicts our conclusions, he wants to be ready with some answers to the inevitable questions.”

Dino spoke up. “I think we need to take a deeper look at Charlotte Kirby.”

“Why?” Shelley asked.

“Because when we talked to her, she was very uptight, very defensive.”

“That’s true,” Stone said. “She seemed to recoil.”

“And we don’t have anybody else who’s recoiling,” Dino said. “So she’s my suspect, until she isn’t.”

“Agreed,” Stone said.

“I’ll pull her FBI file,” Shelley said. “Everybody who works in the White House has one. There might be something there that will help.”

“Good idea,” Stone said. “Especially since we don’t have another one.”

A COPY OF CHARLOTTE KIRBY’s FBI file was delivered just before lunchtime, and Dino read it first.

“Anything interesting?” Stone asked.

“She’s divorced, one grown daughter.”

“Gee, that’s damning, isn’t it?”

“She was valedictorian of her class at Vassar.”

“We’re lucky she hasn’t murdered more people.”

“And she was a suspect in a murder case four years ago, when her sister was killed. She was cleared when the sister’the sists boyfriend confessed. He’s in a hospital for the criminally insane.”

Stone thought. “So she wasn’t cleared by evidence, but by the confession of a lunatic?”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“How did her sister die?”

“Head trauma from a blunt instrument.”

“I see.”

“And Charlotte inherited her sister’s share of her father’s estate, which amounted to a couple of million bucks.”

“She gets more and more interesting, doesn’t she?”

“I was interested before, remember?”

“This time, let’s not make an appointment. Let’s just show up.”

37

THEY ARRIVED AT THE WHITE HOUSE, AND STONE TOLD THE receptionist that they were there to see Fair Sutherlin. Two minutes later, as he had hoped, Charlotte Kirby appeared.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but Ms. Sutherlin wasn’t expecting you. She just left for a meeting at the State Department.”

“Then we’ll settle for speaking with you, Ms. Kirby,” Stone said. “Since Fair’s office is not in use, we can talk in there.”

“I’m not sure—”

“Ms. Kirby, you should know by now that we have the run of the White House.”

Her shoulders sagged. “Oh, all right. Follow me.”

Stone and Dino fell in behind her, and as they walked down the hall, Stone said quietly to Dino, “Do you think she’s Brix Kendrick’s type?”

“I don’t think Brix had a type,” Dino replied. “Or if he did, it included most of the female gender.”

Kirby ushered them into Fair’s office and closed the door behind them. “Now,” she said, “what can I do for you?”

“You can have a seat,” Stone said, indicating the sofa. He and Dino took chairs opposite.

“What is this about?”

“The same thing it was about the last time we talked,” Stone said, “except we did most of the talking, and you were reluctant to answer.”

“I don’t know anything you want to know,” she said.

“On the contrary,” Stone replied, “you know just about everything we want to know, but don’t want to tell us.”

“You knew about each and every one of Brix Kendrick’s affairs, didn’t you?” Dino said.

She looked alarmed, but said nothing.

“Ms. Kirby,” Dino said, “if you continue to obstruct our investigation, the president is going to hear about it, then Ms. Sutherlin is going to hear about it, and then you’re going to find yourself working in a government basement somewhere, if you’re still employed at all.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Dino handed her a box of tissues from Fair’s desk. “Let’s start at the beginning,” he said. “When did you first meet Brix Kendrick?”

“Two years ago,” she said. “At a White House staff pahrty. I was working for the director of the General Services Administration, and Mr. Kendrick needed someone with my experience in government.”

“And when did you come to work for him?”

“A few weeks after meeting him.”

“And when did the two of you first have sex?”

The tears came again. “The night we met,” she said.

“Where?”

“In his office, on the sofa.”

“Brix was a fast worker.”

“Mr. Kendrick was a very persuasive man.”

“And when did you next have sex?”

“The following evening, at my apartment.” Dino started to ask another question, but she held up a hand. “After that, it was three or four times a week, sometimes in the evenings, sometimes he’d come by my apartment early in the morning—five or six—on the way to work.”

Stone spoke up. “And when did Brix stop having sex with you?”

She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “As soon as I came to work for him. He said that since we were working together, we couldn’t take the chance. After that, he was all business, except when he was talking about his affairs.”

“He talked with you about other women?” Dino asked.

“I know it sounds perverse, and maybe it was, but he’d talk about what they’d done in bed, and in great detail. He knew it made me . . .”

“Jealous?” Dino asked.

“Horny,” she replied. “He would insist that I . . .”

“Go on.”

“That I masturbate while he talked about the other women.”

Dino seemed to have run out of steam, so Stone stepped in. “And how did that make you feel?” he asked.

“Less horny.”

“Did you enjoy these experiences?”

“I’m ashamed to say I did,” she replied. “I began to look forward to them.”

“No need to feel ashamed, Ms. Kirby,” Stone said. “You’re telling the truth now.”

“And I feel better for it,” she said.

“How long did these . . . conversations continue?”

“Until the day he died,” she replied.

“Now,” Stone said, “let’s start from the day you went to work for Mr. Kendrick: who were the women he slept with?”

“There were nineteen of them,” Kirby replied.

Now Stone ran out of steam, and Dino stepped in. “Their names, please.” He opened his notebook.

“He never used their names. He either made up names, like ‘Shotzie,’ or ‘Toots,’ or he gave them nicknames, like ‘the Bunny,’ or ‘the Grasshopper.’”

“What did he call Milly Hart?” Stone asked, recovering.

“I think she was the one he called ‘the Rabbit,’” she said, “but I can’t be sure. He saw the Rabbit for a long time, and often.”

“And what name did he give Mufd he givfy Brandon?”

“‘The Doggie,’” she said, “because that was her preferred position.”

“And when, in the chain of events, was he seeing her?”

“Only for the last month or so of his life, I think. She lived in Georgetown, and he would run over there, screw her, and be back in half an hour. He said he would walk into her house, and she’d be waiting for him, already naked. He’d just drop his pants and stick it in. Ten minutes later, he was on his way back to the office.”