CHAPTER
16
HARPER BROWN.
That’s what the visitor’s nametag said.
Decker and Jamison had walked into a small conference room at the Hoover Building and found Brown sitting next to Bogart and across from Milligan.
Brown was about five-seven, lean and fit, with blonde hair down to her shoulders. She wore a black pleated skirt, a white blouse, and high heels. Decker put her age at late thirties. The face was mostly unlined except for a trio of creases in the middle of her forehead, which made Decker think that she either frowned a lot or thought deeply a great deal, or frowned when she thought deeply.
She smiled when she saw Decker, rose, and held out her hand.
“Amos Decker, your reputation precedes you.”
There was a southern twang to her words that Decker placed somewhere between Tennessee and Mississippi.
Decker shook her hand and glanced questioningly at Bogart.
“Agent Brown is with a sister agency. She called last night and asked for this meeting.”
Decker and Jamison sat down after Brown shook hands with her too.
“What sister agency?” asked Decker.
“DIA.”
“Defense Intelligence Agency,” replied Decker.
“That’s right,” said Brown.
Decker said, “You’re like the military’s CIA, only your global reach is arguably bigger.”
“And how did you come by that knowledge?” asked Brown, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
“I like to Google as much as the next person. Are you with the Clandestine Service, the Attaché Systems, or the Cover Office?”
“I doubt you have the security clearances to hear the answer.”
“There’s no doubt about it. I don’t have the security clearances to hear it.”
“Amazing what’s on the Internet these days,” interjected Milligan, glancing nervously between the two as they stared stonily across the table at each other.
Bogart cleared his throat and said, “Agent Brown has some things to share on the Dabney-Berkshire matter. Things that we apparently are cleared for.”
Decker sat back and looked expectantly at her. “That would be helpful. All we have right now are lots of unanswered questions.”
Brown said, “I can’t promise to answer all of them, but I think I can give some clarity to certain pieces.”
She put her elbows on the table and assumed a more businesslike look. “Walter Dabney has been involved in a lot of high-level government contracting work.”
“We know that,” said Milligan.
“But you don’t know of the work I’m going to tell you about.”
She pursed her lips, took a few moments to marshal her thoughts, and plunged ahead. “Walter Dabney was apparently not the patriotic citizen that people believed he was.”
“What does that mean?” asked Bogart.
“That means that he was selling secrets to our enemies.”
Jamison glanced at Decker, whose gaze held steadfastly on Brown.
She continued, “We don’t believe that he was a true spy in the sense that he wanted to bring America down.”
“Then what was his motivation?” asked Milligan.
“Gambling debts. They were enormous.”
“We don’t have any record of him being a gambler,” said Bogart. “Trips to Vegas, or—”
Brown cut in, “There are many ways to gamble, Agent Bogart. Nowadays you don’t have to get on a plane and fly to Vegas or go out to the racetrack. All you need is an Internet connection. And the losses can be staggering. And he had to pay them off.”
“By selling secrets,” said Jamison.
“Yes.”
“What sorts of secrets?” asked Decker.
“What?”
“You must have investigated her. We found some curious elements about her past. You must have done the same.”
“What we have found or not is an internal DIA matter. I only came here today as a courtesy to a sister agency.”
“And to tell us we’re off the case,” added Decker.
She looked directly at him. “Without getting into too much detail, I can tell you that the secrets that Dabney stole compromise strategic assets of this country. If certain of our