Then there was the matter of her pledge not to contact or mention Russ Evans to him again. It was for this reason Darlene had decided not to tell her husband about Double M—at least not yet. She never had much in the way of craftiness, and Martin generally could see right through her when she tried holding anything back from him. Revealing her connection with D.M., as she and Kim sometimes called the informant, had to be carefully orchestrated, and kept secret until she knew what the man was about.

Kim stood by Darlene’s right shoulder, blocking most angles, and bent down far enough to whisper in her ear. “It’s him.”

“Now?” The First Lady kept her gaze forward and her face expressionless.

“Lower your hand,” Kim said.

Darlene did as instructed, keeping her fingers curled to form a makeshift cup. The plastic object Kim placed there was smaller than a marble and surprisingly heavy. At the same moment, Martin began his address. A screech of feedback from the podium’s single microphone sent a flock of birds into flight, and the AV tech scurrying for his control knobs. Martin tapped twice on the microphone head.

“There,” he said in a voice now rich with electronic reverb, “the First Lady is always telling me to expect the unexpected.”

The laughter was prolonged and genuine.

“That feedback was probably caused by this earphone,” Kim said. “Very powerful. Double M knows his stuff.”

Darlene nodded, smiling for those still looking at her. Kim straightened up and stepped back toward the crowd.

“Thank you all for being here today,” Martin continued. “This is a wonderful opportunity to express America’s deep gratitude and appreciation to a country that shares so many of our values. Our bond is formed not only in the history we share, but in the perseverance that defines our two nations. And I say this not only as a president who can claim and document a deep Irish heritage, but also as a man who is extremely fond of a perfectly poured Guinness.”

The laughter this time was even more enthusiastic.

Darlene knew this speech well, and was prepared for the reaction to Martin’s Guinness joke. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. With the attendees distracted, she pretended to adjust her earring. The earpiece slipped into place without any difficulty.

The first thing she heard was a brief, rather unpleasant hissing sound. It was followed quickly by a clearly understandable man’s voice that sounded as though she were hearing it through a tin can microphone.

“Darlene Mallory must listen to this recording, and she must agree to help.”

Through her left ear, Darlene could hear her husband speaking.