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Authors: Felix Francis

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‘Not officially. But the Director and I initiated a review of our internal and external communications. In the process, we covertly examined the email and phone records of all of our staff
who knew about the operations ahead of time, but it turned up nothing of any use.’

‘How many people knew about these operations beforehand?’

‘About twenty.’

‘Why so many?’

‘There are eight field agents in the horseracing team with a half a dozen backup support staff. Then there are three or four senior personnel, myself included, who would be fully briefed.
Plus the Director. All would know about an operation ahead of time. Most would be involved either in the planning or in the decision to give it the green light.’

‘That’s far too many,’ I said. ‘A true secret stops being secret when two people know it, let alone twenty. Planning should be done by only two or three key decision
makers, with those taking part in the raid briefed about the operation and told the target only immediately before the off, when it’s too late for the information to be leaked.’

Tony looked down at his hands as if somewhat embarrassed.

‘We are a relatively new agency,’ he said. ‘We clearly still have much to learn.’

‘So you want me to come and teach your people how to do it,’ I said rather flippantly.

‘I suppose that would be nice eventually,’ Tony said seriously, ‘but what I really want you to do now is to come and find our mole.’

‘Why me?’ I asked.

Tony and I were safely back in my office with the door firmly shut. Even so we kept our voices to a murmur.

‘A number of reasons,’ Tony said. ‘Mostly because you know what you’re doing and, because you are an outsider, you are above suspicion. I came to London specifically to
recruit you but I needed to be sure. Hence I’ve watched you closely over the past two weeks and I
am
sure you are the right man. You are determined and single-minded and, most
important, you are unflappable. Yesterday you demonstrated admirably that you can keep your head when all around are losing theirs, and that includes me.’

‘I try,’ I said.

As an army intelligence officer in Afghanistan, it had been my task to acquire information from local tribal leaders, most of whom hated the Taliban only fractionally more than they hated the
British. Meetings were always fraught with danger, and a wrong word or action could result in an all-out shooting response. Keeping one’s head at all times was essential, metaphorically and
literally.

‘But surely there is someone else in another part of your organisation who is better placed to investigate the leak?’

‘I need someone who understands the racing industry.’

‘I know British racing,’ I said. ‘not American.’

‘No matter,’ Tony said. ‘I’ve realised during my stay that horseracing here is much the same as in the US and the potential for trying to beat the system is
identical.’

‘I’m not so sure,’ I said. I’d been to the United States before, on holiday, and everything had seemed very different – bigger, brasher and more ballsy.

But Tony wasn’t giving up that easily.

‘Jeff, I need your help. Having a corrupt component in an anti-corruption organisation is like having a cancer. It has to be excised and destroyed, otherwise it will grow and spread,
killing the whole body.’

I knew what he meant more than most – my sister had cancer.

‘But I know nothing about how your organisation operates.’

‘I consider that a plus. You won’t be blinded by procedure and protocol. You will be able to look at things afresh while being someone who knows what to look for. I can hardly ask
one of my own racing team – I might be approaching the very person we’re looking for.’

‘Don’t you trust any of them?’

‘I thought I did. I picked them all myself. Nearly half are ex-military and the rest are ex-cops. I’d have trusted each of them with my life six months ago. Now I wouldn’t walk
down a dark alley with any of them.’

It never ceased to amaze me how wafer-thin and fragile trust can be. All relationships, both work and play, rely on trust as their foundation, yet that trust can be dispelled so quickly by a
single word or a casual action, anything that plants a seed of doubt in the mind. And once trust has gone, it is difficult, if not impossible, to re-establish. Ask any divorce lawyer. It’s
not a lack of love that drives most marriages apart, but a lack of trust.

‘But there must be other people you could ask, someone from another agency like the FBI or CIA?’

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But would they know what to look for? Also, we at FACSA value our independence. It took much persuasion in Congress for our agency to be set up outside of
the FBI rather than as a subsection of it, against the wishes of their then Director. Neither my Director nor I have any wish to go to the FBI now and admit we were wrong.’

‘And were you wrong?’ I asked.

‘Not at all. FACSA reports directly to the Attorney General and the Department of Justice, the same as the DEA and ATF do, and I want to keep it that way.’

‘DEA and ATF?’

‘Drug Enforcement Administration and the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.’

‘You Yanks do love your acronyms,’ I said with a laugh.

‘Be grateful you don’t work for the Navy’s Bureau of Medicine. Its official acronym is BUMED.’

‘You’re kidding me.’

‘I’m not. Its headquarters building is on Arlington Boulevard. I pass it every day on my way into work.’

‘In Washington?’ I asked.

‘Across the Potomac in Virginia. We’re in Arlington, near National Airport. Real estate in DC has now gotten too expensive for the government. Even the FBI is currently looking to
move out.’

Did I fancy some time in Virginia during the spring? I’d heard of the Washington Cherry Blossom Festival. I wondered if it would still be out.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘Tell me what you want me to do.’

LEG 1:
THE KENTUCKY DERBY

‘The Run for the Roses’

A mile and a quarter

Churchill Downs, Louisville, Kentucky

First Saturday in May

Run every year since 1875

3

‘America?’

‘Yes.’

I was on the telephone to Faye, my sister. Her with the cancer.

‘How long for?’

‘I don’t really know,’ I said. ‘But not for too long, I hope.’

For as long as it takes
, Tony had said.

‘On holiday?’

‘No. I’m going to be on attachment to the American anti-corruption agency. It’s like an exchange. Their Deputy Director has been here with us at the BHA for three weeks and
I’ll be doing the same over there.’

‘When do you go?’ she asked.

‘I’m already at Heathrow. My flight leaves in an hour.’

‘That was rather sudden.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I only knew about it myself two days ago. I should have called but, you know how it is, I’ve been busy getting everything done ready to leave.’

‘Is Henrietta with you?’

‘No,’ I said.

There was a silence from the other end of the line as Faye waited for me to expand my answer. I didn’t.

‘It is over then?’ she asked finally.

‘Pretty much,’ I said. ‘We live in different worlds.’

Henrietta had been my girlfriend for the past few months. An initial whirlwind romance that had cooled almost as quickly as it had started. Such was life.

‘Does she know you’re going away?’ Faye asked.

‘I told her last night,’ I said. ‘I think she was relieved.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Yes, so was I. But it was no good trying to go on if it didn’t work.

‘You’ll also miss Quentin’s birthday.’

Quentin was Faye’s husband, my brother-in-law, and missing his birthday was not something I would be losing any sleep over, unlike Henrietta.

‘When is it?’

‘Next weekend,’ Faye said. ‘I was going to ask you over.’

‘I’ll send him a card.’

‘Right.’

She seemed distant, as if thinking of something else.

‘Is everything OK?’ I asked.

‘Absolutely.’

There was something about the way she said it that convinced me that things were absolutely not OK.

‘Are you well?’ I asked.

A simple question with so many unspoken nuances.

There was another silence from her end.

‘Faye, what’s wrong?’ I asked earnestly.

‘I’m told it’s nothing to worry about.’


What
is nothing to worry about?’ I asked, with dread in my heart.

‘I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather recently.’ She forced a laugh. ‘Not that that’s been unusual these past few years. So I went to see my oncologist and he
did some tests and a scan. I received the results yesterday.’

She paused.

‘And?’

‘There’s another spot on my liver.’

Oh dear God, I thought, will this bloody disease never leave her alone?

‘What precisely did the doctor say?’ I asked.

‘He told me it was nothing to worry about but, naturally, I do. I’ve got to have another round of chemo and maybe some radiotherapy. I can’t say I’m particularly looking
forward to it.’

‘My dear Faye, I’m so sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t be going.’

‘Nonsense. Of course you must go. The chemo won’t start for at least another week anyway as I have a touch of flu and they want me to recover from that first. It seems the damn chemo
drugs also reduce my white-cell count and I need those to fight the infection. You’ll be back before things get really bad. I’ll be fine. I promise.’

Was she trying to convince me or herself?

‘I can always fly home if you need me. You only have to call.’

‘Thank you, but I’m sure I won’t need you. I’m a big girl and I can look after myself. You go and enjoy yourself.’

I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be a fun trip, but I didn’t say so.

‘I’ll call you as soon as I know where I’m staying. The agency’s head office is in Virginia, near Washington, DC.’

‘Say hi to the President for me.’ Faye laughed again, this time with a little more genuine amusement.

‘Sure will.’

My flight landed at Dulles Airport at a quarter past two, Washington time, on Saturday afternoon.

I had looked up the climate for Virginia on an American weather website. The temperature averaged from sixty-two degrees Fahrenheit at the beginning of the month to seventy-two at the end. But
it regularly varied from below fifty to almost ninety.

I’d decided I would have to take everything from shorts and T-shirts to a scarf and gloves, in fact the whole shebang other than my skiwear. I had also packed my collection of disguises.
You never knew when they might be useful. Fortunately the luggage allowance in business class was fairly generous.

Tony had worked miracles at the US Embassy in London and had fixed within twenty-four hours both a letter of introduction and the required non-immigrant work visa. Consequently, apart from the
usual lengthy queue, I had no difficulty in clearing US Immigration and Customs.

There was even a driver waiting for me in the arrivals hall with HINKLEY written in large letters on an iPad screen.

‘That’s me,’ I said, going up to him.

‘Welcome to America,’ he said, taking my luggage trolley. ‘I’m parked across the road in the lot.’

I followed him out of the terminal into bright sunshine.

Today must be one of the nearly-90-degree days, I thought, as I rapidly started to perspire under the intense rays. It is easy to forget how much further south Washington, DC is compared to
London. Apart from Alaska, not a single part of the United States is as far north as any part of the United Kingdom, with Washington at the same latitude as Lisbon in Portugal. Perhaps I
wouldn’t need my scarf and gloves after all.

Thankfully, the car was air-conditioned and the driver also knew where we were going, which is more than I did. He took me to a hotel in Arlington where the reception staff were expecting
me.

‘Someone called Mr Andretti made the reservation this morning,’ said the young woman behind the desk. ‘He didn’t say when you were leaving.’ She raised her eyebrows
in a questioning manner.

‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘I don’t yet know.’

My accommodation was more of an apartment than a regular hotel room, with a small kitchen plus sitting room as well as bedroom and bathroom. It overlooked the Pentagon, Arlington National
Cemetery and the Potomac River, with the Lincoln Memorial and the rest of Washington’s iconic buildings clearly visible in the distance.

As I stood by the picture window taking in the spectacular view, I had mixed emotions. Part of me was excited to be here in a new place, with a new task among people who did not know me, just as
I had longed for, but I was suddenly overwhelmed by the undertaking ahead of me.

I had done some research on FACSA and had been amazed to discover that it had over 800 federal agents and nearly 2,000 other employees, most of them at its Virginia headquarters. Even the
horseracing team, one of the smallest sections in the agency, was larger than I was used to at the BHA.

How was I going to discover a mole in that lot?

A knock at my door brought me back from my daydreaming. It was Tony.

‘Welcome, Jeff,’ he said, shaking my hand. ‘Everything OK?’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Good flight, and this is very comfortable.’ I waved my hand around.

He smiled. ‘Anything you need?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I need information. In particular I need copies of the personnel files for all your racing team and the results of your communication inquiry.’

He nodded but looked troubled.

‘I’m not sure I can get the personnel files.’

‘You’re Deputy Director,’ I said. ‘Surely the files are not confidential from you.’

‘It is not the confidentiality that’s the problem, although they are, it’s that I don’t want anyone to know why you are here, not even the personnel team.’

‘Tony, I really need that info. Otherwise I’ll be wasting my time. I should really have the opportunity to study it before I arrive at your offices on Monday.’

‘I’ll get on to it. Anything else?’

BOOK: Triple Crown
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