“Yeah,” Lancette said. “That would be Steve. I didn’t expect him to meet us here. But you told him where we were?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I guess he decided to wait outside. Thanks, James.”

“Glad to. Am I going to read about Dr. Walters in the papers?”

“You know, James,” she said. “I really don’t know.”

Lancette and Addis left the building. It was getting dark.

“There’s no Steve?” Addis asked.

“No,” she said.

Addis checked the street before they crossed. Were any cars about to come screeching toward them? The trees next to the Kennedy-Warren grounds—could they provide cover to a shooter? In the evening light, he could only discern the outline of the greenery. And the sedan behind them earlier when he had braked for the soccer ball—what was its make? He couldn’t remember. They walked across the avenue and got in the car.

“I’d like you to know what we found,” he said. “But, first, I think we should drive.”

“Yes, I think so,” she replied.

He noticed she was holding on to the grip above the door handle.

How long would it take to set a car bomb? she wondered.

“Nick—”

He turned the ignition. The car started.

“Yes?”

“Oh … where are we going?”

He glanced at his watch. The meeting at the White House was going to start soon. Plans for Chicago, for Mumfries’s triumph—or so they hoped—over the widow Hanover.

“To eat,” he said. He steered the car into the stream of traffic. Lancette was silent for the entire ride. She cradled her handbag in her arms.

43 - Havana Village June 30

43

Havana Village June 30

Rolando showed Addis and Lancette to the same table where they had sat the previous night. Addis ordered two shots and two beers. Rolando bowed and withdrew.

“This is eating?” Lancette said. She wiped her brow with a napkin. “Sometimes I wish I smoked.”

“So, tell me, what is it?”

She took the memo out of her bag. Addis saw the CIA emblem on the top. The memo was exactly as Walters had described it to Lancette: Walters’s response to her ICEMAN request. She paged through Walters’s journals and found the entries that corresponded to his treatment of the anonymous covert operator with the tattoo identical to the one found on Hanover’s assassin.

The drinks came. Addis raised the shot. Let’s try not to be afraid, he thought. She lifted her shotglass. Neither offered a toast. They drank and then reached for the beer. He ordered another round.

Lancette explained the documents. “They prove two things. First, the CIA is linked to a person with the same tattoo. Second, someone tried to contain this piece of information. Everything beyond that is speculation.”

“But speculation that can get people killed,” Addis said.