Читать книгу The Double Eagle - James Twining - Страница 16

FBI Academy, Quantico, Virginia19th July – 12:30pm

‘So we still don’t know if it’s a fake or not? This guy, Baxter, he couldn’t help with that?’

Corbett sat down on one of the wooden benches that lined the shaded banks of the Potomac in this part of the FBI compound and placed a polystyrene cup full of thick black coffee down on the ground between his feet. Jennifer sat down next to him, her sandwich still in its plastic wrapper. Lunch could wait.

‘Not without sending it to the lab for tests which I’ll do this afternoon. But he did mention something else.’

‘What?’

‘Well, it’s probably nothing…’

Jennifer noticed Corbett’s forehead creasing. Although he probably had many qualities, she suspected that patience was very definitely not one of them.

‘It’s just that Baxter said that all nine of the coins recovered by the Secret Services in the 1940s were destroyed. But I spoke to someone I know over at the Treasury on the way out here who owed me a favour. He told me, off the record, that although four of the nine coins recovered by the Secret Services in the 1940s were destroyed, the other five were put into storage back at the Philadelphia Mint before being moved to Fort Knox about ten years ago when they re-inventoried the place. As far as he knows, they’re still there.’

Corbett nodded slowly and settled back into the bench, the sunlight seeping under the branches of the overhanging tree. Jennifer studied his face and noticed the total lack of surprise at this latest piece of information. Her eyes widened in realisation.

‘But then, you already knew all that, didn’t you?’ she said slowly.

‘The French doctor who performed the autopsy on Ranieri happened to be a bit of a coin freak,’ Corbett admitted, his eyes fixed on the river, the occasional splash and glittering ripple showing where a fish had risen to the surface and then powered its way back down to the river bed, bending the water with a flick of its tail. ‘He recognised the coin. That’s why we got it back so quickly. I pulled the file. You just pretty much confirmed everything in it.’

‘So what’s this all been about, sir?’ Jennifer fought to control the anger in her voice. She’d thought she was being given a clear run, but Corbett was treating her with the same suspicion as everyone else. ‘Is this some sort of test? Because if it is, I resent…’

Corbett cut her off, his eyes boring into her.

‘You know, there’s a lot of people who think you’re damaged goods. That you’re a liability. That you should have been retired three years ago after the shooting.’

She paused before answering and returned his stare, trying not to let her voice sound too defensive.

‘I can’t help that.’

‘No. But it bugs you.’ He shrugged and turned to face the river again. ‘Me, I think that everyone makes mistakes. It’s how they deal with them that sets them apart. Some just go to pieces and never recover. Others move on and come back twice as strong.’

‘Which do you think I am, sir?’

He paused.

‘It took me two days to get the Treasury to confirm what happened to those other coins. You did it in one phone call. Let’s just say that you don’t strike me as a quitter.’ The hint of a smile crossed his face for the first time that afternoon. ‘The case is yours.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Jennifer stood up, a slight tremor in her voice. This was the sort of chance she had been hoping for. Praying for. ‘I’ll get right on it.’

‘Good.’ He flicked his eyes back round to hers. ‘I want you down in Kentucky first thing in the morning, checking on those coins. I’ll get a plane booked for you.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Jennifer got up and turned to leave, but Corbett called after her.

‘By the way, who bought that Farouk coin in the end? We’re probably going to need to talk to them too.’

Jennifer reached for her notebook and flicked through the first few pages until she found the right entry.

‘According to my Treasury contact several people bid for it. But it went to a Dutch property developer, a private collector.’ She found the name she was looking for and looked up as she said it to see if Corbett recognised it.

‘Darius Van Simson.’